Many theories abound when it comes to social media and how it's supposed to work. Part of my social media package has been to maintain many different platforms, one of those platforms being this blog. As avenues for contact with a general audience shift to the hand held so better your chosen platforms. Blogs seem to be drifting as a platform with a society that in my opinion is moving to a bullet point based consumer. So then why chose to support a blog at all? Especially in my case where posts can get very lengthy and long winded, as represented here. To be honest the reason I continue to support this blog is largely for myself. I for the most part continue to choose this platform as a method of capturing memories - for myself. Before sponsors began to believe in me and my journey I chose private platforms. Once I moved to a public platform my writing style too would change. Public consumption is and should be approached differently then private. A chosen audience may be let behind the curtain a little more then the public.
One theory about blogging may be the need to post more then just race reports or a 100% race based product. It's hard for me to think this way and still produce a product I feel suitable for public consumption on this particular blog spot. A bit of growth is never a bad thing just maybe not in this particular post. The following may be a departure from a direct race based post but not a departure from triathlon, it's training and how it's lessons continue to shape who I am and the direction I chose to pursue.
In an effort to grow and learn from lessons of this season past I have attempted to boil it down. When you are given the opportunity for what should/could be the largest season of your triathlon career trying to reduce it to a few single moments that have shaped your season isn't as easy as it could/should be in other years.
One of the best moments from last season was watching with great pride as Bootsy qualified for Kona for her third time. Another key moment was my qualification and racing in Kona. These were monumental moments for both of us as individuals and as a couple. I couldn't have dreamed for such a scenario to play out.
Once these phenomenal opportunities are removed, what's left? What else can I point to as the moments that helped shape my season and carried the larger lessons? There where two seminal moments in the 2016 season for me. The first moment being injury unlike any I have ever experienced, the second was the loss of a training partner.
If there were a way to improve your chances for fitness success by 10, 20 or even 30% would this opportunity get your attention? How about a technique to make exercise more fun on a daily basis? A tool that automatically creates space and time in your schedule for run workouts? A proven way to help push you out the door, out of a rut or through a plateau?
It may all sound too good to be true, but countless endurance athletes, including myself, have found the right training partner can do all this and so much more.
Exercise partners provide a powerful combination of support, accountability, motivation and in some cases, a healthy competition. Although never one to take to the water and those little legs could have never powered a bike, they could and would however out sprint me across the park to the front porch of our home every time. Even in his latter years.
The emotion of grief may be triggered by the loss of something loved or as a result of a life circumstance. It could be believed that if we have effectively mourned a loss we will then achieve closure. The notion that one mourns a loss and then gets over it, to the extent that emotions about the loss are not triggered in the future, in my opinion, is a myth.
It's my belief that any personal loss, later and repeatedly, brings longing and sadness. As time passes, the intensity of feelings about the loss may lessen, we might also find ways to soothe or distract ourselves, this beginning the process of partially burying grief-related feelings through the process of creating new memories. But we may never get over the feeling of it being next to impossible: for me I have found it hard to erase emotional memory. Besides it's maybe not about achieving closure at all. Instead maybe I should attempt to figure out what I'm going to do when emotion of memories are later triggered.
My experience with the breed began in college. A lifetime friend had a Siberian Husky as a companion who traveled most places with him. Sasha was bright, beautiful and full of life. Throughout my college years I wondered if the day would come when I would bring a Siberian into my life with everything the breed has to offer.
In the early 2000's I had the opportunity to do some photography work for an international company who had bought the Carnation Corporation. Part of the Carnation brand at one point was a line of dog and cat foods. In development a line of dogs and cats were held. To keep in the tradition of this history, Nestles introduced three lines of dogs to be breed on the grounds, one of which were the Siberian Husky. These three breeds were cut from some of the best lines in the world and were available only to employees from around the globe.
When I placed my order for what would eventually become Butch, I was looking for some very explicit features starting with a male, the females are generally higher in intelligence and have been known as escape artists. I also sought the traditional black and white markings, piercing blue eyes and a reasonably low key temperament suitable to be a training partner and the companion I craved. The staff at Nestles were very professional in all aspects of the health of the breeds and furthering a world class line but they were also very thorough with the needs of all special requests so after 18 months Pavlov Butch Chinook was delivered.
Smile Butch
Those eyes got him out of a lot of sticky situations.
A Siberian is an athletic, intelligent breed that can be independent and challenging for a first-time dog owner. They are not know to be aggressive, do well with children, and will welcome everyone into their home - even intruders. The fact is that they tend to love everybody. Ordinarily your most extreme danger with a Siberian is being licked to death.
Siberians are a high-energy, gregarious breed that must have an occupation. They are a working dog bred for strenuous work hauling sleds in difficult terrain and weather conditions. A Siberian will demand attention and will get it one way or another. If not provided an occupation, they will find one, and you may not like the method chosen.
