Written by Jason Ross,
Just a quick note of thanks to everyone for your well-wishes and support this past weekend. I assure you I could feel it and it made a difference during a very long day!
Well, I completed IM St George in 13.5 hours. Yes, that was 90 minutes slower than hoped, yet I couldn't be more satisfied.
It turns out St George is considered by many to be the most difficult Ironman course on the planet, even more difficult than the World Championships in Kona, Hawaii. (Yes, I said it, as not even Kona's temperatures were worse this year, as St George 2011 was 30 degrees warmer than the inaugural 2010 race. If you don't believe me, ask those people who've done both races and compare their finishing times at each race.) I was absolutely shattered and humbled by this course, and consequently honored beyond words to finish it.
Many of you tracked me during the longer than planned day on Saturday, and even stayed "tuned in" to the live video feed to see me finish much later than planned. I appreciate your patience and interest during the day (and evening), and assure you I thought of you often.
For anyone who may wish to know more, you can read the mini-novel down below. If not, I just wanted to follow-up with this thank you after what was the most challenging day of my life from a physical and mental standpoint. I hope the experience and my shared thoughts before and after will inspire you in some way. (I also hope these emails do not come across in any way as being "self-promoting," which is the absolute last thing I would want.)
From the calls and emails I received in the past few days, I see that a number of you have been inspired to do something in your own life (getting weight under control being the thing I've heard most). That was precisely the aim of my email last week. So, challenge yourself…you just might inspire someone else along the way…
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Race recap:
St George, Utah is an amazing part of the country. It is essentially a high desert and mountain region. The town and area are very clean and raw. The town folks were very welcoming and seemed to genuinely relish hosting the event. And the 4000+ volunteers who made the event possible were the most welcoming and friendly group I've encountered at any event.
Ironman St George by the numbers:
· 1950 people registered, 1588 toed the line, 1310 finished. These numbers are very unusual for an Ironman race, in that most Ironman races sell out and do so months in advance -- usually the day registration opens 1 year in advance. At St George, you could walk up the day before the race and still sign up. I found out why…very few people are as dumb as me!
· My time of 13:32 was good for a glorious 680th place, and 120th place in my Age Group. That's about in the middle of both. Interestingly, it is also about the same as my placing at Ironman Arizona, where I was 90 minutes faster.
Friday morning, the day before the race, I got a call on my cell from the PR person at Ironman. She wanted me to do an interview with a TV station. Great, even more pressure! As if I hadn't put enough pressure on myself to finish by emailing all of you last week. Now let's get this guy to open his mouth on TV and risk failing in front of even more people! In all seriousness, she said they liked what I wrote on my Ironman entry form as to "why" I had entered the Ironman. So I put on my green ProSoap t-shirt, went down to the Ironman media center, and told the story. I was so tired after the race I missed the show, but the station manager said he'd email it to me.
On Friday night before the race, Barry Brooks and I stayed up to watch the Mavs come back and beat the Lakers in Game 3. It was a much needed mental distraction, and about the only time up to that point that we'd managed to sit still. When the game was over, neither of us wanted to go to sleep, as we knew what was coming when we'd wake up…or so we thought.
Race morning: Up at 5 am to eat and suit up. Thanks to fortunate logistical planning on our part, the wives could drop us off ½ mile from the swim start just an hour before the race start! We walked to T1 with our gear to get the blood flowing. There is nothing quite like the electricity and latent energy in the air before an Ironman start. Everyone is in that place for their own reason(s), and the cumulative culmination of motivation, inspiration, and preparation is palpable. Given the suffering that will follow for the next 9 to 17 hours (depending on speed), what is amazing to me is that all of us actually head down into the water to start the Ironman of our own volition—not because someone is forcing us to do or because we are being paid to do it.
With body marking completed and morning clothes bags checked in, we queued up with 1586 of our fellow starters and listened to the National Anthem. After the Pro wave started, the normal humans and I waded into the 58 degree water hearing Martin Solveig's "Hello" pumping from the speakers, while helicopters circled overhead as we treaded water for the deep water start to be signaled by a cannon blast at 7:00 am MST.
