Why do I make this comment?
Location, motivation, atmosphere, people.
If you are unfamiliar with what an Ironman competition consists of, here you go; it is a swim of 2.4 miles, 112 mile bike, and a marathon (26.2 miles)! Are you kidding me?! How many of you have actually run 10 miles straight? I know I sure haven’t.
The Kona Ironman, also known as the world championships, puts the best of the best to the test (great rhymes DJ Kraig). If by some chance a person wins the lottery, they are thrown in the recreational division, but for everyone else, they must qualify at another Ironman. I know what you are thinking, and no, these people are not unemployed and single. The majority, from what was visible at the aid station, were seemingly normal, family going individuals. But, what eventually sets them apart from everyone else...mental toughness and pain management.
Great tangent and subtext Kraig, where do you fit in?
A co-worker of mine, ET, put volunteering at the World Championships on our radar from the moment we stepped foot on O’ahu. After a few phone calls, conversations with a volunteer coordinator, and last second logistic planning, four of my co-workers and myself set our course for Hawai’I, the big island. We woke up at a reasonable hour to get ready for the big day, eat breakfast, and take off for the aid station; I personally woke up at 6am due to the sound of crashing waves just outside our ocean front rental property. Hey, don’t judge, sleep is sleep. By the time we arrived at the aid station for mile marker #1 (of the marathon) it was 11am, and after debriefs and set up, we were all set to greet the runners.
To put even more context to this event, the professionals are given a 30 minute start, putting them in the water around 6:30am, followed by the professional women, and then the age qualifiers. With our positioning and timing, the pros were to be showing up any second.
In order to maximize my talents, I thought the lead director was going to place me at the high priority location, something like sponges, ice, water, you name it. But, as a way of staying out of the spotlight, I dodged these spots (way to put the point of volunteering to the test), and headed for the shadows. Yep, spot on…I was the ‘Cola’ man.
Buzzer! Helicopter! Scooter! Police car!
With the leaders closing in on our aid station, the entire group of 25+ volunteers scrambled to their position. After kicking a 3 year old, cursing at his parents for not putting him on a leash, making fun of the porn star volunteer next to me (was that his wife?), I put myself in the Warrior Two position (yoga), closed my eyes, and reached out my cup of cola.
Blink.
The leader was gone.
The guy, on some type of accelerant, went through the aid station quicker than it takes someone to pronounce the state fish of Hawaii…Humumunukunukuapua
Dejected that Coke was not the first choice of the leader, I picked myself up by poking a couple of jibes at my neighbor actor’s fruit display, and waited…and waited…
Buzzer! Helicopter! Scooter! Police car!
5 minutes later, we were at it again, and nothing was going to sop me this time; I was going to do anything to ensure coke was the number one target. Okay, here he comes. Dang, he is cruising.
“COKE!!!!!” I screamed. “COKE!!!!!!” I screamed reaching out my hand with the cup and when he snatched it out of my grasp, my mission was complete; the #2 guy digs coke. But, #3, provided feedback for my buddy ET.
ET, next to me, and in charge of the ice cups, offered it up to numero tres, I think he was European. Anyways, the runner grabbed it, went for a drink, but to no avail, not even get a drop of water. Sure enough, HE SPIKED IT ON THE GROUND! And even worse, he yelled profanities. “Put some Bleepin’ stuff in these cups!” If you ask me, he isn’t going to win a race with THAT attitude.
The next 4 hours were a blur of sponges, ice, garbage duty, coke, smile, Perform! (energy drink), and, of course, a plethora of “Good Jobs, Keep it going!” One particular time while on garbage detail, I mistakenly stopped by the port-a-potty to pick up a sponge….pause for gag…to hear a guy screaming at me. “Hey Mate, hey, hey. Unzip me. Grab the zipper, unzip me.” Taken aback by the boldness of the comment for a split second, I put on my Ironman face and unzipped that gentleman’s…………………………back of his outfit. This volunteer is comfortable with his sexuality.
Aside from the comics above, and to focus on the meaning of ironman, the event’s purpose focuses on individuality with ‘overcoming adversity’ as a close second. From seasoned veterans in their 70’s to a freshmen in college, wives, husbands, veterans, disabled, both the cumulative and individual respect that I have for these people is unfathomable.
After taking a break from volunteering, running to the airport to pick up friend of mine, and cleaning up, we walked back down to the heart of Kailua Kona to see some of the racers and be close to the finish line. Getting closer to the restaurant we picked out, a noticeable individual came into view. Legs amputated from knees down and missing his left arm, one could imagine why this man would stand out. To be perfectly honest, I did not notice him for his unfortunate physical barriers; this guy wore an ear to ear smile that I will never forget.
On that note, on overcoming barriers, and that image, I am bringing this blog post to a close.
Pictures are becoming a recurring theme so below is another photo slideshow of the Ironman portion of our trip to the big island.
I feel like I should say something inspirational right now, but those words tend to escape me; instead, as I find myself unable to sleep at midnight thirty in Chicago, a man to whom I respect dearly always told us every Saturday following a game, “Gentlemen, tell your parents you love them,” so with that in mind, “Parents, I love you.”
Friends…Diddo!
Kraig, I love you!
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