2007 IMWI Volunteer/Sherpa Report Part 2

I have no idea how Ironman hopefuls sleep the night before a race, because just as a volunteer I tossed and turned all night with anticipation. My watch alarm went off, predictably, just as I'd finally dozed off, forcing me to drag my groggy self out of bed and face the 5-am-ness of it all. Even though it's ridiculous o'clock to me, I knew on Ironman race day that sleeping until 5 was a lazy man's luxury and that a lot of folks had long since arrived at Monona Terrace.

I got parked in the limited access volunteer lot with no trouble and made my over to the Terrace. I couldn't help stopping for a moment to stand in the still-being-constructed finisher's chute, imaging the day I'll have my chance to run it for real.


Leaving the chute and heading for the Terrace I bumped into Wendy, watching with envy while she got a steaming hot cup o' coffee. (I know it's perfectly safe to have a cup or two once in a while, but the day was already going to be logistically challenging enough with a baby stomping on my bladder every 20 minutes, so I figured throwing caffeine into the mix would be the epitome of stupid.) Then we walked and chatted our way to the Terrace, parting ways at the entrance to head for our predetermined Iron Sherpa Swim Leg Picture Taking Posts.

Because I was wearing a crew shirt I knew I could cut through the building, where I had every intention of taking what I think of as the "pregnant priviledge" and using the real bathrooms instead of the public porta-potties.

What I didn't realize - because I'd slept in last year with a nasty chest cold and missed the swim start - was that the reason they keep people out of the building before the swim is that the athletes turn the halls into one giant transition area.

I weaved my way in and out of the masses of fit, neoprene-clad bodies, keeping my head down, trying to look like I belonged there and feeling more than a little bit guilty for being in their space. As luck would have it my illegal jaunt brought me face to face with our team, who had just lined up for a group shot. I couldn't get my camera out in time to catch the team posed together, but I managed to get a couple of individual pictures and a few quick hugs before they headed down to the water.

Simply Stu displaying his typical exuberance.

Iron Wil looking more than ready to go, accompanied by the uber-cool Mr. Wil.

Around 6:30 I joined the mass of athletes migrating towards the swim start. I quickly realized the spot I'd originally planned to take pictures from wasn't precisely on the swim exit like I'd thought, but I decided to work it out later. Because I noticed this poor, lone security guy trying vainly to keep a path clear for the athletes being blocked from the side entrance to the swim start by hordes of oblivious spectators intent on forcing their way to the fence to get a good view. So I - and shortly after that another off-duty volunteer - set ourselves up along the path and spent the rest of the time before the cannon waving in athletes who should have already been in the water (many of whom simply couldn't see the entry due to the crowds), firmly shooing spectators out of their way, and explaining to confused spouses clutching morning clothes bags to where they could drop them off.

In between guiding grateful athletes and getting dirty looks from pushy family members who didn't seem to believe me when I informed them they could not actually go into the swim chute, I managed to notice the glorious sunrise. And, of course, get all choked up as it hit me where I was and how happy I was all these amazing people were granted such a beautiful day for this race.

Perfect Ironman sunrise.

TriBoomer was one of the athletes who happened to pass by while I worked this impromptu volunteer post, and I managed to get a quick hug and picture before he hit the water.

TriBoomer looking ready to go!

Then came the National Anthem, and more happy tears hidden behind my sunglasses. I couldn't help thinking about how lucky we all are to have been born here, and to have lives so full of blessings that we can freely choose to spend our time doing what we do, and in doing so make our privileged lives even better.

And then the cannon fired.