2009 Ironman World Championship

2009 Ironman World Championship Race Report
Note: There are tons of pix below. I couldn't figure out how to insert them in the text.

October 18, 2003 – April 15, 2009
Admit it, your thinking, “Why the heck is this clown beginning this race report six years ago” To fully describe my experience as a participant in this year’s Ironman World Championship in Hawaii, I need to start in 2003. As I write this, I’m now a veteran of eleven Ironman triathlons, three half Ironman races and about a dozen shorter events. However, in October of 2003, I had no clue how to swim. In fact any water deeper than my waist petrified me if I wasn’t wearing a life vest (is that what those things are called?). Furthermore, except for the old Schwinn Varsity in 1972, I’ve never owned a road bike. I had a mountain bike, but after a nasty head injury and multiple abrasions I decided that I had no business on two wheels (except for motorcycles, which is another story).

In the early summer of 2003, I received a job offer from a race management company in Denver that needed a photographer with a few computer skills to help launch a new race photography company. I thought “Ya baby, my ship has come in, my dream job has arrived!” I was then informed that it paid ten bucks an hour and I’d be working LOTS of hours. I thought “What the heck, it’s something new, it allows me to play with fancy new cameras and computers and I get to go to lots of cool events at which people are generally thrilled to be at”. I accepted the job and was informed that “By the way, this October, you are in charge of all athlete photography at the Ironman Triathlon in Hawaii. Figure out the best way to shoot this event, put together a team and go do it.” Initially, I was ecstatic. I’m thinking yahoo, free trip to Hawaii! Reality quickly set in and I realized… I’m not really sure what the heck the Ironman is and I never photographed any sport before. Isn’t that that ridiculous event where people barf, drool and crawl across the finish line? What have I gotten myself into?

Fortunately, I was blessed to have two wonderful mentors (Taryn & Beanie). Although I had the ridiculous title of “Managing Director (or some such thing)”, I was clueless. Taryn & Beanie ran the show and I simply did everything they taught (and told) me while presenting the lame illusion that I was in charge. Rather than make this “brief” blog a full length book, I’ll cut to the chase. My week in Kona in 2003 was the most stressful, sleepless, exhausting week of my life. However, by midnight of the day of the race, it became the most enlightening, emotional and inspiring day of my life.

As mentioned above, I couldn’t swim, I didn’t own a bike and I was a middle of the pack and increasingly bored runner. Yet, as I watched these people run, walk and crawl across that finish line, I knew I had to do the same. I also knew that I would do it in that very spot. I’m pretty good at setting goals and following through. However, the Ironman World Championship isn’t something you just sign up for. You need to be talented and fast. I was neither as a runner and expected that once I learned to swim and ride, I would lack speed and talent in those disciplines as well. If you have speed and talent you then need to qualify by coming in the top 2-3% of your division at one of about twenty Ironman races held worldwide. Oh well, I heard there was a lottery. I’ll just win that and get back to Kona that way.

Upon my return from Hawaii, I joined a gym in Castle Rock, CO with a pool and bought a sweet, shiny Cervelo tri bike. In the interest of not boring you to tears much longer, I’ll fast forward to 2009 in this paragraph (or two). I couldn’t swim one length of the pool and crashed my bike several times (mainly from trying to work those silly shoes that lock into the pedals). I signed up for the local YMCA Triple Trekker Sprint Triathlon in 2004 and started “training”. I believe I walked through the pool swim and came in around 301 of about 302 people in the race (the last guy must’ve had a flat and no spare). I wasn’t dead last (but I thought I was dead). It was demoralizing, humiliating, painful, yet oddly exhilarating. Later that year the World Triathlon Corporation (WTC) announced the inaugural Ironman Arizona. I signed up. Prior to that event in April 2005, I finished an Olympic Distance Race and the Vineman Half-Ironman. The Russian River in the Vineman was cool because it’s about four feet deep and I was once again able to walk through most of the swim.

