Anthony Cece: looking good on his way to Kona

Matthew Dale profiles lottery qualifier Anthony Cece

There are those who walk through life seldom stepping outside their comfort zone. They stay in the cozy job, afraid to risk failure. They resign themselves to mediocre relationships, afraid of being alone. They stick to running, not wanting to embarrass themselves in the pool or in the saddle.

Then there's Anthony Cece.

Cece, 33, works in marketing and communications for the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. His first road race: a marathon. The first triathlon he signed up for: an Ironman. Wanting to travel abroad after college, he taught English in Japan for three years. Never mind that when he first landed in the country he didn’t speak a word of Japanese.

“I like to test boundaries,” Cece said. “If you stick with the proven route or the status quo or listen to what people say is possible or what you should be doing, I don’t think you do anything at all. As cheesy as it sounds, it’s important to have dreams and pursue them. To explore opportunities as they present themselves.”

Last month, another new opportunity passed Cece’s way. After five years of trying, his name was finally selected in the Ford Ironman Triathlon World Championship lottery. For a while, he considered passing. He felt a tinge of guilt, knowing the bulk of the field qualifies not by paying a fee and filling out an entry form but by finishing at the top of their age class at races across the globe. Ego, too, played a factor in Cece’s mixed feelings. The man can swim/bike/run. Witness his 10-hour, 41-minute PR at Ironman Florida in 2004, only his second attempt at the Ironman distance. (He hasn’t raced another since.) Cece was hoping to earn his way to Kona.

But after some thought, he accepted the spot. As much as Cece likes to do his own thing and step away from the norm, reality played a factor in his decision.

“You have to realize that triathlon, it’s a dangerous sport,” he said. “And I’ve heard stories of people turning down spots and haven’t gotten another chance in 20 years. While I’d much rather qualify, there’s still that possibility in the future. To take part in this race, it’s a tremendous opportunity.”

Cece grew up in Dearborn, Mich., and learned the ways of an endurance athlete early. He was a club swimmer at 10, arriving at the pool by 6 AM for 90-minute workouts before school, returning to the lanes in the afternoon for another two hours. Later he shifted emphasis from swimming to cycling, riding for the respected Wolverine Sport Club. Among the club’s alumni: Frankie Andreu, who helped Lance Armstrong win the Tour de France in 1999 and 2000.

Alas, Cece was not in Andreu’s talent class and the frustration of training hard with modest results exacted a toll. He quit racing bikes two years after high school.

“(Races) became something I stopped looking forward to,” he said. “It became a source of stress for me.”

He focused on school, earning honors at the University of Michigan, majoring in Fine Arts and English. Then came the three years teaching English in Japan to students ranging from elementary school to those in adult education. He taught in the Kansai region and said, “I fell in love with the place.”

“There are not a lot of times you live in a place that you’re comfortable with and you have moments of pause,” Cece added. “Where I lived was rural enough that I’d come home from a tough day at the office, put the key in the front door, look out and before me I’d see a sunset in the mountains. I’d stop and realize, this is absolutely beautiful.”

He said the image of the Japanese being hard-working with an intense emphasis on education is accurate.

“It’s a very hard society for young people,” he said. “From a young age, they’re competing to get in very good high schools, which in turn leads to very good colleges. There’s a saying that there’s only two times a Japanese person is truly free. From the ages of one to five and four years in college.”

By the time he left Japan, Cece could speak conversational Japanese. He adapted to another part of the culture, too, smoking a pack and a half of cigarettes a day.

“You’d be hard-pressed to find non-smoking (places) in Japan,” said Cece, who began smoking in college. “You could smoke at the gym, waiting for a squash court.”

Ironically, Cece returned to the States because his grandfather, a long-time smoker, was dying of cancer. Cece’s father and stepfather also battled cancer. Despite his family’s cancer history, Cece struggled to kick the habit. He ran his first marathon in 2001, in part because he thought the challenge would help him stop smoking. Didn’t work.

Cece didn’t like the fact that smoking impacted some of his decisions. He wouldn’t go to a particular restaurant if it were non-smoking. He wouldn’t hang with particular friends if they were uncomfortable around smoke.

He tried to quit again, this time taking on his first Ironman in 2003. He might have been able to run a 4:30 marathon while occasionally lighting up, but cycling hundreds of miles a week, running and swimming? The challenge was enough to help him stop. He hasn’t smoked in four years.

“Quitting smoking is probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life,” Cece said. “Even though I know I made promises to my grandfather before he passed away, even though I know people get sick because of smoking, it spite of that, you end up breaking down. Without Ironman, I don’t know if I’d been able to quit smoking.”

A fascinating man, Anthony Cece. With the art and English degrees, he’s cultured. He’s artistic and athletic. As the passport attests, he’s well-traveled. The man comes equipped with a sense of humor, too.

On their applications, prospective lottery recipients are asked why they’ve sought entry to triathlon’s Holy Grail.

Cece’s rejoinder, “It’s been a dream of mine for some time to compete in the Hawaii Ironman. And oh, yeah, I look real good in an aero helmet and spandex.”

You can reach Matthew Dale at mdale@ironman.com