I am an IRONMAN!

After years spent chasing a dream. Months and months of training. Six sweet words were finally said to me -- John Carmichael, you are an Ironman.

After 14 hours, 40 minutes, and 17 seconds I crossed the finish line at Ironman Coeur d' Alene.

I could never have made it without all the support, words of encouragement, and love of my family and friends, especially in the days leading up to the race. I had the best cheering section in the history of any race event. Shawn went above and beyond in organizing and running my cheering section. On top of that, I had support from across the country of people watching me throughout the day. Priceless. Here's a pick of my CDA cheering section.



I have to admit, and I've said it a few times before, the training sucked. There were more times that I hated it then I enjoyed it. Early mornings, late nights, entire weekends dedicated to swimming, biking, and running. Sunburn. Windburn. Cuts and bruises. Sore legs. Aching back. Blisters. Sometimes all of those at once. And if I had to do it again, I would in a second with no hesitation.

All journeys start because of a destination. The place where we want to end. But it really wasn’t the destination that made all this worthwhile. It was the people I had with me along the way. Those months spent training meant more to me than anything. The new friendships made. The existing friendships strengthened after spending hundreds of miles together. The hug after the end of a long workout that said everything words could never express. The destination would not have meant anything to me if it weren’t for the gift of the journey.

The week prior to the race was an emotional rollercoaster. So many feelings of excitement. Then the anxiety and nerves would kick in. Then a smile would pop on my face thinking about crossing the finish line. Then the look of fear that quickly rose when I thought about getting in the water for 3,900 meters of swimming with 2,200+ other people. It was overwhelming.

Race day started off really well. From the second I woke up I knew it was going to be a great day. Usually the night before any big event, I don’t sleep. I’ll get a few hours of sleep but it’s mostly naps in 20-minute increments. Saturday night I went to bed and didn’t wake up until race morning. Race morning started EARLY. 4:00 AM the alarm went off. I got up. Showered (yes, I showered. Some people think that is weird but I needed to “start” my day). Ate some food. And headed out. First stop of the day was body marking. Getting my numbers and age inked across my body. After body marking I headed to my bike for one last check of equipment, to load up my nutrition, air the tires. Then I had to drop off my special needs bags, which are available at the halfway point on the bike and run. Then it was back to the waiting game.

Our group met up that morning and it was nice to not be alone. In no time at all, we got into our wetsuits and headed to the beach. I had planned to start midpack. Let the fast swimmers go first but not get stuck behind the slow people. I ended up starting towards the front of the middle section. The swim was full on contact. The pack never thinned out. I got kicked, hit a few times, had my goggles knocked off, but I kept on swimming. Rounding the first turn buoys was tough. People in the front were stopping and/or slowing down. The people from behind were swimming into us. It was a stampede. I decided to just swim my way as fast as possible out of that pack and get past the buoy. Once I did, it was a less violent swim. I made my way back to the beach, got out of the water ran through the arch, only to have to get back in the water for the second loop of the course. The second loop was better. I took my time and stayed away from the crowd. It may have added more time to my swim but it was worth it to me to not have to worry about getting knocked around. When I started the second loop I did get a little tired but I knew I had to keep swimming. Stopping was not an option. And I did look for a place to rest but there wasn’t a buoy, kayak, or paddleboard close. When it came time to round the turn buoys a second time I saw that there was a crowd so I chose to swim far on the outside. It was a wise decision and I rounded the turn “bar-fight” free. About this time I was relaxed, in my zone, and starting to feel how cold the water was. My body was warm but my hands and my face were very aware of the 61-degree water temp. At that point, I just kept swimming knowing the swim exit was close. In my mind getting through the swim was a victory. After 1 hour and 24 minutes I exited the swim.