In April of 2005, I packed my Jeep and drove to Ironman Arizona in Tempe and immediately realized I was way out of my league. Although I had lots of people encouraging me (Ingrid), I was petrified. I spent the days prior to the race looking for every reason to pack up and drive home. Before I knew it, I was treading water and the gun went off. For the next fourteen hours, I swam, biked and ran through the Arizona desert and realized my life was about to change. I crossed that finish line and low and behold, there were friends, mom and sister waiting to greet me. Did I just hear Mike Reilly say “Joe Turcotte, you are an Ironman?” I was hooked. I signed up for Ironman Florida later that year and all five U.S. Ironman events in 2006. I created the IronPuppy project (raised $25,000 for Canine Companions for Independence) to bring meaning, inspiration and motivation to my otherwise lonely, obsessive, often selfish pursuit of the next Ironman finish. Shortly after Ironman Arizona in April of 2007 I had a nasty crash that took me out for the year. In 2008, I re-created the IronPuppy Project and did a couple more events (raised another $11,000 for CCI), this time dragging several friends along who figured that if I could do this so could they (this inspired the IronNutz…another story). By 2009, the IronPuppy Project had become an annual passion of mine. Although, another five Ironmans in one year is unlikely to happen for me again, I’ll continue to “compete” in several endurance events to maintain the IronPuppy motivation. On April 15th of this year, the Kona Lottery Gods smiled upon me and I was chosen to return to Hawaii, not as an overworked, stressed out photographer but as one of those lucky people who will swim, bike and run through triathlon’s sacred ground. My 11th Ironman would bring me back to where I first witnessed this amazing event.

Sunday, October 4, 2009:
Sitting in an airplane for eight hours hurts more than riding the bike for six! Just thought I’d get that out of the way. Upon arriving in Kona I immediately realized that as much as I tried to simulate the heat and humidity of Kona in Colorado, the reality of Kona would be different. Diane’s sister Dixie and her husband Will took me to their place and set me up in a sweet, private, warehouse “condo”, complete with tons of tools and a 56 Chevy pick-up right in my room. It was awesome! I had my bike together in 30 minutes. After a short 30 minute run to get the feel of the heat and humidity I sat down to a fabulous, home cooked, nutrient dense race week meal. I don’t recall what it was…..except for the brownies and ice cream.

Monday, October 5, 2009:
I was up by 3am (a good thing since that would be my race day wake-up time). I had a fantastic pre-swim breakfast of bananas, papaya, cereal and maybe another brownie. I passed on the ice cream, because I’m a disciplined Ironman triathlete. I headed to the swim course around 6:30am and was thrilled to see hundreds of other athletes and about half the swim course buoys laid out. I was also intimidated since I’d never swam in the ocean without a wetsuit. The fear was unfounded once I started swimming. The water was the same temp as the YMCA pool and it was actually much clearer. I swam about forty minutes and loved it. It was literally like swimming in someone’s tropical fish tank. Lots of colorful fish and coral. Although I knew the lack of a wetsuit would make me about ten minutes slower than my best Ironman time, my fear was alleviated and I was fired up for the race.

Tuesday - Thursday, October 6-8, 2009:
These three days were somewhat of a blur. My whole “IronPosse” arrived on Wednesday. I was incredibly fortunate to have nine friends at this event to support me. The level of comfort that results from so many friends at an event like this is huge. I was enjoying the company too much to be stressed and the whole week prior to the race was not much different than if we had all met to simply have some fun in Hawaii.

On one of these days, I and fellow IronNutz, Kevin & Keith stopped by our friends, the German Pro “Team Abu Dhabi”. We hung out with Swen Sundberg and Faris Al Sultan for about an hour and I was comforted to note that their condo was as cramped and unorganized as my typical Iron week hotel room. It was really a blast to hang out and B.S. with a guy who has actually won this event and with Swen who was an accomplished hopeful. It reaffirmed the concept that most of the pros in this sport are simply very nice laid back people with the same passion for triathlon as the rest of us. They just happen to be incredibly gifted and train at a level that would put me in an early grave.

Thursday night was the “Welcome Banquet”. In typical Ironman fashion it was a first class event. A full blown Hawaiian luau with an impressive variety of fantastic food. For the IronVirgins in my posse, it was an eye-opening look at just how important this race is in the world of triathlon. It also reminds the athletes of what a world class endeavor they are about to undertake. One of the coolest things about this particular dinner (my 11th), was that it didn’t create additional stress for me. In fact, while speaking with other athletes both pro and age groupers it confirmed to me that I did all I was supposed to. For thirty weeks, I ate, trained, recovered and rested as well as most anyone. I was ready and excited for race day.

Friday, October 9, 2009:
This was my do nothing day. The gang all went out and played at the beach and around town while I kicked back at the condo, packed my transition bags, did a final bike check, ate some brownies and ice cream and packed for the ride to bike check-in.

