I've done a mini sprint Tri almost two years ago and a sprint 3 year ago. That's it in my tri life. I am a runner. I've done several races, including 2 50k's, at Delaware State Park alone. Countless miles in general there actually.
This has been overall one of my worst training cycles.
From new home owner and trying to keep up with all it entails;
Parenting a now almost two year old whom loves the outdoors;
Working the erratic hours of a union Ironworker 5-7 days a week;
Classes two nights a week;
Trying to wake up at 4a to train and if I get off work on time training before kid pick up or class;
I've taken my fair share of excuses to catch up some needed and wanted sleep.
I've taken my fair share of time to still try and be a family man.
But then on Father's Day, I put piece of shale stone through the bottom of my foot and took me out of training for 10 days. And walking for 5.
The final weekend of July, I made joke after joke about getting E. coli, and appear to be the only one who actually contracted it. Another 5 days lost.
So here I am 4th consecutive weekend of overtime awaits me, the last weekend that may be of any use towards training. After work, I'll on the bike hoping for any bit useful time I can get.
I feel bad for my friend Kate who started training for this with me, in hopes there would be a way she could get in, buy a bib, etc. Rare opportunity to do an Ironman event in her back yard, starting at our favorite local park to run.
Obviously, no such luck.
But she still trains with me.
I watch complaint and fear on post after post.
Look, a lot of you have done this before, a lot of you haven't, and some of us haven't done the distance.
When you signed up, did you not know what this event entailed?
When you signed up, did you not know where this event was?
When you signed up, did you not know when this event was?
At this point, if you didn't, you should know by now.
Swimming in a man made lake where the alligators of Ohio (geese) like to poop, so there's a chance of E. coli. Probably a good one. Take it from me, YOU WILL BE FINE! I'm living proof. I got E. coli, didn't die and didn't miss work.
Biking in rural Ohio. Roads can suck. Be smart. If you're not riding to win something or beat a previous time, then you're riding to finish it.
Running in rural Ohio mid August. Prepare to sweat like you didn't know you could. The humidity will be your reaper.
Long story short, we're past attention seeking time. Put up or shut up. People really want to be in your position of just participating in this event but can't, and you're thinking about a DNS because you may have to poop for a week? Go without a wetsuit? Have a bumpy ride for a stretch? Sweat running the only hill on the course once?
I'm not pointing any fingers, but if you feel that way, you have something to reconcile with yourself.
But first, press play! I mentioned in a post in the Ironman group a little over a two weeks ago about how I was miserably undertrained and miserably underprepared for this race, but I'd be damned if I didn't toe the line, because I know many people who wished to be in my shoes to participate in the event, and I owed it to them to at least try. (See that post here; http://fromtheashesarose.blogspot.com/2016/08/it-busting-chops-day.html)
So Tri I will.
At Selby in the morning, I made the first of many new friendships running into Ken.
Ken, Josh and I chatted about the plans and hopes for the day. We selfied,
took pictures of others,
selfied with their phone,
it was going to be an awesome day!
On the bus, I asked Josh if we were ever gonna be able to just run again. It was a resounding no. The high from this is just too much.
We get to the park, and the faces and hugs start rolling in. Christine, Jen, Mike, Corie, Tam, Margie, Ted, Barb, Trishelle, Holly, Laurie, Thomas, Meghan, Chris, and so many many more. It was a great morning. In another race tradition, Possums have at Delaware State Park, I lead participating Possums and a few others in the Special Olympics Oath, as we do for every race at DSP.
I was still looking for one more person, named Justin, but it was so close to go time, I declared to Ken that he was a unicorn. I'm told he exists, but I'd never seen him. Then I met him not two minutes later in the corral. Other friends, Ken and his wife Brandi, who is also participating, show up and greet me, Tory, Rowan and my parents show up.
Everything is set. It is time...
Early in the swim, my anxiety was raging and I spent a majority of the first 500 meter in backstroke and stopping at 4 kayaks trying to calm myself to get breathing while in freestyle, to no avail though. Another wave of swimmers had passed me before I made the third buoy.
What happened in next the100 was my turning point. I went to a kayak, in breaststroke, and caught a drop of water as I came up and started coughing. The volunteer was worried about me and threw up her flag and blew the whistle to have medical check me out, but that's not how medical rolls.
