It took me 4 years to finally make it to the start line of the Ironman. I could easily fill a novel with stories of the 4 year lead up to the race with accounts of gruelling miles, peaks and troughs of motivation, setbacks, mechanical issues, incredible friends, running clubs, broken bones, self doubt, social trade-offs, camps (Savage & International), inspirational friends/athletes/training partners, registration peer pressure (Kristin, Joanne & Theresa!) obscene financial investments, caloric fluctuations, patient mechanics/boyfriend and unconditional support and love from family. As my dad and I sat at the Ironman brunch 24 hours after the race watching the video from the previous day, it became clear that like me, all 2500+ athletes who made it out to Zurich had an inspirational story not only of race day, but behind their decision and commitment to even attempt an Ironman.
At the risk of sounding overly positive or repressing any memory of discomfort during the run, I can honestly say that July 13th was one of the best days I’ve ever experienced. I have nothing to compare to the feeling of seeing my mom and dad with expressions of pride and endless encouragement as I slowly shuffled past them on the run with a combined grimace and attempted smile. Of course there were slight inconveniences throughout the day - rain thrashing down during the entire swim and the majority of the bike ride, the kick in the face which caused my goggles to come down over my mouth, the inconvenient timing of needing to use the loo (3 times!), the incorrect perception that my front tire had a slow leak during the entire ride, my failed attempt at grabbing a PB&J from Sarah while cycling (a skill I haven’t yet mastered) – all of which seem insignificant now. The highlights of the day are endless, although the common theme is the spectator support and seeing friends out on the course, and of course food! I don’t know if I’ve adequately expressed just how much I looked forward to seeing my parents, Sarah and Alison, Ronny, Kristin, Hugh, Theresa, Joanne and Kristin's parents throughout the day. Heartbreak Hill, notorious for its challenging 13% grade, was actually a pleasure!
I first heard the DJ announce ‘Amy Smith from Great Britain!’, and then the crowd chanting my name, and my parents and Sarah & Alison cheering for me. The hundreds of spectators moved out of the way just as I approached them- Tour de France style! I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun on the bike. I literally couldn’t stop smiling riding up the hill and I genuinely looked forward to the second lap to do it all over again.
Similarly, the crowd and my family got me through the run. With ‘Smith’ written on the bum and front of my tri suit and my name on my race belt, I had people cheering for me by name during the entire run course. Between the cheers from the crowd and the ‘buffet’ the run was completely tolerable. Experienced marathon runners, Sarah and Alison, were shocked by the food selection and consumption during the marathon, describing it as ‘a social gathering around food’ as opposed to a marathon. I, on the other hand, had no qualms with fully embracing the buffet. I literally stopped at every single food stop- which came to a total of 16 stops! My stomach seemed to be handling food, so I continued to throw it back. The routine was water, coke, warm chicken broth, pretzel sticks, water (in that order). Every now and then I’d throw in an apricot, banana or nuts. I steered clear from the chips/crisps as I had Sarah’s voice in my head telling me that those were not meant for me! Sarah had to wean me away from the buffet at one point to put a Garmin on my wrist and feed me Ibuprofen. I knew there would be tears on the run at some point, I just didn’t know when. Surprisingly, they came around the halfway point. I’m fairly certain that my already dysfunctional running gait was slowly deteriorating to an even worse shuffle. I saw my dad, sitting alone at an oddly quiet part of the race (i.e. very few runners or fans in the area). ‘Daaaaaaad,’ I yelled, so pleased to see him. He had a mixed expression that I can’t quite articulate…something between deep concern, pride and encouragement. ‘Are you okay, Amy?’ he asked me. ‘You stay hydrated out here.’ That simple exchange had me in tears! As predicted, the second set of tears came at the finish line. My mom, dad, Sarah and Alison cheering at the top of their lungs and swinging the enormous Colorado flag, the stands filled with enthusiastic spectators, the loud speaker announcement of ‘Amy Smith, you are an Ironman’, and finally the enormous hugs…I can’t remember many happier moments in my life.
As for the 3 goals:
•Make it to the start - √ Phew -the curse is over!
•Make it to the finish in the allotted time - √ (10:52 total, 58:29 swim, 5:38 bike, 4:05 run)
•Try not to take myself too seriously - √ (I loved just about every minute of the day)
Secret goal:
•Qualify for Hawaii – not this year, but we’ll give it a go next year!