Siberian Huskies dig. If your lawn and flowers are the pride and joy of your life... I may caution you against this breed. Butch would dig holes to cool off in the summer and would dig what would appear to be cozy nests in the snow. It didn't matter snow or no snow Butch's instinct said, "Dig!!" Butch and I had few contentions through out our time together so in this case we would simple agree to disagree.
Butch was strong, stubborn, independent and rambunctious. Another way to say that may be Butch was powerful, persistent, smart and full of energy and stamina, desirable traits in a training partner, but in a house pet only if he were well trained. In time Butch became a polite and relatively calm house pet but only when met with companionship, training and exercise - lots of exercise.
We all have those days when we have no ambition to do what's best for ourselves and our goals. I was struggling to get back into the endurance world, this is when Butch entered my life.
Running long distances is what Butch was bred to do. This ability didn't go away when it wasn't part of his normal routine. Butch had a special way of getting the chosen off the couch and out the door.
There just would be no saying no. No matter the season, no mater the weather, he was going to get what he wanted and what he wanted was exercise, preferably a run. Butch loved doing anything with us especially if it were what he was bred for, it helped satisfy his natural desire to work and to be part of a pack.
Dogs shouldn't start running until their growth plates are closed. That meant we would wait until Butch was one or even two years old before we would begin any type of structured running. We worked with our vet and were given the green light to start running Butch at 18 months old.
So we were first time dog owners with a puppy with plenty of energy and the natural instinct to pull when on a leash or in a harness. We had seen plenty of example where a Siberian owner had failed to teach their puppy not to pull when walking. In many cases the argument could be made that the dog was walking the pet owner not the other way around as the pet dragged the owner around the neighborhood. We were warned of this early and made the decision this could not be in our case.
When faced with the task of training the instinct to pull out of a rambunctious high energy Siberian puppy lots of short-long walks are necessary. How this is done is when on the collar each time your puppy pulls or creates tension, what the puppy is looking for is tension on the collar against his neck, each time this would happen we would stop and sit. Eventually teaching the pet that tension meant a stop and sit or a diversion from the goal, a goal of covering distance through exercise. Butch and I had many long walks that would only cover the distance of around the block, each time he pulled we would stop until he was sitting along side of me. There were plenty of times we wouldn't take a step forward without Butch leaving the sit position only to start pulling again. We wouldn't cover much ground in the beginning but with time he would begin to learn tension means sit, no tension means freedom, freedom to move as one with whomever would take him out to be exercised.
Since Butch was brand new to running, we started with just a few minutes as few as five and at most as much as 15 minutes. It's a mistake thinking dogs are born with some sort of mysterious fitness. They're not. Their bodies need to adapt to exercise the same as a person's.
I loved running with Butch, his enthusiasm and sense of adventure always on full display. He would push for additional exercise on every run, only heat as a motivating factor to wrap it up. Butch would accompany us on 3 to 4 runs a week on average. We would eventually train him to run as far as 18 miles mostly on trails through Riverside State Park. We would carry a small collapsible water bowl so we could get him water along the way or we would pull over along the river for a short time to allow him to drink and cool standing waste deep. Days that were unseasonably warm we would leave him at home or just take him for a longer walk. It would always prove a challenge to get away from the house in running cloths on warmer days. It didn't take Butch long to figure out the difference between running and cycling cloths. If I were in running shoes I would have a Siberian stuck to my leg.
There would come a time when we would begin to ponder Butch's retirement from running. Because there are days when Bootsy needs to train in the early morning hours we would bring in another running partner as Butch approached his retirement years. We decided to bring in another breed and that's when Kailua came to live with us.
Two big dogs in our home was never something we would have considered if we were not in need of another training partner. Wanting to be sure Kai would be ready to pick up where Butch left off, we decided to bring her in when Butch reached the age of 10 and had begun to slow down. We understood the life expectancy for a Siberian is between 12-14 years so we would need time for Kai to mature into the running partner and companion we looked to move forward with.
My two favorite ladies.
As Butch's body began to slow his spirit did not. He would struggle when Kai would be harnessed for a run but he would not. I had a great deal of guilt when forced to leave him behind for the run portion of the workout. We would return post run and pick him up for a walk during the cool down portion.
Although it was best for Butch to retire as we could see his body had worn to the point where his spirit would carry him a little to far from time to time and we were left to watch as his aging body paid the price. My guilt when leaving Butch behind was based largely in the fact that I knew he felt deprived of the very thing he was bred to do but it was personal as well. Butch had been there for every step of my growth in the endurance world and I didn't want that to change - on a personal level. I moved up an age group last year now racing in the M 50-54 A.G. which by the way is a line in the sand of noticeable magnitude. I have to wonder if the opportunity to P.R. (Personal Record) is also beginning to dwindle. To stand by and watch Butch on the back side of his "arc of fitness", I would have to evaluate if this were a mirror image of mine. Never a bad idea to evaluate where you are in your endurance career from time to time but also never an easy exercise.
