It was 7 days before the big day. I was riding alone along 9W contemplating the balance between reducing weight on my bike and proper hydration. I had just met the team at Ross Dock for the last (and only second) time. Coach Scott lead the group in a visualization of the transition area and Q & A session. I felt prepared. The only question I had was, do I live off the course aid stations or carry everything with me? I took my time out there, visualizing the race. I didn't get back home to Brooklyn until 3p or so, skewing my plans to clean and unpack a bit. This was it. Race week. And I had two big priorities- get the race done and figure out what to do with my parents.
Every day of the week leading up to the event had something Ironman related scheduled. It was a bit much. With the suggestion of Coach Scott that "swim practice was optional" if we had shit to take care of, I skipped it. And I skipped Tuesday's run practice, too (not that I've ever gone to a run GTS...). Instead I swam on my own and ran with the fall marathon team on. I spent that time sleeping and cleaning.
Wednesday was the first day of the expo and I was anxious to check in. I headed to Pier 92 around 3pm hoping to beat the rush. There was barely anyone there. The expo was relatively small, but impressively big for an even with less than 3,000 participants. I got in, signed a few death waivers, grabbed my chip, bib, and official Ironman backpack, bought a new Trigger Point roller, and took off back to the office to finish up a couple things before the Team in Training inspiration dinner. This was not one of the Ironman events I was about to skip.
It was the usual program and it didn't disappoint. Our NYC teammate Mark gave the connection to the cause speech, telling us of his father who was diagnosed with myeloma midseason, reminding us why we were all there. The top fundraiser raised over $141,000. In total, 89 Ironman participants across the country raised about $950,000. I was amazed. I am hoping that since then, we've gone over a million.
The athletes banquet and mandatory information meeting were scheduled for Thursday night. Though I had hoped to skip the evening events and instead go to Daniel's art reception with Casey, I decided that it would be best for me to go. It wasn't worth it. The entertainment bordered on lame, the food was horrible, and the info meeting had no new information. Waste of time. Matt Long's appearance and speech was the only highlight.
But everything was overshadowed by what was really on everyone's mind: The sewage dump in the Hudson. As soon as I heard about it, I thought it was a joke. Then I thought of this. Then, after chuckling to myself, I thought, "Oh shit. They really could cancel the swim." I spent about seven minutes churning this about in my head and googling articles on the topic. Other participants had been posting on the Ironman US Championship Facebook page with similar questions. Some were seriously freaking out and pissed off. At the end of my seven minutes or so of borderline freaking out, I decided two things (lot's of things come in pairs in this post): 1) I can't control it so don't worry about it. Plan as if I am going to swim. 2) If I don't swim, I'm going to do another Ironman for sure. This one wouldn't count.
Ironman would announce at 4:30 pm on Friday whether or not the swim was cancelled.
How did it become Thursday night already? I thought about this as I packed up my gear late that night. It, along with my bike, needed to be checked in on Friday. I laid out my race gear/outfits, as is customary with my kind (SCBkR/TNT rules!), then tossed it into its appropriate bag. I topped up my tires with air for the last time. In the morning, Yvonne and I would make our way to the transition area. Despite skipping practice and hoping to take care of things early on in the week, I knew that once I awoke on Friday morning, the nex 24 hours were going to be insane.
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| Gear laid out. |
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| Gear bagged up. |
Friday, 7:30AM
I woke up and showered. I realized this was likely going to be my last shower as a non-Ironman. I loaded up the car, racked my bike, and made my way up to Atlantic Ave where Yvonne is waiting. She jumped in and we head into Manhattan.
Friday, 9:00AM
Greg Parker, famous for baking wonderful treats and being so gay, is fundraising for the 7th or 8th time (I can't keep count) and plans on completing yet another season with TNT and crossing another finish line for the cause. I requested a couple banana breads for the weekend from him, and since he was leaving town at noon and I was going to be a bit busy on Saturday, I stopped by his office in Tribecca to pick up the goods. He wished me well, handed me a bag of loafs.
Friday, 10:00AM
Yvonne's boyfriend Hamsi rode her bike to the transition area earlier that day because he was volunteering that morning. So I dropped Yvonne as close as I could and then parked the car. I parked a couple miles away, but I had my bike to ride, and I actually got to the transition area before she did. Luckily, we beat the first ferry-load of athletes so there was no delay for us. We dropped our gear, scoped out the area, said a quick hello to Hamsi, and headed back toward the car. I suggested we take the shortest route to the car, which included a couple hundred steps. Yvonne agreed. So on the day before we were to cover 140.6 miles, we did a two mile hike.
