Ironman Canada: Getting There (Part 1)

FYI: I have a race report (Spring Thaw), also from today. It's below this post.

My racing background was in sprinting in track. After taking the triathlon training class at EWU, I was hooked. My first triathlon was the Eastern Washington University Triathlon. Later, there was a vote on a proposed name change. I suggested "Iron Eagle," which won the vote and still holds that name today. The 1998 race was my first triathlon win after overcoming a back injury the year before that was supposed to be the end of my racing. A friend from the class, Sonny Sellars, who beat me every time we raced, actually got me interested in trying the Ironman. He signed up before he knew how to swim! He clearly had the talent as it would take me a few years to finally beat him at any triathlon distance. Marathon John, Sonny and I would go to races often. The winner would get to chose the place we ate at afterwards. I was second to John in running and second to Sonny in triathlon. It was always motivating me to try harder, but I never did get to chose the place we ate at.

I secured a sponsor, which allowed me to train full time, so I did. I wasn’t going to do the Ironman unless I qualified. I signed up for two qualifiers: Muskoka and the New Balance Half Iron. Sonny and I rented a car and drove to Ontario. Despite a mid-race mechanical and a GI issue, I was able to finish close enough to get a roll down spot. In five days, or a week (I can’t recall), we drove 5,000 miles, raced my way into Ironman, learned some lessons and made it back home. Oddly enough, I really enjoy those road trips. All that was left was to continue to train for the big one.

I had two goals: to qualify for Hawaii and to finish in 9:30. Swimming sub 60 wasn’t a problem. I’d been through three rides of 112 miles and plenty of other long rides. My legs were in about 2:43 shape for an open marathon. I had a nice bike, great nutrition plan and plenty of time to train. Things were looking good. I still had a healthy fear of the water back then. There were plenty of monsters, weeds, birds, etc. that could get me while swimming. Unlike the other things, the birds were actually a rational fear. They’d swarm around me while swimming and dive at me all the time, which freaked me out!

When the time came, I traveled to Penticton with Sonny. His uncle lives there and was kind enough to let us racers stay at his house. I was lucky enough to get a bed to sleep on while there, despite the number of athletes being greater than the number of beds. Things were coming along nicely until the first night there when I found that sleeping was a bit tough. On the other hand, packet pick-up and bike check weren’t going to be all that taxing. Little did I know that one sleepless night would be a harbinger of what was to come. No race before or since then has been such an epic test of will.

We headed down to packet pick-up, but all the packets were gone. A volunteer with little desire to be helpful or pleasant, told me that I couldn’t race because packets were supposed to be picked up the previous day. This was news to me. I had been in contact a number of times via e-mail. At first to let the organization know that I wouldn’t be able to come two days early. Subsequent e-mails were to remind them I wasn’t coming until the day before the race. As if I wasn’t aware, the nice volunteer let me know I wasn’t exactly a big name and didn’t deserve special favors. I agreed that I wasn’t that important and wouldn’t be anywhere near the overall, but had gotten permission via e-mail to get my packet the day before the race. “I’d like to see that e-mail” was the reply. Back then, computers weren’t exactly everywhere and checking e-mail wasn’t as easy as it is nowadays.

There’s very little hierarchy in the volunteer system, but I was eventually directed to another volunteer after a little more harassing. The volunteers were clearly overworked as the next one wasn’t exactly a bundle of joy either. I was nice and polite, taking all their punishment, because the alternative was probably watching the race instead of participating. The second volunteer wasn’t exactly a believer either as I got the “I’d like to see that e-mal” line again. My wild goose chase took me through about five volunteers and about two hours. Every one of them let me know they were eager to see my e-mail. Eventually I was talking to the race director … I think. With as many athletes as were racing, I wasn’t surprised that he didn’t recall my situation. On the other hand, my packet was built up for me and I would be allowed to race. My number was 0202.

We went to get my bike out of the car, do the usual pre race checks and take it to the transition area. It was a good thing we did that. I had a flat tire that needed replacing. Not a big deal until race morning in a giant race just before the swim. That stress would only distract me from my goals of qualifying for Hawaii with a 9:30. The bike check went smoothly after that. The whole process took about three hours, but what does a person do with free time on the day before something as challenging as an Ironman?

(part two to come later this week)

FYI: I have a race report from earlier today. It's below this post.