Ironman Florida
November 4th, 2006
Drew Hartman
So this was the last big race of the year and with that comes that last recap of the year (please hold your applause until the end of the presentation). It’s been quite the year in terms of life, triathlon, and family, all in a very positive direction. Kater and I committed ourselves to each other for the long haul so we’ll be getting married in the spring of 2007. We’re both so excited about it and the families have been doing back-flips. Perhaps we’ll have little cupcakes in the shape of M-Dots for the party!!! My brother committed to this race and as I’ll get into later, his story turned out with a very happy ending. He’s a very proud man and if you could have seen the gleam in his eyes for the days after his finish you would get an idea of just how special that line really is. Everyone toes the line for their own reasons. Perhaps its bragging rights to the guys at home who thought he would never do it. Perhaps it’s the demons in her head that say “Don’t do it, you’re just a soft girl”, but she proves them wrong and keeps on push’n on. Maybe it’s just one item on his to-do scroll before the candle burns out and he moves on to the next phase of his journey. Whatever the case, its justifiable enough to commit the time, energy, money, pain, and sacrifice to get here. There are times when you’re out on the road and you start to question your sanity. Man, the lawn looks like shit, I still need to get that last room finished in the house, my doogy needs some due playtime, I want to hit at least one Saturday morning Farmer’s Market this summer. The guilt can really suck you insane if you let it and you end up thinking of a thousand things you’d rather be doing than moving your endurance level up one tiny notch for such a long commitment. But then I sit back and remind myself of a few things. This is supposed to be a fun, challenging, and stimulating commitment. If it ain’t fun then ya ain’t do’n it right!!! Almost every time I get out the door I tell myself, “No one ever said it was going to be easy” and “Don’t HOPE you’ll be ready…get yourself ready!” You commit to a goal and you do what you gotta do with balance to get there. Rather than wishing the finish line comes to you, you go to it, and it takes that small endurance notch to get to the next small notch so you just suck it up. Like good ‘ole Al T. says in the 2004 Kona NBC broadcast, “You do what you can, to not get kicked in the face, to prepare for the 138.2 miles that come after this [the swim]. You do what you can…and then you’ll still need a lot more.”
I had a pretty interesting season this year and after my first race the theme was “blood and road rash”. Not for me personally (mongo knock on wood), but for a lot of people around me. It started with helping a fallen athlete who lost and regained her pinky finger within a 24-hour period. What a bloody mess, but I’m happy to report she’s back to doing triathlons with a new found respect for how fragile we all are. Not long after, I was out for a ride with a couple buddies when some dogs came out on us and caused one to crash (more blood and road rash). That was around 40-miles of our 100 mile ride and Mr. Nigel “Danger” Powers toughed it out and finished his ride. Tough mutha! Then it just seemed like I would hear this or that about people I know getting hurt, the first being Mr. Tuma who cracked a collarbone. Then Kona bound Sweet did a number on his collarbone with only a few miles left in an all-weekend event we did in Ohio. The tough rocket got himself back to health (with the help of his Ironwife, I’m sure) within two months to not only finish Ironman Lake Placid, but also to only miss a qualifying slot by a few minutes. Dr. Killian continued this chaos with yet another broken collarbone and a concussion with only a month out from his big race at Ironman Wisconsin. All the hearts in our Ironman family sank. It was too close for him to be healed in time and we couldn’t help but shed a tear for our Heart Man. Fortunately, there will always be other races (as long as you sign up within 10-mins after registration opens) and Dennis is back on the starting list for Ironman Wisconsin 2007. Let us just hope 2007 doesn’t bring the scar tissue for everyone it did in 2006! Anyone who is physically able to toe the starting line should feel very, very lucky they got to that point. The odds of something going wrong during that eight to twelve month time span is always high.
