“The miracle isn’t that I finished, the miracle is that I had the courage to start.”
- John “The Penguin” Bingham
This past year I dreamed of nothing more than to become an Ironman. I envisioned myself swimming the 2.4 miles, biking 112 miles and then running 26.2 miles and sailing through the finish line with a huge smile on my face. I wanted to be the best athlete that I could ever have been and I really believed that I could do it. I was aiming for the gold!
I am a good triathlete and have worked so hard over the past three years to get to the Ironman. I would get up at 5 am six days a week to get to swim practice, go for a bike ride and to run. Most days I was doing two workouts and only took one rest day a week per my training plan. I sacrificed going to parties, and time with family and friends. I missed out on my step kids games and time with my husband. After all of this I couldn’t have been in a better position to achieve my dream: Becoming an Ironman. I had sacrificed a lot and trained the best that I could have in spite of life’s obstacles that where thrown my way. Some moments I feel high, knowing that I am trained and believe that I can handle this monster of a challenge. Other times I find myself slipping, riding a downward wave of insecurity and doubt. But there is no stopping time. Race day is about to happen and I was ready to take on Ironman USA in Lake Placid, New York.
Race day came with a cool and overcast morning. Not like what Accuweather had predicted, 76 and only a slight chance of afternoon thunderstorms. Perfect race weather! Jen, Doug and I headed out to the transition area with our family and friends in tow. To say we were nervous is an understatement as we all kept saying we felt like we were going to puke from nerves! We got body marked and then headed up to the swim start where we said goodbye to our family and friends. It was going to be a long time before we saw them again and we were so excited to get this day underway!
Jen, Doug and I headed into the water to warm up and to get positioned for the mass start. This is when the weather turned bad and started to rain, not lightly but a hard steady rain. We were so nervous and chatted a bit until the pro wave went off. Then it was time to take our marks in the water and wait for our cannon to go off. This, to me, is the worst part of an Ironman day. It isn’t the pain that happens when you sit on the bike for 112 miles or the struggle to put one foot in front of the other in the closing miles of the run. The worst part of an Ironman I think is right now, treading water with 2,200 other crazed triathletes pumped up to near hysteria on a mixture of adrenaline, nerves and fear. There was a lot of sound but most of it unintelligible, just one big chaotic noise: helicopters flying overhead, announcers microphone blaring out instructions you can’t hear, lifeguards on surfboards and in kayaks yelling at everyone to get behind the starting line, racers yelling good luck and well wishes to their friends….
And suddenly without warning BOOM!!!! The cannon blasts and all 2,200 of us start one of the greatest sights in sports, the Iornman swim start. Arms are flailing, feet are kicking and it seems no one is finding water, just other bodies. I get kicked in the chest twice before I finally swam over to a kayaker and held on for a moment to let the chaos pass me by. This was the smartest decision as I was then able to find open water and swim my pace without getting kicked around so much. At one point I came up to sight and heard a loud rushing sound coming from behind me. I turned around to see the scariest sight ever, the pro wave thrashing its way toward me in a mad, thrashing of arms and white water! I quickly got out of their way so as not to be pummeled by them and I got the chills just seeing them fly by me, what a site!!
I came out of the swim in an hour and forty-seven minutes and headed to the transition tent. Along the way I saw my mother, Jen Duncan and Brandon cheering me on even though it was pouring down rain, they were still there for me! Once inside the changing tent, the awesome volunteers did everything possible to help me get dressed and ready for my bike ride. They were amazing and so encouraging it was awesome to have such great help!
I headed out into the pouring rain on what was to be a 112-mile bike ride throughout the Adirondack Mountains. I was a little nervous, as I had never ridden in such nasty conditions. It was literally pouring down rain and there was no sign of it letting up. So much for Accuweather’s 76 degrees!!
The first loop of the bike was very exciting what with the rain and the screaming 10 Kilometer downhill my nerves were a mess. I decided that no matter what the weather conditions were I was going to smile and finish this bike course, they would have to pull me off the bike in order to get me to stop this race! I was having a lot of fun and was singing out loud to myself “I can see clearly now the rain is gone, I can see all obstacles in my way…” Only problem was, I could hardly see the cyclist in front of me it was raining so hard! The support from all the small towns we rode through was amazing, in spite of the weather all the townspeople were out with signs and ringing cowbells, banging pots and pans and cheering us on. I felt like a professional athlete or an Olympic star with all the cheering and the support we received. I have never experienced anything like it in all the races I have ever done. It was awesome!
