The 2009 Ironman Louisville started out like any other Ironman. 2700+ athletes invaded the town of Louisville with state of the art equipment and nervous ambition. Unlike other Ironman experiences, this was the first World Triathlon Corporation (WTC) owned event we would experience. The weather was uncharacteristically pleasant; unlike its first two years where the temperature scaled around 98 with the precipitation running a close 2nd at 90%. WTC, who owns and conducts Ironman Kona, holds Ironman Louisville on the same day Ironman North America traditionally conducts Ironman Canada; end of August. WTC purchased the North American Ironman race series not long ago. (See http://ironman.com/mediacenter/pressreleases/world-triathlon-corporation-acquires-seven-u.s.-based-races for more details.) 

My excitement this time was more for my traveling partners Sinta Tan, Greg Pittman, and Tyler and Kerri Miner. Vince and Mat Dudziak were also in attendance. This would be Tyler’s first, Sinta’s 2nd, Greg’s 3rd. Vince and Mat are like me, we stop counting after a while. I was especially excited for Tyler. The first timer experience is something I’ve learned to enjoy watching as much I do racing. Observing the transformation of someone go from impossible sporting an S on their chest never gets old, especially when that someone has relied on me for the guidance needed to get through an event of this nature.

My Ironman experiences have always been about the “athlete.” It’s a long catered training day where the athletes are attended to from start to finish. There were significant differences throughout the week’s agenda making this WTC event distinctively different than previous North America events. It started with the rules. Athletes were not allowed in the transition area for bike and bag drop off without a volunteer. This was ok if you were early. But once the volunteers were all occupied, the line started to back up. We were fortunate to be proactive but I felt for the poor soles unnecessarily standing in line with their bikes and bags under the hot afternoon sun. Another new rule that I had a hard time dealing with was their Physically Challenged (PC) rule. They would not allow me to race in PC because my arm was not amputated. Greg pointed out that wheelchair athletes have paralyzed legs and are considered PC. So when I posed the question what’s the difference between a paralyzed arm and leg, I got a blank stare much like when the person behind a counter can’t find a matching button on the cash register to match my request. A cold chill went up my spine as I wondered if the folks running this show have ever participated in such an event. I further wondered if these are the effects of Ironman going corporate. Was this caused by the WTC take over?

The swim was in the Ohio River; a beautiful site from a distance. Because the channel is narrow and cannot accommodate a mass start, we formed a mile+ long line and preceded a few at a time into the murky water. The water temperature was very pleasant; about 85 degrees. No wetsuit swim. As I progressed though the swim, I kept replaying our walk along the strand in my head from the previous day. Memories of the debris collected along the boat hulls and docks worried me. What was it and where did it come from? Signs posted along the strand stated “Warning - During and after rain events, the surface water in this area contains run off contaminants and is subject to sewage overflows. Avoid contact with water due to increase health risks.” It just so happened that it rained Friday and Saturday. Sunday morning and we’re now swimming. Is anything wrong with this picture?

As we approached the turnaround bouy, I noticed several swimmers walking so I tried. As I stepped down my foot seeped through about a foot of muck. Ewh!!!! We found the sewage I thought. Keep swimming, “don’t swallow” I told myself, “don’t swallow”. The swim seemed long. We all logged times 5-10 minutes slower than expected. I felt sick to my stomach. Its over, lets move on. The hardest part is over. Where’s my bike?

My transition took longer than expected because I misplaced my hand strap. Funny that my back-up hand strap is also missing, as was my sandwich. Well, a lot of good the volunteer escorts did. Without my strap, I can’t strap myself to my horse. Thinking it was in my other (run) bag, I went back out to look, nope, not there. OK, enough time wasted. I ripped my spare tubular off my bike dropped it and jimmied the strap on as best I could (it wasn’t long enough). No PR today. Sh#$!!!! I’m going to have to run my ass off to catch these peeps.

