23 April 2008
April, 2001—-raceday
Posted by iamlast under: Uncategorized.
As I sit, looking into my remembery, I can now see more. This is the short version.
I can see myself driving into the race site, checking on the bike, getting the wet suit on. We will speak later of wetsuits. I can see the walk to swim entry/ exit. I remember the sandbags covering the concrete boat ramp to make it smoother. I remember making sure I was off to one side so I wouldn’t be either in or out of the way. I remember the real cannon’s they used to start the race. It was on the Marine Corps Base, Camp Pendleton, CA. The marines have real cannons. In 2000 they used the real big cannons. People almost jumped out of the water that year. Two laps of swimming then back out of the water, up the sandbags. Swim time: 1:42. Having the wetsuit pulled off, and then running thru a shower that some dumb electrician built the first year was neat. It had shower heads, and hoses that hung down. After swimming in the ocean, hosing off a bit with fresh water seemed like a great idea. Grab your swim to bike transition bag and hit the tent. I wasn’t in a hurry, but wasn’t going to just lolly about. All went well except the socks. Double layer socks, and wet feet don’t work well. The inner layer sticks to the foot, the outer layer slides on well unfortunately it leaves a bunch of material at the toes. Pulled them off, put them on, finally to the bike.
This is the part I should love. I got to sit down for a while. Since I live near the course I have ridden most of it a bunch of times. The inland portion is on Camp Pendleton, and was closed to bicycles except for a few rare occasions. I took advantage of those occasions and had ridden that part 3 times. There is a story there also. I will share someday. I was aware of what the course offered up. Riding steady, as strong as I could, I completed the first lap, nothing exciting happened as I remember. I made it up the 3 big hills with effort, and fat guy gears. Not a triple but as close to mountain bike gearing as I could fit on a Klein. The second lap was harder. I had to walk a bit of the San Mateo hill, but not all. There is a downhill left hand decreasing radius curve. It never seemed overly dangerous; in fact I remember it as a fun hill to ride. When I got there the second time it was obvious something bad had happened. An accident for certain. MP’s slowing us down. Military police cars, flashing lights, still an ambulance there. At the time I didn’t know anything, but hoped all would be alright. It didn’t happen that way. Perry Rendina died that day doing what he loved. God bless Perry and his family. In the races that followed this corner is guarded by radar totin MP’s. Mattresses line the guard rail on the right side of the road, and volunteers are yelling at you to slow down. Not far from here the road turns to rolling hills. I love this part of the course. I finally passed Bill Bell. He was like 77 then. Right turn at the airport, and put your head down. Aerobars are a good thing, right? I finally made it back to transition. It was a long day of sitting. 8:14. + 1:42 = 9:56.
Subtract this from 17 hours means I have 7:04 left to go 26.2 miles on my feet. 4 miles an hour would get me to the finish on time. Bill Bell passed me at about mile 2. I tried to shuffle with him. It didn’t happen. I wasn’t ready. I will get to appologize to my online coaches for not keeping to the schedue. I hated to let them down. I kept going, just not fast enough. By the time I got to the Start of the second Lap I had done the math. 17 hours wasn’t going to happen. At the last turn around it was obvious I wasn’t going to be an official finisher. The turnaround is only 10 blocks from my house. I could almost see the shower and bed from the run course. I am not a quitter. There were family and friends waiting. Here is the picture. Me, an old, fat, wannabe ironman, walking to transition and the finish, with an assortment of people who joined with me to see if I could finish. There was a lady who lived by the turnaround who decided to go for a 6.5 mile walk in the middle of the night, J.D, the run course captain was still on the course, and needed to get back to transition was there. He was giving updates to the race director so they wouldn’t pack up and go home leaving some fat guy out on the course. He became a close friend. As we got closer to the finish line, more friends came out, Steve, Jen, Bill, others. They all have special places in my heart. I can’t name them all. Special people, all of them. Bill Bell, 77 years old finished at 11:57pm. One lady finished after him at 11:59. They were the last 2 official finishers. I finally got there at 12:42 am. Not the day I wanted, not the day I planned on.
I am Last.
3 Comments so far...
Karl McCracken Says:
. . . last, but you still went the distance. Definitely something to be proud of, especially when that bail out shower and bed were so close & tempting.
mtbman1 Says:
Good story! Hey, you finished! I’d be proud of that. In many events, some don’t finish, many more don’t even enter!