Bike check-in Kona is a bit different than at the other Ironman events. You have your helmet checked and walk through a gauntlet of statisticians that write down everything they notice about your bike (brand, tires, aerobars etc.). You are also allowed to leave your helmet and shoes on the bike. After the bike check, it was back to the condo for a massive pre-race dinner with all my friends and Team Abu Dhabi. The feast was fabulous and I was in the sack by around 8pm. Sleep was sporadic to non-existent but I didn’t care. In fact, it was the most stress free pre-race night in all eleven of my Ironman races.

Saturday, October 10, 2009, Race Day:
Up at 3am, coffee, juice, bagel and a bit of final reflection upon the past six years. The anticipatory excitement was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. In contrast to feeling “out of my league” as I was at that first race in Arizona, I felt like I belonged there. This was where I was supposed to be on this day. It was a pretty nice feeling. Diane got up shortly after me and ran through my usual checklist. As an IronSherpa extraordinaire, she rattles off everything I usually forget: Gu, Gatorade, body Glide etc. We arrived at the start around 4:45am. I double checked my transition bags, pumped my tires and went to body marking. IronNutz Kevin & Keith were already there. They had volunteered to work the race and it was nice to have these two stroll me through the pre-race process. On a brief side note, Kevin & Keith outdid my five Ironman season in 2006 by completing all six U.S. Ironman races this year. They are an incredibly studly couple’o’nutz. By 5:30 it was simply a matter waiting until the cannon fired at 7am. After hearing the National Anthem (I love that song) and watching some Navy SEALs parachute into the ocean, I smooched my honey, said goodbye to the Nutz and went to the beach.

The Swim: As I made way to the start along with over 1800 other athletes, I noticed a calm in the crowd that is often absent at other events. Eighteen-hundred athletes from almost sixty countries were all contemplating the day ahead and probably reflecting on the year(s) of training and racing that got them there. It was so inspiring to me to know that all around me were people who swam, biked and ran for months prior to this day. I did it all in Colorado. They did it in South Africa, Japan, Brazil, New Zealand etc. etc. etc. I was a part of something huge. The expected pre-swim nervousness bordering upon fear never materialized. I felt pure exhilaration and euphoria…….BAM!!! The damn cannon scared the crap outta me and we were off. The best thing about swimming with the best triathletes in the world was that within two minutes, most of them were so far ahead of me that I rarely if ever got kicked, punched or scratched as is often the case in a mass start. Another noticeable difference was that all the water I inhaled was not due to my usual hyperventilating but due to the humongous smile I had on my face. I was in THE IRONMAN!!! For the next hour and forty minutes, I plodded along at my typical leisurely pace until I looked up at a couple of Navy SEALS waiting anxiously to yank me out of the water. By the way, “leisurely” is a term good swimmers use to describe my pace. For me personally, it was everything I had. Prior to the race I had decided that when I crossed that finish line I would have nothing left in the tank. I would not blow up by overdoing it. However, the plan was to walk that fine line between performance and meltdown. I exited the swim feeling pretty good, made my way through transition and to my bike. To my surprise there were dozens maybe even a couple hundred bikes still there. At my first YMCA triathlon in 2004 there was only one bike in transition. That’s because it’s owner had finished the ride and was already running.

The Bike: The bike is my favorite. Unlike the swim or run, on the bike you can actually stop working, take a drink and a bite to eat while still maintaining forward motion. Unfortunately, as the famous Kona winds picked up I soon realized that not pedaling resulted in not moving. Looks like I’ll have to pedal the full 112 miles. That’s OK! Since I’m such a crappy swimmer and a relatively strong cyclist I was able to spend much of the next six hours passing people. I exited the swim in position 1698, by the end of the bike I had passed 372 people to advance to position 1326. I like to say that I love training and racing in the heat. I will never say that again. Try as I might, there’s no way to truly prepare for the heat and humidity of the lava fields short of actually being there. The wind also adds another dimension of difficulty that is hard to duplicate. Regardless, It was a blast! I was grinning the whole 112 miles and had some pretty cool memories of hanging out of a car driven by Natascha Badmann’s doctor as I photographed her flying down The Queen K in 2003. I also had time to reflect upon my primary reason for being there…Canine Companions for Independence (CCI). Though not quite guilt, there were certainly feelings of what a great life I have and that I’m truly blessed to simply be able to ride a bike, let alone in the Hawaii Ironman. Like everyone else I have the same days of stress, worry and maybe a bit of self-pity when things aren’t going too great. It’s those times that I think of the people who CCI serves and realize that I have everything any human being could ever want. Oooops, I digress. I had hoped for a sub-5:30 bike but the winds put an end to that goal. It was still my second fastest bike split ever and it was just plain fun. Coming into transition felt like the final mile in a Tour de France stage. The streets are packed, the people are screaming and the legs are craving a nice massage…..but not yet.

