Ironman Journey  
By Tim Thomas   

 Four years ago I was 54 years old, over 200 pounds, and grossly out of any semblance of physical shape.  My lovely wife Claudia was in much better shape and looking her 50^th birthday in the eye.  She approached me with the idea of doing our first triathlon because, as she put it, “it might be fun”.  I agreed that it sounded like a grand adventure, so we signed up for the Games of Acadiana triathlon to be held on her birthday.  As I write this, we have completed over 40 triathlons and duathlons, not to mention running races, bike races/charity rides, and over 1500 hours of training.  We are now 4 years older, much fitter, and a combined 65 pounds lighter than when we started.  As I begin to journal this, we are in the final weeks of training for our first ironman triathlon.  I don’t want to document our entire history, but rather just a brief insight into our minds and bodies as we travel through this epic adventure.  And, if possible, provide a short view of our perspective of the race when it is over.

Let me preface this with a word of thanks and gratitude to all of our friends and acquaintances who have provided help and encouragement along the way.  We thank God for the grace He has given us to be able to do this sport and for the many fine people we have come to know through triathlon.  First and foremost, our faithful training partner Sammy who has often been the motivation to get up out of bed at 4 AM, because we knew he would be at Red’s checking his watch if we were late.  Also, I would like to say a special thank you to Sammy’s wife, Danielle, who has put up with the endless hours of training, traveling (including an occasional wrong turn), and racing, while we pursued our goal.  Thank you Mike for getting up every Friday morning at 5 AM to coach us and help us improve our butterfly, really a selfless gesture on your part!  Ben, thanks for the webpage that helped us on our circuitous journey.  Jerry, thanks for all the ride and event updates.  Mark, thanks for keeping our bikes in shape.  John, we sincerely thank you for all your help and advice in the final stages of preparation for our race.  I wish we could mention everyone who has inspired, motivated, and helped us along our journey, but it would take too long because there are so many of you.  Suffice it to say that we sincerely thank you and will forever appreciate each and every one of you.  

 Last year, after three years of training and racing triathlons, we decided to climb the ultimate mountain and sign up for an Ironman.  This was brought on not totally by our own desires, but by being in such close association with so many superb athletes, to whom, completing one of the most grueling one day athletic events in the world is an annual or semi-annual endeavor.  Please understand, most of these athletes are decades younger than we are, and are infinitely more genetically endowed.  Mark and Kyle, y’all are the exceptions….you are only one decade younger…. All the rest applies.

 Let the journey begin.  We made the commitment, paid the $425 entry fee and started training.  My wife had run a marathon twenty years ago in New Orleans , so she was a seasoned veteran at that distance.  As for me, I had run 13.1 miles three times:  three half ironman races.  We started to train, running through the winter and racing a half marathon in January and a full marathon in February, and another half in March.  Unfortunately, hunting season interrupted my training and I ran the half in January with only a minimal amount of conditioning under my belt…I survived, but it was not pretty.  In my first marathon I met the wall at mile 19.  I actually thought it was a figure of speech, not an actual impenetrable obstacle!  I finished in 4:59:56 , a PR and a mental victory over absolute fatigue.  My wife finished an hour later and was only marginally better off than I was (she didn’t have to make an immediate trip to the medical tent).  Sammy finished two seconds behind me, but required both knees iced in the medical tent.  He actually got interviewed by the local TV station with both knees wrapped in ice bags, I guess they wanted to know how an old crippled guy finished the race in only 5 hours.

 The next hurdle for me was to ride my bike one hundred miles. Claudia and Sammy missed this, and did not regret it one bit!  I had ridden 59 miles at the Conroe race (twice) and a metric hundred (62 miles), but never 100 miles.  My wife had previously ridden a century charity ride so once again it was me venturing into unknown territory.  I heard about a hundred mile race in St Francisville and some of the guys from Lafayette were going up to race, so I decided to join in the fun.  Rouge Roubaix is not a good choice for your first century.   Mark, thanks for helping me make it all the way.  Smitty, you will forever be my hero for actually riding up that gravel mountain.  Trevor, don’t feel bad about walking up it, so did most of us……but it is too bad someone actually took your picture while you were doing it.  For more on Rouge Robaix, read Ben’s account of the race two years ago.  But thanks to that trial by fire, riding on paved roads for 112 miles was no longer so intimidating.  We have ridden 100 miles or more every week now for the last month and even got to ride with the flat bellies all the way to Kaplan before we were dropped on one good day.  We actually caught up with Mark and Smitty later on that ride, but only because they flatted multiple times and had to wait over half an hour for someone to bring another tube after they ran out of their own.

So now we have been training for six months and are in the last week of our build before the three week taper leading up to the ultimate event….Ironman Coeur D’Alene .

We have been training an average of three to four hours a day, six days a week, except Saturday when we average six to seven hours.  Our bodies are chronically exhausted, the recovery time for 58 year old muscles is better measured in days rather than hours, but with will power, juice plus, and 800 milligrams of Ibuprophen taken more often than is safe, we have preserved through the most demanding training schedule imaginable (for us anyway).  I understand that the rest of the athletes we have come to know do this on a regular basis, which only serves to increase our respect for them!  For my wife and me, we are looking forward to our last Ironman.  In our immediate future I can see us sitting comfortably in a golf cart or in the boat watching some other poor creature thrashing around in the water, fighting for its life.  At least it won’t be us!

