1984 Ironman / The Inside Story
The nightmare continues
How many years should you work towards a goal before you walk away? The answer seems simple, when you’ve had enough. Easy to say, but another thing entirely to do.
One scant second separated Dave Scott and me coming out of the water. Patience has its place, but third had been the best I had gotten using that as a strategy. The bike was to begin. This was my time, my year to test the soon to be discovered corners of my potential. I pushed, but also felt like I held enough back for the marathon. My bike split was only outdone by John Howard, also an Ironman Champion, and that year the best cyclist in the sport.
Dave Scott started the marathon over ten minutes behind me. I ran the opening miles through the down of Kona with ease, smiling to the crowd who I knew was cheering the soon-to-be Ironman Champion. I was approaching the bottom of Palani Road, the hill that takes you from the comfort of town to the stark lava and the loneliness that you face out there. As I turned right to climb up it I knew I had the victory. But at the top, less than a mile later, I felt like every ounce of energy had been sucked out of my body. Twenty miles of running through black desolate lava stared me in the face and I was already running on fumes. It was my date with destiny, but a destiny of a very different face than I had envisioned.
Walking started to be the only option. My legs were not responding enough to run. Dave passed me, along with three others. I looked so bad that the medical team tried to pull me off the course at one point where I had stopped and was pouring buckets of water over my head in a vain attempt to gain some kind of grace from the Island.
I gave them my best “I'm Okay” speech I could. Eventually they let me continue. I would run when I could, then walk as fast as I could when that was the only option. I could have just given up, but I wanted to cross the line knowing that I had given 100% of what I had even when my body was operating at about 20% of top capacity.
Fifth was my finish that day, enough to be called up at the awards the next evening. It was something I could certainly be proud of because even that was hard fought. But it was also my first truly devastating setback in Hawaii. I saw how all the preparation and great training in the world does not immunize you from your frailties. I experienced challenges of epic proportions just to finish. I thought I had done what it took to win, but never imagined that even with so much preparation that I could be reduced to something akin to feeling like I was barely surviving, dangling from the roughest edge life could offer. I would come back, but it would not be easy.