Ironman - The final chapter

             After 3.8km of swimming. 180km of cycling, and 42.2km of running. I made it to the line. (Video Attached. Click on the area where the video should be. It does not always come up)

 So here we are... The last blog post in my Ironman adventure story :-) This is usually the chapter in a story where the Hero, upon returning from their quest after slaying the evil beast that plagued their land; is met with a grand celebration. Songs are sung in their honor and a holiday made in their name... But this story has a different ending. I did slay my 'Dragon'. But there are still many more beasts to battle.

I'll start off with just saying "WOW". It's actually over. The training, the nerves, the injuries, the race! It's all done :-) It's been a busy, busy year to say the least. I had some ups and downs throughout my journey but I never lost sight of my Goal. And that goal was to Cross the finish line on Lakeshore Dr. in Penticton, B.C. at Ironman Canada :-) Come Hell or high water, I was going to get there in the end. And little did I know before the race, Hell would come. And instead of high water, I was met with 'no water'. (I'll explain later).

 I don't want to spend a lot of time boring you, so I'll get right to the point. THE RACE . (Sorry, this may take awhile)

The final few days leading up to the race were hard. Physically and even more so mentally. I really just wanted to get the race over and done with. I can never seem to get my body on track when I'm traveling and I never seem to sleep great. So I never really felt 100% in those days leading up to Ironman. It was nice having my Mom and a few friends around to keep my mind off things. But there were a few times my mind took over and I felt overcome with worry and nerves. At no point was I worried about finishing. But it's all those 'what ifs' you have to keep yourself from thinking about. And it all came to a head on the Friday after driving the bike course. Mentally I was exhausted. So I went to bed early and looked forward to the arrival of Saturday.




Gear drop off 




T-Minus 1 day until the race.

Saturday morning, I had to head down to the race site to drop off my bike and gear in the transition area. So I headed out early and got my stuff done so I did not have to worry about it the rest of the day. I really just wanted a nice easy day with no stress. And that's exactly what I got :-) I went for a quick run just to get the blood flowing in the legs around lunch. And then just took it easy the rest of the day. Watched a few movies and planned for an early night.

 RACE DAY: I was up at 3:30am after a very restless sleep. I made my breakfast but could hardly keep it down. Outwardly I was calm, cool and collected. But inside, my nerves were raging a battle. But I was doing my best to keep them in check. 4:45am I drove down to the race site to meet up with a good friend and fellow Road Rebel Ian Slater. Ian has been an inspiration to me over the last few years and a huge part in my Ironman training. I met him on Main St. just before the Special needs bags drop off and body marking... We walked through the 'Athletes Only' section and made our way down the chute. I dropped my bike and run special needs bags in their respective place and then went and got body marked. #293. The smell of those large Black magic markers always reminds me it's race day and gets the adrenaline pumping.

In transition on race morning

Once Ian and I were in transition, I checked over my bike, pumped up the tires and made sure I had all my gear in order. Also, I used the Porta-Johns a few times ;-) It was maybe around 5:30am at this point and we had some time to kill before the race started at 7am. It was nice having Ian around in the morning to chat with and make a few jokes. It helped the time pass. Mentally I knew what was about to unfold, and I felt ready. I felt good. I was ready to kick some Ironman ass!!! It's interesting looking around the transition area at this point. Here are 3000 other fit people. Ready to push their bodies and minds to the limits. And as quiet as it was, you could sense that everyone was battling with something that morning.

At 6:30am they begun to allow athletes out on the beach. As soon as I headed out on the beach I heard my Mom :-) She was standing in the crowd waving. So Ian and I walked over and chatted with her and a few others for awhile. I actually had to cut our chat short, because I suddenly got a little emotional. I had to say some quick good-byes and turn and walk away. I had to fight the tears away. I think it was more of the barrier of just getting to Ironman and standing on the start line was gone. There I was, ready to do it. Ready and waiting for the starting horn.