We will participate in the Indian Creek race as a tune up prior to leaving for the race in Idaho .  We will be traveling in the motor home (ala Robin Williams in the big rolling turd) to and from the race and I will document our adventure as it unfolds, as well as the race itself.  Claudia, Sammy, Danielle, John Fell, and I will be making the two week road trip together which should prove to be quite an adventure in and of it self!

As we approach the Idaho border from Montana, (where I took a short detour in the middle of the night which set us back about six hours), my thoughts are turning to the race ahead in only five days.  My mind is full of anticipation, fear, and doubt.  Everyone has told us that we are ready and we will do well….of course, most of those folks have completed numerous ironman races.  Our primary goal is to finish the race and, if possible, to enjoy the experience.  I have tried to convince myself to treat the race as if it were only a long training day, but I worry that my competitive nature will drive me to push too hard early and leave me to suffer and die on the run.  I have committed to taking the speedometer off of my bike to reduce the chance of trying to achieve some arbitrary speed rather than staying within my limits.  The most exhilarating challenge I face is the mental one….I have done the training, but is it enough?  Will I hit or miss the hydration and nutrition formula I need to succeed?  Will I be mentally tough enough to work through the inevitable problems and obstacles?  Will the weather cooperate?  I am trying to leave my mind open to be able to go with the flow, but I can’t help imagining a best case scenario, and a target finish time…..It is probably not a good thing, but I feel it is better than focusing on anything negative before it actually happens.  If it does, I just pray I am up to coping with it.

I do know that once we get there and are in the center of all the hoopla of the pre-race activities, I will get progressively more hyped up.  By the time I am lined up for the swim start, I am sure my heart rate will be in the grey zone before the race even starts.  It seems such a monumental thing to undertake, knowing that it all comes down to that moment and all is focused on that one day’s efforts.

When race day finally arrived, I believe we were all outwardly positive but inwardly apprehensive and excited.  It was unseasonably cool, which was a good thing, but it was also windy.  So windy in fact, that while we were lined up on the beach awaiting the swim start, the race announcer informed us that the race officials had decided that anyone who did not want to swim due to the extremely rough conditions would be allowed to skip the swim leg and just compete in a duathlon of bike and run.  In true ironman fashion we all decided to swim anyway…..for me it was not a big issue…..for Claudia it was a monumental decision.  The cannon sounded and we were off.  I was in a fight and a swim was trying to break out!  I wondered why John had taken off so hard when the gun went off, but 300 meters later found out.  The weaker swimmers who had taken off hard were fading and the stronger swimmers were finding their pace and rhythm over (and through) the white capped chop.  I was caught in the middle with nowhere to go.  There were ten or fifteen people in front of me swimming shoulder to shoulder with no space to squeeze though or go around…there were hundreds behind who seemed determined to swim over anyone or anything in their path.  So I did the only logical thing…I tried to drink the lake dry by swimming with my head up looking for some escape route thereby turning the swim into a mud wrestling contest.  Seeing no other alternative I just put my head down, accelerated, and literally swam over the three hapless swimmers directly in front of me.  I kept up the strong pace for another three hundred meters to be sure they could not catch me because one of them was pretty big and I didn’t feel like explaining my race tactics at that point in the swim.  The rest of the swim was uneventful except for the rough conditions and a lot more hydration than I normally take during the swim.  Claudia, unfortunately, completed only one lap of the swim and was told by the officials that she could not start the second lap because she would not make the cutoff time.  However, she would be allowed to complete the race.  She waited in the changing tent for 30 minutes awaiting the start of the duathlon, when an official informed her she could start whenever she was ready.  Strike two! 

The bike was windy and very mountainous!  OK, not mountainous, but really big hills.  St Francisville on steroids.  I did ride well on the flats at a great heart rate, but the climbs took me way into the red zone and took a toll on my legs.  Everyone dropped me on the climbs and I watched hundreds pass me on the bike leg.  Training note:  train like you intend to race.  Our long training rides were punctuated by numerous and leisurely sag stops.  Racing is not punctuated at all!  Enough said. 

