How Hot is HOT?

This is a really long post, but it's Michael's story. I thought it needed to be included...

I had searched for an early and a late season half iron distance event to help me prepare for the Florida IRONMAN this year. I selected Macon, Georgia’s Coliseum Rock ‘N

Rollman for several reasons. It was within driving distance, it was on a Saturday and it was in May, before the summer heat sets in. Well, that’s what I thought anyway. This event is five years old so they have most of the kinks worked out. The main site was at Lake Tobesofkee, which was very scenic except for the debris and uprooted trees from their Mother’s Day tornados. I checked the weather projections for race day several times and found that the projected high of the day would be 92 degrees. I haven’t even seen 92 degrees this year so training for it was certainly out. Being the heavy sweater that I am, I knew that a couple days of hydration were necessary. I took care of that so well that I had to make more pit stops on our trip to Georgia than my 8 month pregnant daughter, Mary Beth.

I have already endured through a half ironman that began with a disastrous swim, so I determined to take the 1.2 mile swim at my casual pace and swing wide to avoid the contact that was certain with the line along the buoys. This worked out great for me and I was able to avoid contact for most of the swim. I repeated over and over as I swam. “Relax, relax, steady strokes, relax”. With about 200 yards to go I knew that my plan had worked well and decided to pick up the pace. After a few yards of this the guys next to me smacked me in the head completely knocking my goggles off my eyes. I treaded water for a few seconds while I put them back on. With the new side kick required to keep me up I developed a cramp in my left calf. This was almost humorous to me since I’ve been battling cramps and tension in my right calf since last Thanksgiving. I finished the swim without my usual 100 yards of accelerated kicking which I normally do to get my legs ready for a run to transition. I estimate that the transition sat about 60 to 80 feet above the lake level. This made for a tough wake up run.

The first mile of the bike had about a 100 foot climb so did the second one. The bike course was continuously rolling up and down so I couldn’t point out any one hill. My preparation for this hilly course had me leave behind my new FELT tri-bike and fall back to my experienced road bike. I was grateful for that small chain ring on several of the long climbs. With bottle exchanges at 15, 30 and 45 miles I drank all the Gatorade that I could to replace all that I was sweating out. I attempted my first POTB but that was ruined by a startling yell from an approaching biker. I invested 2 minutes in a port-a pottie break at about 40 miles. I ran completely out of water with about 5 miles to go on the bike. I could feel the dryness of my throat and lips. Not a good thing to have happen when it’s 90+ degrees out and you’re about to start a half marathon.

The first quarter mile was like running with concrete blocks tied on my shoes. I hadn’t even run 200 yards when there was a water table with ice cold water and Gatorade and I knew I couldn’t (or shouldn’t) pass this up. So, I stopped right then and gulped down two full cups. Off again, only to pause 200 yards later for a kiss from my wife, high fives from the grandkids, “Woo-Woo” from the girls and “Go Big Daddy” from the boys! Jackie and Hunter (my 8 year old grandson) ran with me a little ways since I was now moving at a blistering pace. All of this support and encouragement motivated me to make it all the way to the 1^st mile aid station where I gladly rested long enough to grab three or four cups of drink along with pretzels and oranges. This was the plan to walk through each one of the stops and take in all the fluid that my stomach could tolerate. There was absolutely no shade on the course and it was definitely over 90 degrees. It was Hot, Dang Hot!! Never did I see a runner pass one of the water stops. By the second stop I had picked up one of the ice cold towels to put it over my head. At first you would see these towels discarded on the road. But, within a few miles we began to see just how valuable these towels really were. Very few runners crossed the finish line without a little blue towel either around their neck or on their head. The course had several out and back areas so that you could see the other runners and never have I seen so many towel-draped heads hanging down where the athlete had succumbed to walking. I continually hoped and prayed that my hydration efforts would be sufficient to get me across the finish line without cramping up. I abandoned early my aid station-only walks and even wrestled with myself to continue running for even two and three minutes straight. After mile twelve we enjoyed a half mile down grade only to face one more quarter mile climb just to make sure we didn’t leave any thing out there on the course except about four gallons of sweat. I did run, without cramps, across the finish line with three of my grandsons. Afterwards, however, was a different story.

My grandsons were there not only there to cheer for me but also to cheer me up. Four year-old Hagin welcomed me in the finish chute, after waiting 6 hours and 44 minutes, with “Bigdaddy, you were the last one”. Seven year-old Peyton observed that my finishing pace was “almost running”. Jackie had a hard time responding to 8 year old Hunter’s question “Why does Bigdaddy keep doing these when he never wins?” Despite the heat, I enjoyed a few firsts this weekend. I ran my first half marathon with the temperature over 90 degrees, and that was at the start. I ran with sunglasses on for the first race ever. I ran with a wet rag on my head or around my neck for all but the first mile. I enjoyed support from twelve members of the “Team Whetstone” crew. I am as sore today as I have been after any other event but I’m grateful that I was prepared enough and was blessed with sufficient encouragement to complete this “HOT” event.

Dear Team Whetstone

I am not a good enough writer to convey the emotions that I experience in an event like this much less the expression of my gratitude for your supportive ways. I was in awe, as I am sure many around you were, by the numbers of our family that were there to support me this weekend. Like the two thousand stripling you were obviously taught well by your mother. You waited through such a hot and nasty day to be there for me. I can only imagine how exciting the interim time is at a triathlon or marathon. Mom told me of some of the comments made by the folks around you. “Who are ya‘ll here for? What neat shirts. How cute, Team Whetstone. That’s so neat, the Iron-crew.” I know that there are few competitors that would be jealous of my abilities but I’m sure that all are envious of my supportive family. Nobody gets “woo-woos” like I do. I have thought a lot about the time that you sacrifice to sit around for hours on end to see me for a minute or two in the race. Five percent of those who started the race on Saturday were unable to finish it. I know the feelings that they wrestled with before they made that decision to pack it in. I had them myself!. But, I was strengthened with the knowledge that my crew was up the road somewhere waiting on me, praying for me, knowing that I would not let them see me give up. Maybe one day my body will not allow me to continue these events but I hope that our family will always be there to be supportive of each other in whatever we do. We are “a peculiar people” and it shows. You are such great examples for the world to see. I hope that each of my children and grandchildren learn from me that you can accomplish anything that you set your mind to. I often thank my training partners for their help, but maybe I need to be more grateful for the real partners in my success. Heavenly Father said to me, through our patriarch, that I have been “blessed with a wonderful wife and family, the greatest gifts that a man could hope for.” I do recognize this. As Forrest Gump explains to Jenny the beauty of the world that he experienced as he ran from coast to coast of this great land, she says” I wish that I had been there”. To which he replies “You were!” That’s how I feel sometimes as I enjoy or suffer though various aspects of my competitive adventures. I love you all and hope you continue to enjoy OUR JOURNEY.

Love,

Dad