The bike course was a beautiful with magnificent country views throughout. That’s the good news. The bad news is we under estimated the difficulty. Don’t be fooled by the elevation chart that indicates 500 or so feet difference between the lowest and highest points on the course. While that might be true, this course takes you up and down more often than most other courses. It reminds me a lot of Ironman Wisconsin. I believe we climbed a total of 7500 feet on the bike. It was frustrating having to stop often to fix my hand strap then pass the same peeps again and again. Burp! Ooops, must be some of that sludge from the river coming up, mmmmmm

We headed East and after about 15 mile did a short out and back where I saw Sinta heading the other way. We then continued out of town, did two 30 mile loops before heading back to town. Ever turn was greeted with headwind. It wasn’t until later did I realize the collection of hills we road through made it difficult to predict the wind’s direction. While they weren’t high winds, there were a nusence. 90 percent of the bike course was on narrow two lane highways with no shoulder open to traffic. Many of us got caught behind cars waiting to pass other slower cyclist up ahead. Again I thought, "gees WTC, didn't you think this through." The volunteers were plentiful and fantastic on the bike course.

Oh! No! Gotta go #2. One of the rules they made very clear was no watering or fertilizing the grounds while on the course. You get DQ’d that fast. This rule should come with plentiful potties. Not! I noticed 1 head on the course with about 20 cyclist all crossing their legs. I decided to pucker up and head to T2 before letting loose. Bad, bad, really bad idea!!!!

I took my time going through T2 casually walking through bag pick up and into the change tent. My thoughts were on the run. I wanted to run well and had strategized a slow start gradually working into a solid pace that would a least scare my travelling companions. At mile 2 things were progressing well and realized I forgot to go to the head. It didn’t worry me because I had lost the urge. 9:30 pace, 9:00, 8:30 8:00, OK auto pilot. I was good here. Everything was fine, just stay at this pace and cruise home to a decent time.

At around mile 8 a saw Sinta going the other way. The turnaround was 4 minutes up the road so I guessed I was 8 minutes back and planned to catch Sinta by mile 13. Tyler and Greg were both strong and I avoided thought of running them down until way late in the race. I had serious doubt that would even happen.

As I rounded the turnaround I noticed a slight downhill and decided to go for broke. No guts no glory right? I took advantage of the slight downhill and picked it up. That lasted for about another 2 miles before Montezuma's Revenge hit me like a train. I had to go #2 RIGHT NOW!!!!! All of a sudden and with no warning it was a race to the porta potty; the race was now insignificant. Pucker, pucker, pucker some more, oh sh%$. I can't squeeze my cheeks tight enough. It's funny how these moments make us instantly super religious hoping for some miraculous intervention that would save us from total humiliation. The pucker and run strategy lasted me though mile 18 before I lost the courage to venture too far away from a potty. Game Over.

Disappointed? Sure. But I've done enough of these races to understand. The reward I got from watching the rest finish overshadowed any disappointment. It also fuels my motivation to settle unfinished business. I felt more disappointment in how this race series is changing. After the finish, a 60+ age group female finished with under 10 minutes to spare. She needed medical attention. She was not allowed in the medical tent and was not given attention. They were "closed" for the night. In my previous 15 Ironman, the med tent was open until every athlete who needed medical attention was attended to or shipped to the hospital. Another example of Ironman gone corporate.

The exclamation point that distinguished IM Louisville as a new WTC event was the disqualification of athletes who completed the course and crossed the finish line with a family member. This is a new rule and IM North America has always granted leniency to athletes and gradually became stringent on rules. Not so on this day. No medal, no call out "You are an Ironman," no reward. Find another way to penalize us these athletes but don't strip them of their accomplishment.

All this being said, I don't want to end on negative note. Let's hope this was an isolated experience. Look beyond the human aspect of those conducting the race and more towards the challenge of 140.6 miles. There is no feeling like crossing the finish line. The impossible is no more. There is nothing you can't do once you cross that line. The word can't ceases to exist. And you carry this with you....24/7/360.

There are 2 reasons I would do this event again…the people of Louisville and unfinished business. The peeps/volunteers were wonderful, hospitable, hard working, and genuine. Congratulations to all of my companions as they persevered through an underestimated difficult course.