There's nothing quite like the first few moments of an Ironman; before a screaming crowd, a thundering migration of neoprene mammals surge into the foaming dark waters. I am smiling as my face plunges into the jumble of arms, legs and rolling torsos. Everything is alive! Everything is in motion! I raise my head to gain sight of the first buoy and - WHAM! My head snaps back, I see stars and swallow lake as the throng behind crawls over my stationary frame. Somehow in the midst of thousands I have managed to face-plant the rear end of a "lifeguard's" surfboard only fifty yards offshore. My heart is racing and I hear cursing (I hope that's not me) as I gasp for breath. "What a great way to start an Ironman!" I think. Fortunately my cheek and goggles have taken most of the blow. I work to collect myself and find clear water, but there is none to be had. I work to go inside the buoy line (Brad Williams IM secret #97) but only manage to t-bone a kayak whose occupant merely points to the buoy line a whole 10 yards away. After two more such encounters I would abandon the infield altogether. In the back of my mind I realize if I were faster I might get clear, but as it were my swim would be remain a close quarter affair. At one point I find myself tucked within a group of swimmers all matching one another stroke-for-stroke, our rotation completely in sync. Things get so close I realize I am engaged in a session of neoprene spooning with strangers. They are all wearing blue caps. I do not like this… There is a wall of feet in front of me so I ease-off and swing wide to get past this rubbery mass of humanity. The rest of the swim would be more of the same. Never really finding a rhythm, my troubled shoulder would make lap 2 a challenge as well. I would be a few minutes off my normal pace - pretty much what my lack of training earned. I don't mean to sound whiney, in fact, by the time we are 200 yards from the beach I am encouraged by the roar of the crowd and hit the sand smiling just the same. I am so glad to be here! It's going to be a great day!
I rumble through wetsuit stripping without the experience of a romance novel (bummer) and make my way to the changing tent. One glance inside at the freshly-packed sardines and I decide to join a quickly gathering group opting for the grass just outside. In previous years my transitions have been, shall we say "leisurely," and I was delighted to make improvements here. On my way to the bike racks I came upon the first of many RTB jerseys. Seeing Cheryl (Iseberg) was a joy and after a quick hug we were both on our way.
As usual I am thrilled to be on my bike and the energy of the crowd served to charge my legs and spirit. I focused on my cadence and tried to race smart. Soon I would begin the endless feast of gels and Gatorade. Being larger than average (I slimmed down to a little under 200lbs) I tend to need a lot of calories. (I'm guessing Heather and I have very different nutrition plans.) Another thing about being on the husky side is how it affects my riding. I make good time on the flats and down-hills but tend to lag behind on the climbs. I would spend most of the day playing a back and forth game of leap frog with many riders. Happy to see the occasional flash of white, green and blue I was charged to know so many teammates were out on the course. Flash! There goes Brian! I'm sure he doesn't see me; he only sees me when he's having a bad day. It was obviously "Go time!" for this Kona-bound phenom!
Flash! There goes Patty! Dang she has nice legs! I wonder how her ride is going. It seems our paces are close. I have mixed feelings: I am Patty's biggest fan and always want to see her scorch the course. On the other hand, I want to do well and I've been chasing this girl for 21 years now (our anniversary weekend). As it turns out our bike splits are very close but she again wins with better training, skill, and good looks!
The second lap of the bike takes its usual toll on my legs, but I manage pretty well barreling into the headwind on the way back to town. Our RTB supporters were still out in force. It's so much fun to hear family and friends shout your name as you return from the 2nd battle of the day!
Entering T2 I felt the normal mix of accomplishment and trepidation. Joe Hafner was there and managed to hustle me through with a wonderful mix of efficiency and encouragement! Thanks Joe! The beginning of the run was a little surreal but I eventually found my legs and managed to run (shuffle) most of the first lap. RTB racers were everywhere! Brian looked focused and on track, as did Phil, Ed, and Patty. Brad was his normal encouraging self. As it turns out he was busy plotting some wily, come-from behind strike at the finish line. I've often mused over the pseudo brother-sister relationship Brad and Patty enjoy. It looks like the sibling rivalry is apt to continue!
To this point I still hadn't seen anything of my buddy Rob Spero, and I was beginning to wonder how I might have missed him. Before long I crossed paths with Patti Anderson who shouted sad news: "Rob had crashed-out! He was in the hospital with broken ribs and separated shoulder!" My heart sank. Rob and I have been friends for more than 20 years. I know how hard he has worked for this day and how badly he wanted to see it through.
More teammates continue to appear: Kristin looks fresh and happy; Jim has enough energy to bark at me like a drill sergeant and Paul lopes along with the natural ease of an ultra-distance athlete. Paul catches me at the beginning of the 2nd lap as my left knee was just beginning to fold. He was kind enough to walk with me for a short distance (always welcome company), before he galloped away to a great finish. I continue to mix run and walk together as best I can, but a knife-like pain in my knee continues to worsen. Jerry Thayer appears with a broad smile and we slap hands. Patti Anderson and I enjoy a walk and chat together for a while and Heather goes by with graceful ease. Cheryl looks to be in good spirits and the last teammate I see on my way to the finish is none-other than Nancy Larson. She looks strong, driven and happy. I suspected a trip to Kona might be in the cards; great job Nancy!!!
The last two miles through the neighborhood were painful at best. On a few occasions I ran simply to see if I might be able to run the finishing chute. Twice my knee buckled and I nearly went down. By the time I got around the last turn a volunteer shouted out "only 6 blocks to go!" I counted them down one-by-one, grateful the course planners were merciful in providing a gradual downhill to the finish. My time was slower than I had hoped (13:20) but still 30 minutes faster than my previous best. It was in fact a great day, and I am enthused to say I'll be back for another go at it next year!
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