The 2.4 mile swim in Sand Hollow was amazing...cold, clear water of a desert reservoir. I felt great, swam great lines, stayed largely out of traffic, and yet was 8 minutes behind schedule coming out of the water. WTHeck? It is bizarre how fast the Ironman swim seems to go by. In training, this distance seems to go forever. I'd swam this distance in 1 hour 7 minutes in training, so I'd hoped to swim it in 1 hour 10 minutes at St George. I felt like I did, so I was surprised to see 1:17:xx on my watch when I exited the water. Oh well, everyone reported a longer swim than planned. Perhaps the water was so enjoyable compared to the heat and sun to come the rest of the day that our collective subconscious' decided to take our time in it.
Lauren was standing at the fence around the transition area near my bike, and it was good to see and chat with her between the swim and the bike course. She's always glad to see that I survived the swim, which at times is basically hand-to-hand combat with the hundreds of people around you. It'd be six hours before I'd see her again.
The 112 mile bike consisted of an initial 20 mile section from Sand Hollow Reservoir into St George proper, followed by two 46 mile loops. The loops proved quite challenging, particularly the second time around as the heat and winds picked up. Overall, the bike course featured 6,000 feet of vertical climbing over 112 miles (my computer said 115 miles, but who is counting at that point). I used a compact crank (50-34) paired with an 11-27 cassette, to ensure I had plenty of gears to spin up the climbs. I highly recommend such gearing for anyone considering this course. I flatted my rear tire about 85 miles in, just before the second time up "the Wall"—a switchback climbing section. I had hoped to break 6 hours on the bike, but came in at 6 hours and 8 minutes. Not too bad considering the lost time from stopping to tend to the flat tire and the fact that I rode several miles on the flat before even realizing I had a flat (which should give you an indication of where I was mentally at that point…not good).
As temperatures rose, my desire to force down needed calories declined. I was 1000+ calories behind schedule coming off the bike. I was also behind on fluids, no matter how much I drank. I paid dearly for this late on the bike and the entire marathon. The 90+ degree temps, full desert sun, arid desert air several thousand feet above sea level, and 20+ mph winds really dehydrated me.
When I dismounted my bike and handed it to a race volunteer, I saw Lauren waiting along the fenceline, and I gladly stopped to talk with her and Krisha Brooks. Naturally, she asked how I was doing, and I told her. She told me afterwards that I looked worse at that point than I had ever looked, I suppose even worse than when she say me at Leadville last year after I'd crashed at 11,000 ft and broken a rib (or two) on the decent from Columbine 6 hours in at the 12 hour mountain bike race. The girls said Barry was probably 5-10 minutes behind me, so I headed off to T2 and figured I'd possibly just wait for him and go from there.
I found my T2 bag and jogged barefoot to the T2 tent to change shoes for the run. I sat down, poured water on myself, and was now thinking very seriously about staying there. I knew I was significantly dehydrated, overheated, and under-fueled. My legs had started to cramp late in the bike, and I had no idea how I'd go out there and do a marathon. So I said a prayer, and decided there was no way I was going to "quit"—especially not after the email I sent last week. I slapped on some more sunscreen (very poorly), and headed outside. About a minute into the run, I saw Barry coming in on the bike, and couldn't wait for him to catch me. We'd joked before the race when we were driving through Vegas that when (not if) Barry caught me on the run, I wanted him to make a dance-club bass-thumping sound in his throat as he passed me. Sure enough, exactly 5 miles in, I hear an esophageal "boom boom boom boom boom." We both laughed so hard it hurt, literally. We ran together for a few minutes, then he pulled ahead. We'd go back to running our own races for the remaining 20 miles.