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| The figurative and literal calm before the storm. |
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| Colline is racked. Here she waited in the rain until the next day. |
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| We were early. This field would be covered in blue bags by the end of the day. |
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| Volunteer Hamsi and Athlete Yvonne |
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| Where do these stairs go? They go up. |
I dropped Yvonne off near the Columbus Circle subway stop because I wasn't going back to Brooklyn just yet. Wednesday night I received a text from my good friend Steve.
"Oh hey we're in a cab heading to the hospital right now."
He and his wife were expecting a baby boy right about the same time I was expecting to do an Ironman. Sam was early. I stopped by the hospital to pay my first visit to the boy. Good looking kid. It was cute to see his big brother of 2 years, Charlie, interact with him, bouncing between his toy trains and his baby brother. I also learned how to tell whether or not a diaper is a poopy and pee pee diaper or just a poopy diaper, but I'll save that description and those pics for when I start writing a poopy diaper blog.
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| Charlie now has both a toy train and a baby brother. |
Friday, 2:00PM
Back in October of 2011, I had met Jacques Steinberg on an plane on my way to coach the Nike Women's Marathon in San Francisco. Jacques noticed that I was reading Liz Robbins's book, "A Race Like No Other," and commented that his friend wrote the book. He snapped my photo with it, texted it to her, and told me he had written a book called, "You Are an Ironman," which I have now read and enjoyed. We chatted about training, shared anecdotes and exchanged information. Liz contacted me about meeting the fall season TNT NYC Marathon team, which went over awesomely. And I put Jacques in touch with the TNT office in hopes to do some joint ventures. He wrote this NY Times article published in June.
Jacques was at the expo on Friday signing his book, so I thought I'd stop in and reintroduce myself and get an autograph. He remembered me. We chatted a bit about my training and his writing. He's a nice guy and I'm glad I had the chance to reconnect. The book is great and I could relate to a few of the people spotlighted in its pages. It was a great coincidence that I met Jacques on that plane, and I'm glad I did.
Friday, 4:30PM
I finally made it back to Brooklyn. There was still a lot to do. I went out grocery shopping for a going away party that was being held in my backyard on Sunday. Casey decided she had to go to grad school in NC and leave Brooklyn. It was a pot luck party and I had offered to bring the meat. I'm good at meat. I grabbed some hockey pucks (frozen burger patties), sausage, and chicken thighs. I figured I'd marinate the chicken in hoisin and chipotle sauce. It didn't take long and always comes out tasty.
Friday, 6:00PM
I have to eat. My plan was to be in bed by 8pm. I knew that wasn't really going to happen, but I had to eat. Casey and I met up for a meal. Well, we met up so she could watch me eat. She didn't eat at all. We went out for Thai carbo-loading and I ordered a couple appetizers and some noodles. Casey had a beer. We got to catch up and had some great one on one time, which I was hoping to get that week. It wasn't exactly a coincidence that Casey's last week was also Ironman week. She planned around my Ironman, choosing to leave after I had completed it so she could be here to support me. Great friend.
Friday, 8:00PM
We walked to Rachel's so I could grab an air mattress for my brother and his fiancee, Kait, to use that night. I had gotten a text from Ed a bit earlier saying he wouldn't be rolling in until probably 10pm. He was well aware that I wanted to get to bed by 8pm and apologized. But I didn't mind. There was no way I was going to be ready for bed by 8pm. Plus, Ed was saving my ass in so many ways that week.
Ed and Kait signed up to volunteer at the transtion area Saturday morning. This ensured they would be able to see me exit the swim, get on the bike, get off the bike, and start to run. This also meant they could pick up my bike and gear for me and bring it back to Manhattan so I wouldn't have to after finishing the Ironman. And, they had to get on a 5am ferry, so they were going to get up with me at 2am and bring me to Pier 34. Great, huh? But that's not all. Ed found a way to take care of the parents. He found a volunteer spot at a bike aid station on the Palisades which was easier to get to from Schenectady than it was from Brooklyn. That meant my parents didn't have to come down on Friday and spend the night which was great. They are both night owls- the whole family is. And I was very concerned about getting to sleep and waking up at a reasonable hour with them in my apartment. Ed solved all these issues. Yes, he's a good man.
