Ironman Recap Part II: Hopeless, Bleak, Despair

(Author's note: I've tried to self edit the hyperbole and exaggerations of this narrative. I've written my true experience the way I remember it.)

Chalk Hill got it's name because, over the 25 years of the Vineman Ironman, spectators have written participants name in chalk on the road. During the first loop, when I felt so good, I passed a bunch of people. I did notice, however, that my name was not written anywhere on the road. If I ever did this again, I would go write myself a message on the night before. I know if I had that idea this year I would have written my mantra and "Urmanium, there is still hope."

Chalk Hill Part Deux

I arrived at the base of Chalk Hill thinking if I could just get over this hill, I'll almost be done. So I put my bike in the lowest gear and started spinning. After a while, I went from spinning the pedals, to rolling, to turning, to churning, to pushing, to stagnating. I realized that if I didn't stand I would just fall over to the side. So as I stood, the "guitar strings" tightened. Luckily I got out of my pedals to put my feet down. Then both my legs cramped from my toes to my thighs; I could not move. (Right here you might want to cue up "High Hopes" sung by Frank Sinatra, but it would probably by better to cue Hopeless, Bleak, Despair by They Might Be Giants.) I don't want to make any comparisons to pregnancy, so imagine the pain of the worst calf cramp that woke you up in the middle of the night and multiply that by all the muscle groups from your toes to your thighs in both legs, then multiply that by a number that would lead you to yell, cuss, scream, and cry all at the same time, then try to walk to the shade of a tree so you can rest but you don't move, except for your eyeballs rolling back in your head. There I stood; hopeless. I can't even walk up this hill. I think I'm done.

There was another guy parked on Chalk Hill just like me, but he actually moved to me. He gave me some sodium and potassium pills. Well, he told me they were potassium. This is how desperate I was; I took drugs from a stranger.  We stood there together to let the drugs take effect, we watched other cyclist suffer past us(their names were probably written somewhere in chalk), and then we walked up together. My drug dealer took off once we reached the top, but I had stay up top to make sure my legs were functioning before I descended. So it was "all down hill" from there. Don't get the idea I didn't suffer the last 14 to 16 miles. The route passes a cemetery and it looked like comfortable alternative; a nice final resting place.

The Run

I got in and out of transition 2 as quickly as possible. I changed my clothes because I was sick of that sticky, stinky triathlon top. So I changed to the Urmanium shirt for strength, and my lucky United Rentals hat, I had found on a training run in the almond orchards, for luck.

I knew my cheering squad was just at the start of the run so I thought I would give it a try. The legs seized again as I reach Elaine, "it's going to be a late night." It was around 4:30pm.

Loop 1
The marathon is divided in three loops and people were talking about how, worse case scenario, they could still walk and make the 11:15pm cut off time. I figured, if I wasn't running, I was going to have to joke my way through this thing. A lot of people were walking so they had to listen. Most conversations were about the bike and the Sun. I told people I was considering sitting down until the sun went down and then run as fast as I could. Most people didn't catch the sarcasm and told me that this was a bad plan. I walked with a dude from a team of 25 who came from Hawaii. Together we questioned the calculations for walking the whole thing and determined that it wasn't going to be that easy; there would have to be some running involved.

When I got to the first aid station I yelled, "DO YOU HAVE ANY HOT COCOA?!" This was my joke at each aid station on the first half of the loop. I used the variation, "Is there any soup, I'm freezing?" Most people thought this was funny. I got one teenage girl who looked at her friend, rolled her eyes, and mumbled something about "weird" and "so hot outside". Her friend told her it was a joke. After the first half of the loop the joke was over because you loop through the same aid stations, so I started making calculations, and the joke really was over. I realized that I was going to have to start running at some point. I tried running but kept cramping. I ran a couple times for 60 steps then I finished the first loop. As I finished loop 1, the race announcer says over the PA system, "Peter Urmston, you have 2 hours and 25 minutes to make the 9:15 cut off time.

To Be Continued