I got involved in triathlon in a weird sort of way. While wandering around trying to calm my nerves prior to the 1999 Philadelphia Marathon, I ended up in a Borders bookstore and bought a copy of Triathlete magazine to read back in my hotel. I still remember it - it had Paula Newby-Fraser on the front.

I thought triathlon looked pretty interesting overall, and the shiny carbon fiber Kestrel ads appealed to the geek in me. But, I had no road bike and hadn't swam in years.

The next day, after very little sleep I ran the marathon. Well, I ran most of it. I ate improperly the night before and also went out too fast. WAY too fast. Around mile 16 I started to blow up, my hip and knees ached and my stomach was rejecting everything. I managed to get it together to jog in the last mile or so, but in a disappointing 4:16:37. I swore I'd never run another marathon. It was at this point triathlon started to look pretty appealing.

I bought a road bike, and spent a year doing duathlon with some pretty good results. Nothing spectacular, but a couple of top 5 age group finishes. The next year I got in the pool and started swimming. Though I spent the bulk of the season with a pretty bad Achilles tendon injury, I still managed some good results including a top 15 finish. That said, I still didn't feel fulfilled. I never really felt I was achieving all I could and was only going through the motions.

	“	I began formulating my race plan, almost two months in advance. Sleep, nutrition, stretching, warm-up, race and fueling strategies were all memorized back in January.”
		— Matt Mizenko

So, I took a long hard look at what was holding me back. One, I was not satisfied with the coaching I was getting and decided to change by joining up with Don. I didn't just need a workout every two weeks, I needed motivation and a mentor. Second, I took a long hard look at myself and decided I wasn't "doing my homework." Sure, I was doing the training and hitting all of my workouts, but what about my eating, my sleeping, my mental training? After an honest assessment I concluded that all were significantly lacking, and that I would dedicate this season to a 100% effort and focus; I would finish no race thinking I "coulda" or "shoulda" done anything differently.

To top it off, I would apply this to the most difficult triathlon discipline of them all: The Ironman. Intrinsic in this decision I knew that I would have to do the one thing I'd sworn never to do again - race a marathon. Actually, make that *multiple* marathons. After some discussion with Don, we settled on the Napa Valley Marathon - a small but very scenic and well-renowned race, and one that gave me a good opportunity to test my new commitment.

As usual, I did all my workouts. No problem there. But, Don and I worked hard to put all of the other pieces in place. We set an aggressive (for me anyway) goal time of 3:30. Soon after I began formulating my race plan, almost two months in advance. Sleep, nutrition, stretching, warm-up, race and fueling strategies were all memorized back in January. I developed "crib sheets" listing everything I would do from the time I woke up until the time I crossed the finish. I'd quiz myself on the train to and from work: "What's the second phase of the race? When do I take my first GU? At what time do I begin my warm-up?" You get the idea. I had Don review my diet and suggest changes and took my body fat to the lowest it's ever been.

I got a minimum of 8 hours of sleep every night for a month prior to the race. I cut out my occasional glass or two of wine and even went to a single cup of coffee (Ouch!) in order to keep my hydration levels up. In other words - I did my homework. And when you do your homework, funny things happen.

Race morning everything went as planned. I slept like a rock the night before the race - no nerves whatsoever. Due to my extensive preparation I instinctively knew everything to do and just when to do it - even before the gun I felt incredibly focused and in the zone. At 6:55am I hit the line and went out strong from the gun and never looked back. It was a beautiful day for racing - a perfectly clear sky, a bright warm sun and temps around 65 degrees with just a touch of a cooling breeze and a rolling course through beautiful vineyards and hills.

Before I knew it I was at mile 8 and I started running with my new friend Leslie who was the eventual winner of the women's 50-54 age group and whose husband is a Kona veteran. Focused on running a solid 7:40 pace we ran together until around mile 20, when I assessed my race and determined it was "time to go." With Leslie's good wishes to see me off I never even felt a hint of "the wall" and attacked on an uphill taking my 7:40 ish miles and paring them down much closer to 7:00, passing competitor after competitor in the process.

The course began to flatten out and by mile 24 I was running in the sixes and still feeling incredible. It was as if I had developed tunnel vision; the miles were just ticking off and I was cruising home. In fact, I even missed the last aid station. I never even saw it and ended up running right past it. When I turned into the finishing straight and looked at the clock I was beyond elated - I was going to destroy my goal and finish under 3:20. In fact, I finished in 3:16:37 taking exactly 1:10:00 off of my previous marathon and this time my first thought upon finishing was not "Never again" but rather "When is the next one?"