Saturday – Race day Morning
4:00 am. Man it is early!! Surprisingly, I was not that tired or groggy. Probably because I did not really sleep that much. What little sleep I did get was very light.
I donned the Ironman WI outfit I have become kind of known for and Marc assisted me with my body marking. And what a fine job!! You could see those numbers from 50 yards away easy!! Number 463 in big, bold, black letters. These were not coming off half way through the swim, which is common. The hotel where we stayed was filled with other triathletes and we had our own special little pre-race continental breakfast waiting for us at 4:00 am. It was a very nice gesture of the hotel staff. Fruit, juice, lots of bottled water and yogurt. We started heading down to the transition and race start about 5:00. Marc and Steve carried my gear and I coasted my bike in. It was still quite dark out. In fact, the moon was quite visible. There is something to be said about starting a race with the moon still showing. Every street and alley way was lined with triathletes on bikes as if on a mass migration. We all made or way to the transition and started to set up our stations.
The races that Ironman put on are like a choreography all of their own. It is really spectacular. This is one well oiled machine.
I departed from Marc and Steve and they wished me luck. I headed back into transition to “suit up” as Barney would say.
20 minutes before start time.
The other guys in my rack were about the same level. Many of us excited, but not quite sure what to expect not knowing what the harbor currents or bike course were going to present. Another guy in our wave shared a little because he had done the race last year. Before we knew it, the cannon had gone off and the pros were skipping across the top of the water. That means our wave is going to be staging in less than 5 minutes. Our wave sported the purple swim caps (which I will proudly ware in the pool back home). As all turned the corner on the pavement and started to head down the boat landing, I saw Marc and Steve at the top of this wall of people. I struck a pose and they cheered me on. I was ready for anything!! Let’s get this party started!
Ok. So maybe the party was short lived. People, swimming in the pacific in late March is brutally cold. They said the water temp was in the high 50s. It could have been in the 40’s and I would not have known any difference. But alas, now it is time to step up or shut up. Long sleeve suits are a must. Those with short sleeves were suffering.
We all made our way out to the official starting line where our wave would start. We all did a last check and wished each other good luck. The kayakers through the flag down and we were off!! A flurry of arms and legs thrashing water every which way. Truly something to witness first had. Salt water does not taste very good. My stroke was slow but my rhythm solid just like I had practiced. I immediately ditched my 5 stroke breathing routine and quickly adapted to a 3 stroke. Every time a took a breath it was like a hiccup. That was all. The water was so cold; I could not get a full breath. Not even close. Talk about limiting. About half way through, I started to feel normal. The course was out and back. When we cornered the last buoy, we head back straight into the sun. Many of us commented later on how we could not see anything. We just followed the thrashing of water in hopes we would be lead back to where we started from. This sounds like an awful start to the race but really, it wasn’t. It was on par for an Ironman event. If it were easy, everyone would be doing it! I hit the boat landing ramp and began to sprint. I had a lot of catching up to do. Amazingly enough, I felt very good about the swim. Those were the most extreme conditions I have ever swum in by far and I held my own. Transition was smooth and I was on my way. Ran the bike out under the archway over the timing mat and began to mount the bike. Had some trouble getting clicked in, but only for a couple of seconds. I could here Marc and Steve near by cheering me on but could not tell where exactly they were. I was focused on my pedals at the moment. Later I found out that I was with in 2 bike lengths of them right up front. This was only the beginning of their support.
