January 28, 2024

If you can't be an athlete, be an athletic supporter

 


This photo is from January twelve years ago, and it popped in a nice Facebook memory last week. It is still one of my favorite running photos. The original Facebook caption is:

"Another great day on the road at the Carlsbad Marathon. New PR of 3:44:57. Thanks to my awesome support crew, including the tambourine girl who is nine months pregnant."

Tambourine girl is my friend Marci. Along with her daughter in the pink hat, and Kristy who was taking the photo, she was cheering on both her husband Sean, and me, the other Sean, as we ran the Carlsbad Marathon. Marci has run a number of marathons herself, and back in 2006 she and I crossed hand in hand at my first marathon finish line in Washington D.C., but at nine months pregnant she was obviously out for this one. 

The marathon is of course a difficult endeavor, and though you are out there fighting yourself, the course and the clock, it is rarely a solo effort. The support of your family and friends, and even random strangers cheering you on can make all the difference. I have always felt that the day spent as support crew could be just as long and difficult as those running the race. I have volunteered at a number of races and events, but haven't been on the sidelines cheering on people I knew very often, since we were often running together. I had a chance to do just that in November of 2022.

I was signed up to do the 2020 Arizona Ironman. It was of course postponed to 2021 due to Covid, and then to 2022. In the meantime, I developed arthritis in my right hip and could no longer run, so I would not be toeing the start line. However, I had three friends doing the Ironman, so I flew down to cheer them on. 

Even though I wasn’t participating, I had paid the (non-refundable) entry fee, so I picked up my gear along with my friends. Along with a bit of swag, I had the wristband that would get me some backstage athlete access on race day. 


On race day I got up early to go to the start line with my friends. It was a 3:30am wake up call to what would be a very long day. 

The Ironman distance is:
a 2.4 mile swim,
followed by a 112 mile bike ride,
followed by a 26.2 marathon distance run

As I have mentioned before, I am a sucker for the emotion of a finish line, but the start line is pretty special too. All the pent-up energy, nervousness and excitement is palpable. After months and sometimes years of training, the day is finally here. So many different stories and paths brought the varied people to this single moment. Race morning is often a bit of hurry up and wait, so you have lots of time with your thoughts before the gun goes off. I drank it all in while doing my best to support my friends Sean, Jonathan, and BG as they prepared and waited.


After seeing them off into the swim, I started my walking of the course. I went to one of the bridges to watch the swimmers go by as the sun came up, before heading to the finish line of the swim. 



The Ironman event is a pretty well-oiled machine and depends on hundreds of volunteers. At the swim finish line there was a line of volunteers there to help the wobbly swimmers get out of their wetsuits. Jonathan was first out of the water, followed by BG (who I somehow missed) and then Sean after an hour and fifty minutes of swimming. After getting out of their wetsuits, they jogged back to the transition area to start the next challenge, the 112 mile bike ride. 


The bike course was a three lap out-and-back route, so rather than try and fight the traffic and closed roads, I stationed myself about a half mile up from the turn-around. I would watch them head in at the end of each lap, then cross the street and see them again as they headed back out a few minutes later. The Ironman had a pretty good tracking app, so I had a decent idea of when each person would be coming by. Since my three guys started the course at different times and were biking at different paces, the times they came by were pretty spread out, so I was still able to duck out and get food or a cup of coffee now and then.




The riders were fighting winds for most of the ride, so the times were a bit slower than they expected. Sean was also fighting a raging headache. I had tried to find him some Tylenol or Advil between laps, but came up empty. Something to add to the support checklist for next time. 

Overall, athletes need to finish the Ironman in under seventeen hours. However, each leg of the Ironman has its own cut off time. You need to be out of the water by a certain time to be allowed to start the bike. Then you need to finish the bike ride by a certain point to be able to start the run. Since the bike route was a three loop course, you also had to start the third lap by a certain time or you would be pulled off the course. As I made my way toward the finish line and the bike turnaround, I saw the first few riders be told the heartbreaking news that their day was over. 


We headed to the bike finish to see Jonathan and then Sean come in to finish the ride. BG had started the third lap on time, but he unfortunately did not make a time cut off further down the road. He and other athletes were swept up, having already ridden 100 of the 112 miles. He was understandably pretty dejected when we caught up with him later. 

The run course was a two lap route, so we mostly stayed in one place to see Jonathan and Sean go by. Sean was slowly reeling in Jonathan on the run, but he was still struggling with the headache and of course the other aches and fatigue of all the distance he had already covered. After seeing him go by at mile seventeen, we all headed to the finish line to wait for Jonathan. 

All finish lines are amazing, but the one at the Ironman is really something special. Of course it is rewarding and emotional to be the one crossing the line, but I get choked up watching strangers finish as well. Back before I bottled everything up, one of the few things that would make me cry was watching a finish line. The Ironman did not disappoint. 

This is a moment for some random runner.


We saw both Jonathan and Sean cross the finish line, and hear their names called out by Mike Reilly followed by, “You are an Ironman!” Mike Reilly has been the voice of the Ironman finish line for 33 years, and this was the second to last race that he was announcing before retiring, so it was a little extra special to be there to hear him call out their names.



After Sean and Jonathan had some time to rest and get a bit of food in them, we gathered up their gear and made our way home. Even though we had been up close to 24 hours, we stayed up a while longer to hear stories about each of their journeys. It was such an incredible day. I desperately wished I had been on their side of the event, running alongside them, but it was still a pretty amazing day as a spectator. Wistful but wonderful.

I hope to participate in start and finish lines again on the other side of the ropes in the coming years. I am just not ready to close the door on that part of my life, which I will probably write about soon. In the meantime and near future, I will lean into the role of volunteer, head cheerleader, and/or designated domestique. 

And get me a tambourine. 


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