For those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength.
They will soar like on the wings of eagles.
They will run and not grow weary.
They will walk, and not grow faint.
Isaiah 40:31
Cast of Characters:
Ed- Friend from the hood. Competitive as all get out. Good athlete. Ironman Arizona goal: 12:30
Dean- One of Ed’s best friends. Became my friend while training with him. Ironman Arizona goal: 13:00
Me (Fat Tom)- You probably know me or you wouldn’t be reading this, but just in case… portly, blogger,and slower than both Ed and Dean in all 3 disciplines. Goal for Ironman Arizona: Beat my last Ironman time of 14:03. If I was REALLY moving, I was going to try to hit 13:30 or less.
Derek (aka Frank)- Great friend of mine who has done several marathons and also completed Ironman Canada.
“Holy Sh*+!!!” I heard a woman scream within about 2 minutes of the start of the race and then she made a beeline to the closest lifeguard’s kayak. Over 2600 athletes were punching, kicking, and doing their best to swim over each other at the mass start. I heard one guy after the race describe it as, “Boy that swim start was like trying to rip a cub out of a mama bear’s arms… but more violent.” As for me, I did okay this time. I didn’t immediately put my head down and go for it because I learned from my last race that getting pushed down when it was time to go up for a breath, was a great way to start a mild panic attack. So I was patient, waited to find a semi-open spot, and then went for it. I somehow managed to even swim semi-straight this time and didn’t have about a million people shout, “Go LEFT!!!” as I ventured my way off course. All was good… so I just kept swimming.
The swim for Ironman Arizona is an out and back. On the way out I caught a beautiful sunrise. On the way back, I caught something even more beautiful. I looked up on the bridge above me and saw a vision in tie-dye: there was my family all wearing their tie-dye shirts that read, “Team Fat Tom.” I knew they couldn’t make me out in the crowd of swimmers so I shouted, “Team Fat Tom Rocks!!!” and waved as I heard my daughter Mackenzie point at me and say, “Look, there’s Dad!” I had a swim to finish so I gave one more shout of, “I love you!” and then put my head back down and rejoined the battle for the last mile.
Before I knew it, I was out of the water and on my bike. My last Ironman was Couer d’Alene in Idaho and it was hilly and scenic (if you want to read the report on that race after this one, click here, but I’ll warn you it is long) . Tempe Arizona is anything but scenic. I had asked a fellow competitor the day before about the bike course and her response was, “It’s nothing but cacti and tumbleweeds.” It turns out, that wasn’t too far from the truth. It is a very spectator friendly course in that it offers three loops on both the run and the bike. About the first 10 miles of the bike course are flat and then you hit Beeline Highway which is a long gradual uphill. The last 3-4 miles get a little more steep, but nothing too terrible.
Within about 5 minutes of the start of the bike, I saw Dean riding in front of me. I rode right past him which was odd as in our training he was always faster than me. At that time I didn’t know if Ed was in front of me or behind me, but it turned out that I actually beat him out of the water and he was still behind me. I was feeling good, so I wished Dean luck, and rode like the wind. The first loop was pretty uneventful, but on the second loop the wind picked up. Almost half way into the second loop I saw some familiar tie-dye shirts and realized my buddy Derek had taken my two oldest daughers and drove out on Beeline Highway to cheer for me. Their encouragement gave me a little boost to fight the winds and finish the second loop. At the very end of loop number two (about mile 75), I heard a familiar voice say, “I finally caught you!” It was Dean and he was doing great so I wished him good luck and kept going.
The loop turnarounds are where the crowds really gather and cheer on the athletes. At the beginning of loop three I pulled over with the part of Team Fat Tom that wasn’t out on Beeline Highway. Ironman has some very strict rules including no help or support from anyone outside the race. My wife is one of those people that actually follows rules. So much so, that she wouldn’t hand me the frozen snickers bar I asked her to bring for me. It was at her feet and I finally had to beg my 8 year old to hand it to me. I’m not sure if it was her or my 5 year old who said, “Really Dad??? You pulled over for candy in the middle of your race?” “Actually…” I replied, “I pulled over to give my little love bugs kisses.” They gave me kisses but I could tell they didn’t get it.
My four daughters, along with my wife, are my secret weapon. If I had to guess the average triathlete at an Ironman spent about $4k on buying a new bike within the past 2-3 years. On top of that, many drop thousands on coaching, nutritional supplements, and whatever else is considered the latest and greatest. As for me, I ride a bike that cost me less than a $1k over 10 years ago and was probably about 4 lbs. heavier than most of the bikes out there. My “latest and greatest” is a Multisport Ministries jersey and cycling gloves that both have holes in them from a crash I had about four years ago.
I may not have fancy, but I have one heck of a family. They were out there all day for me. They made signs that that were as individual as they are. They read: “I bet Darth Vader was an Ironman” (my 5 year old), one with a picture of me and a pig with me saying “I’m an Ironman” and the pig saying, “I’m bacon” (drawn by my pig-loving 8 year old), another one had a picture of me sporting a six-pack with the caption of “You are our HERO!” and another one that simply said, “Soar like on the wings of eagles!” I was so grateful to have them out there and hoped they understood when I had told them the night before that I was dedicating this race to them. More than I cared about my finishing time for the race, I wanted my daughters to know that ALL things are possible with Christ and to follow their dreams and to never give up. So I promised them that no matter how tired I got or how much I hurt, I was going to give Ironman Arizona my all… and I was going to do it for them.
