Ironman Louisville: Proving I am

As I quickly found out at Ironman, everyone is competing to prove something. They are proving to themselves that they can tackle three daunting tasks in one single day. Some are proving to others that they can tackle this monumentous challenge.

I am no exception. There was little doubt in my mind that I could take on the Ironman challenge. I had no idea what my time would be, but I knew I would finish.

To me by finishing Ironman, I was proving something to the only people who said that I couldn't do something.

When I was in college, I tried to enlist into the Marines. They looked at my medical record and said, "We're sorry." I sent a letter and received the same response... not even given the courtesy of a physical.

I was upset to say the least. I wanted to serve and was told no.

I know that everthing happens for a reason and I'm very happy with the direction my life is taking me, but I hate to be told I can't do something.

You may know that the Ironman was started by a Navy SEAL commander, John Collins.

To me, completing the Ironman would prove to those (probably not watching) that I could compete physically with the military elite.

The week leading up to Ironman, I was watching a lot of Muhammed Ali videos. This was stuck in my head race day: "I wrastled with an alligator, I done tussled with a whale. I handcuffed lightning, Throwed thunder in jail. That's bad! Only last week, I murdered a rock, injured a stone, hospitalized a brick. I'm so mean I make medicine sick. Bad. Fast. Fast. Last night I cut the light off in my bedroom, hit the switch, was in bed before the room was dark... I'm gonna show you how great I am!"

The day started bright and early. I woke up at 4:30 AM and Denise and I drove to the transition area. All of the bikes in transition area were lit up under beaming lights. There was a silent intensity. Everyone was preparing their mind for taking on a day of pushing the body to its limits.

We walked 3/4 of a mile to the swim start where my number 992 was marked on my arm and my age was written on my leg.

Since the swim start was a time trial start, I had to walk another half mile to the back of the line. I waited for the start. Some people were quiet, just focusing their minds. Others were telling jokes, trying to keep their minds free. Others still were talking about Ironman competitions they had completed.





The cannon went off, and the pro athletes got their start at 6:50am. The national anthem was sung (although I only heard the end of it from my point at the end of line). Then the line started moving forward. This was happening!

I saw the dock that people were jumping off of into the Ohio river... and then the line stopped. A man was pulled out of the water and they were giving him CPR. He was blue. I'm still praying for his family.

After the man was rushed away on a stretcher, the line continued to move.

I was funneled down to the dock and jumped of the dock into the Ohio. The first 1350 meters were upstream. I couldn't shake the picture of the man I had just seen out of my head. It reminded me of my mortality and how out of control I am of when my last day will be. To add to the mental hurdles I was trying to overcome, my goggles kept fogging up and I couldn't see the buoys. I was being kicked and swum over.

I finally reached the red buoy that signaled the turn around point and my swim down stream instead of upstream. At this point, I was able to re-focus my mind and get going.

When I reached the end of the swim, I was very happy to see my bike... it wasn't hard to find. My swim time was not excellent.

The 112 mile bike portion was relatively easy for me. I was able to reach back on the strength of a day this summer. On day 2 of mine and Nick Busta's ride across America, we got a little turned around. Our day ended up being 145 miles that started at sea level and ended at 8,000 ft. We cycled into 20 degree weather and didn't finish until 1AM.

I thought about how easy this was compared to that... and the fact that I didn't have to do it again the next day! My focus just stayed on keeping my legs cycling at high RPM so I didn't wear them out for the run. I took every single fuling station and even stopped to dive into my special needs pack for a bagel and a red bull. The bike looped twice and we went through an area in Indiana full of spectators cheering at the top of their lungs that added some much needed adrenaline!

The bike course ended and it was time to start the final leg... the marathon. I was somewhat intimidated by the marathon since this was my second marathon ever. My only other marathon was a year and a half ago and I started with fresh legs.

The toughest part about the marathon was that it was a two loop course. On the first 13 mile loop you actually pass by the finish line. Then you head directly away from the finish line knowing that you have another half marathon to run.

When I headed back out to begin the second half marathon, Denise was there. She was cheering at the top of her lungs... cow bell in hand. It made me smile and gave me some much needed energy to "bring it home." I had a strategy going. The fuel stations were 1 mile apart. I ran to each fuel station and would walk through the stations grabbing water and pretzels. There were several times that the quote from Seinfeld would go through my head, "These pretzels are making me thirsty." I felt like telling this to the other runners, but figured the joke would be lost... so I kept it to myself.



Finished in 12:36:14 Time is different
because of time trial start.



I finally saw the finish line and heard the roar of the crowd gathered on 4th Street Live! I had thought about this moment for so long... and it felt as good as I had imagined. I ran through the finish line. My hands were raised above my head. I had done it. I'm an Ironman! My final time for the 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and 26.2 mile run was 12:36:14, only about 45 minutes off of the first Ironman champion back in 1978.

While I proved that with my heart defect I can finish an Ironman, there are still many with more complex heart defects than mine that take on similar challenges on a daily basis. Until every person born with a heart defect can finish an Ironman (if they wanted to) I am not done fighting for them.

My next challenge will make Ironman look like a walk in the park. I'm ready for people to start paying attention to this war... and join the fight!