When Butch left us I was heart broken in the same way anyone would be with the lose of a long time companion. But there was something else for me in this case, something I wasn't completely prepared for. After all it wasn't a secret he would someday soon be gone, he was a large breed at the age of 13 for goodness sake. I however was surprised by how much emotion I had tied to his little wagon.
I get it Butch was "just a dog" and his only true fault was that his life was to short, but what he represented in my head, in my heart and as a partner in the my growth in the endurance world, this would take some evaluation.
In the few years leading up to Butch's arrival, I had gotten to a place where I had lost confidence in myself. The softball diamond became my outlet for my competitive spirit and for a while it had become my sanctuary. Although I was having some success on the diamond my drive to stay at the competitive local level had began to dwindle along with my confidence.
Be it right or wrong, sport has had a huge impact on how I view myself, how I define myself and that in turn affects my self esteem. This also has an affect on my confidence because confidence comes primarily from self esteem.
Sport brings goal setting, strength and structure. Without these I began to tear myself down and in the process lose confidence. It was reflected in the lose of passion for things away from sport, weight gain and in the fact that I began to look at only the things I didn't like about myself. Sport provided the avenue to once again embrace who I was and a to re-establish a missing confidence.
Butch helped begin the process of healing most of these issues as he pushed me back toward an old friend, toward a form of sport that is triathlon.
As Butch aged and his running health began to decline, I found myself re-examining the time in my life before his arrival and all things that brought disappointment in myself. So it would seem natural that I would link his companionship and drive to most of the good things I enjoy through sport.
Kia is a wonderful training partner and companion. I can rest easy when Bootsy steps out into the early morning air for a run with Kia by her side. But for as wonderful as it is to be out there losing ourselves in a run on the trails through the park, I often times find myself revisiting time spent with Butch as Kai and I cover the same ground covered with Butch by my side. Creating new memories with Kai is a welcome and enjoyable activity but to be honest there have been runs were I have been forced to stop and walk as I worked through the emotions and memories of runs with Butch. The need to work through this style of emotional memory is expected but there have been more then enough memories that continue to catch me off guard.
I have a longstanding tradition each Saturday in the fall of the year. Fall brings football season which in turn brings the ESPN product Gameday. I have for years been out of bed each Saturday by 5:45 a.m. in preparation for Gameday viewing, Butch at my feet as I sit in solitude for 3 hours of football zen.
This year at 5:45 a.m. on the much anticipated opening day of College Football I could't get out of bed knowing Butch wouldn't be at my feet. My heart just to heavy to carry forward in a tradition I completely revel in. It was a defining day as I eventually would make my way through something that was a complete blindside.
Emotional memories are all part of the process and some of it's moments keep surprising me. But I am also beginning to celebrate the memories as they sneak up on me. For example, this fall I was gifted with a weekend on the Grande Ronde River in pursuit of Sea Run Rainbow. As my fishing partner and I stepped into the clear cool water of one of our favorite spots on the river he mentioned rather matter-of-factly "The last time I took a fish in this hole Butch was with us". A great memory that brought a smile for both of us.
In the end, triathlon is a large part of my life because it is my chosen lifestyle, a lifestyle Bootsy and I continue to enjoy for all it gives us on a daily basis. Butch's roll in this lifestyle going forward will be largely unfulfilled as we move forward without him, Kai by our side. As I continue my growth in this lifestyle I will carry the lessons learned with him and from him but his presence and what he represented can never be replaced.
Butch was never much interested in family portraits.
I don't know, maybe one day we will chose to bring another Siberian into our lives. The joys of the breed have been a life long pursuit. But for now Butch has set the bar pretty high and any comparisons to that bar would be unfair to everyone involved.
"Until one has loved a dog, a part of one's sole remains unawakened" - Anatole France
That little word, those four little letters, for some they can represents a lifetime achievement. For me it's an opportunity to stand in centerfield at the Cathedral that is Yankee Stadium during the seventh game of the World Series, it's my Tour de France, it's my chance to play in the Superbowl. For those in the Ironman community, for the athletes, their families, for their friends, it also represents dedication. A dedication only those who "have some skin in the game" could ever understand. A dedication that comes from a lifestyle choice. A lifestyle that continues to be lived by many who participate at the distance but to have the opportunity to step onto the hollowed ground of Kona, the pinicale of the sport, this is something revered by all.
