The Ironman

What an experience.  This past week was the climax of over a year in the making.  In the fall of 2010 I was inspired by Tri4Him teammate Tobey Stevens to dare to challenge myself to the Ironman, the ultimate in long distance triathlon consisting of a 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and 26.2 mile marathon.  I had survived accompanying him through some of his training as he prepared for the 2010 Ironman Florida.  I consulted my coach and others and the consensus was supportive.  Just over a year ago David and I made the 600 mile drive to Florida and witnessed Tobey become an Ironman.  The next day Kyle, David, and I registered for Ironman Florida 2011 and since that moment, Ironman has never been more than a though or two removed from mind.

Kyle, David, and I grew up together.  We went to the same school, same church, and played in the same little league.  Eventually we each went our own way, but were reconnected through triathlon.  Over the past year we have traveled thousands of miles together under our own power, but not without the support and love of friends and family.  We each are blessed with wives that love us and children that inspire us.  We are the legacy of Tri4Him members who have crossed that finish line ahead of us.  We wear the colors of an organization whose goal it is to glorify Christ through triathlon and all other things.  Our coach is a godly man, supplying wise council on all things concerning training, racing, and life.  It takes a village to make an Ironman, and our village was strong. 

 

We each were dedicated to the training plans provided by our coach and each did the work necessary to prepare.  We often talked about race day and fantasized what it might be like to cross that finish line and be declared an Ironman.  We drew from our experience racing in the Ironman 70.3 and watching Ironman Texas.  The summer months were consumed with short course racing and hot weather.  Each taught me lessons I would draw from on race day.  As November approached focus turned to endurance building and the price of Ironman started to come due.  The true price of Ironman is paid in time, something precious and valuable.  Early to bed and early to rise is the way of the Ironman in training.  Time is billed in the form of hours spent on the road and time spent in bed allowing your body to heal.  Without the patience and support of my wife and family, none of this would have been possible.   

After taking the kids trick or treating Monday night, I made my way over to David’s house.  Rik joined us well before sunrise then we met up with Kyle somewhere you don’t want to stop too long in east Texas.  11 Hours later we checked into Sugar Beach Condos- the same unit that had hosted Tobey the year before.  I beat David on a coin flip and claimed the master bedroom complete with king size bed, Jacuzzi tub, and an amazing view of the beach (Kyle liked reminding us his unit had a better view).  Our condo was on the run course and about a half mile from the host hotel and finish line.  We went for a short run and afterward walked out on the beach.  I believe it was then I told Rik that I hated how fast this week would pass.  He reminded me Saturday wouldn’t pass so quickly, but in retrospect it did.  The sand was cold and the water colder, but it was flat and crystal clear; absolutely beautiful.  Each night we took in the sunset and I was reminded of Tobey watching the sunset as he raced the year before. 

Wednesday we took the bikes out to tour the run course and then went over to athlete check in.  We were given the Ironman bracelets we would wear proudly for the next few days then lightened our wallets in the Ironman store.  That afternoon we made our first of three trips to the airport then that evening we grilled steaks on the beach as we once again watched the sunset over the horizon.  Afterward we drew strength from the scriptures and spent time in prayer together.  Thursday was our first ever experience of an ocean swim.  We’ve swam in pools, ponds, bays, lakes, and rivers, but this was different.  Perhaps the biggest difference was the fact that we could actually see to the bottom!  The clear water also gave sight to the hundreds of jelly fish that surround us.  Despite being tossed by waves, we made it out unscathed.  We returned to the airport to pick up Dr. John and the Tri4Him team was complete.  Finally that evening my family arrived.  I couldn’t wait to see them and share all of this with them.  Friday was a blur.  A final quick ride on the bikes and we turned them over to WTC.  We also made our final gear selections and turned in our transition bags.  We took it easy the rest of the day and I got the chance to watch the sunset with kids; countdown and all!  We had breakfast for dinner and then one more early bedtime.  I slept better than anticipated, but was still up before the alarm.  I had my usual breakfast, got dressed, met up with the boys, and we headed to transition.

I would be remiss if I did not make special mention of Rik Cazares and his contribution to this trip.  Rik completed Ironman Texas a few months prior and came along to share his experience as well as help out.  As “Iron Sherpa” he demonstrated the heart of a true servant.  He volunteered for the menial tasks and relieved us and our families of stress and burden.  Despite the heard time we gave him, he never refused a request.  He was invaluable in the days leading up to the race as well as during and afterward.  Thank you Rik for all you did.  I hope to return the favor someday.

