2008 Collegiate Ironman Championships - Madison, WI - 15:28:39
Almost 7 years ago to the day, it was a beautiful September day before the leaves had fallen. The sun warming my shoulders as I sped over rolling hills, and wind gently moving through tall grass and corn fields. I never imagined the endurance even could be easy, but I was having the best race day of my life. Over four hours in, and I was zipping over 23 mph to the second giant loop when my stomach started to gurgle. I had been pushing fluids and timed nutrition every 15 minutes, and now nature called. Luckily there was a portapottie where I could quickly relieve myself. Coming out refreshed, I remember swinging my leg over Ace, my carbon fiber Trek Equinox 9.5TTX complete with a custom pain job of a WWII flying tiger fighter jet with a large eye and shark teeth emblazoned on it's side.
When my foot hit the pedal though, it slid right off. After a few more attempts, baffled, I pulled my foot up to get a good look at the mounting clip at the base of my shoe which checked out just fine. Next, I inspected the pedal itself and found that the bottom mounting plate and bolt were missing. Scanning the roadway I spotted the mounting plate, and with a little Hyland luck, I found the bolt as well. But, sure enough, when I went to screw the plate back on, the threads wouldn't take. It had been stripped. Puzzled, the only thing I knew I could do is keep going and hope for a SAG (Support And Gear) wagon to pull up next to me and be able to fix it.
At first, I picked one foot up and simply used one leg, which didn't go too bad having started on a hill. I could use the momentum of the downhill to get most of the way up the next one without too much effort, but after about an hour of peddling this way, I thought maybe I had gotten lucky again. On the side of the road I spotted a bike shop. Racing off course, I was soon begging the local mechanic to help me get my bike back in shape, but after forty five more minutes we still hadn't gotten anywhere. Thanking him for his time, I made my way back out, and ripped the athletic tape that held my nutrition to the frame of the bike, and quickly wound it around the broken peddle. Strapping the useless shoe to the back of my seat, I hunkered down and gripped the pedal with my bare toes. By this time, the only bikers that were left were the amateurs, and despite the two hour delay and one shoe, I was still cruising now at a 19 mph pace. To my surprise, I passed three athletes on mountain bikes, one of which who had duck taped a full sized bike pump to the back of their bike.
For nearly another 60 miles, I rode as fast as I could, pushing although I had lost nearly all feeling in my right foot. The metal cleat dug through the tape, giving my nerve damage to this day, but by god, I finished that bike, and made my only mistake of the race. I sat down.
It was the hardest thing I have ever done. The voices in my head started to scream in protest. I couldn't even feel the right shoe when I put it on my foot, but I hadn't suffered for a year not to finish. Although I wasn't sure if I could make it, I knew I could walk, and that forward motion was all I needed. I put one foot in front of the other until pretty soon, I was breathing steadily again. Even though I couldn't feel my foot, my knees and hips were still in good shape. I pushed into a trot, and then started to run, but was humbled when my full sprint was passed by a gray haired woman half my size power walking past me. Looking at her calf, her age glared at me in black marker, sixty. Good for her.
Yes, I proudly finished in 15 hours 28 minutes and 39 seconds, but that number doesn't account for the more than two hours lost trying to fix my bike, and the speed I lost on the second half of the bike and the run because of it. By my estimates, I would have been closer to a 12 hour Ironman, but regardless of the number, what I gained that day was the deep seeded knowledge that I can overcome any obstacle that comes my way. I am an Ironman, and this is what a modern viking looks like.