At the risk of sounding like a Chinese fortune cookie, the fulfillment lies in the journey, not the destination. Enclosed is a mix, a mix of experiences when gathered leads to more then a destination, they constitute a journey. A journey that would eventually lead to Kona and to that little white line on Ali'i Drive, a place where dreams come true. The following is a disjoined group of experiences. Disjointed in the fact that this is how my season has gone and it's O.K. We as the athlete who made up this years addition of the Ironman World Championship all stepped into the blue of the Pacific Ocean with a story or a package if you will. This package contained what each athlete would be able to give on this day. Their stories for the most part already written, it was now time for the final chapter to play out. Ultimately I came to this race as an observer. I knew from Bootsy's past experiences you don't "race" this venue the first time, you lean how to race it - if you're lucky. As you will see I came to experience the day, to stand inside the ropes and to give my very best on this day whatever that would bring.
When I got word July 7th, 2015 that I would be granted a slot to Kona through the Legacy Program I was thrilled, I was elated, I was terrified. I have never chased the qualifying terms of the Legacy Program where in order to qualify one must complete 12 full Ironman branded races. Bootsy and I have continued to race long, again it's a lifestyle and we enjoy the benefits this lifestyle provides.
If there had come a time when I no longer wanted to pursue full Ironman racing even if my number completed had grown to 10, 11 or even 12, I knew I would move away from the distance and still be comfortable with my decision, a decision not to chase 12 or more with the soul purpose of applying for qualification. The enormity of the training and racing needs to fit or it just wouldn't be worth it for me, not even for the opportunity to stand on the stage that decides who's best in the world. The task would just be to large without a 100 percent commitment from myself and from all those around me.
Additional terms of qualification are that you must have completed a full distance Ironman branded race the two years prior to the qualification year and also be signed up for a full during the same calendar year. Which I obviously had done but not without challenges.
Bootsy and I have been blessed with multiple years of more then one full distance Ironman start line. As a matter of fact she has one calendar year where she raced 5 full distance Ironman races. Granted one of those races were Kona but that's a lot to ask of an Age Group athlete who also has a full time job and tries to maintain some semblance of a personal life.
Last year I wasn't interested in multiple full distance races or I only felt compelled to sign up for one, Ironman Coeur d'Alene. IMCDA is our hometown course and first love so I was happy to be back racing on a course that rewards her competitors with a finish on Sherman Avenue, the best finish in all the world outside of Kona itself, in my opinion.
IMCDA met us with what would be the hottest race day temps of any North American race ever staged. It was awful and my race didn't go as planned which left me walking the entire marathon and out on course for 16:23:35. It was a long day for sure but my completing the race, my soldiering on under less then ideal conditions was for one reason and one reason only - it was to complete IMCDA. And to be able to complete it in conditions that are now legendary, well that was icing on the cake. I only realized later if I would have elected to drop out of the race for any one of a multitude of reasons, to DNF, it would have effected my ability to apply for qualification to Kona. It just never crossed my mind that day, but in the end I'm obviously glad I did finish and now for more then one reason.
There's something hypnotic about the climate in Kona; everyday it's sunny and 80 degrees, everyday there are gentle trade winds to take the edge off the humidity, everyday... but at Hawi the winds pick up. The winds come from the northeast, from somewhere in the vastness of the Pacific Ocean. As they travel toward the unprotected chain of islands sitting vulnerable in the huge expanse of water, they pick up power, and speed, and force, finally crashing into the scattered bits of land. These strong trade winds funnel through the major channels between the islands at speeds 5-20 knots faster than the speeds over the open ocean. But the winds do more than whip the sea into a frenzy, they stir the blood and tear at the emotions, thrusting even temperate men into destinies they will never forget. I've always felt drawn to the lands edge to watch the winds come in, as if I were somehow... part of the drama.
May 6th of this year I tweaked my back, a lingering injury. Six week later I had returned to regular training and a full volume on a path that would eventually lead to Kona and her start line.
"The labrum is a piece of fibrocartilage (rubbery tissue) attached to the rim of the shoulder socket that helps keep the ball of the joint in place. When this cartilage is torn, it is called a labral tear. Labral tears may result from injury, or sometimes as part of the aging process."
July 3rd Bootsy and I were spending the holiday weekend at a family cabin on the shores of Priest Lake, ID. It was a recovery week as she had completed Ironman Coeur d'Alene 70.3 the weekend prior. A race I was signed up for but elected to drop out of only because I wasn't sure my back was 100 percent ready for a 70.3 race effort.
Because it was a recovery week Bootsy and I brought our mountain bikes as Priest Lake provides many pristine trails and access roads for riding. A decent on one of these access or logging roads saw me falling off. It was a slow speed crash but not without injury. Initally I thought only my ego had been bruised but I would soon realize it was a bit more. I was left with a broken hand and what is believed to be a labral tear in both shoulders. Not good!
The shoulders haven't been imaged but all the symptoms point to torn labrum and we certainly have treated them as so. Under advise of one of my medical professionals we would wait until after the race to have them imaged. My Doctor understood that I was racing Kona regardless of the injury and I would do what ever it took to get to the start line to the best of my ability. As he stated "It's ONLY a 17 hour race. We should be able to control the symptoms of the injury for a mere 17 hours." Thanks Doc.