So this is my seventh Ironman race and fourth Ironman visit to Panama City Beach. Three times to race this thing and once as a spectator with Kate when Tricia came here to do her first Ironman in 2004. After the second visit I really never thought I’d come back here to race. It’s a tough time of the year to finish up your training in the dark and cold, and most people have moved on to other things; however, my brother decided to give it a go and my family was excited to make the trip again and volunteer. I thought, “Perfect!!” I had a terrific experience here last time when they all came down, I can “assist” my brother with his training (“coach” is such an overused term these days), and it can only build more time into these Ironman legs of mine. I was pumped for my brother and very motivated after Lake Placid to do well down here. In fact, I recovered fairly quickly after LP, both physically and mentally, so I was able to jump right back on the horse and pump Van Halen’s “Panama” in my head for these next 3-months. My goal has always been to keep cutting away at that overall rank and continue to learn more about this sport. I do that, no matter what the times are, and I can possibly set myself up for a chance to the Big Island. And I have to say, now that I’ve been there to witness the big dance in Kona; I’m extremely inspired to get back there with a bib number.
My Brother, the Ironman
My brother, Flip, has a bit of an anxiety situation before most big races. Half Ironman races can get him pretty wound up and last time we were in Panama 3-years ago it went catastrophic the morning of the race. He ended up one of the fittest volunteers that day because the anxiety won and it kept him from toeing the starting line. I never really understood it until this time around, witnessing first-hand just how powerful the anxiety attacks can be both physically and mentally. Take your biggest fear and think about it long and hard, and let it drive you crazy. Now try to train yourself to be ready for that fear and see how you feel the morning you attempt to overcome it. Not easy by any stretch, especially if you haven’t completely identified it. If you’ve ever been with a friend who’s afraid of heights, tight spaces, clowns, whatever, you’ll know that these anxieties are real and not just a case of being a wimp.
If you knew this guy like I do, you would shake your head about this anxiety because of the other things he does in his life. Apart from his real job, being president of a successful plastics company up in Wisconsin, Flip likes to jump into burning buildings and save people’s lives. He’s a volunteer fire-fighter and he’s a leader in that space as well. He’s been involved in countless rescue situations and doesn’t blink an eye at the things he has to do to keep people safe; a very selfless gentleman. This guy shows no fear in these situations and it’s been that way since childhood. He’s always been a “Do’r”, a hard/smart worker, and a very good father. So you ask yourself, “Why then is the Ironman thing any different? Why doesn’t this fearless trait apply here as well?” It all goes back to anxiety or phobia, which is physically no different than a Girl Scout kicking the strongest man square in a nads. He will go down. Now it’s just figuring out how to get it under control before race day.
Countdown T-Minus 2-Days, A Test in Mental Gymnastics
Damn, the last few days before an Ironman is a true test in one’s patience and ability to stay mentally sharp. You’ve got Type-A personalities all around you freaking out about this or that and over-exercising their taper just to keep from going insane. You deal with long lines to get your packet information, back in line for the pasta meals, the merchandise tents, grocery stores, the morning swims, parking, restaurants, blah blah blah. It’s always about long lines and waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting. My body is carrying extra fluid at this point, so it’s back in line for the bathrooms. I try to stay away from the crowds as much as possible for these very reasons, but since we’re all bound by the same rules, the lines are inevitable. Under normal physical circumstances this is probably a fairly easy test, but when your body has been resting/recovering for the last three weeks you get incredibly antsy. Those who can overcome the curveballs thrown these last few days will likely have a great race. It’s a little overwhelming to think that you can put a year of training into an event and let the quality of that event be decided in the last couple of days. Identify the importance of those days and you’re on your way to a happy race. I don’t just play a doctor on TV, I drink beers with them too! J (Huh?)
Countdown T-Minus 1-Day, Hartmans ready for ignition
The night before, Flip and Beth decided to hang with our parents and have a little heart-to-heart about his situation while Kate and I headed to the pasta dinner. Packet pickup was now done so we figured Flipper could not race. However, while we were at the pasta meal we ran into one of the ISU students who were going to race. He was actually the youngest competitor at this race so they got him up on stage and see why the heck any kid his age would volunteer himself to go 140.6 miles rather than 140.6 ounces! His flight got in late so we found out there was still late packet pickup from 9 to 11am on Friday. Kate and I both looked at each other and thought, “We gotta get back and talk to Flipper!” Kate decided she needed to put in her 2-cents (or sense).