The 6,000 feet of climbing over 112 miles on the bike wasn't too bad, but 4,000 feet of climbing on the run...in only 26 miles? That was awful! As it turns out, this marathon is either totally uphill or totally downhill, there's nothing flat. I'm glad we did not end up going to St George ahead of time to preview the course, as I might not have gone back to actually do the Ironman. For me, most of the "run" was relegated to a walk, and largely a desperate attempt to keep from falling off the cliff of system shutdown due to depleted sugar levels and hydration. I teetered on the edge of bonking multiple times, and didn't stabilize until the last few miles. I could have run those last few miles, but elected to walk instead. About a half mile to the finish, I caught a 65 year old lady who was finishing up her first lap of the run. I know she was 65 because that's what it said on her leg. Notice I said leg…she only had one. She was a multiple Kona qualifier in the past who'd lost her leg in an accident in recent years. I came up behind her, and offered what encouragement I could by simply telling her she was awesome. (Sadly, she did not finish.)
A few people, including my own son, have asked why I walked thru the finish area and the finish line. In my sugar and water depleted brain, the thought process was as follows: the course had beaten me from a "race" standpoint, and became a battle of survival. Although I felt much better late in the marathon, I did not want the disrespect the course by "galloping" through finish line. Instead, walking all the way thru the finish area was my display of homage to the Ironman course in St George. It also allowed me to really take in the finish experience itself. More memorable, however, was the experience of looking every person in the eye as they were going the other direction just starting the second half of their marathon and encouraging them to keep going.
Physically broken that day, and nearly mentally broken, I've never wanted to quit something so badly. Which is why finishing it is so satisfying. I had a few chats with God along the way. And thoughts of Paul and Red were with me often.
Good news on Paul. He has returned home from the hospital and inpatient neuro rehabilitation for the first time since his heart attack. Sometime soon I plan to give him the race number I wore at St George, which bears his name in the corner. It also bears a small American Flag sticker, as a tribute to the folks in our military for finally finding OBL, and because what I went through on Saturday is likely a pittance compared to the sacrifices they make on a regular basis. Interesting side note, there was at least one (maybe two, but I might have been seeing double) competitor wearing a Marines cycling jersey who was carrying a full size American flag on a pole for the entire marathon. I presume his form of tribute for fallen or injured soldiers. Like I said before, everyone has their own reasons for doing an Ironman.
Many people have asked what's next. Honestly, some time off. I am mentally (and physically) fried from the non-stop training since February 2010 for Leadville 100, then Ironman Arizona, now Ironman St George. I plan to take a few weeks off, then have fun with a few things like the Dirty Rock off-road triathlon with my son in June. None of us really know what's next. I'm just thankful to have once again had the opportunity to participate, and complete, something like this. It is times like these that remind me of the many blessings in my life and what it is like to be "fully alive." When was the last time you were "fully alive?"
Jason M. Ross
General Counsel
GMR Protection Resources, Inc.
5 Horizon Court
Heath, Texas 75032
Direct: 972-772-1264
Main: 972-771-6038 x 126
Cell: 214-636-7404
Fax: 972-722-4748
Email: jason@gmr1.com
This communication is confidential and may contain information that is privileged and/or exempt from disclosure under applicable law. GMR Protection Resources, Inc. expressly reserves all rights. If you are not the intended recipient or authorized to view this information, you are hereby notified that any disclosure, copying, distribution, or use of the information contained herein (including any reliance thereon) is STRICTLY PROHIBITED and may violate privacy rights of the sender and/or intended recipient. If you received this transmission in error, please immediately contact the sender and destroy the material in its entirety, whether in electronic or hard copy format. Thank you.
From: Jason Ross
Sent: Wednesday, May 04, 2011 1:20 PM
To: Jason Ross
Subject: Ironman St. George
This Saturday, May 7, I will attempt to complete Ironman St. George, as most of you know. I would be honored if you would take a few minutes to read this email (but not offended if you press shift+delete instead).
The lure of the Ironman: 2.4 mile Swim, 112 mile Bike, 26.2 mile Run, and try to finish before the time cutoff of 17 hours. Recently, someone asked me "why." I sensed their utterance of "why" was more of "all of that sounds really stupid," as opposed to "please tell me why, I'd really like to know what motivates you."
