Flashback

It was when a 71 year old man crossed the line at 16 hours and 48 minutes that I set my alarm to get up in the morning to get in line to sign up for 2009.

I'm sitting watching two days of Le Tour de France, after traveling back from Lake Placid and need to fill in a few missing holes from yesterday. I see that both I and my cell phone petered out about midday.

Suffice to say that yesterday, we got 3" of rain. Interestingly enough, the athletes I talked to today didn't seem fazed by the wet, even though I'm sure there were many cases of hypothermia. We spectators and volunteers were pretty miserable though. Our clothes were wet, our spare clothes were wet and Nina and I stole two heavy duty garbage bags from our aid station that, when made into "dresses," reached down to our knees, I think you can safely say we'd reached rock bottom.

In order to get preferential sign up for next year, I had to put in 4 hours of volunteering and honestly, I was pleased to do so. It was humbling to stand at the first (and last) run aid station, giving water and gatorade to all the runners at miles 1, 12 and 14, 24. One of our fellow volunteers was an inspiration, running back to get coke or soup for athletes who'd missed them and running back up to the 'runners' to give them what they needed. It continued to rain heavily most of the time, and the runners looked progressively more miserable. I saw my friend Mairead at the start of her second loop and she was walking, but her time shows that she and her husband Erik finished strong. She and everyone else I knew are such inspirations.

After dinner with Nina and Bob and Charlotte, while we "dried out" our two garbage bag 'dresses,' we headed into the stadium to watch the last couple of hours of finishers. It ws amazing. I've heard it described as the best rock concert you've ever been to and it's an apt description. The crowd really got into celebrating each and every finisher, no matter their time, no matter whether they ran or staggered across the line. It was pure emotion, pure spirit and pure inspiration. When a runner entered the stadium with seconds to go, 1,000+ spectators collectively chanted "GO GO GO GO GO" to encourage him across the line in under 17 hours. He crossed at 17:00:06, meaning that he is officially a "Did Not Finish" (DNF). So sad, but he still embodies everything that is Ironman.

As you can see, despite some anxieties over the rules for signing up, we all got in (or at least those who I knew) and the registration never opened up online. I felt like an American Idol contestant with the golden ticket. I hugged the person handing out the couponskis for registration when he told me it was a guaranteed entry and it turns out that was the president of Ironman North America, so I hope he realises how important this race is to us ordinary triathletes.