I have been ill this week (probably due to immune system overload after the Ironman) and my brain has been capable of watching youtube videos only. I saw one with Ryan Reynolds after he had run his first marathon. I loved how honest he was about how painful the experience was, how he hated people sticking a microphone in his face immediately after and asking how he felt. I also loved that Craig Ferguson said that he wanted to run a marathon, but only the last 200 meters, when the crowd is cheering you on and you feel great. I thought--yes! That is truly one of the best moments, but I'm not sure it would feel quite so great if you hadn't been in terrible pain a moment before.
An Ironman is a marathon times three, and the energy of the finish line is like nothing else I have ever experienced. I didn't stay until the very end of this year's Ironman St. George, but I stayed until about 30 minutes before the end. At that point, there is no one actually running on the course. They are just too tired to do more than a shuffle. But not one person walked to the finish line. Everyone I saw had a smile on suddenly and was running. Some of them were sprinting at a ridiculous pace. I loved this part of the Ironman experience. I don't know that there is anything like it in any other race, and I've done a lot of races. No matter what your time, you get the same roar of applause from the crowd when you come in. You feel like an absolute, well, Ironman.
Here are some of the awesome volunteer positions at Ironman:
1. Registration, two days before the race, where you pick up race numbers, your goody bag, get your Ironman wristband.
2. bike and run gear drop offs, where you go the day before to have your things in place on race day (people stay up all night to watch and protect your stuff--they took photos of our bikes to make sure nothing was taken off the bike, too).
3. 4 a.m. Race morning, when you have people directing you to all the buses that take you to the swim start.
4. Race morning when they have people in transition, making sure you get sunscreen on, your wetsuits zipped up.
5. The race start when everyone is in the water and you can look back at the beach and see it lined with people cheering.
6. In the water, where there are kayakers and rescue boats all around to help you.
7. After the swim, when lines of people are waiting to help you out of your wetsuit.
8. On the bike, when every 15 miles there are fifty people lined up to run after you and hand off whatever food or drink you need, or to hold your bike or you when you need to use a portapotty.
9. At every turn or bump where volunteers are stationed to help make sure there are no problems.
10. The roaming bike support vehicles in case you need help to change a tire.
11. The doctors on call in case you need medical care.
12. The race officials who go around on motorcycles to make sure that no one is cheating or cutting corners.
13. T2 volunteers who help make sure you don't fall off your bike, that you get your running shoes on, get ice and water and anything you need (including tampons) and cheer you on.
14. Run aid station volunteers who call out what they have for you, so you don't have to use your brain enough to form words to ask (a serious problem at that point, let me assure you).
15. Randomly located volunteers who are watching to see if someone collapses.
16. Policemen at every intersection, motioning cars away.
17. Finish-line "catchers" because you'd be surprised how many of those people who were sprinting to the finish line suddenly collapse when the race is over. In my opinion, the coolest job of all. They get your medal, your finisher shirt (prized) and wrap you in a space blanket so you don't start shivering in reaction, then walk you slowly through to the area where your family and food wait.
18. Medical tent volunteers.
19. Post-race food volunteers.
20. Volunteers who clean up the course after racers drop stuff (they shouldn't do this, but do anyway).
21. Those who set out anything lost along the course, flip flops from the swim or water bottles people might want back, the morning after.
My thanks to all the volunteers at all the races I've done. I kept trying to thank them, and then they'd thank me back. No, really--I am the one who should thank you.
But how this relates to regular life? I think we all need support crews, no matter what we are trying to do. A support crew makes it possible for anyone to do more than they thought they could do. Just being able to look forward to seeing another human face helps you keep going. When you are on that long 112 mile bike course, it is really hard to get your mind around that many miles. So you don't. You just think about the next aid station, and the cheering there. You think about seeing your family at points along the course and the rush of energy that gives you. Humans are social animals. No matter how good of an athlete or writer or mother you are, you need social contact. You need help and cheering. So don't be afraid to ask for it. The people you need may need you just as much in return.
Also, don't be afraid to tell people what you need. At my first Ironman, I gave my husband and kids a list of things they could cheer me with. I told them it was absolutely essential that they not tell me to go faster. Going fast early on in a race can be deadly. Not literally, but it can kill your later race. So I told them to say "Hold your pace," "Stay hydrated" and "You're an Ironman." There is nothing wrong with you telling your support crew what would be helpful to say, no matter what your race. And you can change your mind, too. If it's not helping for your husband to hold your hand in delivery, tell him what else to do. Or just shout, if that is what you need. You're allowed. It's your race. If you're a writer and you are having a hard time with a book, tell people. Tell your agent or editor. Tell another writer friend. Get help. Use your support crew. Look forward to them. Take energy from their cheering. You will be an Ironman at the end of your race, too, whatever it is.