As the 2500+ athletes were making there way to the beach, I was looking for my family.  Despite the national anthem and pro start, I was not going to start this race without seeing them!  With a few minutes to spare I got my kisses and made my way into the sand.  Considering everyone had a black wetsuit, green cap, and goggles, there was no way I should have found David and Kyle, but I did.  Shortly after the cannon went off and chaos ensued!  I’ve been in lots of open water swim starts and been kicked, punched, dunked, and swam over, but nothing prepared me for this.  It was absolute congestion with no where to go.  As soon as a spot would open it would be filled.  This lasted seemingly forever, but eventually I found a patch of open water.  Despite a constant presence of jellyfish, I managed not to get stung.  I later heard others were not so fortunate, many getting stung on their face.  The swim was two loops around a 1.2 mile course.  As I neared the beach the water cooled and I could see the bottom again.  I finished my first loop, grabbed a quick drink, and head back into the water. 38 minutes; I would spend the next few hundred meters trying to multiply that by two (multiplying minutes is hard while swimming).  I was pleased with the time and thrilled at the prospect of completing the swim in 1:16, which was the time I exited the water for the second time.  This was my favorite swim ever- beautiful water, a solid pace, and the easiest part of my day!

An average swim to bike transition will take me anywhere from one to three minutes.  15 Minutes after I exited the water I was on my bike.  This transition was obviously different; a run across the sand, a visit to the wetsuit strippers, under the fresh water shower, through the breezeway, pickup bike gear, and head into the hotel to change.  It was there I met hundreds of other guys attempting to put on cycling gear as quickly as possible while wet and cold.  Despite trying to dry off, skin tight spandex and compression apparel does not go on easy!  I heard my name being called and on the next row I saw Kyle.  He had come out of the water a few seconds ahead of me and we set out to get our bikes together.

We stayed within eye sight the first six miles as we headed west into the wind.  We were both taking it pretty easy, as we had a long ride and a long day ahead of us.  I lost sight of Kyle and settled into a conservative effort.  The first forty miles were routine.  We continued to battle a decent head wind, but otherwise the weather was perfect.  I’m not sure why, but it was around the two hour mark a long stretch of a hard miles began.  The terrain hadn’t changed.  My heart rate, power, cadence, and effort were all the same.  My nutrition and hydration were going as planned, but my head was not.  Strangely I felt alone despite being surrounded by dozens of cyclist, competing in the race I had looked forward to for months.  I prayed and thought of my children.  Things got worse as we approached half way and we turned off the smooth roads we had been riding to an 11 mile stretch of the worst roads I have ever ridden.  The roads were so rough they had become littered with debris shaken from other bikes.  It was along this stretched I took a “pit stop” and saw David go by.  He had been suffering knee pain and been on my mind all day.  Seeing him do well helped my mental game, but there were still a few miles of rough road ahead.  The rough road ended, but almost immediately the flat landscape turned to hills.  Most would not call these hills, but when all your training is done just north of Galveston, anything that requires an up-shift is a hill.  The course returned to the roads we road out on and I finally settled into a solid pace and I began to feel better.  I kept an eye out for David’s green helmet, but instead saw Kyle in line for one of the few port-a-cans on the course.  As we approached the beach Kyle caught up to me and we saw what we believed to be on course photographers that turned out to be Piper and Rik on a scooter.  We hit the beach and once again road into a headwind back to transition.  6:06 later, Kyle and I returned to transition together after having completely different rides.  My bike, “Blackbird” turned in a flawless performance despite concerns raised in the weeks leading up the race.

We grabbed our run gear and headed back into the changing room.  This time it was less crowded and to our surprise there sat David tying his shoes.  We had ran three abreast in training and often joked it would be like that at the Ironman- I was excited at that possibility, but also nervous about the asthma that had derailed many of my training runs off the bike.  David took out first and a few minutes later Kyle and I made our way out.  With David’s knee injury we expected to catch up to him in the first few miles, but that never happened.  As we exited transition, my family was waiting on me.  I grabbed a quick kiss from my wife and kids and we set off to run our first ever marathon.  Around the first corner we saw Kyle’s family.  You see all sorts of things on an Ironman run course.  Aid stations included dominatrix, Santa’s helpers, Marines, and cheerleaders.  The streets are lined with posters, bell ringers, and loved ones.  The roads are covered with chalk written messages.  We would learn later that many had been drawn for us, but we didn’t see them.  Ironman Florida is a two loop run that starts on the beach, crosses into a neighborhood, back to the beach, then turns around in a state park, and follows the same route back. 