It's a fight to the finish in the swim

THE SWIM: 3, 2, 1, GOOOOOOOOO! The sound of the starting horn made everything fade away. All of the sudden I was snapped into action and the nerves were gone. There I was, starting the first leg of my first Ironman :-) If you've seen the pictures, you can tell that the starting of the swim for an Ironman is not a fun place to be. At Ironman Canada, there were just shy of 3000 people on the beach waiting to start swimming. So for the first bit, it seems like you are hardly swimming at all. I'd say the first 700m were the worst. I was elbowed, kicked, pushed, grabbed. At one point a wore a foot to the face which knocked my goggles half off my face. This would affect me the rest of my swim, since several times I had to stop and empty the water from the right eye piece... For me the swim, regardless of the craziness, is always kind of boring. Your face is in the water. You move in a straight line, and you just go. So for 3.8km that's exactly what I did. At points throughout the swim, I had some room to stretch, but at other times it seemed like I was a gear in a cog. Bunched in with hundreds of other people. I took it pretty easy in the swim. Maybe a little to easy looking back. I wanted to save as much energy as I could... In the last few hundred meters, I felt excited about finishing up the first leg. I really just wanted to get on my bike and make up some of the time I had lost to the good swimmers... So out of the water I came, feeling pretty great. I grabbed my gear bag and got changed into my cycling gear. I walked over to my bike. Took a deep breath, and headed out of transition.

I love B.C.