The run went poorly…..I had serious intestinal problems from unknown causes, but  I suspect some of it was due to my earlier race strategy of trying to drink Lake Coeur d’Alene dry.  I had severe stomach cramping, diarrhea, and a bloated sensation all at the same time.  I managed to finish the first loop in a respectable time none the less, but was deteriorating fast by mile 12.  I passed Sammy going out on his first loop and we stopped for a second to share our respective miseries….it seemed he also had been suffering some debilitating stomach problems as well and had lost significant time on the bike.  I believe John was behind me on his second loop of the run by then, because we never saw each other after the swim.  I made the turn around and did not stop to replenish anything at the run special needs because I was beyond ingesting anything by that point.  It would not have been hard to make the stop, as I was walking at the time.  I got to Danielle, who was faithfully waiting along the route to cheer each of us as we went by, and she told me Claudia had started her run just minutes before.  I asked how she was doing and Danielle told me Claudia had said she “felt bad” and that she was walking when she went by.  I caught up with her within a mile and Claudia was absolutely wasted.  The swim had taken her an hour and twenty two minutes for the first loop and the waves had battered her and sapped her strength…She also was experiencing some stomach problems as well.  The wind and the hills had drained the remaining strength from her legs and she was presently reduced to only a walk and did not have the strength to run.  With tears in her eyes she told me she didn’t think she could make the finish line by the midnight cutoff time, but was going to continue on until she crossed the finish line anyway.  I walked with her until the next aid station where she stopped to go.  Reluctantly, I left her and ran on ahead. Over the next five miles I discovered through trial and error that if I ate some pretzels washed down with Gatorade, walked a couple hundred meters, then ran to the next aid station I could tolerate the stomach cramping and hold off the diarrhea until I got there, where I would stop and go, refuel with pretzels and Gatorade and repeat the process.  I also discovered by trial and error that cola and chicken broth result in having to use the water at the next aid station to clean my shorts.  I passed Claudia again as I was returning on my last loop and she was still struggling badly….she put on a brave face, said she would be fine, and told me to go finish the race.  Sammy recovered sufficiently on the first loop of the run to turn in a respectable final loop although he spent a few delirious moments in the medical tent lounge chair wrapped in space blankets after he finished.  He told me he had passed Claudia just heading out on her second loop as he was finishing his run.  I later found out that she was the last racer allowed onto the course for the final loop.  Sammy told me he didn’t think she would be able to make the midnight cutoff.  I missed her at the turnaround because I had gone to get her transition bags so I could get the sweatshirt she had worn to the race that morning.  The temperature was dropping fast, it was beginning to rain, and the wind was really picking up.  The midnight cutoff came and went and the crews started breaking down the finish line in the rain….The few straggling racers showed up one at a time and crossed the finish line in the cold rain amidst the work crews taking down the barricades in a buffeting wind.  Finally, after 12:30 the final racer appeared on the final stretch to the finish line followed by the vehicle with flashing lights.  The streets were deserted, the town was dark and quiet except for the wind and a lone figure slowly walking toward the finish.  It was not Claudia!  I hailed the chase vehicle driver and asked if there were any racers still on the course. He told me no, but one woman had been transported to the medical tent by ambulance.  He assured me she was OK, but had collapsed on the course and been unable to go on.  My phone rang moments later as I ran toward the medical tent, and it was Claudia calling from the hotel lobby.  Crying, she told me she had been unable to finish the race and had collapsed from exhaustion and had to be transported back in the ambulance.  I later found out that the ambulance had been following her for a mile or two because she was weaving and staggering before her final collapse.

John is truly an awesome athlete, finishing 63rd overall, including the twenty professionals, in a time of 10:15 in very tough conditions.  I finished in 13:17 , and Sammy finished in 15:55 .  We are ironmen, we completed the course, and finished the race.  I received a hat, a shirt, and a medallion that all say FINISHER!  But my heart goes out to my wife who did not finish and did not receive the title ironman.  Nor did she receive a shirt, a hat, or a medallion that says finisher.  She is not able take pride in her accomplishment because she did not complete the course and finish the race. 

From my point of view, Claudia is the toughest of all of us.  She went into the well until the well went dry.  She went beyond the pain that many of us could have endured, and preserved long after most of the rest of us would have quit.  She resolved to finish the race no matter what it cost or whether anyone would be there to applaud her accomplishment.  I am here to applaud her accomplishment and to proclaim to the world that Claudia…. YOU ARE MY HERO!!!  And even if in my eyes only, “YOU are an IRONMAN”.

Postscript:

We all swore in training that this would be our last ironman.  Jody, now I know why you threaten to sell all your triathlon equipment every year.  We wanted nothing more to do with all that training, fatigue, and weekends dedicated to only training and recuperation.  Within hours of finishing the race, Sammy proclaimed, “How about Ironman Brazil next year?”  I couldn’t believe my ears!  Then I started thinking that my time at Coeur d’Alene was significantly slower than I thought I was capable of.  I could use the knowledge gained from this experience to train smarter and race better.  Claudia is still a bit reluctant but said today that she would consider Coeur d’Alene again (I think she has a score to settle).  So we will check into Brazil when we get back home and if that does not look feasible, then maybe another go in Idaho .  It is amazing to me how quickly your mind forgets the pain your body endures. 

I can honestly say that I believe we all enjoyed the experience and except for Claudia’s bitter disappointment at not finishing, none of us would trade the experience for anything.

More than anything else it taught us about ourselves and that the limits we place on ourselves are only arbitrary and can be exceeded by perseverance and sheer will to succeed.  I am certain that nothing will be able to replace the apprehension and exhilaration of our first ironman, but I am also certain that the next one will be a new grand adventure.  Now it is time to rest, recover, mend and heal…..then gear up, start training and climb to the peak of another great mountain.  After all, we are IRONMEN!