I gave my family smooches, and got going again. At about mile 87, my buddy Dean was on the side of the road with a flat tire. For about 2 seconds I thought about pulling over to try to help him, but then I remembered a couple of things: 1. No support is allowed and more importantly 2. I am so unhandy that I probably would have left him with two flat tires. So I kept on going and at about mile 90, I saw my buddy Ed for the first time that day. We rode together for a couple of miles and then he wished me luck and took off. Usually that would be the last time I would see him on a ride, but not on this day. I stayed with semi-close to him and about a mile later caught him again. That would be the last time I saw him on the bike as he quickly took off for good. That was okay, because I was racing my race, and continued to ride hard until mile 110 and then switched to a high gear where I just spun out the last couple of miles to get my legs back. I knew that I was going to need them… because once I was done on the bike, I had a little 26.2 mile run to do.
I entered the changing tent as Ed was leaving to start his run. That was okay with me as I still had to powder my nose and check my make-up. Not really, but you would think that because my transition times were so darn long. Dean entered shortly after me and was ready about the same time. I offered to wait while he hit the bathroom, but he said for me to go… so I did. I thought for sure that he would pass me within that first mile, but he never did.
I started off on the run, and I felt good… actually, I felt real good. I made like Forrest and just kept on running. At about mile 8, there was a bridge where a big dude was walking and seemed to be really struggling. “Wait a minute…” I thought, “I know that guy.” It was my good buddy Derek who made the drive all the way from Southern California to cheer me on. I noticed he was wearing an official race number that said “Fred” on it. Apparently the real Fred had enough of Ironman and quit. Derek saw him walking off so he just told him that his son was a huge fan of Ironman, and asked if he could have Fred’s bib since he was obviously done. Fred obliged which lead to me getting a good laugh everytime I heard a, “Go Fred!”
Fred and I were old running buddies that went back about 8 years. We used to have a trail run that was essentially “our” run. We’d use that run to catch up on what was going in our lives, bounce ideas off of each other, and just share good times. It was probably four years since we had been able to do one of those runs together, but that day in Arizona, we picked up right where we left off.
He also let me know that my buddy Ed was about 8 minutes ahead of me. The part of him struggling was obviously just an act as he ran like the wind while I broke wind (mexican food the night before the race wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done). Next thing you know, we were at about mile 12 and we saw my kids and wife who informed me that Ed was probably only about 3 minutes ahead of me. About 2 miles after that, I was on a bridge and I saw a familiar face on the turnaround right below me. At about mile 16 I said hello as I slowly pulled away. I told Fred that Ed’s ego was way too big for him to let me beat him. At about mile 17 I slowed down through the aid station while I grabbed some water and soup broth (aka the best thing ever when doing an Ironman) and saw someone skip the station and pick up his pace a little bit. Again, I reminded myself, run my race.
I was having fun. I was getting to catch up with one of my best friends, I had caught both a beautiful sunrise and sunset, and I was going to complete my 2nd Ironman. I felt great, and was running strong. I don’t know if it was the Bible Verse that I kept reciting to myself (Isaiah 40:31 above), the altitude, or just adrenaline, but I just kept going strong even when I hit the point that was longer than any training run I did. You see the night before I was supposed to do a 20+ miler was our Halloween party and someone snuck some al-key-hol in my jello shots. I woke up hurting and I had a long run to do and then I was taking my daughter to the Bronco’s game. I wouldn’t miss the opportunity to take my daughter to the game unless I was actually dead so since I just felt like death, I never quite got my long run in. It didn’t matter on this day, because I made my girls a promise that I was going to give it my all and I wasn’t about to make any excuses.
At mile 18 I passed Ed again, but not so slowly this time. He congratulated me on a great race and I reminded him that there was still a longgg way to go. I wasn’t really cognizant of the time, but I started thinking about it at mile 20 when Fred pointed out that there was just a 10k left to go. Hmmm… I was pretty sure that my 13:30 goal was well within reach, but I was starting to wonder if even 13 hours was possible. I ran right by my kids and wife who was slightly befuddled that I didn’t stop and say hello. I was moving at a pretty decent pace for me and I didn’t want to risk stopping. I shouted something like “see you at the finish line” and kept running. At mile 23 Ed went blowing by me. Derek saw me laughing and I asked if I wanted to go run him down. “Nope.” I was having a fantastic personal race and it wouldn’t matter who I beat, as long as I beat the clock of my personal goal. Conversely though, if I beat Ed, his day would have been ruined and he worked too long and hard for this day to be ruined. The day you do an Ironman (especially your first) lives in your memory forever… and I wanted everyone to look back on their day and be proud of what they accomplished.
Starting at about mile 25, the crowds started lining up along the route. I’m not going to lie, at that point, I was getting tired. The cheering of the crowds drowned out any fatigue I was feeling so I picked up my pace. At about mile 25.5, I thanked Fred for being there again and told him I’d see him on the other side. Even all the way up to that point, I had no idea what my time was. About 50 yards before the finish line, there was one final turn. I made that turn and it was there that I not only saw the finish line for the first time, but I saw the clock. I know I was tired but I was hoping my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me… 12:39. I heard cheering off to the right and saw my beautiful family screaming for me. I gave my wife a quick, “Holy smokes, 12:39!!!”, raised my arms to heaven, and crossed the finish line a full 1 hour and 24 minutes faster than my last Ironman.
Ed finished two minutes faster than me and Dean was only a minute behind me. 140.6 miles… 3 training partners and friends… separated by only 3 minutes. What a day… what a race… what a memory!