While Flip and Beth were with our parents, Mom apparently recognized that Flip is his mother’s son and Mom happens to deal with a lot of the same anxieties. I didn’t know that either. The things you learn about your family at an Ironman! They figured something out and Kate had her long discussion with Flip. What I found Friday morning was a brother with a full night’s sleep and an interest in heading down to the Gulf for a little swim. I didn’t show a lot of excitement on the outside, but on the inside I was jumping on the bed. With the last two nights being a bit uneasy, to say the least, my bro was extremely relaxed and had all of us very excited because he was excited. That afternoon we checked in our bikes and still…a very relaxed brother. Heck, he was so relaxed that I started to gather all my baggage and I was getting nervous. Needless to say, we were both now very ready to bring it on.
Race Morning, 2-hrs of sleep and smiling
I went to bed the night before around 10pm and woke up around 11:45p for no good reason other than being a little pumped to race. I was relaxed, but for some reason very awake only after a couple hours sleep. I seemed to be OK with that for some reason. I guess I was just that relaxed so I did a couple hours of imagery in my head, going through the swim, then on to the bike and so on. I was excited for the day and I got plenty of sleep the days leading up, which isn’t always the case. I took it as a good sign.
It was cold this morning, almost freezing temperatures and the winds were already kicking in at 4:30am. Kater and Keith drove Tricia, Flip, and I down to the transition area to drop off our bottles and get the bikes prepped. We got there early, but the crowds were getting thick. We were only there about 20mins and it was a madhouse when we made our way back to Kate and Keith. They drove us back so we could have an hour of downtime. I used that time to get my game-face snuggly attached and talk my legs into thinking I was only going out for a little ride today. They’ve been good to me this year, but sometimes I have to BS them a bit if I want some added fun. J
Flip and I make our way down to the beach and we find our Dad who gets a good picture of us before the start. I would then find Mom. She wished me luck and I got that great motherly kiss I never pass up. I never see Mom enough so I take it when I can get it.
Flipper and I just before the start
I wish Flipper good luck and he goes to claim his own 1x1’ chunk of beach before the cannon. I run into Nigel who’s getting himself ready and we give each other a good tri-shark hug. I have a feeling he’s going to have a good race. Other locals here today are IronTricia, that crazy Donahue guy, Tamara, Doug Rosen-Rosen, and Jimmy Mac along with his other Tri-Peoria gang. All ready to do battle today --- Lets get this thing going!!!
And the cannon makes a BOOM!
I know this swim and I knew it was going to be a challenging one with the crowds and the swells. I also knew the more I could stay in BIG packs the more all of us could plow those swells. Suckers were challenging today! When we hit the first corner buoy we were going right into the swells. There were times we would ride up those stinkers and dang near get airborne. It made for an interesting swim and I was fairly comfortable considering. When I came out of the first loop I saw Mom and Dad and I think I could hear Tater and Keith (still a blur) so I gave them a hoot and got back in. I had a feeling the 2nd loop was going to be a touch slower, mainly because I didn’t have the big packs to draft with. No problem. Things were spread out, but overall the swim went pretty well. I’m a happy tater and happy to see those wetsuit strippers. Off to get “Red Jet” and hit the road!
The chaos of an Ironman swim. Buoys apparently optional!
112-Miles of Big-Ring-Bling!!!
Yeah baby! This course was built for speed and I was ready to get it going. I basically trained all Spring, Summer, and Fall for this last ride and the legs felt great. The winds were really kicking in and as you rode the first 7-mile section along the gulf coast you got all kinds of crosswinds from the high-rises along the road. Once we got headed north it was a “grit your teeth and hammer” for the next 50+ miles. I could see the packs of bikers forming already and was hoping the Marshals were going to be in full force. No chance! It was ridiculous how bad these guys were drafting and blatantly cheating! I was very angry to say the least. Several times I would pass 20+ bikers all a foot apart and just shake my head at them. They knew I was shaking too. I had that big aero helmet on so when the head shakes it looks like a big tail wagging.
