2003 Couer d'Alene Triathlon On the hottest day of the year in North Idaho, many of the 1,576 triathletes in the inaugural Ironman Couer d’Alene triathlon wilted under the stifling sun. A handful lost their lunch while others watched helplessly as the wheels came off. The grueling heat forced athletes to slow their pace, walk or even drop from the race. As the temperature climbed, Couer d’Alene triathletes suffered. The heat caused nausea and vomiting which made it very difficult to get the nutrition needed to complete what is considered one of the toughest endurance events in the world of sports. After competing in my first ever triathlon just over a year ago one could say I may have been a little overzealous in competing in an ironman event with so little experience. Let me just say I learned a lot about the race and what it takes to finish. Let me start with the swim. Water temperature was 68 and very pleasant with a full wet suit. One thousand five hundred or so triathletes trying to turn at the first buoy was not so pleasant. Most of the swimmers were breaststroking with their head out of the water because you could not go anywhere. Many swimmers were making noises like cattle and sheep. What a perfect analogy of what if felt like (cows being herded into a pen). After spreading out the remainder of the course was great. I didn’t break any speed records but got through it. The bike was a little hillier than we expected and the down hills were fast with several sharp turns with the flats always facing a head wind. After flatting twice in the first twenty miles I knew it was going to be a long day so I tried to stay within myself. At mile 70 I began cramping in the upper inner thigh which I hadn't felt before. I then noticed my seat post had fallen and my knees were almost hitting my chest on the upstroke. I kept telling myself to get to the next aid station and fix the seat. Unfortunately at the next two aid stations there was no technical support and I could not find an allen wrench. So I just went on and decided to finish the course riding like an adult on a kid’s bike. Eight and ½ hours into the race with a mere 26.2-mile run remaining. I thought that getting off of the broomstick would be a great feeling. Wrong, nausea and vomiting for the next four miles had me at the aid station telling the volunteers to have me picked up. I just knew there was no way to physically continue. After sitting down with my head between my legs and the volunteers pouring water and ice over me to cool off I felt I should try and continue. I didn’t get far before the same feeling hit me like a Mack truck. Vomiting and cramps continued so at a snail's pace, I made it to the next aid station, where I threw in the towel once again. After waiting about thirty minutes with tears in my eyes waiting to be brought to the medical tent I told myself one more try. A little Pepsi and I was off. I began to slowly feel better and looked at my watch. I knew if I continued to walk I would not make the 17-hour deadline. I dug as deep as I had dug within myself and started jogging seven minutes and would walk two. This took me to mile 13.1. I knew at this point I could beat the midnight deadline. I walked with an occasional jog to finish the second loop and came in at 15:41:38. I will never forget the feeling of coming down that chute. High fives with fans and a smile from ear to ear while the announcer in a crisp clear voice said "Troy Kling from Lafayette Louisiana, first time Ironman - Troy you are an Ironman!" As I look back on the experience I can only say it wasn’t my overall time that mattered. It was beating that little voice in my head that kept telling me to quit. I have been asked if I will compete in another Ironman. The answer is yes because the feeling of accomplishment outweighs by far the pain of that day. I want to thank Terry Butts for his coaching, and every other triathlete that I have trained with. You guys are indeed men of Iron.
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