Searching for the Ordinary Man, Ironman Louisville 2008

I completed my first Double Iron triathlon (4.8 mile swim, 224 mile bike, 52.4 mile run) in 1994. At the awards ceremony one of the other finishers asked me what my single Ironman PR was. I replied I did not know for I had yet to do a single Ironman. Five weeks later I completed my first single Ironman, the Great Floridian in the company of friends Kevin Drake, Peter Ross-Gotta, Scott Squires, John Snitko, Chris O’Hara and Richard Anton.

Since that time I have taken part in many more singles, doubles and triples along with my personal love of the multi-sport, the UltraMan Hawaii and UltraMan Canada. The description of their being a three day personal journey only begins to scratch the surface of the experience and energy contained within the 6.2 mile swim, 271 mile bike and 52.4 mile run.

Over the years I have become increasingly disconnected to the sport of triathlon, especially as it relates to the Ironman – now registered trademark of the World Triathlon Corporation – races such as the Great Floridian and Pigman have been told by the behemoth known as the M-Dot that they can’t call their races Ironmans and half – ironmans but rather must call them iron distance and half iron distance races. Whatever.

The quest to become an Ironman has now become so frantic that events fill to a capacity of over 2000 athletes in a matter of minutes a full year prior to the scheduled event. Entry fees have soared to over $550 for some events. It is truly a marketing phenomenon that has left the “ordinary man’ in the dust.

In 1978 John Collins created the original Ironman event on Oahu and a few years later turned the event over to Valerie Silk for no monetary compensation. He did ask in return that he and his family be allowed to race for free in future events and that “they would save a few racing spots for the ‘ordinary man’ because theses were the types of individuals who created the race.”

I have several friends who have qualified for and competed in Ironman World Championships held in Kona. I hold them in the highest regard both as athletes but also as parents, spouses and human beings for they embody fitness as I define it- as the ability to engage in the day to day activities that bring us joy and happiness. They are multi - dimensional people rather than existing only in the Ironman / M-dot plane.

As I became more disconnected from triathlon and especially triathlon in the world of M-Dot I continued to pay my fees and take part in the events. I continued searching for the ordinary man. It is my nature to observe and my observations were not bringing me much in the way of positive energy. Instead I found myself becoming increasingly ill at ease with the whole M-dot business.

In 2005 I dropped from IM Wisconsin during the run. Having completed UltraMan Canada earlier that summer I knew I was physically fit but I was mentally burnt for reasons totally unrelated to triathlon. As I collected my bike and gear there was an overweight man collecting his gear also. I was rather surprised he was in the race and not at all surprised he had dropped. As he left the area he was met by his very pregnant wife and his small son in a stroller. The verbal exchange that followed stunned me as he took out his DNF on his family, ending his comments with “if you did an Ironman you’d understand”.

Let’s take a moment to recap here…it’s been a year of training, juggling work, family and etc. There’s the bike, shoes, special foods and so on. The M-dot races require travel to the event a couple of days prior and you get up pretty freaking early for a 7 am start. Your wife is pregnant, essentially schlepping 2 children around all day, it’s hotter than Hades and you’re talking about understanding? I guess I am not very understanding…of you.

So the Iron Maiden and I went down to IM Louisville this year. As we arrived we saw an awful lot of VEB (Very Expensive Bicycles) being ridden around. Given that according to the Official Race Magazine the average annual income of Ironman athletes is
$161,000.00 USD it came as no surprise. In the hotel lobby we saw all things M-Dot including the tattoo de rigueur, the “M-dot tat”. I have no problem with tattoos, even M-dot tattoos, I know a few people who have them, small, tasteful and yet visible. However what we saw was in increasing numbers was the “ginormus M-Dot tattoo”, the big 3 inch x 5 inch red achievement testimonial for the whole world to see on their shaved calf.

As I checked in for the race I attempted to talk with some of the other athletes. It seemed as few smiled or appeared relaxed and Clar noted the same. We then traveled into the merchandising netherworld known as The Official Ironman Event Store.

The M-dot logo has been successfully applied to every surface known to man beginning with the Timex Ironman watch. People from all walks of life wear these watches. They are great watches, virtually indestructible and reasonably priced. However now the
M-dot is applied to t-shirts for adults taking part in the event, watching the event, thinking about doing the event, beer mugs, stickers, hats, visors, cycling gear, baby strollers, socks and even trailer hitch covers. See it’s not enough to plaster yourself and others with the M-dot logo but also just in case someone did not see the M-dot stickers on your car, the M-dot license plate frame and the “ginormus tattoo” you can put it in your tail end – of your car. It is only a matter of time before Victoria's Secret licenses the M-Dot thong...

However what I saw in The Official Ironman Event Store bothered me the most. A young boy was with his family, the father was taking part in the Ironman Louisville. The son wasn’t happy with the M-dot shirt he had selected a few minutes prior. He wanted a different one. The father got pissed off and said ‘make up your mind” and then cuffed his son up side the head, making the boy cry. Is this what becoming an Ironman is all about?

As my feelings of being a stranger in a strange land grew I became more uncomfortable with the prospect of taking part in event. I looked for Collins’ “ordinary man” and he was nowhere to be seen. I felt if I could only find that “ordinary man”, speak with them, see them smile, I might feel as though I wanted to be part and take part in the event defined by the World Triathlon Corporation as “the ultimate test of mind, body and spirit”.

We left The Official Ironman Event Store and found conversation over some excellent Mexican food. We discussed my feelings of alienation and disillusionment and then went to a book store. Real Mexican food and books, what more does a person need? I mean, besides a good spouse and 2 Gordon Setters…

Upon our return to the hotel we took our place at the elevator bank. A triathlete and his bike came in and rolled in front of us. My wristband was the same color as his, although I was not wearing a shirt proclaiming I was a triathlete and I was wearing baggy green cargo pants but apparently he felt he was first in line as he was doing the Ironman. He rolled his bike back as he waited with us for the next elevator. I placed my foot behind his rear wheel so he would not roll the wheel over Clar’s foot. As she’s not an Ironman her toes are very delicate and fragile.

Upon our returning to the room I discussed with Clar my feelings of disconnection to the Ironman. I decided not to take part. A difficult call when one considers the $500 entry fee I was giving up. However I have come to realize that often the difficult calls that oftentimes give one the greatest insights and returns and allows one to see The Middle Way.

The day of the race we sat outside at Joe’s Crab Shack. A table behind us filed with a family supporting one triathlete looking for a Kona berth. I realized they were tracking their athlete’s progress via computer as well as other athletes in her age group and then calling their athlete via cell phone to tell her where she was as she attempted to get a slot for the “Big Show”. This was foreign to me but sadly did not surprise me in the least.

As we hung out in Louisville – the room was already paid for – we had a great time. I watched the families carry signs they had made their athletes – children played in water falls near the transition and I kept an eye out for the ordinary man. There were some but not very many.

I am often teased for my habit of stopping and talking with Clar in transition areas and taking a moment to give her a sweat enhanced kiss before I go about the race. I would like to think that if I were fast I would take the time to steal a kiss as well. However I often tell those who tease that the race is only a fraction of the experience - as well as our lives and to me it’s worth it. Are we, as Neil Young wonders, so caught up in racing ahead to save time that we forget to feel? Would we not be happier if we were to take the time to strengthen relationships that truly endure?

Today as I write this I feel confused as to where I belong in the sport of triathlon. Like Hesse’s Siddhartha and Nietzsche’s Zarathustra I find myself in search of an answer to my doubts and questioning not only my place in triathlon but also the place of triathlon in the lives of the ordinary man.

Where are you, ordinary man?