Fueling up for the big ride
About 40-miles into the ride I come up to a lady who’s hammering and looking like a machine. As I pass her I look over and say, “Chica, you ARE A MACHINE!” I meant it too. She just looked over and gave me a smile. Right after I passed her I dropped down into the little ring for the one of three small inclines we had to do. Right then my cranks locked up. Ummm…uh oh!!!! Without forcing anything I moved them forward then back and it kept getting stuck? What is up??? I thought I bent my rear derailleur somehow. It was scary, “call it a day”, kind of stuff and I finally had to hop off to see what was up. Somehow one of the links in my chain got hooked on both the big and small ring at the same time. First time I’ve experienced that. I dislodged the chain and when I got going the bike seemed to be OK so I shifted with caution and got back into it. The Chica Machine Express then goes by along with the 20-biker pack. Once again, my blood is boiling with these guys and I finally loose my temper. As I pass these guys I scream, “Hey, how about you guys back off and eat your own wind for a change???? How about you earn that friggin metal???” I said more than that, but I was so frustrated that I can’t remember all I said. I passed those guys so mad I must have been doing 30-mph into the wind. It didn’t take long though before I got myself back together and got back into a rhythm. I can’t stand drafters!!!
I finally hit the upper North corner of the route and got some relief from the wind. I took this as an opportunity to take it easy for a couple miles and re-energize the system. A LOT of guys from that pack and others passed me and I kept a good smile and thought, “See you a few miles…ya fricken cheaters!!!” I got myself back into a good crank and started pulling all of those guys back. I also started to think about Kater and gang waiting for me in their Globetrotter threads at mile 100. I really looked forward to that and it got me counting the miles down, five at a time.
Around mile-90 I see something in the middle of the road that looks really odd and somewhat shiny. As I go by I had to do a double-take. A 12-inch (at least) butcher knife lying in the road. I do the big point behind in hopes no one hits it. As I came up to a spectator she’s clapping for me and I tell her, “Hey, there’s a really big knife in the road back there!” She says, “Hey good job…what? Seriously???” Hopefully she walked back to pick it up, and that topped the list for the oddest things I’ve ever seen on the road during a ride. I never would have thought I’d see something like that during a race.
I’m finally coming up to mile-100 to see Kater and the Globetrotters. I round the corner and see them just before you head up the bridge. I’m pumped to see them, but they were gone in a blink of an eye. It was no different than being a spectator. You wait all day to see your friends, they go by, now you wait again.
Me and RedJet at Mile 100
As I
finish up the ride and I’m feeling pretty good, but I would have liked it if
the bladder was little more active. I hadn’t pee’d since I pre-warmed my
wetsuit just before the swim. The stomach seemed OK, but I’m always sensitive
about the hydration part. I got through the transition area, got stretched out
and hit the porto-john. Yeah, I’m a bit dehydrated so I’ll just get another bottle
of InfinIT (not a shameless plug, just love the stuff) in me and that should
help.
Oh the joys of running (surviving) 26.2 miles.
I had a fairly solid swim and bike so if I could put this dang running thing together I could have a shot at a Kona slot. Seriously!!! It was actually on my mind this time, but it was going to require the run I know I’m capable of running at this point. When I got into the run I felt like my typical sloth self so it took a few miles to find my rhythm. I had the mile-3 aid-station to look forward too because my Mom and Dad were volunteering there. They were so excited to get over there and help out. When I got to them I was still finding my legs so it was hard to give those guys the major jumps for joy I was hoping to give them. Dad gives me a big thumbs-up and I press on.
Still chuggin along
I finally start to get a pace going and when I hit the turn-around (6.55 miles) the watch reads something like 53-mins. About 10-mins later or less I see Mikey Donahue and can see he’s on a mission to light up the course. He looked like what I was trying to find, but no luck. I had to keep marching along. I wasn’t having the bonk issues I was having in Lake Placid, I just wasn’t running all that fast. Coke ended up being my drug of choice and I stuck with that. Better running through chemistry!!!