This Ironman is in St. George, Utah. It presents a significantly more difficult course than my first Ironman in Arizona 6 months ago. Racing at 4,000 feet above sea level with more than 6,000 feet of vertical climbing on just the bike course alone, the Ironman in this venue will probably become known as the most challenging Ironman in the continental United States. Candidly, before signing up, I had never even heard of St. George, Utah. Much to my surprise, St. George is regarded as one of the most scenic and breathtaking locations in the entire United States. (Here is a short clip of St. George to give you an idea of the area: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aZPXg4Z4hgs)
This Saturday, for anyone who may have an interest, you will be able to track me (and my Tri-ProSoap teammate and law partner, Barry Brooks) live throughout the day via the Athlete Tracker online at www.ironman.com or www.ironmanlive.com. Also, you should be able view a webcam of the finish line, which was pretty cool for those who saw it last time. If all goes well, I hope to cross the finish line in under 12 hours, approximately 8 pm Central Time. (Both of these web services are free to view.)
On the eve of this week's race, I am grateful for the blessings and protection thus far to be able to attempt this event. Thank you to Lauren, Brett, Rachel, and other family members who have to deal with me during the ramp ups with all the oddities and demands of the training and schedule. Thank you to co-workers who tolerate the extended lunch time absences for a workout. Big shout-out to the Rockwall Cycling crew at the shop for keeping it running while I'm too busy, well, running or biking or swimming. And thank you to coach Michael Dawdy for again guiding me through what is truly the most difficult part of an Ironman—surviving training and getting to the start line on race day healthy and injury-free.
Oh, and for those who may actually want to know the answer to "why", here goes: Because I am able. Thanks to an undeserved measure of health, support, and resources, I am blessed, at least for this past year, to be able to attempt endurance events that seem extreme and will push the limits of the human body. Many people are not able, in some cases because they fight an array of daily battles I am fortunate enough not to have to face. They fight a battle they were not able to choose. I choose a battle they are not able to fight. After my first Ironman in Arizona last November, I presented the Ironman race number I wore that day to my brother, on which I had written the names of his sons who battle a significant health challenge. This Saturday, I will write the name Paul Shofner--a friend, teammate, and neighbor who miraculously survived a medically unexplained heart attack, but now faces a difficult road of physical, occupational, and speech rehabilitation, and possibly a life with limitations he didn't choose. I also plan to carry the employee ID badge of Charles "Red" Findley, in tribute to our former coworker here at GMR who had a kind and gentle heart but passed away earlier this year from complications of high blood pressure. Selfishly, writing their names provides additional motivation to make it to the finish line…140.6 miles from the starting line. But I also write their names so that, in some way, they cross the finish line too. And in the end, if I (of all people) can do this event, perhaps that can motivate them or others towards their own finish line. Whether we realize it or not, what we do—big or small—influences others. David Swanson influenced me nearly a decade ago to ride a bike, and Kelly Hine and Jonathan Shibley first influenced me to try an entry level sprint triathlon several years later. I have no clue where I'd be with or without that influence, but it certainly wouldn't be precisely where I am today about to toe the line. Challenge yourself, it just might influence someone...
Jason M. Ross
General Counsel
GMR Protection Resources, Inc.
5 Horizon Court
Heath, Texas 75032
Direct: 972-772-1264
Main: 972-771-6038 x 126
Cell: 214-636-7404
Fax: 972-722-4748
Email: jason@gmr1.com
This communication is confidential and may contain information that is privileged and/or exempt from disclosure under applicable law. GMR Protection Resources, Inc. expressly reserves all rights. If you are not the intended recipient or authorized to view this information, you are hereby notified that any disclosure, copying, distribution, or use of the information contained herein (including any reliance thereon) is STRICTLY PROHIBITED and may violate privacy rights of the sender and/or intended recipient. If you received this transmission in error, please immediately contact the sender and destroy the material in its entirety, whether in electronic or hard copy format. Thank you.
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