2008 Florida IRONMAN (Michael's Story)

Race morning was a sight to behold. The sun just coming up over the Gulf of Mexico, while 2400 athletes and all their supporters enjoyed the national anthem prior to the beginning of the event. David and I had done a test swim in the Gulf on Friday morning so I knew how cold the water was. It was just about like Lake Murray, around 68 degrees. The water was so clear you could see about 25 feet down and was relatively calm. When the cannon went off at 7am I stayed far to the left side to avoid the heavy contact zone right along the buoys. They had announced that we could stay inside the buoys at all times as long as we went around the two corner buoys. So I zig-zagged my way around the course and only swam in the main stream to get around the corners. I had a few physical contacts, one on each loop that knocked my goggles out of place so I had to stop and tread water to readjust. My only cramp of the swim came as a result of my violent reaction to the one and only “body slam” of the day. When I crossed the mat after the swim, I accidentally hit stop on my watch instead of lap. My ultimate goal was to break 13 hours so that wiped away the opportunity to keep track of my cumulative time throughout the day.

Evidently my swim time was a very popular time because the changing tent must have been occupied by 200 wet guys trying to change into dry clothes. Have you ever tried to put on dry clothes while standing in a wading pool? I made a potty break and got slathered with sunscreen then scuffed my way to the bike mount. I felt like the worst wind of the day was at the beginning of the ride. Others said they thought the wind was worse at the end. However, the wind was not as bad as it was in 2006. After 30 minutes on the bike I began packing in the food, aiming for 500 calories per hour. I’m pretty sure I met that goal. My first break on the 112 mile bike came at mile 50, where the special needs bags could be accessed. I got off my bike sat right on the edge of the road and pulled off my toe warmers, long sleeved under armor and grabbed a few more delicious powerbars. The extra clothing was necessary for the 48 degree start. I came by Team Whetstone shortly after that and made my first john stop at mile 60. The second stop came at about 90 miles. For the poor biker that I am, I felt that the bike was going great, since I always saw 17, 18, 19 mph on my computer. One of my goals this day was to average 17mph on the bike.

T2 went without a hitch except for the beginning of a foot cramp while taking off my biking shoes. I had done well in packing all my gear with the exception of the one thing I NEVER run over 20 miles without – my two spot band-aids! So, to improvise, I stopped four times on the run to smear on Vaseline. This came as quite a surprise to the little fellow who was volunteering when he saw the places that I was applying all that Vaseline! However, this was necessary to keep me running smoothly. Back in 1987 Don Kardong wrote an article for Runners World while he participated in the Boston Marathon. These were the days before the cell phone so he called in his man-on-the-spot coverage by stopping every mile or so at a pay phone. His article, later became a book, and was entitled “30 Phone Booths to Boston”. I couldn’t help but think about that book as I laid my face up beside the inside wall of probably my eighth porta-john on the run. I had done my hydration homework as well as possible. I had hoped for a 1.5 hour swim, a 6.5 hour bike and a 4.5 hour marathon. With two of those goals already satisfied I knew the real test lie ahead. Several of my 4 to 6 hour workouts or test races have ended with muscle cramps hindering a good finish. So, I never skipped an aid station on the run, these were wisely placed at every mile. This was also a good excuse to walk for a few seconds. Rule #1 No walking without a cup in my hand. I followed that rule for a half marathon. However after 10 hours of going at it that hard your legs insist on going to Rule #1A. Rule #1A was that I had to run at least 5 minutes to earn a 40 second walk break. At all 10 of the bike aid stations I grabbed a 24 oz bottle of Gatorade. At all 25 run aid stations I grabbed at least a cup of water and a cup of Gatorade. After it got dark they started handing out warm chicken broth. It was very salty but it worked well for me in 2006 so I took advantage of it also. So, I consumed at least 4 gallons of liquid throughout the day. I ran the first 6.6 mile leg in 1:06 - right on time! This extra work on the fluids meant that I couldn’t pass a Porta-Jon without a stop either. To avoid a penalty for public nudity I stuck with the johns for several miles. It wasn’t until I caught myself waiting precious seconds for a door to open, that I decided to hit the bushes. Well, it was about to get dark so it wasn’t too hard to hide within10 feet of the course. I think Rule #1B came into play when I got to where I realized that I had to have a bushes break before I got to an aid station. It wasn’t 30 phone booths to Boston and wasn’t even 26 porta-jons to Panama City but it was more like 10 porta-jons, 3 dumpsters, 12 palm trees and 1 large inflated Ironman arch! At the half marathon point, the run special needs bag provided me with my very own vanilla Gu’s on my race belt. I had tried the Gatorade brand version and grossed out a volunteer by spitting it out. This was no time for an upset stomach. I had at few queasy episodes on the bike where my 3^rd (yummy) Powerbar or pack of sodium rich crackers nearly upset my stomach. Then to see guys on the run, by the edge of the road, on their knees heaving didn’t help matters any. It’s now dark and I’m tired. I’ve got about 3 miles to go and I tell myself – “I will not walk”. I don’t really know where I stand on my goal of 13 hours but I do know that I am on pace for a sub 5 hour marathon. Now it’s time for Rule #1C – my legs are now in charge and they will make the rules from here on. With my goals in front of me and all my training under my belt, my family is waiting for me and I can hear the announcer at the finish line but I still can’t make myself run more than a few minutes at a time. It will all be over soon.

You’ll never guess what was offered at the finish line. Yep, all you could eat Gatorade, water, bananas, oranges and Powerbars. It had been over 24 hours since my body had had anything other than these things – I wanted FOOD! Then along came a guy with boxes of pizza – that’s what I’m talking about! Even though David and I never had any plans on connecting, we got to see each other several times. It was good to see a training partner out on the course. Throughout the day, I was lifted by shouts of “go Big Daddy” from Team Whetstone which had surprisingly showed up all over the 140 mile course. This wonderful support team numbered sixteen souls. My wife, all four of my children, their spouses and each of my seven grandchildren sported their new Team Whetstone jerseys even down to little 3 month old Maizeigh. This had to be the best support group on this day. After I had passed them by I thought how much of an unfair advantage this was for me. I had lost track of my 13 hour goal but knew that I was close. As it turned out, I finished with a 13:03, a full hour off of my first attempt at the Ironman. Discouragement can be quite overwhelming when you’re this far gone. It was so hard to continue on the course when you had used up all of your calories as well as your emotional reserves. Twice on the run I allowed my legs to talk me into a 50 yard walk break when I came by my family. Jackie had shared in all the excitement of a six month training program so why not share in the low of the forced walk So, for about 40 seconds I recovered and received a lift as I walked hand in hand with my eternal companion. Then it was off again to get this thing done. The support that my family gave me this day is beyond measure and very difficult for me to put into words. In my 200 plus road races and 16 marathons, including Boston twice, you cross the finish line punch your watch and get a mylar blanket and maybe even a ribbon around your neck, but there is nothing quite like the feeling you get when the announcer says, “Michael Whetstone, you ARE an IRONMAN!”