Mile-10 coming back is Mom/Dad’s aid station again. I can see Dad on the phone and when he sees me he reports that Flip is off the bike. I’m totally stoked about it because I know it’s all about desire for him at this point. He’s going to make it! I let Pops know that I’m doing OK, but not in that jump-for-joy mood. I see Mom and she’s doing great. At this point I’ve now seen everyone except Doug, but we was out there, just didn’t see him. Donahue and Nigel are flying, Tricia’s is moving along very well as is Tamara and everyone else. With about a mile to go in the first loop I see Flipper and he’s totally in a good mood. We exchange slaps and I’m off to finish the 1st loop.
1-Lap Left, What you got, Hartman?
Yes, one lap to go! Another 13.1-miles of fun and we can celebrate. I’m still feeling good at this point, but can’t pick up the pace to save my life. I’d stop at the aid-stations to grab a quick Coke then head off, spending maybe 30-seconds. I’d look at the watch and each mile was something like 9:30s or worse. I just didn’t have it in me to go any faster. Crap! I’d see KDog and Kater along with the Globetrotter boys and gave them a thumbs-up report. I just needed to keep the march going. Oonce again I saw that Donahue guy and he looked faster than the first lap. I figured if he caught me then I would try to run with him (legs willing) because I could chit-chat with Mikey whereas I wasn’t in the mood to talk with anyone else. I never did see Mike, but he was only a few minutes back.
With a few miles left I pretty much saw everyone again so I know they’re all going to make it. I’m not stopping at the aid-stations at this point, just trying to push it home. My parents left the aid station so I knew they were trying to get down to the finish and I found my Brother with a mile left. He was now on his 2nd lap and I could see on his face that he was experiencing why this race is so special. Being, it’s “THE HARD” that makes it worth it. With the last mile the crowds have thickened up nicely into a fine spectator gravy…yum! I’m pushing as hard as I can with loud, obnoxious, heavy breathing. The loop is coming around and I see KDog. He’s yelling at me to push home so I’m flying. I get across the line and couldn’t be any happier!
What a great day!
My race is done, but I’m feeling my typical dehydrated self. I need the med tent so they get me over there and get me on a bed and start a drip. It was only a 2-bag session this time so nothing to brag about and not too much blood on the race clothes. Bummer ! J One nice advantage about this trip to the med tent was my sister was assisting there as an EMT. She was able to relay to Kate how I was doing, which was fine, but it’s always such a continued waiting game as a spectator. Even when we’re done family has to continue to wait because we need medical assistance. It’s mentally exhausting as a supporter.
IronKater (and her assistant, Kona Dog) was there for me all day
I finally got out of there and found my way to Kate. We then made it back to the finish line to start finding everyone else. We eventually found Mom and Dad so now my role as athlete is switched over to role of spectator. Let the anxious waiting game continue as we try to estimate when Flipper might cross the line. When I saw him near my finish I thought I could estimate, but it’s nearly impossible because so much can happen during that last half-marathon. Time passed and we had a great time, talking with everyone and watching all the Ironman athletes finish their journey. Finally we see my brother and he’s totally excited and pumped to be home. I’m borderline in tears when I see him. This was a long road for both of us, which started 3-years ago. It was unfinished business that needed to be rectified. He trusted me and let me take him under my wing despite the fact that he’s the older brother. He did everything I asked him to do with training and when it came down to the finish line, he earned his title like the true gentleman he is.
A couple proud Hartman boys.
This race held a lot of special feelings or me. I was able to witness my only brother accomplish his goal, which was very special, and I don’t know if he’ll know just how proud I am of him. I crossed the line with the support of my family and friends,
i
The Hartman Family, now with 8-Ironman Titles
including the love of my life, which was not only special, but also very lucky. I’ve always considered myself a very lucky person in terms of family and friends. It’s not like we were given a choice at birth what country and what family we get to grow old with. We’re all born into the lottery system and when you throw in the “born healthy” factor the odds are even less. You know what I’m saying, it’s just lucky. From an athletic standpoint, I know there’s more juice in this system to do better. I experienced Kona a few weeks earlier as a spectator and realized just how special the big Island is. DAMN…I want to get there. I will.
Train Smart,
Drew.
Good night!