I
was number 307 in line. Epilogue.
August 28 - April 25, 2001
As usual, it was pretty easy to wake up the day after the race. With everything hurting, sleep is shallow...and waking is the only refuge. I grabbed a chair, my Discman, a book, some water, and 2 containers of yogurt...getting to the Lakeside at 6:30am.
I
was number 307 in line.
(I'm in the white pullover and hat with the latte, in the chair).
I know this because Eric S. Weiss (ESQ. and Patent Smartass) counted every single soul in line before me, and drew a big circle around my chair in chalk...with the number "307" on the pavement. It would take close to 10 hours from the time I lined up...but when the smoke cleared I had signed myself up, and Jason took care of Mark Markley when they started giving out the second spots for the 2001 Ironman Canada. Eric laughed the entire day, but I didn't care. I was in, and that would be the last time I'd have to endure the post-race crush. And if you think racing an IM before my wedding was daring, you haven't seen anything yet: Kim signed up with Mike - they would be racing IMC as a Non-Catholic Pre-Cana, 2 weeks before their wedding day in 2001.
The
day after is always tough. You're moving at half-speed, so time seems to be
going twice as fast. Bikes were packed up with fare less care than they had on
the way out; luggage was stuffed; and the grandstands were slowly disassembled
as Penticton took its first steps to return to normal. The chalk on the road
slowly was carried away by the wind...and a quiet malaise slowly made its way
around as the last day for most of us, drew near a close. After such a long
journey - the ending never seems to last long enough.
At
the awards banquet that night, I gave Eric his reward for winning the 2001 Duel
in stunning, dominating fashion: A bag of sand from Lake Okanagan, and a case of
Bubble Gum...so he wouldn't kick my ass all over again (referring to his
"Kicking Ass and Chewing Bubble Gum" IM-USA Race Report). There were
goodbyes and hugs afterwards - it would be another year before we'd get to all
try this one more time.
The next day dawned rainy and cold - a perfect day not to be racing. We packed up the van for what seemed like the 26th time that week, and got ready to leave another IMC in the books. The balloons that Amy had sent Eric were still full of helium...so Eric stepped outside and one at a time...launched them into the grey mist of the morning. We watched the last of them fade off into the clouds without saying anything, and headed off to pick up Mike, Kim, and Jane for the trip to Seattle.
Ironman Canada 2001 will be my last IM race for a long time. It was once the end-all, be-all of my athletic life...and possibly my life during 1996-1998 when it was the biggest, scariest thing I had ever done. With the passage of time it, and I, have matured to the point where it has now taken a role as a part of me, instead of being who I am. I will go back with a coach, a plan, and a body...but I will not live or die by what the clock has to say to me.
I feel lucky and blessed to have been given the time and chances to not only finish that first one...but three more, with a chance for the 5th still ahead of me. I can move on to bigger and better things knowing that I have used the Ironman to squeeze in a short window of years more of the Dead Poets Society lead Professor Keating's "Sweet marrow of life..." then most people will in their lifetimes. I have no regrets, no "If only's...", and nothing left to prove to myself, to my past, or to anyone.
Lynda will join me for one last trip to Penticton this August, and as we head off on a new life together filled with all the modern trappings of mortgage payments, balancing careers, finding the right daycare, and most importantly finding the time for each other...I will always owe her a debt of lifelong gratitude for being the great woman that went so far beyond supporting me all those years. There were sacrifices made, moods tolerated, and vacations given up to my selfish pursuits...and there is no way I could have ever accomplished any of this without her. If I can be half the man to her that she has been to me...well, our kids will probably still think she's really a super-hero...and I just lucked into marrying her at the right time.
We'll see you at the Sicamous.