My very own Ironman.

Six years ago, back when Luis and I were first dating, he mentioned that he was interested in doing a triathlon. The idea was completely foreign to me, but I figured that if he was interested he should go for it. There were two small obstacles in the beginning; he didn’t own a bike, and he couldn’t swim. (That is to say, he couldn’t competitively swim. He could get from one side of the pool to the other, but not in any way conducive to racing.) He remedied these little barriers quickly; he bought himself a shiny red road bicycle, and I, as a former (albeit mediocre) member of my high school swim team, helped him with the swimming basics. He was on his way.
Later that year I remember us watching the Ironman Hawaii on television at his apartment one evening. I gawked at the impossible distances these people were covering, thinking how crazy they must be. I mentioned this to Luis, and he just nodded vaguely, captivated by the contenders on the screen.

The next spring I went with him to his first race, somewhere in Missouri. It was a small race - maybe thirty or so participants, and it was a shorter sprint distance triathlon. We arrived early in the morning, and I watched as he and the other competitors set up their transition spots and prepped all of their equipment. I could feel the excitement in the air, but I didn’t really get it. Aside from the racers, there were only a small number of people there – no cheering crowds, no fancy photographers, no trophies. I didn’t understand the appeal at all.
The race got off to a good start. I watched as Luis finished the swim and set out on his bike, cheering him on and taking his picture as we went by. When the other cyclists began to return to the transition area, I started looking out for Luis on his bike. He didn’t show up for some time, and I started wondering if something had happened. A bit later the rescue vehicle came back with a bike and cyclist in tow – unfortunately, Luis’s tire had blown, and his spare tube also had a small hole. After realizing he couldn’t fix it out on the course, he had no choice but to accept a ride back to the race start. Undeterred by the fact that he could no longer ‘officially’ finish, he swapped out his cycling shoes for running shoes and set back out to run. From right then, it was clear how driven he was to continue in this sport.

Fast forward five years. Since that rocky but determined starting race, he’s competed in probably fifteen triathlons, finishing all of them. His name has moved steadily higher in the list of finishing times. He has done longer and longer races. It’s progressed from ‘can I?’ to ‘how far can I go?’ Last year, he competed in his first Half Ironman, or Ironman 70.3. He approached the finish line, not weak or delirious as I had half-worried, but smiling and in great spirits.

This afternoon Luis and I will pack up the car and head to Harrison Mills, British Columbia, where Luis will compete in his first Ironman triathlon. He’s excited and nervous, but he has prepared himself well for what is sure to be a grueling test of endurance. Hundreds of hours he’s spent, running, biking, and swimming his way to this goal. He trained through the freezing winter and into the blistering summer heat. He trains when he wants to, and when he doesn't want to. He is more dedicated than anyone I have ever met. I have confidence that he will finish the race strong.

After having run a couple of road races myself, I finally understand the race day excitement. It’s not about medals or glory, and for most of us, it’s not even about winning. It’s about challenging yourself. It’s about doing things you didn’t know you could. It’s about being with others who share a passion for something you love, for something you do. It’s amazing.

They say that 5% of the population is capable of a half marathon (13.1 miles of running). One tenth of one percent of the population will finish a marathon (26.2 miles). What percentage do you suppose is capable of finishing the 140.6 total miles of an Ironman? 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bicycle, 26.2 mile run.

I’m ridiculously proud of what he’s doing.