Ironman World
Championships 2008 Race Report - As I walked down the stairs to the beach for the start of the race, the crowds lined the cove's wall, the sun squinted over the mountains, black speed suits brushed by me and oval goggles glared. I suddenly became confused, however, as I tried to differentiate between the pounding of my heart and that of the native Hawaiian drummers whose rhythm was not only motivating but intimidating. I turned to my friend Danny and said... "I feel like we are on our way to be sacrificed!" In a way I was right.
The swim start was 1800 of the best Ironman athletes in the world charging to be the leader of the school of human fish in the first 1/4 mile. It was mayhem. Men and women combined punching, kicking, crawling and a few swim strokes in between to get through the 2.4 mile swim as fast as possible. Except for a couple hits to the face I managed to get into a good rhythm and draft off of a strong swimmer. I stayed with this guy for almost the entire swim until a pile up around mile two sent me on my own. I came out of the water in 135th overall and 13th in my age group of 160 in a time of 57:14.
The bike was a fast beginning and I felt strong. I had to keep reminding myself that it would be a long day and a hot one for sure. As Matt Dixon coached me to do, I threw away my expectations and calculations and went purely on feel, monitoring my technique, breathing, hydration, electrolytes and food. The Queen "K" Hwy is a long and desolate stretch with black lava fields on either side and is embraced by ocean and volcanic mountains. The hardened lava acts as a brick oven throwing heat into each and every pore. I was humbled by the quality of riders stretched before me, some 15 yrs either way of me. The winds were brutal pushing us backwards and sideways, a gust literally moving your bike 3 ft. to the side. Passing or being passed was a little unnerving. Two unfortunate riders would be blown off the road resulting in some bad crashes. It was a long 56 miles out and I struggled with the climb to the halfway point. Heading downhill back towards Kona energized my mind and body. I was having a good race and racing smart. My bike ended up being a solid 5:17 mins. which put me in 213th overall and 32 in my age group.Coming off the bike into the transition my buzz was quickly killed. I could barely run my bike into the racks because my left knee was in some serious pain. This was not so unexpected as I had had some knee pain for 2 weeks prior to the race. One week before, I could not even run 10 mins. without having to stop. I treated it aggressively and did not run at all. I said to myself, "We will see how it is on race day. I won't know if it will hold up until I get across the line." I went into the transition tent and found a massage therapist - luxury it was not, saving grace it turned out to be. He started working the quad to relieve the tension on the knee, but the result was an intense hamstring seizure. On a scale of 1-10, sudden cramping is an 11. After 10 mins. in transition I started my run with every bit of positive thinking possible being pushed to the forefront of my brain. I had a strong, pain free couple miles and I was confident.
Once again, Kona gods surprised me as I was thrown into the Pain Cave, heat taking over my body. I slowed down and felt horrible. I was being passed and, yet still passing others. One woman I ran by was uncontrollably sobbing. I said to her, "Just one step at a time... you can do this!" Little did I know if she could even understand me (over half the racers were foreign) and that my encouragement would become my mantra! I thought of Sarah. She would keep going, getting one foot in front of the other. My race now came down to survival. I put cups of ice down my shorts (yes, voluntarily) and top in attempt to bring down my core temperature. I saw my great support team at mile 6. Jay and Chris, my in-laws, parents and wife all cheered me on as I approached. I took it to a somewhat defeated walk to say, "Guys, its going to be a really long day. I am hurting!" 20 miles to go and its only getting hotter! One step at time. I decided on my new strategy. If I could run a mile to the next aid station, then I could walk 30 secs. getting ice and water, recoup and then be able to run a little faster the next mile. Walking would be a much needed mental and physical break. I headed out again to the Queen K, a lonely, hot stretch of fresh blacktop in prime tanning hours. The ice was working however, and I started to cool. I just kept it steady. As I passed mile 16, three people stood by the roadside, their hands on their knees. It reminded me of some attendees of my 21st birthday party but they were projectile vomiting Gatorade, Clif bars and gels, not booze. Another racer lay in the dirt passed out - a photographer became his medic. This was suffering, not fun. "Finish what you start!," I thought. With the end coming closer and my body cooling down, I was able to pick up the pace for the last 10 miles. I may not be breaking 10hrs. today, but I was determined to break 10:30.
Coming towards the finish my mind raced with thoughts and memories of this Ironman Journey - the first conversation with Chip Olson about tackling this goal, the coaching by Matt Dixon, the 12-20hrs a week of long solo rides, cold swims, amazing runs, the time spent with Sarah's spirit, being hit by a car and surgery, the comeback process, Lake Placid qualification Ironman, the birth of my baby girl two months prior, the new friends, the free time I would soon have to spend with my wife Amy and girl Fiona, the time to surf, and option to have a beer... or three!
Most importantly, I thought of the fundraising we did through Sarah's spirit for Outward Bound. I was blown away by the fact that Chip Olson's generosity and sponsorship of my Ironman season, had created a chain reaction of giving. Triathlon is often a very selfish or should I say "self-focussed" sport. However, this Ironman Journey was not about one man. Rather it was about all of those who have supported me and the Sarah Devens Memorial Scholarship. The donations will not only change the lives of some very deserving kids who embark upon the Outward Bound journey, but those lives who are touched by community service done by the recipients before and after their return.
The last 200 meters were the best part of the whole race.
The crowds cheers ushered me into the finish chute. I ran to the ramp leading up the arch and then walked across the line soaking in every bit of it...every bit! Looking up at the clock...10:26:03. Whew! I left it all on the course. I was humbled and proud.
Hopefully, many of you are inspired to take on that goal you've had in your heart. I watched it on the faces of every finisher and especially on the 72 yr. old woman and the 79 yr. old man as they crossed the finish line just minutes before the midnight cut off time. Anything is possible... as long as you take one stroke, one pedal, one step at a time!
Thank you all for your energy and interest. Be good to yourself and your teammates.
Josh Crosby
joshcrosby1@mac.com
