Observations From an Ironman Spectator

I’ve been thinking about the best way to describe my experience at the Ironman last weekend in Tempe, AZ. My brother and sister-in-law competed—and finished. (2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike ride, 26.2 mile run)

Many words have come to mind—dedication, determination, inspiration, awe, crazy folks—but none of these seem to describe my lasting feeling about my experience that day.

It is a mystery to me why anyone would do this. (Keep in mind that I am speaking from a place of limited fitness as a brief walk each day is what I aspire to.) That said, I do not believe training for and competing in an Ironman is about fitness alone. I believe it’s about proving something, pushing limits, expanding the concept of self—and just plain ole’ dig yer heels in and finish even if it kills you kind of perseverance.

I started out the morning in Tempe pondering this question. It was almost 6 am as my Mom and I looked for Bill and Jen in a mass of people—probably about 4,000 including spectators and volunteers. This alone seemed a little crazy to me.

When I am fortunate enough to attend, it is an important ritual for me to see Bill before he begins a race. It is reassuring to see his face and to know that he is OK and feeling ready.

When we found them they were smearing deodorant behind their knees (I didn’t ask) and straining to get into their wetsuits. The loud speakers were—well, loud—and along with the music was a guy delivering warnings about the forecasted heat, a lost bag of gear, and general words of encouragement.

We took a few photos, checked in about how they were feeling (Jen=ready to get going! Bill=calm and confident), and then watched them walk into the crowd to start their day.

I don’t want to minimize or downplay the effort and accomplishment that goes into this kind of event. Bill and Jen are committed, exceptionally fit, and likely mentally stronger than most folks in that they are able to push themselves beyond limits they had once observed. It occurs to me as well that they likely know themselves better now than ever before. Not only in a physical sense, but in a whole-person sense as well.

I believe there is a spirituality not only in the accomplishment of finishing the event, but in the process of training—of honoring their bodies enough to prepare adequately and to pay attention, and make adjustments as they go.

Training and racing have permeated their lives. It has restructured their social group and their interests. It has focused their energy not only on fitness, but on the mental battles behind getting out of bed to run in the rain, going swimming with a sinus infection, and just moving off the couch and, well, moving.

The harmony of breath, adrenaline, and fatigue must be a powerful force. I can only speculate here because I have never pushed myself in these ways. There is power, nonetheless, no matter the source or combination of factors.

Congratulations does not seem an adequate sentiment to express at the end of such an accomplishment. But then the reward must be an internal one anyway. I am proud, I am awed, and I am inspired by their dedication and commitment to their goal, and to their ability to tough it out. So, congratulations guys! You are Ironmen!

Here's a link to Bill's blog if you'd like to read his full account. http://fromfattotri.blogspot.com/