The medic had both hands on my arm "Are you ready to come out?" "WHAT? No! Fuck no!!!" "She raised that flag, that means you're coming out". She chimes in "Oh, no. No, that's not what I wanted. I thought you guys would just check him out, I didn't want him pulled, that's my fault, I misunderstood what I was supposed to wave the flag for" "Are you ok to go?" "As soon as you let me go" "Good luck, then" and he let me go. I hit one more kayak on this 800 stretch, actually halfway through the swim, at which point I realized that of my allowed 1h10m, I've got exactly half the time left to finish. I got myself collected and found my groove. I didn't swim straight, and I battled for my place close to the buoys, but my head was down, my breathing was there and before I knew it, I was closer to the opposite shoreline than I thought I was going to be.
I made the second turn. 600m till I know this race is mine, but I'm now in a race against time. I swam pretty far off inside the buoys, scrambled back and grabbed one last kayak for my final approach. Roll, short strokes, head down, breath, sight. About 200m out, as I breath, I hear they're calling wave 19. I'm wave 3, 16 waves have gone, 16•4 is 1h4m. I have 6 min now and I'm 100m out, under the water, a burst of relief escapes me that I conquered this beast. This race will be mine!
This race may not be mine. Mile 3 on the bike, my right quad starts locking up. Around mile 20 my right hamstring joins the party. Somewhere in the next ten miles, my whole right leg, all the way to the bottom of my foot seizes up. I coast for a couple hundred yards as I am unable pedal. I manage my foot out of the cage, pedal with the other leg while trying to work this out. Eventually I win out, but in a war, is was a small battle. My friend Melanie passes me around 35, and I ask her assistance to my growing problem.She delivers help that works for a few miles, but into the 40's, my left quad starts to go. Shortly after my hamstring too. I'm drinking water, Gatorade, taking gummies, but I haven't intelligently used my available space and I'm playing the conservation game with my water. The last aid station comes along, I finally utilize my available space to make sure I'm hydrated through the rest of this tragedy in the making. The hill coming at mile 50 is my next big challenge, I've got to test the water to see what I can still do. I attempt to stand and pedal. My legs immediately warn me to sit my ass down. So I sit. And battle. I battle like hell. Both my legs on the verge of full leg cramps with every downstroke. I manipulate every motion to manage the pain.
Finally, I'm on the pedestrian bridge, on my way to finishing the bike about 20 minutes faster than expected. A burst of relief escapes me. This race may still be mine.
Kilts up!
The real test begins. Nathan, volunteering all over the place for Ironman; "Hey, Stuart! Nice to finally meet you!" Little did I know the impact I had had on the Ironman group, and even less, how phrases like this would carry my day.
I leave the stadium on my run feeling like a rock star. My family, L2R, piles of running mates, that was such a phenomenal feeling! My legs are shot, but I can't show that here. I muscle through, smiling, because I'm here, they're here to see me do this. So I get out of sight and stop to stretch. "Hey, are you Stuart? Oh my god, I've been so looking forward to meeting you". I start running some more, and see and older woman chewing out a cop because he won't redirect the runners behind her so she can go. I laugh. I continue battling cramps. I run till I cramp, then I walk off the cramp, then I run some more. That's a terrible plan I need something else. "Hey, a kilt!" "Stuart?" "You are so funny! We hoped I'd see you today!" So I try to run until the first signs of cramps, then walk through them, which pretty effectively works for the first loop. "Stuart? Oh man, I love your posts! They always made me laugh!" I saw a few familiar faces along the run course, Steve, Ken, Joan volunteering at aid station 3 waiting with needed hugs, Amber with eyes like a hawk spotting me from at least a tenth of a mile a way and hellaciously cheering me.
I started trading places with a guy named Tim. Our pains were equal but our timing was not. He passed me at the start of the second loop, then I just caught up and we synced up our running to help each other. He gave me some salt, which I had never tried before, but I was open to new ideas at this point. He got my run segments started, I kept his walking at a brisk pace. "Look at this guy! Stuart? Nice to put a face to the name!". I told Tim I was Facebook famous, I don't think he believed me. "Wait, you're Stuart??? Oh thank you so much! You really made that group enjoyable!"
