On Ironman Arizona

Here are the top 10 things I love about Ironman Arizona.

1)      Mike Reilly. The voice of Ironman. He starts talking at 5am and doesn't stop until well after the final person finishes at 12am. His job is to calm the athletes, but keep them energized; keep the thousands of spectators calm and energized; encourage, inform, give history of IM, give history of a competitor, break bad news to competitors, and he does it all with grace and finesse. Every competitor lives to hear him say their name followed by “you are an Ironman!” Last night he announced his son across the finish line. It felt so nice, he said it twice.

2)      The energy. There is nothing like the palpable energy at an Ironman event. Even at zero-dark thirty, it is just electric. The 2659 (yesterday’s count) athletes are like ping pong balls popping all over the transition area and everywhere you look are their family and friends giving them all the love and support they need. Spectators are dressed in coordinating t-shirts, bright pink wigs, funny hats, and anything else that will make them stand out to their athlete amongst the throngs of people. The clapping, cheering, sign waving, hooting and hollering, well, it makes a very long day a lot of fun and gives you and them the energy it takes to make it to the finish line.

3)      The poignant moments. There are moments at every race that take your breath away. The beautiful sunrise as the canon sounds to start the race. A 65 year old finishing in eleven hours. A competitor exiting the water 20 seconds after the cut off time and watching him being told his race is over. Witnessing someone stumbling along on the run and seeing them come back to life as the crowd cheers for them and yells their name. Watching someone in sheer pain who just keeps going. Seeing one of your friends have the race of their life.

4)      The Stories. Every competitor has one. As you stand there cheering, you naturally start talking to the stranger next to you and you find out their athlete’s story. Or, if you are in ear-shot of Mike, you’ll hear him talk about the competitors. “Mom of four and getting her doctorate, cheer her on folks!” “Heart transplant recipient who never thought he’d live to see another day!” “This guy has stage three cancer and is in chemo!” “This man has served our country in Iraq as a Marine…thank you for your service!” These one line nuggets make you connect with the thousands of athletes and with the stranger standing next to you.

5)      The Comradery. The triathlon community is one of the friendliest most supportive groups out there. Total strangers cheer you on and encourage you no matter if you are on a training ride or you are in the race. On race day, there is a ‘we’re all in this together’ attitude amongst the spectators. You stand for hours waiting for the few seconds that your family member or friend whizzes by you, and you recognize that race day is really about the hours you spend waiting. Good friends and new acquaintances make for a great day.

6)      The People Who Didn’t Get the Comradery Memo. There’s always some, right? These are the people who don’t seem to realize or care that there are five thousand other spectators around them. Their athlete is the only one that matters so  they will all but knock you over to get a good viewing spot, or just walk up and stand right in front of you, or stand on the run course so that the competitors have to run around them, or will come stand rightnexttoyou and pretend you are not there. But, these people make the day interesting and you make new friends as you look at someone else and shrug and smile at these people's rudeness.

7)      The Laughter. There are always competitors who dress up in some way. One year a guy had a teeny, tiny speedo on under his wetsuit and then exposed his cheeks and had something written on them in red ink. I don’t remember what it said because we were laughing so hard. Yesterday a guy on the run course was dressed like Forrest Gump. “Run, Forrest, Run!” could be heard and the dude finished in 11 hours. There was another guy dressed as the ASU mascot with horns, a jersey and a cape. Another guy looked like Fabio with his flowing hair and unzipped, off his shoulders jersey. Not sure he was trying for that, but the sight of him did make us laugh. Something new this year was spectators holding full blown photos of their athletes face. So funny and cool. Spectator signs are always good for a laugh. Someone in my group had a sign that said, “Embrace the Suck” which made people on the bike laugh out loud.

8)      The Pros. Some of the best triathletes in the world have competed at IMAZ. The course is flat and fast and some great times get posted. I’ve seen Chrissie Wellington, Chris Lieto, Matt Reed, Michille Jones, Jordan Rapp and so many others race and it is mind boggling what they can do. The lead male pros were out of the water in well under 50 minutes yesterday. And the first one across the finish line did it in 8:03. 8:03! That is amazing. Another thing about the pros is their bikes…their gorgeous, aero, tricked out bikes. Mmm, yeah. I like the bikes.

9)      The Possibilities. When you watch an Ironman you notice a few things. One is that athletes come in all shapes and sizes. And I mean all. Big, small, really big, really small, very tall, very tiny. Then there are the challenged athletes, amputees, paraplegics, cancer patients or survivors. And it stuns you, really. Not their size or their challenge, but their spirit. That they are doing a 140 mile race. That all these two thousand + people are swimming, biking, and running and are overcoming or have overcome themselves to get there. Because, really, Ironman racing is all about your mind. You can condition your body to do the distance, but your mind can shut you down very, very quickly. Fifty yards into the swim, a girl walked up the ramp I was sitting by and said she was done. She had gotten kicked in the stomach, threw up, and called it a day. Nothing the volunteers said or our cheers changed her mind. I’m sure she is regretting that decision at this very moment. But, you think, if they can do this race, if they can, what can I do? Can I overcome whatever has been holding me back from being a better me? What changes can I make in my own life? Am I letting getting kicked in the stomach take me out? Or am I enduring the pain for the sweet finish?

10)   The Finish. In Ironman, there are time cutoffs for each leg. The swim cut off is two hours and twenty minutes after the start. The bike cut off is 5:30pm. And the run cut off is midnight. So, you get 17 hours to complete the race. Fittingly, the finish line is like a huge dance party. Mike Reilly is there and the music is pumping. There is a big screen so you can see athletes approaching and there are bleachers along each side of the finish chute. As athletes approach, Mike says their name, age, hometown, etc, and you cheer for every single person that comes down the chute. If someone is hurting, the crowd cheers them in with a deafening roar, anything to get them across the finish line. You see people collapse, you see people crawl, and you see people jump for joy. As midnight approaches, the pros that won the race come down and cheer in the last few people. And as midnight approaches the crowds get thicker and the cheers get louder. This is the only sporting event where the last place person gets bigger cheers than the person who won the race. It is emotional, watching this person. And the euphoria is closely followed by heartbreak as it is tragic for the person who comes across at 17:00:01. They are not an Ironman. And you see them running for it, they see the clock, they understand it is ticking against them and some make it, and some don’t. It is a day of heartbreak and a day of unabashed joy. It is a great day and one I am glad to participate in.

Congrats to all you Ironman finishers out there!!!