I passed our cabin at mile 48 and saw my mother, Jen Duncan, Brandon and the Gibbons family all cheering me on. I stopped briefly to smile for a picture and to tell my mother to call my husband and tell him I love him and that I would be there soon. Tony was at the VIP tent with his best friend, Rob from high school. I couldn’t wait to pass him and see his smile!
From mile 43 until mile 56 there is nothing but climbing, climbing and climbing more. I got to my special needs bag and gulped down an Ensure, my liquid nutrition, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and picked up my three bottles of EFS and headed back out on my way. The rain still had not let up and it seemed it was going to go on like this all day. I looked for my husband at the bike turn around and did not see him, it was so crowded with spectators and so loud, the crowds were deafening. Oh well, maybe on the next loop I thought.
The next loop is where things got tough. Mentally and physically I felt great but at about mile 80-90, I am not sure exactly which one, I felt a pins and needles feeling in my right arm, all through my shoulder and my neck. It hurt to go into my aero-bars and the pain had me concerned. I pulled over at an aid station to get some fluids and to use the facilities and this is when things went from bad to worse. I started shaking violently and got so cold so quickly I could hardly walk. A volunteer called for a nurse, they have a nurse at every aid station in an Ironman, and she immediately made me sit down. She took my temperature and it was a mere 91 degrees, I was Hypothermic!! The next thing I know I am taken out of the race and put into an ambulance. I was shocked and scared to death. I was so upset and kept arguing that I was fine and to please let me go. Little did I know we were already underway heading to the medical tent. My race was over. Mother nature got the best of me. I was crushed. I guess that the 60-degree temperature and pouring rain got the better of me.
After wrapping me in thermal blankets and putting hot gel packs under my armpits, between my legs, on top of and under my feet and at the base of my neck we went to the meds tent with sirens blaring and lights flashing. Oh crap, I thought, this is for real, I am in serious trouble now. I was brought into the meds tent and tended to by Dr. Cunningham who was from Ithaca, New York. She was great and forced me to undress out of my sopping wet clothes and into my dry clothes that a volunteer retrieved from my special needs bags. She kept an eye on me and kept taking my temperature and re-wrapping me with more blankets and even put me in a warming section of the meds tent were there was at least 10 others there with the same diagnosis. They kept forcing us to drink hot broth to help warm us up The meds tent was a madhouse packed with athletes and doctors running around, it looked like a scene from M.A.S.H.!!
About 2 hours later I was able to call my husband who was worried sick when he heard my voice. He and Rob came to retrieve me once my temperature was steady and back to normal. We went to get me something hot to eat and then headed back to our cabin so I could take a hot shower and get some warm layers of clothing on.
I have never been so disappointed in my life. This was going to be a great race and I was determined to finish it come hell or high water. I guess the high water got me as we had over 5 inches of rain that day! It rained a steady, hard rain from 7 in the morning to well past midnight. It just never let up.
For the past few days, I couldn’t even say the word Ironman without crying. I couldn’t even think about my not finishing my dream race. I was so crushed and so disappointed, words cannot express how upset I am/was. In my mind, I was a failure. All those hours of training, sacrificing, and giving up the past year of my life. All the time I missed out on with my husband, family and friends that I cant get back and have nothing to show for it. No medal, no finish line photos, no tears of joy, no hearing those coveted words “You are an Ironman.”
I had a long talk with myself and I realize now that I don’t need any of those things to be an Ironman. I am an Ironman for just attempting to do this race. I am an Ironman for all the training and sacrificing I have done, for all the hours I spent reading about and focusing on this race and for all the effort I put in, I am an Ironman. Maybe it was the life changing experience of just being an Ironman athlete or some newfound inner peace, but I am now able to look back on my experience and my triathlon career and appreciate all the important things it has given me. Without triathlon, I wouldn’t have the discipline I have today or some of my most cherished friends whom I have met on this exciting journey. I realize now that behind my “failure” are dozens of incredible successes I never would have achieved had I not set such a lofty goal for myself. It’s taken me awhile to learn, but now I know that even though I didn’t reach my ultimate goal of completing the Ironman, it was still worth it to aim for the gold.
Will I do it again??? ABSOLUTELY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Christi Kopsidas
I'm running to create a world free of Multiple Sclerosis!
http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/christikopsidas
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