"Did I hear right? You're Stuart?! So happy I got to see you!" We hit some downhills and rose them as far as we could, but after going downhill with no brakes and turning on to Pollack the second time, I knew my time with Tim was almost over and I needed to reevaluate my pain management. "Hey, Stuart! Nice to meet you!" Said someone passing from behind us. The woman in front of us turns around "You're Stuart??? You are hilarious!" Tim says "Dude! You weren't kidding!" He tells her what I told him and the woman behind us confirms it. "He has kept the Facebook group so light and fun" "He posts the funniest stuff"
"Tim, run your race. I can't roll with you anymore. The cramps are in my achilles now. I will see you at the finish" (I didn't. He disappeared). Right after Tim leaves, "Hey, are you Stuart? Oh my god, I loved your posts! You are so funny!" Heather rolls up after overhearing that and joins in. Heather asks how my race is going and I share, and she hands me some salt. She tells me to keep it, she should be good for the rest. I thank her as they take off to finish their days. I've got two miles, and 28 minutes before my legal cutoff time. I had been averaging 13:30-13:45 minute miles at that point. Off in the distance "Stuart! Stuart Kirk!" Well there's a short statured person I could use right about now. Barb rolls up, walks with me for a few minutes, through an aid station. She tells me to use more salt. It can't hurt. It tastes like hell, but I think there's something to it. She departs. It's me time. All the people today. One more downhill with no brakes, onto Henry. So many of whom I've never met. Stadium is in sight. All of them thanking me. Cheers are growing. Because I-- "STUAAAAARRRT!!!" Out comes Justin from the Cincy Tri Club tent, hurdling caution tape, and hands me a beer. "Well I guess I don't need this then" I hand him my water and he tells me to finish this. He's not talking about the beer. Well... Maybe he is. I drink. I think the salts kicking in, because I'm running again, or the beer is just what the doctor ordered. As I'm alongside the stadium, I hand off the beer to a random stranger, asking her if she could take care of it. There's L2R, they recognizing me now.
Kate's here, seems like everyone is here! I get up out of sight, walk for a moment collect myself, because I've got the time, now I need to walk through the door. This race is mine!
The relief escapes me, exponentially this time.
Tri I did.
The two biggest things I walk away with today is A; my fair share of humble pie. This journey isn't easy, and the road I took made it even less so. This event is not to be disrespected. I'm not saying I did disrespect it, but I definitely didn't give it what it deserves.
I've got a long road ahead of me before number two comes along, and eventually a full, and it starts with a ground up rebuilding of myself. I may not race next year, but it will be for all the right reasons, I will be back, stronger, more fit, and ready to do things right. No more limping across the finish.
B; Delaware. You owned the day in the most massive of ways! Way to want this!
The community, all along the course, putting out signs, standing on their porches, sitting at the end of their drives, you ruled!
The city, so welcoming of the mass of people invading our small town.
The county, well, all three counties of the bike course, getting roads ready, intersections managed, keeping cyclists as protected as they can
The State Parks Dept, making like some angry honey badgers tackling the tornado damage less than 1/8 mile from 2000+ high dollar bikes to make sure our path out of the park was as safe as possible.
And finally, the volunteers. There's no accurate words or amount of words that can describe the amazing work you did all weekend! People from all over, not just Delaware, made this possible. They seemingly all took it to the next level of awesomeness! You can not be thank enough!!!
Delaware represented Ohio in the absolute best possible fashion!
The thanks on this journey;
First and foremost, Tory.
She pushed me out the door. She gave me my daily goals coming down the stretch as I was behind in training due to injury or illness. Absorbing the extra workload with handling Rowan, the house, she was solidly behind me, and that made it so much easier to get in gear.
I love you, my dear! This journey doesn't happen without you from the very beginning!
Josh, you give me a goal to reach in wanting to train with you again. I am so proud to see you finally come around to this sport, and absolutely kill it!
Kate, thank you for always being a big voice in my head overpowering the little voice in my head and willing to wake up extra early for miles with me before your miles with someone else. I'll be at your finish next year!
Brian, I have been paying you a lot of attention, through Facebook and Josh's stories, and you have given me focus I have lost. I have seen where you come from and where you are, and it's very much where I am and where I want to be. I feel that I have a lot I can learn from you to get me on the correct path and one day train with the two of you. Thank you for your support these final days!
Amber, just those the day before, and your presence at the race, you make a great coach! I can't tell you how much that 24 hour span alone meant to my race!
To my friends and family who have been apart of this journey, giving support, help, advice along the way! Thank you!
Brandi, I told you you'd kill it and that you'd do it faster than me. Ironman informed you that your wave was starting an hour late, and you even blew it out of the water!
I don't know what I did to bring you to this village of crazy, but I'm glad you're here!
To Jodi and Laurie, you guys got my ass out of bed many mornings and kept me going for many swims. It was great learning the ropes with you guys! Here's to many more!
To the SO MANY of you I met on the course and afterwards, I can't remember hardly what name went to which face, it was astounding! You guys truly carried me on my run! People, like Tim, who had no idea who I was, were in shock of how many people were verifying my identity and thanking me. Every bit of this day happened because of you guys too! I'm sorry I can't remember all of your names, may not have gotten all of your words right above, but I appreciated every bit!
While this event is definitely one of my most amazing races I've ever done or will do, very specifically that will be the most memorable 1/2 marathon I run for a long long time!