The bike course was very tough in my opinion. True we have hills back home and they are pretty steep. But people, these hills are just as steep but twice as long. The winds that pick up in these canyons are amazing. About 7 miles in we are descending for a ways. I was pedaling with effort to go down hill!! That is how strong a head wind we had. We did a u-turn at the bottom of the hill and head right back up where we just came. I looked down at the computer and I was now going 28 mph. This is crazy!! And that was pretty much what the rest of the course was – unpredictable. Several extreme climbs that were breathe taking (in more ways than one). I witnessed several accidents and they were more than scrapes. One fellow at mile 10 had a twisted set of handle bars and an oblong front wheel. Cranking along, he was not about to quit. The second crash I had just missed. At the bottom of the coast just before the first big climb, I saw a bike in 2 pieces, split in half. Carbon fiber everywhere!! The young man was running out onto the course amidst the other riders to retrieve what was left of his ride. I realized quickly that this was not an ordinary ride. The first climb seemed to go on for ever. It was a 600 foot climb for about ½ mile. It was a very steep grade. I remember thinking, “now I know why the marines test their tanks out here. If they can get to the top of these things without flipping over backwards, they can handle about anything!!” The second climb proved to be just as tough and dangerous. About 5 people in front of me, as we were all grinding away up the climb rocking left to right; one guy put his front wheel into the rear wheel of the guy in front of him. Both sets of zipps were toast! From here on I was scared of what I might see next. There is a wicked descent at about mile 37 where all riders are forced to ride single file and not go over 25 mph. They had lots of race officials and the portable “your current speed is” signs set up. Anyone speeding was ejected from the race immediately. No questions asked no second chances. One could easily hit 50 plus mph at the bottom of this thing. I thought I was going to burn through my brake pads on the way down. From here on out it was just rolling hills and strong cross winds. I have to say, the benefit of having the bike race on the Marines training base was that we had plenty of support and traffic control by the marines. At every intersection, there were three marines in uniform blocking any traffic as we flew by. On my way back into the back side of the marina, about 1 mile from T2, an over the road semi and trailer made it’s way onto our course. It was trying to navigate a corner that I was about to make. A rather large man in uniform yelled “HAULT!!” The drive continued on thinking he could do whatever he pleased because he was so big. Just that fast, that Marine grabbed hold of the side view mirror and pulled his way up to and through the driver’s open window. That truck stopped as in “NOW” I yelled out a big thank you as I am sure those right behind me did the same.
I entered the final bend going into T2 and I heard my support crew cheering me on. I saw a blur of red shirts sporting my “MadTriGuy” logo and signs to match. End of the bike and ready for the run. Let’s put these running legs to work!!
Well, my legs were very tight after the bike. Coming out of T2, I was considerably slower than usual. What I needed was a good 5 minute stretch for my calves. They were on fire!! Extremely tight and screaming for a rest break. About ¼ mile into the run I saw my support crew again. It was then they screamed out my all time favorite sideline cheer: “Go wes Go!! EAT THAT PAIN!!!!” I smiled and did exactly that. Over the next 6.5 miles, I trudged along careful as to not hurt anything this early in the run. By the end of my second lap they could tell I was in pain. I was about 10 minutes down from where I should have been. I rounded the “second lap” cone and met up with the peanut gallery again. This time I could actually feel my legs loosening with every stride. I took there words of encouragement and kept on going. I caught up with a Pro gal and stayed with her for most of the remainder of the race. We ran well together. About ¼ mile from the finish I told her I would see her at the finish line and I broke away. At this point I have made up more than 10 minutes in just over 6 miles. I rounded the bend and flew past the “second lap” turn around cone. I could see my target and it was a straight shot. The street was lined with people 4 and 5 deep the entire way. The crowd was at a deafening roar. By now I had broken into a full sprint and managed to pass 5 people before crossing the finish line. I received a warm welcome beyond the tape and was awarded my finisher’s medal. I was in such awe of the volunteers. Everyone was so supportive. Instantly, I had 3 people “on” me wanting to know if I needed anything. I smiled and said “No. But thanks for offering.” They congratulated me and escorted me to the food tent where I proceeded to devour everything in sight.
They had tons of pizza, fruit, breads, cookies, every beverage imaginable. I loaded my plate, my jersey pockets and headed for our predetermined meeting place after I finished.
I was obviously high on life. Steve got the whole thing on film. It is quite funny. We walked up and down the beach for a while and I regaled on the race high lights. Having them there was pretty neat.
When I went back to the transition to pack up my gear, several other guys were there alone, quietly gathering their things. I felt sort of bad for them and at the same time grateful for the cheering section I had. “Go wes Go!! EAT THAT PAIN!!!!” will ring out for quite some time.
I wonder if I can download that as a ring tone??
All in all, this is one event that will be tough to beat. I highly recommend it to all who are looking to get a jump on the season and make any excuses necessary to get to southern California in late March.
A personal thank you to all service men and women offering assistance throughout the race. A special thanks to all my friends and family that assisted me in getting here. With out you guys, this would have been far more difficult and not near as rewarding. Thanks again and I hope to see you back on my “home base” course Ironman Wisconsin later this fall.