As a Legacy athlete in Kona I get it, this is my one and only chance to race. Because of this I wanted to come to the islands earlier then we had the past two times Bootsy raced here. I wanted the opportunity to experience it all so we flew in Monday to get settled in and build up bikes before the official activities of the week began. This would also allow a few more days to acclimate. Hey I need all the help I can get.
When it came time for professional help with my shoulders I choose Dr. P.Z. Pearce. I choose him for more then one reason, I have a past history with him and he is an endurance athlete who has raced in Kona. I was confident that he would understand where I was with the injury and would cut through most of the preliminary "stuff" because after a single key word he would fully understand what we were up against. So after answering a few questions about the injury itself I looked him straight in the face and uttered that one single word - "Kona". The appointment took on a completely different tone from that moment forward. I didn't need to explain that I would be racing no matter what or what October 8th and the 17 hours I would be allotted to complete the Ironman World Championship meant. He already knew so we moved forward to formulate a game plan to get me there. The main emphasis would be P/T in an effort to get back to a level of training that would get me through what we both understood would be a very long race day. I immediately called B&B Physical Therapy to speak with Dr. Mike Lauffer another endurance athlete who "gets it".
As I sat in my car outside of P.Z.'s on the phone with Mikey I took a moment to read the script that Dr. Pearce had written for P/T, it was for thirty visits. The magnitude of the injury began to to hit me. Thirty is a huge number of visits in the short window of time before Kona. I began to wonder - Can this be done? Is my race for all intents and purposes, over?
Being in the aero position on a tri bike is the most efficient position and puts the weight of the body on the skeletal structure, taking it away from being solely supported by the muscular structures. One issue of the aero position is any jarring from the road runs up the skeletal structure of the arms into the shoulders. The muscle asked to support the shoulder when in the aero position is for the most part the rotator cuff. When the rotator cuff begins to fatigue the labrum is asked to support the shoulder. With a labral tear in both shoulders this creates discomfort. To alleviate or reduce the discomfort I would be forced to sit up, this putting me in far less efficient position on the bike.
The purpose of the physical therapy would be to strengthen the rotator cuffs and the entire mechanics of my upper back as well as my core. Mike at B&B put me through a complete regiment of exercises designed to do just this. I was surprised how weak these areas in my back were but Mike assured me the weakness was do primarily to the trauma of the injury. Mike expected them to respond quickly but I worried it was my 50 years on this earth that we would have to work across or in other words they were this weak from the life I have lead and to get to where we needed to be before we even began to entertain the idea of getting in the pool would be monumental.
The Parade of Nations would be our first official activity in Kona. It is organized, all be it loosely. We lined up by nation behind the King Kamehameha's Kona Beach Hotel to stage the parade. The atmosphere is relaxed and very low key. It was an honor to represent my country and to do it with Bootsy by my side, well this was more then I could have ever asked or imagined. As we walked I gave a high five to any outstretched hand I saw, mostly children. This was my first opportunity to look into the eyes of the people who had come to Kona to witness the race and into the wide eyed children as they look upon me as an athlete, an athlete competing in the Ironman World Championship. A pretty defining moment I will admit.
Physical therapy never goes as scripted, right? It's a fluid process that is slow and arduous. A labral tear can be a very deceptive injury. The labrum is designed to keep a very unstable shoulder joint in place. When torn the ball of the joint can slip out or move. Trust me it's obvious when this happens, your body will let you know. When the shoulder is in place and the labrum is riding as designed it's relatively pain free but there are some simple arm motions that allow the shoulder to drop out. As the arm is lifted up and forward from a resting position there is a point where the rotator cuff disengages and the labrum is asked to stabilized the shoulder. It's this motion that can cause my shoulder to drop out. With about 5 weeks to go until the race one of these basic movements caused my left shoulder to fall out and was all fired up. Because of this I was unable to train for a full week while Mike worked to get it to calm down. I couldn't even run, the one discipline that usually is unaffected. To be honest the thought of dropping out of the race was entertained during this week, never spoken of but entertained.
Mike worked his magic eventually getting it to calm down but he offered more then physical support, he also talked me down from the ledge more then once. He made it very clear this was a mere setback and yes it would keep me out of the pool for some additional time but not to worry, we would get to the swimming when the time came.
The best or only way really, to train for iron distance racing is with consistency. Day in and day out getting the job done even if the intensity of some of the workouts aren't perfect, be consistent. I wasn't afforded this "luxury" but this was all part of my journey.
Dig Me Beach is something that must be experienced. It serves as the race swim start and also where pre race swims are staged. Bootsy and I needed to get into the water to not only get a feel for it but to continue to shake off the affects of our travel. As we stepped into the water I took a look around, it was time to engage the race, time to continue my focus on what lie ahead. I had 13 races to lean on but because of the nature of the injury I had no idea what it was going to be like out there for the 2.4 mile swim. Would the shoulders fire up right out of the gate or would my restricted swim stroke get me down the road a bit before this happened? Coming in with almost zero swim fitness, how would this affect me not only in the swim but thought the rest of my day? There were lots of unknown variables for an athlete with the experience of 13 races.