The bike was as pleasant as any 112mile bike can be with some pretty big hills and tight, technical turns. The first lap went by quickly and it was nice to pass my family and friends back in town. I knew I had to take my time on the bike and save my legs for the run. A lot of people hit the bike hard and then bomb on the run. I knew I couldn’t bomb. I had a few minor bike issues on my second loop but nothing that held me back. Around mile 90 is when I did start to feel the length and difficulty of the bike course. I was starting to get tired and very ready to get off that bike. But once again, I rounded the last hill and made my way back to town to the cheers of the crowd.


I changed into my run gear and started out on the run course. As soon as I came out of transition and saw the crowd of people, it hit me. The OMG I have to run 26.2 miles. Where is my cell phone, I need to cal a cab. But I started running and felt really good. I actually started with a very strong run and had to slow myself down. I knew if I kept that pace, I would not make it to the finish line. The first 4 miles of the run were great. Crowds line the streets. Passing by family and friends on my way out of town. But after that you hit the hills. The run course goes out of town, around the lake and back into town. I did get to see a lot of friends on the run course, which helps keep motivation alive. When I started back towards town you were directed to the right for the second loop and to the left for the finish. At that moment I really wished I were headed to the finish. Then you hear the finish line and as incredible as it sounds, it is the most painful and sad sound when you are routed for the second lap and not the finish chute. But then I saw the crowds lining the streets. My family cheering me one and I quickly forgot all about that and remembered that I had more than half the run behind me, I survived the swim, I was feeling good, and I was going to finish. On my second lap my legs started to feel tight and I felt a little cramping setting in. I started my run/walk and then my run/walk/walk very slow process. I didn’t want to push to hard and blow it with less than 10 miles left. I made my way out to the far side of the lake and on my way back, the day became so worth it. Off in the horizon, the sun was setting over the mountain and the lake. EVERYONE on the run course was looking at the sunset and not in front of them. It was beautiful. Once I was past the lake I made the turns to get me back in town. When I got to the fork in the road the pointer was saying finish on the left, second loop to your right. I thought, those poor people who still have one lap to go… while simultaneously thinking WOO-HOO I am headed for the finish chute. At that point, the wide smile came across my face and I don’t think it went away for two days. I was going to be an Ironman in just a few miles. Shortly after that, I heard the finish line. I can’t explain the rumble and noise of the finish. You hear it. You feel it. When I made the turn onto Sherman, which is the street where the finish chute is, it was lined with people cheering you in. The excitement was uncontainable.


But this is where my very important race strategy had to be maintained. As exciting as it was, I knew that I had to be very aware of who was around me. After 140.6 miles. After 14 hours and 40 minutes. After a rough swim, challenging bike, and a hilly run, there was no way I was going to let anyone finish near me and chance them getting in my finish line photo or have their name jumbled with mine as I crossed the finish line. And sure enough I looked behind me and there were a few people sprinting for the finish. I saw these fools ruining their finish so I slowed down. I was close to the finish and my mom got scared and thought something was wrong. Shawn knowing my finish strategy, knew exactly what I was doing and had to explain it to them. Once the sprinters passed me, I resumed my run and crossed the finish line!


I can’t even explain how exciting it was. The emotions. The highest of the highs knowing I completed the race. Reached my goal. And joined an elite group of ultra-endurance athletes who each are an Ironman.

It’s a day that I will carry with me forever. A sense of joy and pride that I will never lose. A feeling of love and support from family and friends that means more to me than words can ever say. And a feeling of accomplishment. That I did it.

There were times over the last few months where I wanted to give up. The training sucked. I hurt physically and emotionally. I thought it just wasn’t worth it. But then I crossed the finish line and had the biggest thirst for life. Knew that anything is possible. That there are no limits.

Here are a few other pics from the week and race day.

The most perfect sendoff ever!


Graham and I checking in on race day.


The crowd of athlets on the beach prior to the swim start.


Swim exit. Look at all those people still in the water!!! Who knew I would do so well in the swim.


Jake and I on the run course. He was a great little cheerleader and even wanted to run with me.


Seconds from the finish line.


Shawn and I at the finish.


And me next to my favorite sign.