THE BIKE: I got onto my bike feeling really good. The heat of the day had not made an appearance, and I was excited to get riding. The first few km's are through the downtown core of Penticton. I remember saying good-bye to the town, but also adding in a 'See you later' at the end... I must say, that the Ironman Canada bike course is beautiful to say the least. You have no chance to ever be bored out there. Just so much great scenery... I passed a lot of people in the first 20-40km. That made me feel pretty good, but also I wondered if I was pushing to hard? So I toned back my effort to try and conserve my legs for the later bike and the run. (I'd later regret this decision). The first 60ish km's of the bike course are relatively easy. There is one nice little climb called 'Macleans Creek' but other than that, it's mostly flat with some rollers. I seen One really bad accident in which a man flew off his bike at about 65km/h. It did not look pretty. But I just pushed on and hoped for the best for him (First aid was right there)... Just before the 60km mark, I got off my bike to use a one of the several Porta-Johns on course. I figured may as well lighten the load before the mountains ;-)... At about the 60km mark, things change. You take a fast right turn and what was once easy, becomes very hard. Instant hill. It's about a 2km climb before you reach the base of the first Mountain section of the course. The whole time, the beginning of the mountain is head on. The first mountain is known as 'Richters Pass'. This is a beast of a climb. With a total distance of just over 11kms long and an avg. grade of 9%, this is nothing to laugh at. I began my assault on Richters and was still feeling great. I never once stood on my pedals and never felt like I had to work to hard to push on. Nearing the top, I was still feeling really good. I mean I had just killed that climb. I felt like the rest of the day was mine for the taking :-) And once at the top, what goes up, must come down. The down parts on this course are great. You can really fly :-) But all good things must come to an end. Once at the bottom of Richters, I remember thinking to myself "Man it's starting to get pretty hot out." (This was an understatement to say the least) From about this point on, the course is constantly climbing ever so slightly. Still feeling pretty good, I was excited to get to the half way mark of the course (90km)... Jump ahead to about the 120km mark in the course. You reach a section called 'The out and back". And like it's name, it is what it is. You turn down a side road and travel down to a turn around and head back before connecting back on to the Highway where you just came from. Coming into the out and back, I still felt great. But the heat of the day was starting to get to me. At every aid station, I would dump a full bottle of water all over myself, and within minuets it seemed I was bone dry. I remember grabbing a full water bottle at the aid station in the out and back. And with the next aid station only about 20kms away, I figured I'd be fine... After the out and back, the only hard part left of the course is the last mountain section called 'Yellow Lake'. There is an aid station at the top of Yellow lake, and once there, you only have 40km left to go :-) By the time I reached the bottom of Yellow Lake, I drank the remainder of my water and tossed my bottle in a drop station. (Even though I was now climbing a mountain, my race went 'down hill' from here)... As I approached the top of Yellow Lake, spectators line both sides of the road, giving you just enough room for Two bikes side by side. I remember thinking 'this is how the Tour de France must feel'. I could see the aid station up ahead. With the heat of the day now reaching over 35 degrees, I could not wait to have a nice cold bottle of water handed to me :-) So I pull up to the aid station, and I am met with people saying the worst thing I could hear at that point 'We are out of water'. I slowed almost to a halt so I could ask how, why, WHAT THE FUCK? Everyone just shrugged and said, 'sorry, but we think the next aid station has some.' Um, OK. That's another 20km's from here. And it's hot. REALLY HOT... So I did the only thing I could do, I pushed on. I knew I was starting to feel the effects of dehydration within the next 15mins. I started to get a bad headache and my mouth and throat were dry. I realised, despite all my fluid intake during the day, I had not gone to the washroom now for over 3 hours. Not a good thing. So I just kept thinking about the aid station and just kept pushing since I figured I'd be fine once I got there... And then, up a small hill and around a corner, there it was waiting for me :-) My saviour. I pulled up to the aid station, unmounted off my bike and looked at the first person I seen and just said 'Water'. They looked at me and said "Sorry, we're out'. I remember feeling like I had just been kicked in the face. I licked my upper lip and could taste the salt. I knew at this point I was in rough shape to say the least. I felt like I had just stepped off my bike into the pits of Hell it was so hot. And with nothing to cool me down, I was only getting worse... You know those scenes in movies where a ship or sub are sinking, and all the red lights and alarms are going off? Well that's how I felt. My body was that sinking ship. I stood in the shade of trees for a few minuets trying to collect myself. I was worried a bit. I've never felt this bad during a race or out training before. I was now in uncharted territory of my own self. Physically and mentally. So I looked at the situation at hand. I only had 20 more km's to go before the end of the bike. Usually 20km on a bike is easy. I could do it in my sleep. But the condition of my body, I knew it was going to be a struggle. My race was quickly slipping away from. But I choose to hold on and got back on my bike... Those last 20kms were Hell on earth. I was dizzy. Faint. Head pounding. And the strangest thing of all, I had actually lost my voice. This for some reason worried me the most... I felt like I was working hard just to keep at 25km/Avg. It seemed like those last 20km lasted forever... Once I reached the last kilometer. I knew the rest of the day was going to be hard. But for right now, I had to try and do my best to recover from the damage I received. I could hear cheering. But I was not excited. I got off my bike and walked to the nutrition tent. I would later find out I spent 15 minuets in transition. At the time, I thought I was only there for a few minuets. I sat in the shade of the change tent trying not to act like anything was wrong. But inside, I knew the biggest battle was yet to come.

There I go.