There is a local coffee company and Blue Seventy who set up a boat off the end of the pier to deliver coffee and prizes to whom ever wants to swim out to them. Our plan was to swim out grab some coffee and make our way back, I needed to keep the swim short. As I waited my turn to grab some very hot coffee the natural motion of treading water began to aggravate my left shoulder. Good to know for race day. As we made our way back to shore my right shoulder began to fire up. The right shoulder is "the good shoulder", the left shoulder housing the majority of the issues. This left me a bit shaken I will admit. I practiced floating on my back in the very buoyant salt water, something I wondered if I would have to do on race day in an attempt to rest the shoulders.
Dig Me Beach
Photo by James Richman.
(If you're going to steal photo's, steal them from this guy. James never disappoints!)
O.K. I'm old school. If I were to sprain an ankle while running I want the white athletic tape for support. Athletic taping is the process of applying tape directly to the skin in order to maintain a stable position of bones and muscles during athletic activities. I'm a strap it down kind of guy. I understand the physiology of the support the tape is designed to give. Kinesiology or Kinesio tape doesn't work this way, at all.
Dr. Brain Mather at Spokane Chiropractic & Sports Injury clinic is another health professional who played a key roll in getting me to the start line. Upon "limping" back into his office after the crash he suggested Kinesio tape. I had never looked into Kinesio tape and frankly my ignorance toward the product was mostly because I am old school. Yes I watched the summer Olympics, I saw Kinesio tape on some the athletes and I still didn't educate myself about the tape and how it works but at this point I was ready for snake oil. Not comparing the two here on any level, it's just in reference my desperation.
Brian explained the tape in terms I could grasp, not only how it works but how we would try a few different versions of taping and what each version is designed to do. Let me tell you the stuff really worked for me. My shoulders while on occasion would still slip out the recovery time or the amount of time it would take my shoulders to calm down was greatly reduced.
I would see Dr. Mathers a minimum of once a week to have the tape reapplied and on the last visit before traveling to the islands Bootsy would accompany me to video tape the application as he talked her through the process so she would be able to reapply the tape race week as needed.
Being on the pier on race morning is mesmerizing. There are no guarantees no matter how you prepare, no matter how much you want it that it will be O.K. I have always believed the best relief for worry is exercise. At 6:50 a.m., for the men, it was time to do just that.
I had no idea what to expect when it came to the swim. As Bootsy and I made our way to the water we were lucky to be able to do it together. I was comfortable with getting in near the back of the men's pack because that's exactly where I had planned to swim. I walked down the stairs to gaze out over the Pacific and engage my day, a day I had spent so many hours dreaming what this moment might be like. Before putting on my goggles and moving toward deeper water I took a moment, I looked at the masses lining the pier and entire bay, I looked at my fellow competitors, I stood there for a brief moment as a fan as I tried to soak it all in.
I had the opportunity to walk into the water with friend and 6 time Kona participant Roger Thompson. I mentioned I planned to swim in the back and he recommend I start to the left. It would be out of the traffic of the men's swim start and there is less current over there. Swimming to the left would also leave me out of the way of the women's race as they started 20 minutes behind us but I knew they were coming.
I started in the very back and because I purposely got to the start line later then most I didn't have to tread water much. When the gun fired I let the group go and looked for open water. I was not interested in contact thinking it was best to avoid a swimming "scrum" and take the longer wider route. I stayed as far left as the volunteers would let me getting chased back toward center more then once. I swam alone with the immortal words of Al Trautwig playing in my head: "You are in Hawaii! And you are in the Ironman!"
As I approached the catamaran which serves as the turning point on the far end of the swim course I hadn't been caught by the lead women. I tried to stay wide but the volunteers set a narrow course at the corners. I made one last check over my right should to be sure not to cut anyone off. As I did so I was met with a wall of pink caps, the lead women were on me and in great numbers. There couldn't have been a worse spot to get caught by the best swimmers in the women's field so I swam out into the kayaks to stay out of the way explaining to more then one volunteer that I was there in an effort to stay out of the way of the large packs for women as they moved through.
At about the 3/4 mark in the swim there was a kayak making a effort to narrow the athletes so I moved over to where I was uncomfortable with how close I was to the buoys. Immediately there was someone tapping on my feet and not just a little. It seem this athlete was doing it on purpose so I tried to move to my left to let her through but this athlete had moved up on my hip and left shoulder. I pulled my left arm under my chest and delayed for a stroke or two to let her pass when I realized it was Bootsy. She was just saying hello and that she was glad I was doing well. Knowing Bootsy was in the water can help the mind but it doesn't help the body as I was getting early signals of how my body might perform on this day. So far, so good.