The Run: Getting off the bike and putting on the running shoes were a brief few minutes of ecstasy. As I leapt (sorta) to my feet for the final 26.2 miles, I realized that I still had a long way to go. As I ran out of transition, the voice of some dude I passed yelled “Yo Joe”. I turned around and Randy was working the transition area and in my zoned out state I ran right by him. Although I was quite consistent in transition training from bike to run, I had never pedaled a full six hours and gone straight to the run. I had completed a few 100 mile rides immediately followed by a run. However, none of those rides were as difficult as the one I had just finished. Those first couple miles were tough. I thought a sub-5 hour marathon was not possible. Soon a rhythm developed and the ten mile mark through town was motivating. It wasn’t until then that I actually realized that I would finish. I’ve seen enough of these events in person and on TV to realize that the body can do strange things in the final miles of such an event and avoided thinking about the finish. I no longer considered a sub 12 hour finish and even gave up on a sub 13. But I was realizing that a finish would happen. The turn-around point at the Energy Lab was absolutely gorgeous. At the first aid station was one of the Hawaiian fire dudes teaching what appeared to be his 6-7 year old son how to carry on the family tradition. My mom told me to never play with fire, this guy was encouraging his 1st grader to do just that. For about a mile I ran directly into the Hawaiian sunset. In any race there is always a point at which you realize you’re in the home stretch. After the return to the Queen K, you see the lights of Kona and the finish in the distance. At about mile 21, fellow Pikes Peak Tri Club member and friend Rob Ladewig caught up to me. We had been playing cat and mouse all day and I knew I’d see him before the finish. I was walking at the time and he said “Let’s run this thing in together”. I had all but given up on running, completing the marathon under five hours or finishing under thirteen. I wasn’t bummed about it, I just didn’t think it possible. Regardless, I decided to stay with Rob as best as I could. Two miles later, the lights were closer and I realized my 13 minute pace had dropped to around ten minutes. Adrenaline is an amazing thing. By mile 24 Rob said, “Hey Joe, if you have anything left in the tank you need to go for it”. I picked it up a bit and as I came within the final mile the crowd became nutz! Just prior to turning to the final quarter mile on Alii Dr. People began yelling, “Are you ready for this”? I wasn’t quite sure what they meant until that final turn.

The last two minutes were a blur. The spotlights were blinding the crowd was huge and they were LOUD!!! It’s the most amazing thing. Hundreds of people are screaming and high-fiving you. Just ahead is a massive JumboTron TV. Just below it is the finish arch and Mike Reilly announcing “Joe Turcotte, you are an Ironman”. I’d heard that phrase ten times previously but this one was different. I was back in Kona and instead of being the guy behind the camera at the finish; I was the guy in front of it.

Post-Race: Ten feet beyond the finish were IronNutz; Kevin & Keith, they got me though body-marking at 4:45 that morning and prevented me from keeling over fifteen hours later. Events this long play weird games with the mind. After ten previous Ironmans, by 18 miles into the run, I thought I knew enough to conclude that a sub-13 hour finish was impossible. Yet the simple act of Rob catching up to me and saying a few words pushed me to not only a sub-13 finish but a sub-5 hour run. Shortly beyond the finish were the people who made an already cool event the best experience of my life. Dixie, Willie, Kevin, Keith, Leslie, Randy, Pam, Greg and of course my soul mate Diane. I’m a wee bit obsessive and a tad compulsive. Diane accepts that and when I come up with these wacky “unachievable” goals, she may roll her eyes, but she’ll then provide nothing less than total support and I’m pretty sure she sorta likes me. Eleven Ironmans in less than five years can be accomplished by either surrounding yourself with wonderful, supportive, upbeat optimists or living a life of reclusive loneliness. I’m fortunate to have the former.

Final Note: Did anyone actually read all of this? Just wondering……………..