Champions

Somewhere in a southern city in late September over two thousand athletes ranging in skill level from professional to amateur gather. They are fully ambulatory to para-athletes and gather with growing anticipation. The two thousand or so athletes are joined by are joined by an army of two thousand volunteers, hundreds of employees, vendors, thousands of friends, family and curious onlookers. The city is for all intents and purposes shut down for this event. Droves of law enforcement officers are visible standing posts, roving on motorcycles and working with employees. There is no other event like it. It is…Ironman.

Triathlon is a special kind of mountain to climb for most people. Merely surviving the approximately half mile swim to go on and finish the twelve to sixteen mile bicycle ride and 3.1 mile run in a sprint triathlon (generally recognized as the shortest distance triathlon) is a heck of an accomplishment, but for a human being willing to tackle the 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike ride, and 26.2 mile run in an Ironman is tantamount to scaling Mount Everest for most of us.

Ironman’s motto is “Anything is possible” (https://www.ironman.com). All the athletes have compelling stories. Some are cancer survivors. Some are combat veterans battling severe PTSD. Some have overwhelming disabilities that are so severe that they require guides to get them through the course/day. Some are just dealing with life and need to know they can do it. But…all have stories. I made it to this particular Ironman because my son who hasn’t competed since he was eighteen (12 years ago) and went to the World Championships decided about five months earlier that he was going to register and compete. For perspective, when I competed in a half Ironman, I felt barely prepared after a solid year of hard training and I had been competing continuously for years prior!

Chattanooga is a fantastic place to have a race like this. The city is beautiful, the people are welcoming and gracious and there is a tremendous amount to do for everyone when you aren’t engrossed with the race.

Race morning is always an early one. We were up around five in order to be where we needed to be to see the swim exit. Triathlon is not an easy sport to spectate. Spectators have to strategically place themselves where they believe they will get the biggest bang for the buck. For me and my camera equipment, it was between transition (where athletes change and move to the next sport) most of the time early on. Once the sun was all the way up, the pros were the first in the water. Triathlon is one of the only sports I know where amateurs (they are called Age Groupers in triathlon) compete in the same field with the pros. As soon as the pros were in the water, the day was officially underway.

My vantage point allowed me to capture the first footprints as the first pro made it out of the water after a blazing fast swim. The sunrise was so striking that it almost distracted onlookers from the fact that world class athletes were churning their way past the volunteers in boats and on paddle boards.

The grind: There is little doubt that even for premier athletes, once run distances get to half marathon and marathon distances, it’s a grind. The hotter it is during the run, the harder it is. Athletes have already been at it for hours and keeping up with nutrition and hydration after hours of strenuous competition is part of what makes this sport a Mount Everest amongst sports. While I was on the course with my camera, I saw more than one runner being brought into the medical tent. Undoubtedly a terrible way to end your race day aspirations.

7:34 minutes after the starting cannon went off, the first finisher crossed the finish line to cheers and the now famous exclamation “YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!”. For perspective on that kind of blazing speed let me point out a few things. My fastest HALF was just under seven hours (granted-obviously-I was no speedster). That means the winner swam over two miles in 40 minutes, transitioned, rode 112 miles at an average of 28mph, transitioned and ran an average of 6:29 a mile for 26.2 miles before knocking off for the day. I rode my bike 28mph once. Downhill. I could run 6:29 miles…when I was in my 20s for a 5k. And nothing else. Maybe a 10k.

As I stood at the finish chute and watched and listened I was energized by the crowd. I was saddened that I’ll never compete again. The sport is an amazing test of athleticism and will. But most of all as I heard the spectators blowing whistles, rattling cowbells, screaming for people whom they didn’t know over the blaring music and then another “Bob Smith you are an Ironman!” I considered how each and every one of these athletes who had gotten into the river this morning was a champion. The stood at the base of the tallest peak they could find, looked up and said “Screw it. Hold my beer and watch this.” And in they went. It takes a lot to take that first step. My son finished faster than he did in Kona when he was eighteen and got to hear his name of that speaker system again. I hope the pros never lose sight of what it takes for those who finish behind them to say “Screw it. Hold my beer and watch this.” and actually take that first step into the water. Champions…champions all.

If you or someone you know is struggling, there is help. Call 988 or if you are in the Big Bend of Florida call 211. The 2nd Alarm Project has many resources available as well (2ndalarmproject.org). If you are interested in getting notified when a new blog is posted and are not subscribed, please consider subscribing by entering your email in the “subscribe” icon on the home page. Then you’ll get an email each time a new blog is posted. If you appreciate what you have read here, please feel free to share as you are led across your social media or via email. There just might be someone out there who needs to see this content. Thank you all and stay safe.