As a whole the swim was uneventful and my shoulders had fatigued but with minimal discomfort. Pre race goal was to simply make the cutoff of 2:20 but I would have been thrilled with anything under 2 hours. I exited the water at 1:34 and change. It was a good start to the day.
I made my way through town on the bike then up and back on the Kuakini highway. My family had stationed themselves at the corner of the highway and Palani. It's a slow turn up Palani so I was able not only to see them but to say thank you even if they couldn't hear me. I most definitely heard them and all their kind words of support.
My parents, sister and aunt had made their way to the island to watch me race. Their support not only on race day is something I have leaned on in the past and would continue to do though out the day. When things get tough and I am in need of inspiration these are people I can draw from. On the corner of Palani stood my aunt, a person who has suffered two heart attacks, survived colon cancer and who has suffered more then one stroke but there she stood watching. She was watching people lucky enough to have dreams so she could watch those dreams come true.
At miles 20 to 25 I was having bit of a low spot with my nutrition as the negative thoughts began to creep in. I focused on the fact that it was only about 20 miles before I would make the turn to Hawi where I would be able to get out of the aero position and begin to sit up as my shoulders the were starting to ache. At this point I elected to start pain meds knowing the shoulder pain was going to be part of the rest of my day.
After making the turn up to Hawi the wind coming from my left or from the coastline would quickly shift to directly from my right or downhill toward the coastline. These winds were the stronger winds. I watched other athletes ahead of me to know when and where to expect any next large wind gusts. I also watch the fog line on the right side of the road. The fog line for the most part is cracked. The areas where the cars weren't continually driving over the line, grass would grow through the cracks. By watching the line I could tell the sections where the wind gusts were strong and continues forcing the cars over and off the line allowing the grass to grow. So grass growing in the fog line meant a heavy cross wind and I would prepare for it.
The turnaround at Hawi is followed by a mad dash back to the bottom at Kawaihea. There were spots with heavy cross winds so I would take a look around to make sure there weren't other athletes in the direct vicinity. I trust my bike handling skills but I may not trust yours.
Making the turn back onto the Queen K and the winds were kicking hard from the coast or from my right. These winds were stiff and buffeting. I did my best to stay in aero but by this point my left shoulder was pretty fired up and the buffeting of the wind put pressure on the shoulder and because of this it was pretty painful. I had been prescribed some pain relief that wouldn't affect my liver and the transfer of sodium so I had some on board but I will admit the pain was growing.
I have been lucky in the fact that I have never had to deal with chronic pain and it's affects both mentally and physically but this pain was starting to wear on me.
Being forced to sit up and out of aero position in the face of these strong winds certainly was costing me time but by this point it was the best I could do. As the pain grew so did my nausea. As my nausea grew my nutrition plan began to slip. With about 5 miles to go, my nausea finally brought me to a point where I had to pull over to relieve myself on all nutrition, nutrition I was trying to get down in preparation to head out on the marathon. Of course my pulling over happens on the finish line side of the energy lab where there were plenty of athletes in the later part of their marathon. This couldn't have happened out on the lonely stretches of the Queen K.
When running your intestines are in motion and more susceptible to stress. On the bike your intestines are pretty stable. Stable intestines and getting sick, what will the run bring? Will I be able to hold anything down? If things are starting to shutdown there would be no "gutting it out". Can I get this far and not be able to finish? I had no idea but I was fully prepared to find out.
I took my time in T-2 sipping sports drink to test my gut before the stress of the run. I always carry gummy bears on the run. They are straight sugar that can be either chewed or just sucked on. They work for me but the heat of the day had melted them into one large clump engulfing all other products contained in the zip lock. It was one big gooey mess so I elected to go to plan B. I grabbed some chews that I was unable to get down on the bike and headed out on the run.
Out of T-2 and on the run. I imagined I would walk a bit in an effort to get my gut to settle but the crowd pushes you so I ran. The pain in my shoulders had began to subside and my tummy seemed to be settling.
I was feeling pretty good for the first few miles but I could tell my stop alongside the road earlier had thrown my nutrition for a loop. I went straight to cola and sports drink as I walked the aid stations. I was running way more then I ever thought I would be just a few short miles ago. I saw Bootsy roughly halfway down Ali'i as she headed back towards town. Honestly to be able to stand there on Ali'i Drive and critique if only for a moment how our World Championship races were going, that's a moment I will cherish forever.
My family was waiting at turnaround on Ali'i. It was the first time I was able talk with them, update them. I stood chatting with them for as long as it felt natural and under the circumstances it was quite some time but I didn't care. After all this was part of the reason I came to race, to share in my day, to share in the experience and to be present with the ones who had a large part in getting me to this point in my day and in my journey.
