2004 IronMan Canada
By: Jody Ferguson
Ironman… Two years
ago, good friend and fellow triathlete Kyle Love told me, “Ironman is
about the journey, not the race.”
When you think about that, nothing could be truer.
It takes so much, from so many, to complete Ironman.
From the hours, weeks, and months of training put in by the
athletes, to the sacrifice both personal and professional of the families
and involved. And let’s not forget the supporting cast of training
partners and race volunteers who urge us to continue. Ironman is much more
than a word, a title, or t-shirt, or even a race for that matter.
Ironman is a dedication, a commitment, a sacrifice, a desire to go
where most cannot or will not. Ironman
is journey both physical and spiritual.
This is my Journey.
In August of 2003, nearly one dozen of us put our names and checks in the
hat for Ironman
Canada
. Due
to demand, only nine of us got in the race which filled in only two hours.
For Dr. Jimmy Bienvenu, this would be his first Ironman. For
the others, second, fourth, eighth, and for Mark Miller, tenth.
So, the plans would
begin taking shape. Travel
arrangements one year in advance. You
see,
Penticton
B.C. is a small town, similar in size to
New Iberia
, with limited accommodations.
When 2300 athletes and their families come to town, hotel rooms
become scarce.
With
travel and lodging in place, our focus could turn to training.
Some of the group began earlier than others, and some never began
at all. By January 2004, gang
had shrunk to eight. Early
test races were in order as a measurement of fitness and guideline for
what would come. Holy
Toledo
in early spring, various sprint races,
and even a half Ironman in May, fueled expectations of August.
Along the way, injury reared its ugly head.
Two more of our group sidelined. Ken
St. Pe’ out after a mishap on the bike leaving him hospitalized with a
broken collar bone. Robert Mitchell went out with severe back and
leg pain, which would require weeks of recovery. This
was a quite a disappointment for Ken and Robert and our crew as well.
And so by June, we were down to six.
Need I remind you of
exactly how hot this summer has been?
From June to August, I am sure that collectively the six of us put
in over 120 hours of training weekly. There is just not much shade in
south
Louisiana
. Countless
laps in the pool, hours upon hours on the bike, and miles upon miles of
pounding the pavement. Surely
for all of us, there was a point where we asked why?
It certainly wasn’t for fortune, or even fame.
We missed countless family functions, parties with friends, and the
occasional business appointment. For
what?? What would make any
sane person give up an entire summer of their life?
What possesses someone to push their bodies past the point of
exhaustion? Why would anyone
willingly test the very fiber of their marriage?
For each of us, it is different. For
Miller it’s the number ten, for Decker number eight, for Dr. Bienvenu,
it’s the number one. Certainly
for all of us it is a sense of accomplishment and pride.
But mostly, I believe it’s about finding something with in
ourselves, learning something that we didn’t know.
It is the premise that “anything which does not kill us can only
make us stronger.” So we
pressed on, through the month of July, and into August.
I don’t know about the others, but I was ready to toss in the
towel. Call it quits. I was so
tired of waking up a
4am
, sometimes not seeing my kids other than
them sleeping for days at a time, tired of it all.
I was regretting even having signed up.
And I remembered fellow Ironman Charles Brenke saying, “When
you’re ready, you should be hating life,” and I was.
Having started that longed for period we call the taper, I noticed felling
terrible. Parts of my body
ached that I didn’t realize existed.
The others in the group began complaining of similar aches and
pains. We found a little
comfort in the fact that it was as it was supposed to be.
Before we knew it,
August 26th had arrived and we were off to
Canada
. A
full day of travel, consisting of planes and rental cars were in our
future. We arrived in
Penticton
to cool, dry weather.
In fact, a little chill was in the air. Early the next morning, we
began all the preparations. Check
in, bike assembly, test swim and test ride were all in order.
In case, you didn’t know, the water in
Canada
is COLD!!!
Some of us were wishing for a long sleeve wetsuit instead of the
sleeveless versions we had. Over the next two days, the six of us ate
enough carbs to put Dr. Atkins out of business.
We purchased food, beverage and gizmos to make us go faster.
We obsessed over everything, until Saturday night.
Then, reality. There
was nothing we could buy, do, rub on, or ingest that was going to help
tomorrow. The training was
done. Carb loading was over.
All that was left was to ask for God’s blessing, tell our spouses
and kids we loved them and thanks for the support, rest, and let the chips
fall where they may.
That is exactly what we did.
4 am
to rise on race morning, hustle down to
the continental breakfast, way too much type A personality in the lobby
for me. Gather up the gear and
out the door to the race start we went.
Every street, business, light pole, window was decorated for the
race. People were already
lining the streets in anticipation. Nervous
energy was at an all time high.
To the swim start we
went. 2156 athletes on the
beach, most wanting on the front line.
This would be the largest swim start in Ironman history.
Most of our group was resigned to competing for a spot in the
front, knowing that the first 500 to 1000 meters would be more like
wrestling than swimming. It
was. The water was crystal
clear and cold. Of course,
with 2100 of your closest friends around you, all you really see is feet
and bubbles. After battling for position, getting kicked and punched,
glasses nearly knocked off, the swim ended where it started.
Out transition, through town, the streets lined with spectators, we went.
An awesome feeling comes over you as people call out your name, pushing
the pedals a little harder each time.
The first leg of the course works its way through the valley,
vineyards and orchards on each side and mountains as far as the eye can
see. Terrific roads made
riding fun. Until mile 42.
A hard right turn and all you see is a stream of cyclists heading
up an unending climb. So small
at the top, that they look like ants.
Seven miles of continuous climbing, there’s a challenge for you.
Remember, what goes up, must come down.
And down it did, we reached speeds of 50mph.
The valley on the other side of the mountain a mirror image of the
first. Flat by Canadian
standards, and fast through mile 90. Yellow
lake was at the top of this little climb.
About 4 miles and considerably steeper, I remember thinking that
there must be another gear on this bike.
Hundreds of spectators lined the climb.
Yelling and cheering, the road was choked down to only a couple of
bikes width, spectators urging everyone upward.
It was truly like a scene for the Tour de France.
Awesome.
Down to town, more
spectators lining the road, we racked our bikes and donned the running
shoes. Expecting a flat
course, as Miller described it; we were in for a surprise.
Lots of people, lots of fuel, terrific water stops, and lots of
hills were there to greet us. Most
of running well, feeling pretty good thanks to the cooler climate, the
first 13.1 miles went by fast. The
return to town would have us climb up from
Skaha
Lake
. A
little walking was in order for some.
However, with a 5k left, thousands of spectators cheered and we
were so energized, that it felt as if you were winning the race.
The turn for home was
great. Still more fans calling
your name to press on, faster. The
clock was in the distance. The
announcer calling the names of other athletes, saying “you are an
Ironman.” Crossing the
timing mat, we each looked at the clock, some faster than expected, some
slower, but all of us none the less. And
so the journey had ended. Dr
Jimmy Bienvenu had completed his first Ironman, I, my second, Kyle Love
his third, Keith Manuel his fourth, Charles Decker his eighth, and Mark
Miller his tenth. We certainly
all learned about ourselves and about each other.
And best of all, through the experience we are all a little closer.
So if anyone ever asks me why, I’ll tell them it’s for accomplishment,
it’s for fitness, it’s for friendship.
To all my friends who made the journey, thank you.
Each of you made this experience special in your own way.
I can’t speak about the other 2056 people who crossed the line
that day, but I can vouch for five. They
are Ironmen in every sense of the word.
Congratulations guys.
Jody Ferguson
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