Ironman Canada 2006: Signing up, and my first Ironman lesson learned

I knew watching any part of the Ironman event would be emotional - but I didn't know I was going to walk around Penticton over the last two days staring at every athlete as if he or she were a god. Seriously!

But ogling the athletes wasn't the purpose of this trip: Signing up for 2007 was (and secondarily, securing housing for race week).

Danielle picked me up at 6 a.m. Sunday morning. I hadn't slept much all night - I felt like a kid on Christmas eve. I was so excited for the 6-hour drive! (I like road trips.) With a quick stop at Starbucks, we were on our way!

The drive up was uneventful, although it was cute that at the border crossing, the agent asked us where we were going, and when we said to Ironman Canada, he said, "You're a little late, aren't you?" (Not to mention we were in a VW bug jam-packed with camping equipment and no bicycles.) Right when we crossed into Canada, we started seeing cyclists with numbers, and soon realized we were watching the very back-of-the-pack racers heading out! They looked...well, very average. Just like me. It actually made me able to picture myself really doing it.

And then, as we approached Penticton, we saw the opposite: the very first cyclists returning to town. We drove alongside one of them for a while - it was slightly downhill and 30 mph speed limit, so the cyclist was pacing us. SO COOL. Danielle wanted me to yell out the window at the cylist, but I couldn't do it. We also watched a cyclist pee. This made me laugh because he had on a aero helmet and he was looking down at himself and the helmet was pointing straight up. Not very aerodynamic like that!

We parked as close as we could to the action and scoped out the scene. It was about 12:30 or so. We were carrying pink beach chairs, but not the rest of our gear - we figured we'd find the line, secure our position, then head back to the car for the rest. It took a while (during which we got to watch the leaders head out on the run - so cool!), but eventually we found the spot - and the line was still short (yeah. 20 hours before they open up registration, I guess it would be). We plopped down our chairs, introduced ourselves to our neighbors, and headed back to the car. We were about 20th in line!

Danielle brought everything - pink flamingos to put in the grass, glow sticks, more lawn chairs, blankets, sleeping bags, pillows, pads to sleep on, games, recorded TV on her IPod, music, books, magazines, and of course, beer. And chips. And a zillion other snacks. We alternatively hung out in line with the rest of the Ironman wannabes and took walks around to see the 2006 athletes. Our "neighbors" in line graciously watched our stuff, and we all shared beer and food and the music. Our spot, though, was really funny - everything pink!



Around 5 p.m. we were out on the run course and I saw my friend Jonathan. He didn't look great. I ran with him for a little bit and called his wife to tell him I'd seen him. Much more on Jonathan later...

Around 9 p.m. we were out walking again and saw Danielle's boss Sonja. Danielle was so happy we got to run with her for a bit, and Sonja looked fabulous.

I also saw Sister Madonna Buder - unfortunately, she didn't finish IMC. It was amazing just to see her, though.

We randomly ran into a friend, Doug, and his friend Steve while we were out wandering. We had saved places in line for them, which was a really good thing (for them) - by the time they arrived in Penticton, the line was more than a mile long, I think.

We did sleep some after the fireworks - maybe five hours - then stood in line in Starbucks for 45 minutes to get coffee. We also got to use Starbucks' nice clean bathroom to wash up. We had slept on the ground in sleeping bags - it was a nice night, not too cool, but definitely not the hot day we had in line (and for those athletes who raced!).

At 8:50, they opened the gates to registration. There were about 20 people doing the registration, so we were out of there by 8:55 with our registration codes! (You have to register online officially, but show up in person to get a certificate that allows you to register.)



Then we set out to find a hotel. We learned around 7:30 a.m. that the thing to do is line up at 5 a.m. to secure your hotel room; since we didn't, the first four hotels we went to said they were already booked. The fifth one though had rooms available (decent ones, too - I got a suite with two bedrooms, one queen bed and two twins, perfect for my family!) and by coincidence, the two guys in line next to us were also getting rooms there! So that will be fun.

Then we hit Denny's for breakfast. We were just heading out around 11 a.m. when my phone rang. It was Jonathan. I had pored over the newspaper so I knew he finished in 16:50, but he was a mess. The skin on the bottom of his feet had literally separated from the rest of his foot - sort of like a humongous blister. And even though this happened on the bike, he still ran (or walked) the entire marathon.

Jonathan described this ordeal, and I knew what was coming next: Could I possibly drive his car back? He had come up early in the week; his wife and five kids had come up only on race day. Um...okay. I guess.

I didn't want to. I hate driving. I HATE driving big cars. Jonathan's car? A Ford Expedition, pretty much the largest thing possible. Oh, and with no air conditioning - on a 93 degree day! I HATE being hot, and I HATE driving with the windows open and my hair blowing in my face!This was my road trip with Danielle! There was more fun to be had, more ideas to discuss! And I was annoyed at Jonathan. Is it brave or tough or strong to push on despite excruciating pain? Is it worth it?

Danielle said she admired him for it. I do not. Sorry, Jonathan, if you read my blog - I am happy for you that you finished, but I don't know that the price for that piece of metal around your neck and that hat with the word "finisher" stitched into it was or will be worth what you've paid for it.

Here's what I think: Everything happens for a reason. A couple of weeks ago, when John said I could do IMC, we agreed on a list of rules around my training and life for the next year. There are compromises I must make, for the good of my family and the people I love. And ultimately, it's not all about me. I know I can be selfish - just signing up for an Ironman is an inherently selfish thing - but through the next year I've promised to be a good wife, mother, employee, and whatever else I am that is in addition to triathlete.

So a year of training is selfish. But then, to get hurt so badly you can't go pick up your own bike from transition (Danielle and I did that) or drive your own car home - that extends the selfishness beyond the race for who knows how long. Jonathan said that he was so immobilized he couldn't help Karen with the five kids. And I'm left to wonder: Isn't she used to that by now?

The lesson for me here - and the reason I got involved in Jonathan's story today - is that I must be extremely mindful of the price everyone else around me pays because I want to do an Ironman. Jonathan's Ironman shouldn't have affected me; we're not even that close of friends. But it did (and yes - the drive home sucked every bit as badly as I thought it would). I know he appreciates what I did for him today, and I know it was the right thing for me to do - but I will be conscious of what my training and racing is doing to other people and do my best to minimize the negative impact they can have.

I need to do this race next year, and I need to finish it strong and on my own two feet in order to be happy with myself. If my time is exactly the same as Jonathan's or even slower, but I finish happy, I'll have met my goal. But I will not sacrifice my body, my heath, my friends, or my family to get there.