Enter the world of Ironman, truly its own extraterrestrial planet. 2,500 athletes who have trained for months for the hopes of achieving the coveted title of Ironman. I felt at home on this planet as I became not an anomaly but a fellow cult member. This is a place where going to bed at 9pm, wearing your calf socks to lunch, and talking about power taps and perceived exertion was the norm. This is the place where everyone held Starbucks coffee in their hand and beamed vibes of human sunshine to all those that approach. ok, I'm getting carried away, but it was AWESOME!!! Even World Champion Mirinda Carfrae wished me good luck!
All of this positive, can-do, inspiring camaraderie quickly changed like the tide as we approached the swim start Saturday morning at 7am on the beaches of Panama City. My fellow comrades became quite unsettled as we approached the rolling waves and deep swells to enter the depths of the Gulf. It became war as I fought for position with hoards of men who outnumbered the women 3:1. I was in a washing machine of fury as we completed the 2.4 mile swim. I had never swam 2.4 miles, much less even swam really in the ocean. I maintained good composure and fought for my position. The best part of the swim? Having my wetsuit yanked off with one good pull by a strong man on the beach. Never in my life have I been able to remove that wetsuit so fast!
The bike was a lollipop route of 112 fast and flat miles. We had varying winds throughout the day, overall really good roads, and well manned aid stations. I managed to meet up with one of my best friends when I stopped for a quick potty break. She wasn't feeling very well so I rode next to her just chatting like a songbird. I even verbalized that I was sure to get a penalty....and no sooner did those words come from my mouth that I got a red card flashed to me by a ref on a motorcycle for blocking.... I would now have to go to the penalty tent! My friend went too for moral support and because she really needed to sit down. I had to stand and hold a stopwatch for 4min as they slashed my number with a Sharpie and recorded my name on a sheet. I tried to call my mom from the tent for fun, but none of the refs would let me use their phone....oh well.....
I have to give a HUGE shout out to teammate Brian Myrick who helps direct Ironman Florida. It was so awesome to have a familiar face out on the course and to know that if I had an emergency, he would offer his help. THANK YOU! I managed to run into Brian on the 2nd lap of the run course and posed for a pic....
The run was tough, but was everything I wanted and needed it to be. I wanted it to be mentally and physically challenging so that it would push me to new limits. I wanted an Ironman challenge....and it did not fail to test me. I ran, I walked, I almost passed out. My mouth was so dry that eating a pretzel became like chewing bubble gum. A man ran up to me and asked was this the way to the finish? I thought he was joking, but he had just come out of a porta potty and was so disoriented he wasn't quite sure which way on the out and back course was really the finish. Fit men were walking. People were dry heaving. Ambulance sirens abounded. Inspiration was all around as we became comrades again, united as one, doing the Ironman shuffle. Whatever you could do to make forward progress was done. No one judged our missteps, side leans, or gas passing :). Nighttime caught us and we shuffled along in silence and in bad form. Some would not make it and fall casualty to a cut off time of 12 midnight.
But, I made it. My goal was to get to the start line healthy and my other goal, to finish my first Ironman. And I did it. I did it! In honor of John "Blazeman" Blais who completed Ironman Kona with Lou Gehrig's disease and died 2 years later at 35yrs old, I rolled across the line, something he had done at Kona to offer hope to so many. Thanks Blazeman!
I did not want to leave Planet Ironman for Earth's reality of cyclical work, hopelessness, depression, and fatigue. After all, I was an Ironman. I was changed! How do you come down from such a high of inspiration? Watching a 78yr old man lean across the line, seeing a firefighter in turnout gear complete a marathon, cheering for a woman who finished 10min after the cut-off still getting cheered in by 1,000 people who waited on her to finish! Is there a pill for this? If so, I want everyone to take it. As a nurse, I want to offer that hope and inspiration to all, to see eyes and hearts burn with life. It's never too late to do something epic.
Seek your own Planet Ironman and take those around you with you.