An Ironman is a marathon times three, and the energy of the finish line is like nothing else I have ever experienced. I didn't stay until the very end of this year's Ironman St. George, but I stayed until about 30 minutes before the end. At that point, there is no one actually running on the course. They are just too tired to do more than a shuffle. But not one person walked to the finish line. Everyone I saw had a smile on suddenly and was running. Some of them were sprinting at a ridiculous pace. I loved this part of the Ironman experience. I don't know that there is anything like it in any other race, and I've done a lot of races. No matter what your time, you get the same roar of applause from the crowd when you come in. You feel like an absolute, well, Ironman.
Here are some of the awesome volunteer positions at Ironman:
1. Registration, two days before the race, where you pick up race numbers, your goody bag, get your Ironman wristband.
2. bike and run gear drop offs, where you go the day before to have your things in place on race day (people stay up all night to watch and protect your stuff--they took photos of our bikes to make sure nothing was taken off the bike, too).
3. 4 a.m. Race morning, when you have people directing you to all the buses that take you to the swim start.
4. Race morning when they have people in transition, making sure you get sunscreen on, your wetsuits zipped up.
5. The race start when everyone is in the water and you can look back at the beach and see it lined with people cheering.
6. In the water, where there are kayakers and rescue boats all around to help you.
7. After the swim, when lines of people are waiting to help you out of your wetsuit.
8. On the bike, when every 15 miles there are fifty people lined up to run after you and hand off whatever food or drink you need, or to hold your bike or you when you need to use a portapotty.
9. At every turn or bump where volunteers are stationed to help make sure there are no problems.
10. The roaming bike support vehicles in case you need help to change a tire.
11. The doctors on call in case you need medical care.
12. The race officials who go around on motorcycles to make sure that no one is cheating or cutting corners.
13. T2 volunteers who help make sure you don't fall off your bike, that you get your running shoes on, get ice and water and anything you need (including tampons) and cheer you on.
14. Run aid station volunteers who call out what they have for you, so you don't have to use your brain enough to form words to ask (a serious problem at that point, let me assure you).
15. Randomly located volunteers who are watching to see if someone collapses.
16. Policemen at every intersection, motioning cars away.
17. Finish-line "catchers" because you'd be surprised how many of those people who were sprinting to the finish line suddenly collapse when the race is over. In my opinion, the coolest job of all. They get your medal, your finisher shirt (prized) and wrap you in a space blanket so you don't start shivering in reaction, then walk you slowly through to the area where your family and food wait.
18. Medical tent volunteers.
19. Post-race food volunteers.
20. Volunteers who clean up the course after racers drop stuff (they shouldn't do this, but do anyway).
21. Those who set out anything lost along the course, flip flops from the swim or water bottles people might want back, the morning after.
My thanks to all the volunteers at all the races I've done. I kept trying to thank them, and then they'd thank me back. No, really--I am the one who should thank you.
But how this relates to regular life? I think we all need support crews, no matter what we are trying to do. A support crew makes it possible for anyone to do more than they thought they could do. Just being able to look forward to seeing another human face helps you keep going. When you are on that long 112 mile bike course, it is really hard to get your mind around that many miles. So you don't. You just think about the next aid station, and the cheering there. You think about seeing your family at points along the course and the rush of energy that gives you. Humans are social animals. No matter how good of an athlete or writer or mother you are, you need social contact. You need help and cheering. So don't be afraid to ask for it. The people you need may need you just as much in return.
Also, don't be afraid to tell people what you need. At my first Ironman, I gave my husband and kids a list of things they could cheer me with. I told them it was absolutely essential that they not tell me to go faster. Going fast early on in a race can be deadly. Not literally, but it can kill your later race. So I told them to say "Hold your pace," "Stay hydrated" and "You're an Ironman." There is nothing wrong with you telling your support crew what would be helpful to say, no matter what your race. And you can change your mind, too. If it's not helping for your husband to hold your hand in delivery, tell him what else to do. Or just shout, if that is what you need. You're allowed. It's your race. If you're a writer and you are having a hard time with a book, tell people. Tell your agent or editor. Tell another writer friend. Get help. Use your support crew. Look forward to them. Take energy from their cheering. You will be an Ironman at the end of your race, too, whatever it is.
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