THE RUN: I have a high pain tolerance. And generally, when I am racing, I can tune out those signals from my body when something starts aching or hurting. But this was something different all together. My brain hurt. Now dehydrated, I had to go out and run a full Marathon in 36 degree heat. How is one supposed to try and rehydrate with those conditions? I knew if race officials seen me struggling or acting strange, they could pull me off the course for medical reasons and my race would be over. So I tried my best to wear a smile out of Transition and onto the run course... From there on out, it was pure survival mode. The first 2 or 3km were just awful. I was hot, stiff, felt heavy. Not the way you want to feel when you're running a marathon. I seen my mom and Steve on the corner of Main st. and Westminster. I quickly stopped and gave her a hug and said "see you in a few hours." Sometimes it's these little things that help keep you in the game and focused... The first few km's are up hill heading out of town. And once out of town, you have no protection from the sun. You run along a rock wall more or less the rest of the way. And the heat that radiates off that wall is just brutal. At each aid station, I grabbed sponges and ice to put down my top to try and cool myself off. This seemed to be helping. But by no means was I out of trouble. I got out of town and from there it was aid station to aid station for me. It was either a slow jog or a walk up every hill on the run course. This also seemed to help... At the 10km mark, I seen my first victim of the heat. It was a man, sitting on the side of the road with an I.V. in his arm while a race volunteer held up the bag. This was a strange sight to me. And it gave me an awful feeling. Would I end up that way I wondered? I Pushed on...  It was not long after this I felt the first signs of sickness :-( From being so hot and over heated, and now pushing my body to its limits, my stomach had shutdown and stopped absorbing nutrients. (Not a good thing). And then it happened almost out of no where. I began throwing up. I stopped, took a few steps to try and regain my posture, and a threw up again. At this point a race official was riding by on his bike and stopped and asked if I was OK. Whipping face off I said, 'Ya, I think so.' But his response back were not the words I wanted to hear. He said, 'If I see you sick again, I'm going to pull you from the course.' I just shook my head in understanding and started to walk. I was really worried now. I was not even at the 15km mark and I was in rough shape. I had not taken in any nutrients (energy) since the start of the run, and I now just threw up what ever I did have... So I gave myself a goal to just get to the half way turn around. Easy said than done. From 17km to the 25km mark is the hardest part of the run course. And this is where I seen the most damage inflicted on athletes. Every 10 meters there was someone laying on the ground. Sitting. Getting an I.V. Being picked up by the sag waggon calling it quits. I did my best to struggle through it and get down to the 21.1km turn around. When I got there, It felt good to have made it this far. I thanked my body for making it through. My only saviour so far was that I had not run out of energy. My will to continue was there, but my body had other plans. I was half way to glory, but potentially half way to failure... I kept thinking about how great my race would have been had they not run out of water so many hours ago. I was pissed off to say the least. I met tones of athletes along the way who had the same complaint. And the only other thing on my mind at that point was that I had not seen my friend Ian on the run. Maybe I missed him? Maybe he was ahead of me? I hoped for the best, but feared the worst. (I would later find out Ian was Pulled off the bike course at that first aid station that ran out of water. Only about 30mins after I had passed by and was told the same thing. I felt for him) ... Up to the 30km mark it was much the same. Touch and go. Run, jog, walk the hills. At each aid station I sipped on flat coke hoping to get some energy in me and hoping not to get sick again. I also would take a cup of pretzels and fill it with water, then drink the salty water... It was now after 7pm. I had started racing at 7am. I had not gone to the washroom since around 8:30am. I had not eaten anything other than sugar since 4am. All these little realisations started coming to mind. But also, I only had 12km left in my first Ironman :-) Not long after, the sun did start to disappear behind the mountains. And this made me smile. And feel a lot better :-) Once on the edge of town, and over the last hill, I pulled myself together as best I could and tried to run the last 8km. I knew I was home :-) My body was spent, my mind was gone long ago. But I just focused on the finish line and took it one step at a time. I had a 100 reasons to stop and give up out there, but I had 101 to keep going. I remember thinking about the finish line and how i've never wanted something so badly... I could not wait to see the finish line. I was excited to see my mom. I was excited to become an Ironman... Once on Main st. It's only a few km's to the finish. I made the last turn and seen my mom and Steve. They yelled my name. I was happy they were there to share in my moment of glory. As I came onto Lakeshore Drive, I had 1km to go. I just kept telling myself I could rest at the end... The crowd is thick all along Lakeshore Drive. It's loud. You can hear the announcer saying peoples names as they cross the line... 500 meters. 100meters. 10 meters. Finishing chute. Arms raised. Finish Line :-) JESSE JAMES BROWN, YOU ARE AN IRONMAN.