We ran strong through the first two miles, but it didn’t take me long for my chest to tighten and my pace to slow.  Two hits from my inhaler and we were off again, but Kyle looked a lot better than me.  I was honestly terrified of being dropped and having to run this marathon by myself.  I was told by others that God would show up on the course, and in those miles I realized that Kyle was gift.  He dragged me through those miles and pushed me to keep going.  Many asked if we were doing a run/ walk program, I replied “yes- he wants to run, I want to walk”.  We made our way through the neighborhood, along the beach and through the park and back to the loop.  As we approached the end of the first loop we saw David for the first time on the run course.  He was about 10 minutes ahead and looking strong.  This encouraged me and got me through the next mile when we saw our families again.  Nicole gave me my biggest emotional high of the day when she told me Jacob’s football team had won and would be advancing in the playoffs.  I had told her to tell me if they had won, but wait if they had not.  I was worried when she didn’t say anything at our first meeting!  We finished the first loop and set off to do it again.  All day we had prepared for the inevitable point that would come somewhere along this final 13.1 miles; the point where another step seems impossible or hurts too bad.

As we re-entered the neighborhood the miles became more difficult, but not impossible.  The sun was beginning to set and we traded ice chips for warm chicken broth.  We also went to the flat soda for an extra kick of sugar and caffeine.  Darkness set in as we entered the park.  It was here that loved ones had the opportunity to send a message.  A mat picked up our timing chips and notes were displayed on a large message board.  Kyle’s came up first, “great effort” then mine, “you win, thanks”.  What does that mean?  Though these weren’t the inspirational messages we had hoped for, the laugh lightened our spirits and we exited the park.  We later found out these were not the messages our families had sent us.  The park included mile 19; the longest I have ever ran.  The next mile was Kyle’s longest, so we were both in unfamiliar territory.  We continued to expect the inevitable wall to hit, but instead we were each energized.  As we started the final 6 miles to the finish I felt better than I had all day.  The miles began to pass quickly and it felt like were flying; in reality we were still running over a 9:00 pace.  In the darkness of the neighborhood with about three miles to go we met up with Ron.  I had run the final lap with Ron at my first Ironman 70.3 event and here were approaching the Ironman finish together.  Around mile 137 my groin muscles had enough and began to cramp.  Fortunately Kyle was packing pickle juice and it did the trick.  We exited the neighborhood and approached our condo.  We took a final short walk and set off to finish the race.  That last 1.2 miles went by way to fast, but at this point we were running our fastest of the day.  We rounded Alvin’s Island, the final landmark, and entered the finishing chute.  Spectators line the chute and the energy is like none other.  The road changed from asphalt to the Ironman mat and we crossed the finish line 12 hours 22 minutes and 54 seconds after we had started.  We heard the words we had dreamed about for so long “You’re an Ironman”! David crossed about 15 minutes ahead of and was wheeled to the medic tent after leaving everything on the Ironman course. 

Everyone crosses the finish line a little different.  Some do a victory dance, some high five there way through the chute, others roll across the finish to raise awareness for the disease ALS.  I simply crossed the finish and enjoyed earning the right to stop moving.  I embraced Kyle, thanking him for his patience and inspiration.  Apparently I am incapable of crying, because in that moment I shed no tears.  All I could come up with to describe my feelings were humble and grateful.  The Ironman certainly had humbled me and I was grateful to have conquered it.  Humbled by the dozens of people who made this moment possible for me and grateful for each one of them.            

                   

To get the full experience I did a stint in med tent myself.  It was here I met up with John who had bested his Ironman Texas times in all three disciplines.  My biggest phobia is needles, but at that point I was lobbying for an IV.  I was dehydrated and cold and knew fluids would make it hurt a little less the next morning.  They wrapped me in heating foil, fed me more chicken broth, and sent me home.  Later that evening David and I went to enjoy our first solid food of the day, but the on course nutrition had left our mouths raw. 

Somewhere around 2am I drifted off to light sleep only to awaken at 5am.  The boys were headed down to the Ironman village to purchase finisher gear that sells out almost as soon as it is available.  One more crazy thing to complete the trip!  We sat outside the store in the pre-sunrise cold and relived the race.  We swapped stories with those around us and complained about how much we were hurting.  The rest of that day was spent with the family.  We relaxed and spent time on the beach.  The water was refreshing as was playing with the kids.  It was sad to depart the next morning.  Panama City Beach had been a special time and special place, but it had served its purpose.  As I wrote in the condo’s guest log, we arrived triathletes and departed Ironmen!

As I started to write this I struggled for words to describe the experience.  I though about just describing the race, but race day was just a piece of the bigger picture.  This was truly a year long adventure.  I tried writing just a first person account, but that too was insufficient.  This story is about a group that shared an experience that changed each of us for the better and made us brothers in arms.  Thank you once again to everyone who helped give me this gift.  If you’re reading this, chances are you contributed (some even from as far as Africa and China).  Perhaps the most significant thing I take away from this is the value of doing something difficult.  I wanted my kids to see me do something bigger than myself and someday do their own Ironman, whether it is a 140.6 mile race or something else that requires faith, hard work, reliance on loved ones, and strength from their creator.