The return to Palani went well. I was moving along fueled by cola and sports drink and surprisingly, the gut was holding up. I walked up Palani to much fan fair from the those seated along the way. Palani is steep so it gave me yet another chance to engage the fans. Although walking, it was a memorable moment.
As I returned to the Queen K this time in the dark, I was slowing and my nutrition was slipping. It's reasonably lonely running out along the Queen K, the crowds that carried me along Ali'i are nonexistent and I was getting sleepy, very sleepy. The sleepiness was a sure sign my sugar was off. I began to struggled with any volume of cola having already consumed all of my chews. I choked down a half gel every third aid station or so but I couldn't shake the sleepiness. I was walking more and more carrying a cup of cola in an effort to boost my sugar.
Turning left at the energy lab it's downhill to the coastline. The Red Bull tent is located near the far end of the course but I had never tried Red Bull in training. At this point not a lot to lose, right? I was searching for anything that would help shake the sleepiness.
The run special needs is located near the turnaround at the energy lab and I had a bag of gummy bears waiting. It was my guess that these bears met the same fate as the bears in T-2 but much to my surprise they were still in tact. I walked out of the energy lab chewing on the supply of sugar the entire way. By the time I made my way back to the Queen K the lights were coming back on and the incessant sleepiness was waning.
It's dark out on the far reaches of the Queen K, I mean really dark. I had to keep your wits about me so not to run into another competitor headed out to the energy lab or one of the many traffic cones. You can't see them and with the cloud cover there was no moonlight to help guide the way.
Right onto Palani - This is the location I had dreamt of. The location where I would allow the culmination of a dream to begin. Again Palani is steep so getting down is simple. I did stop at the last aid station for a final cup of sports drink.
Bootsy finished hours ahead of me just as we hoped she would. This meant she had a good day. She had gone back to the condo to shower and collect the group for a return to the finish line. Much to my surprise my family, my support group, my magnet that had pulled me back to the finish line from the energy lab, they were waiting on the corner at the bottom of Palani. Perfect! It was quiet and it gave me a chance to say thank you. It gave me a chance before all the craziness that is the finish on Ali'i to revel in them, to look into their eyes and to cry. It was a powerful moment.
I could have stood there in that moment forever but there comes a time to run down Ali'i Drive, to hold you head high, to slap every hand possible and to celebrate you, if only for a moment.
Bootsy said they would beat feet and be waiting for me at the finishing shoot. I told her not to worry, I wasn't about to beat feet. I was going to go slow over the final mile. I wanted to cherish every step, to soak in the moment, to live a dream. The dream didn't disappoint, every stride was met with congratulations from the crowd.
Ali'i Drive - So I guess this is where I'm supposed to try to describe the indescribable. The emotion this finish line brings is impossible to conceive. It can't be described other then to say it was everything I hoped it would be and so much more.
High fives from my family.
The darkness helps hide the tears as they stream down my face. There is nobody in front of me, there is no one behind me for as far as the eye can see. I have Ali'i Drive all to myself in the Ironman World Championship. I run on hallowed ground and it's all mine. I let the sights and sounds of Ali'i wash over me as I think about the thousands of miles I trained while no one was watching and what it's like when it feels the whole world is.
I cross the finish as Mike Rielly says those magic words - "Craig Thorsen - You are an Ironman!"
I made it just off the stage before being met by two volunteers. When volunteers ask how you're doing and you reply "I don't know" they take you straight to the med tent. I asked if I could be seated outside the tent and just collect myself for a few minutes. Soon Bootsy arrived but I was feeling like it may be a good idea to lay down, so into the tent I go. The first thing they do is weigh you so they can compare your post race weight to your pre-race weight. Because I had lost more the 5% of my body weight a doctor was called in. A quick diagnoses of nausea plus dizziness and it was time for some vitals. Low blood pressure and an elevated heart rate gets you an IV and some IV Zofran.
I was able to exit the med tent as soon as I felt well enough to take sugar by mouth. So as soon as I was able to choke down a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup they turned me loose. I just wanted to get out of there, I wanted to see my family and I wanted to complete the process which included collecting my finishers medal. The very helpful volunteers kept offering to collect the finisher products for me but I want the experience for myself. A very nice young lady drug me into the King Kamehameha's Kona Beach Hotel where Bootsy and sister where waiting and I would finally be reunited with my family.
It is complete now. Two ends of time are neatly tied...
I realize now that they were right, this was more then just a race. Not only for myself but for all those who support me, those who got me to the start line and through race day. I have been asked, what was the best moment for me and of course it was the finish. Not the finish line itself but after, as I gathered with loved ones. So many different people now standing as one. People that have made so many sacrifices all for a single dream - my dream. We seldom get to dream. But on this single day in this single moment as I stood looking into their eyes, a group of remarkable people gave to me what I needed most. A chance for one day not only to dream, but a chance once again to believe.