And with a smile on my face :-)

THE FINISH LINE: Once over the line, the sheer exhaustion hit me almost instantly. A finish line catcher volunteer ran over to me and asked how I was feeling. I told him I was 'just really thirsty'. We made small talk, but to be honest I was dizzy and slightly disoriented. Not sure if I made any sense at all. Talking was not going well at this point. I seen our friend Sherry in the finishing area since she was a volunteer nurse. She said I looked dehydrated. (At the time, I had no idea just how bad I looked) I was handed my finishers medal, hat and T-Shirt. The Volunteer stayed with me until he was satisfied I was not going to faint or go into shock. I grabbed a can off 7-Up and walked out of the finishers area to meet up with my mom... I seen her almost right away :-) We hugged and her and Steve congratulated me. I just wanted to sit down. So I sat on the end of the results table. I just did an Ironman, deal with it, I'm not moving lol... My mom, Steve and I chatted for a few minuets about the events that just unfolded. I was still in shock at what I had just done. My brain was fried.... (*WARNING* - Get the tissues ready mom) I remember my mom asking me if I thought about my Aunt Kathy at all during the race. I looked at her and just shook my head up and down. The fact is, I did think about my Aunt a lot out there. Her passing of Cancer in 2006 was what pushed me into my now health and fitness ways. I looked down at the ground trying to fight off the tears. But they came anyway. I broke down. Not just because I was thinking of my aunt, but also because my journey was over. All the pain of the day suddenly seemed to flood in. My body and brain had been pushed to their limit, and now it was their turn to take over. I could not help but just let it all out. No joke, I cried for at least 10 minuets straight. Embarrassing right? Well at that point, I did not care. I was just more amazed I had enough water in me to make tears lol. I looked like a hurting unit to say the least... As I was sitting there in a pile of my own tears, I remember feeling like I had just had my heart broken. It was like the last year of my life I dedicated to this one thing, and there I was, all done with it now. It was just like a break up :-( When I crossed that line, Ironman and I went our separate ways. And I think that hurt the most. I knew I was going to miss her to say the least.

 Once I collected myself, I felt pretty OK. I actually really just felt like I wanted a beer haha. My mom and Steve collected my bike and gear. We walked back to the car and packed up. And I had that beer I wanted while waiting. (My mom had some on ice in the car.) What a great mom she is. Great post-race recovery drink. And great way to end my day. Now off to the hotel for a sleepless night :-)

POST-IRONMAN: So here I am. At the end of my Ironman Journey. Finished in more ways than one. I slayed my dragon and lived to tell about it... It took a few days of reflection, but now that it's all over and done with; When people ask "Will you do it again?" I can confidently say "YES." The year of training was draining. Physically, mentally, and even more so financially. But it was all worth it :-) I am now part of something that so few people are. It's like a special little club, with select members. And those members just so happen to be pretty f'ing fit ;-) And instead of a handshake, we have a tattoo :-)  I'd say if you want a challenge, but still want a normal life. Train and run your first Marathon. But if you're looking for an adventure that will test you both physically and mentally to all known limits. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR. SIGN UP FOR AN IRONMAN ALREADY :-) In some ways, I am glad my race turned out to be so hard. Had I had an easier time out there. I don't think I would have found out what my body truly can do. It made the victory more sweet :-)

 In a lot of ways, Ironman is a metaphor for life. You get out of it what you put in. It's a challenge everyday and you have to work at it. If you let your fears hold you back, the possible seems impossible. And the more you love it, the easier it seems :-)
This adventure is over, Yes. But I'm already looking for the next. I know there are still many beasts to slay. And many more mountains to climb. But I am up for the challenge. I am ready for whatever comes next.

 I could not have done this without my friends and family. You all supported me in so many ways along the way. I am forever in your debt. I have so many people to thank, it would take up another whole blog. But you all know who you are. And you all know the love I have for you. But there is one person who I will mention in this blog, since above all, she is the one who supports me the most. And that's my Mum. She is the definition of what a mother should be. Loving, supporting, and makes great Banana Bread :-) I am so happy you were there with me right to the end. I love you so much.

 "The greatest obstacle for most of us is ourselves. What keeps us small, is our fears. If you can overcome those fears, the impossible becomes possible. So take a journey to the limits of possibility and become your own hero. Magical things happen when you follow your quest. Slay your dragon and conquer your fears."
 - Jesse James Brown - Ironman

The End... For now ;-)

Now part of the Ironman Club