Ironman Texas: A Volunteer Story, Part II

Even though I wasn't racing today, I felt every bit a part of the inagural Ironman Texas and had an amazing time. I wasn't scheduled to work my shift until 5:30pm, so I had planned to get up early and go see the swim start. Unfortunately I overslept, but made it to the transition area before athletes started coming back in off the bike. Just for a visual comparison of how many athletes were competing, check this out:

       

A total of 2164 athletes finished the swim and headed out on the bike course. Later in the day, I heard from a lot of IM veterans that the swim start was even more ridiculously crowded than any they've ever had before. The general consensus was that it took at least 1/4 - 1/2 mile before anyone could find open water to swim in where they werent on top of each other like sardines. 

The weather was surprisingly predictable today in that it was hot and humid. When the wind would come through, the 89F temp and 80% humidity were bearable. When there was no wind, it might have well have been a sauna. Just standing still, I was soaking wet with sweat. I could only imagine that the athletes were a little cooler since they were moving on the bike.

Just before noon, the men's leader on the bike, Chris Lieto, came back into transition to a pretty raucous crowd for so early in the day. He had a monster ride finishing in about 4:10. Crazy!

After Chris came in I headed toward the finish line to the volunteer check-in, and then went back to my car to cool off for a while before beginning a 10.5 hour shift at the finish line. Volunteer shirts were color coded: swim = gray, bike handlers = pink, iron team/general staff = green, finish line = purple, medical = red, and security = black. Quantity of purple shirts I now own that I will probably wear again? One.

A lof of people know The Voice of the Ironman, Mike Reilly. His brother Pat was the captain of our finish line volunteer group and did a great job leading his purple army of volunteers. With 75 signed up for each of the 3 shifts, he was responsible for making sure everyone knew what to do and was trained properly.

The first runner wasn't expected to come in to the finish until after 3pm, so there was still alot to set up at the finish line. I spent 30 minutes filling coolers with ice and water bottles, another 30 setting up finishers' hats and shirts, and another 30 getting medals ready to be handed out. The most active volunteer position is the line of "catchers." The job is exactly what it sounds like: when a runner crosses the line, you catch them before they fall to the ground and help them through the finisher's chute on their way to the medical tent or release them to family members. Once you're done, you run back in line and wait your turn to do it again.

  





Somehow, I was the first volunteer in line when the winner came through: Eneko Llanos from Spain. He finished in just over 8 hours and looked like he could've gone back out for more when he was done. I was paired with another volunteer and we escorted Eneko to the media trailer where he was interviewed by Greg Welch for IronmanLive.com, then to a media table where he gave interview after interview, signed autographs, and basically was the opposite of what you'd think the winner of an Ironman would be like. Imagine you just swam 2.4 miles, biked 112 miles, and ran 26.2 miles. Are you going to want to talk to hundreds of people and be charming and humble and high five kids and sign autographs? Me neither. This man definitely earned my respect.

While on the "media circuit," I snapped a couple pics of the top 3 male finishers: Eneko Llanos (ESP), Tim O'Donnel (USA), Luke Bell (NZD)



  

After the pros stopped coming in, my phone died and I wasn't able to take any more pictures. But the memories of the day are sure to last a long long time. I was at the finish line for the very first finisher just after 3pm all the way to the last finisher just before midnight. I helped about 50 people over the course of the day; some still walking under their own power, some collapsing the second after they crossed the finish line and whisked off in a wheelchair to the medical tent, some first time Ironmen, some that have done over 25. Though every one was different, all of them were appreciative and friendly.

The feeling of crossing a finish line is indescribable. The feeling of being on the other side of it and watching people achieve their dreams: inspiring.