Volunteering at Ironman St. George

Overall, this was an awesome day and I’m really glad I did it.  That being said, it was one of the most emotionally exhausting things I’ve done in a really long time.  I get choked up sometimes just watching Ironman videos on Youtube; being there for the whole day, and especially a race day as challenging as this one, was incredibly intense.  

So calm and peaceful...

I had driven down the night before and arrived at the state park where the swim start was at 10 PM.  I had a volunteer parking pass so they let me in for free and I slept in the back of my car (yay Subarus!). I woke up at 4 AM, walked 20 yards to T1 and waited for the bus loads of athletes to arrive so I could start body marking.  This was a great volunteer position, you not only get to talk to the athletes, you also get to ask them how old they are, and then have them show you their calves and biceps.  Not a bad way to start the day.  The water was perfectly calm for the first 5 or 10 minutes of the age group swim (the pros had started 15 minutes earlier so they had more calm water).  However, the sunrise brought strong winds with it and soon the athletes were battling white-capped waves for the longest side of the swim course.   

The splashes in the middle are people, hard to tell though.

Longest part = Against the Wind (cue Bob Seger)

Soon they started bringing athletes in by the boatload.  I’m not sure how many of them asked to come in and how many were forced to stop because they weren’t going to make the 2:20 time cutoff; I heard stories of both talking to athletes later.  Since so many people didn’t finish the swim, the race organizers made an exception and allowed them to continue as unofficial finishers.  Even though those athletes didn’t experience the entire hell that was the swim, I still have a huge amount of  admiration for them.  They willingly put themselves through 138.2 more ridiculously challenging miles, knowing that there was already a DNF next to their name, and they would be forced to explain “well yes I finished an Ironman, but not really” every time someone asked them about it.  They put in the months of training and the most of the hours out on that course, but they won’t be able to wear a finisher’s t-shirt or proudly display a medal from what many called the hardest Ironman ever.

At least I was just watching the swim from a distance; I wasn’t as emotionally involved in the stories of the athletes getting pulled from the water.  It was hard watching the spectators around me who were clearly worried about their friends and family members still in the water, but I was still removed from it.  My next volunteer position was the women’s T2 change tent.  We helped the women with whatever they needed as they got off their bikes, grabbed their gear bags and headed out to run a marathon.  I hadn’t volunteered in this spot before, but listening to the volunteers around me it was clear that there were far fewer women coming through than normal.  Suddenly a lot of athletes started coming through, but they were all walking through the transition area and looking dejected.  After such an exhausting swim, a lot of them weren’t making the time cutoff on the bike course, and were being sent back by the bus load.  The first few athletes were still allowed to run as unofficial finishers, although the race organizers soon stopped saying this.  Most of the athletes that had been disqualified didn’t want our help, or didn’t think they deserved it since they were done.  But we helped them anyway. 

A few of the girls really stuck with me.  One of the women (that I had actually body marked in the morning) did make the bike cutoff but still burst into tears in the change tent.  She hadn’t made the cutoff the year before and was overcome by what she had accomplished so far.  I saw her at the finish line later, crossing hand in hand with her husband – one of several “Ironman couples” finishing the race together that day.  Another woman barely made the 5:30 cutoff to finish the entire bike course.  She was racing as part Team Autism and carried a picture of her autistic son with her the entire race.  She had been pulled out of the swim; she hadn’t wanted to stop but the man in the boat insisted that it was getting dangerous.  She was also overcome by the prospect of finishing her first Ironman and doing so for her son.  She was one of the last few people to cross the finish line, holding the laminated picture high.   
The hardest part of my day was helping a girl that reminded me a lot of myself; her name was also Elizabeth, it was her first Ironman, she was right around my age and had the same bike helmet as me.  She had finished the swim but had missed the 66-mile bike cut off by minutes.  She was from New York state and starting her medical residency in the fall, so this was her last chance to do an Ironman for a while.  It was heartbreaking seeing how disappointed she was in herself.  I didn’t really know what to say; that could happen to me in CdA and there won’t be anything that anyone could say to make me feel like I wasn’t a failure.  We talked about training for a while though and how Ironman makes you feel special in general; she was one of the few allowed to continue running and by the time she headed out she seemed to be feeling better.  Elizabeth, if you happen to stumble across this blog looking for St. George race reports, know that I admire you and think you’re a total badass, hopefully I’ll see you at the finish line of another Ironman someday.     

After a two hour break I headed to the finish line to catch people until midnight.  This was probably the best part of the day.  I got to see the successes of the day, including people I’d body marked or helped in T2.  Most of the athletes seemed pretty dazed as they crossed the finish line.  A couple of the men had to lean on me as I walked them to the food or medical tents.  A lot of the first-time finishers said that it was their last Ironman, but I’d be interested to see what they’re saying now.  There were a lot of little cool moments at the finish line.  Ben Hoffman and Meredith Kessler (the men’s and women’s winners) came down and handed out finishers medals for the last couple of hours.  One of the finishers changed into a tux for the final 100 yards and proposed to his girlfriend right before the finish line (she said yes).  For the last hour Mike Reilly (the announcer for all Ironmen races) was down in the finisher’s chute getting everyone pumped up.  It was a pretty great atmosphere, one I’m excited to be a part of (hopefully!) in 5 weeks. 

Fireman Rob from Madison, WI. He's doing Ironmen across the country this year for the Code 3 for a Cure Foundation.  He did the entire marathon in full fire fighting gear.

Women's winner Meredith Kessler handing out medals at the finish line.