There is something to be said for sitting on the sidelines and watching others perform great feats of physical strength and endurance. For example, I love attending Cirque du Soliel whenever I have a chance. The acrobats, jugglers, and clowns are not only talented, but they have trained their bodies for years to be superhuman. The Olympics, with all of its fanfare and spectacle, are another opportunity to see people from all walks of life around the globe stand on an international stage and prove to the world why they deserve to be there. I hold the same view of an Ironman event.
Although this was not my race to run, I wanted to watch my friends reach for their goals under the grueling race conditions on August 3rd. I was so proud of them! They worked so hard and wanted it so badly, I just had to bask in the glow of their acheivements. So Soren and I set to work on making signs for race day. We got out the poster board, markers and glitter glue to make half a dozen signs that we rarely used in the grand scheme of race day, but the process was fun. I got a lot of comments on the sign that read: "Ironman. 140.6 miles. Because 140.7 miles would just be stupid!" We bought a cowbell...you know, because we need one...and made a plan for race day.
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| Soren is throwing out his support for the riders. |
Although this may only be hearsay, my understanding was that the bike course for IMB crossed into 6 counties. As a one-loop, 112 mile bike course, my question was, "Where in all of that space do we go to cheer on our friends?!" With a little timing math, and some help from the race website, Soren and I found the perfect spot under the I-25 overpass. This put us at the race course around mile 80. When we actually found it. I don't know how we got lost on I 25, but we did.
We stood there under the overpass for about 45 minutes. During that time, I saw every emotion on the faces of these riders. One guy came by, sat up on his seat and waved his arms in the "Turn it up, I want to hear the crowd" attitude. A few riders came by and thanked the spectators for being there. there were many athletes that were so much in the zone, I'm not even sure they saw us, or cared we were there. Lots of riders smiling (or it might have been a grimace, but I prefer to think they were smiling), and every once in a while, there was the, "Holy crap, I'm gonna die" look. I mean, it was almost 90 degrees. Not bad for an August day on the high plains, but still warmish.
We were specifically looking for 3 people: Jim and Julie Mayo and Mark Mulligan. I followed these three very closely in the posted times. And yes, there's a app for that, which I checked every 30 seconds or so (OCD anyone?). At Bike Mile 80, we completely missed Jim, but I knew Julie was on her way, with Mark not far behind her. Julie came rocketing by us at what seemed like 90 miles per hour. She was already 20 feet past me before I realized it was her, but I screamed at the top of my lungs anyway. Not long after that, Mark whizzed by us...I saw him and yelled so loud for so long, I was hoping my volume would propel him for the last 30 miles into town.
Then we had to get into downtown Boulder in the middle of an International event. mmmmK....We muscled through the traffic and lucked out on Pearl Street parking. I have to say that hanging out on Pearl Street was odd for this CU alum. It looks so different, yet not much has changed. All of my favorite stomping bars are gone, but my favorite shops are still there. I digress. Ironman on Pearl Street was perfect. It was picturesque and lively, with incredible buzz and energy. So Soren and I had an adventure trying to figure out where to watch the runners. Well, first we hit the Ironman store. That's where we got the cowbell, and Soren got his shirt. On the back of this great shirt is a list of the athletes participating. So cool.
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| Future Ironman? |
We tried to catch our friends at T2, but missed them. However I did see one of my favorite Mother Runners, Dimity McDowell, co-author of "Run Like a Mother," and Ironmother. She was a volunteer in the T2 tent. Her 6' plus height and bubbly personality were a dead giveaway. So awesome to see her!
Soren and I moved on to the Boulder Creek trail to watch the runners. If you have ever seen an uphill stage during the Tour de France, you get the idea of the energy. Narrow passage, lined to the gills with people yelling, ringing cowbells, and throwing out so much encouragement the spectators practically impede the athletes' progress. Oh my gosh it was so fun!!! While I stood course-side, Soren played in the creek. Just picture perfect. I saw Jim rocket by me at his 13 mile mark, as I screamed encouragement along the way. Not far behind him was Julie, smiling from ear to ear! I hollered out to her and she stopped to give me a happy, "It's great to be alive" kind of hug! We waited a bit for Mark who, as I was interpreting his run pace on my IronTrac App, was not running but rather walking. Can't say I blame him. He came up the creek at his 10 mile checkpoint smiling, and stopped, saying "You do NOT want to give me a hug right now." I responded, "the heck I don't!" and gave him a huge hug.
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| Meeting Mark at the finish line...the kid is tired, too. |
While waiting for my friends, I saw the smilers...people who were thrilled to be there; the haters...those who were despising every mile, and visibly questioning why they thought signing up for an Ironman was a good idea; and the inspired. There were the walking wounded and the triumphant rockstars. I saw at least two people with prosthetic legs kicking serious butt, as well as a man pushing a Bob stroller with I can only assume was his physically/mentally challenged child. I have seen this before: a parent who pulls their child on a raft during the swim, pulls a bike trailer for 112 miles, then pushes them in a stroller for the full marathon. This is a big deal for me, and it brings tears to my eyes.
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| Playing on Boulder Creek. |
Through all of this, Soren played, rang the cowbell, held up signs, and found every playground between Boulder High and Pearl Street. My brother, Chris came into town wearing his "IM Support Crew" t-shirt (that I got for him when I thought I would be competing on this day), and hung out with us into the late hours of the evening. I was so proud of Soren for his patience and fortitude during this long, hot day. It was fun to see him get into the excitement of the event.
The finish line was absolutely crazy! Loud and raucous with a cacophony of cowbells and screaming supporters, it was electrifying! We ran into Jim and Julie after they had already finished looking triumphant with their incredible races behind them. I was so proud of both of them! Later, we waited for Mark who had picked up his pace and crossed the finish line just before 10 PM. We found him getting his pictures taken, wished him congratulations, and headed to the car.
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| With a triumphant Jim and Julie |
In the end, I had experienced a wide range of emotions. in the days and weeks prior to the race, I watched my friends and Facebook training group get amped, nervous and excited. They shared their pre-race nightmares, and ask their "no dumb" questions. As they hit their taper weeks, the anticipation creeped in, and I started feeling like I was being left behind. 24 hours before the race started, I hit my lowest. I actually regretted my decision to drop out of the race. I wished I had kept going and would be racing alongside my friends. It was awful. I was near tears the night before the race, I was so bummed. Frankly, it was irrational and silly to feel that way, but nonetheless, I did. Until about 2:00 in the afternoon on race day. When I saw the faces of the runners on Boulder Creek, and felt the heat of the road under the I-25 overpass, I got over that really fast. No regrets over dropping out of Ironman Boulder.
So I got to share an amazing day with my racing friends. I got to cheer for them along the course and scream at the top of my lungs at the finish line. I am so proud of them, and every single athlete there that day. I am not convinced that 140.6 is not in my future, but for now, I get to bask in the glow of my friends achievements, be proud of them today. So congratulations Mark, Julie and Jim and all of the other athletes who gave their best. I stand in awe of you! You are an Ironman!
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| Julie's exuberant celebration at the finish! |
Stay tuned for my next blog: Soren's first Triathlon!
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