Friday, 9:00PM
I bagged up my fuel, prepared some Gatorade, and set aside all that I needed in the morning. I laid in bed, dozing in and out of sleep until Ed and Kait arrived.
Friday, 10:00PM
When they did, we were pretty quick about going to bed. We all had a very long day ahead of us.
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| Fuel. |
I got a solid 3 hours of sleep, I think. Not bad. I began my race morning routine of drinking water, making egg, sausage and cheese sandwiches, and trying to poop. I accomplished two out of three tasks. We were out the door by 3am, through the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel, and up the Henry Hudson Parkway in less than 30 minutes. Ed dropped me off and went to find parking. He wished me luck and I thanked him again.
Bus load after bus load of athletes pulled in to the pier. Most everyone looked very relaxed. I found a teammate and fellow marathon coach, Mike, and we waited patiently for the ferries to begin loading.
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| That's my "It's 3:30am, what the hell?" face. |
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| Athletes file onto the ferries. |
The ferry ride to the transition area took about 40 minutes. I ate my huge breakfast sandwich and drank my water. We where probably the 6th or 7th ferry to arrive and the transition area was already bustling with activity as athletes made last minute preparations. I filled my jetstream bottle with water and put my fuel in the appropriate transition bags. I made a few visits to the porta-potties. Coach Scott spotted me and asked how I was doing. I was calm. Or maybe I was just really tired. No, I was calm. And confident. He agreed that I should be confident (as any good coach would right before an epic event was about to begin). I could see the excitement gleaming from his eyes. His work was done. Today, he'd just be a cheerleader.
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| Last photo. |
The sun was up. The sky is overcast and everyone was wishing it to stay that way. I strip down to my speedo, check my last bag, and line up for the ferry, wetsuit over my shoulder, goggles wrapped around my wrist, and swim cap in hand.
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| Transition area at dawn (taken by Kait). |
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| Transition area at dawn (taken by Kait). |
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| I was on the ferry behind this one. |
Eight ferries in all load and leave the transition area. As we board, we were cheered on by the volunteers and the spectators that bought the $50 pass to be here. Each ferry got a cruise-like send off. One by one we left and I suddenly felt a jolt of excitement. I watched as the transition area became smaller and smaller as we moved north toward the start. The ferry moved slowly, probably so that it wouldn't disturb the swim course. I watched the buoys. A teammate pointed toward a boat basin on the shore.
"That's the halfway point."
We inched past it. I watched the water, trying to tell what the current was doing. It looked like it was flowing upstream at the moment. Because the Hudson is affected by the tides, this was what we were expecting. It should turn in our favor by 7:30 or so. The ferry continued to inch forward, deliberately slow. Maybe it was also trying to build tension and drama. Because it was.
Then we were there.
Race Start: 6:50AM
The sight before me was amazing.
There was a 90 foot barge with professional athletes waiting with anticipation aboard. Two large ferries, like the one I was on, loaded with athletes was docked onto the back of the barge. The athletes were filing out, but holding back behind the pros, waiting their turn. The backdrop was the beautiful tree filled and cliff ladened Palisades Park.
Also on the barge was a clock, ticking upward toward 6:50AM. Then it was.
BOOM!
The canon went off and the pro men dove into the water and powered forward. Everyone on my ferry- on all the ferries- erupted with cheers. Within seconds they were past the first marker. I turned to look at their target- the majestic George Washington Bridge, with the New York City Skyline behind it. It was an awe inspiring sight. The energy in the air was potent. I turned back and the pro women had taken their mark. The clocked moved steadily toward 6:55AM. Then...
BOOM!
The pro women were in and swimming toward the GW. The ferries roared with more cheers. The barge filled quickly with age group athletes. One ferry emptied, moved from the barge, and another full ferry took its place. I watched with amazement at this dance. I watched the pros thrash through the water. I looked up once again at the GW.
Bad. Ass.
A helicopter was circling above, no doubt capturing the moment on film. I hoped they were. I have yet to find a picture that captures what I saw and experienced.
Then it was our turn.
BOOM!
[Part two will follow shortly. Thanks for letting me indulge by breaking this entry up into manageable chunks. To continue reading, click here.]
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| Pros dive in at the start! ( |
