Can you say fantasy island? Yes, I just lived it. Albeit there was no Tattoo or Mr. Roarke-just a couple of blazingly fast gazelles in the form of 3 time Ironman World Champion Peter Reid and 2 time Ironman World Champion Tim DeBoom. No tropical island with a short, funny guy ringing the bells, yelling "de plane, de plane", just a 26.2 mile stretch of the world's best urban jungle filled with people banging thundersticks and yelling encouragement. No cocktails with umbrellas here, just water, Powergel, and sports drink. This was my pro sports fantasy camp experience.
My wife and I were at packet pick up for the ING NYC marathon when I heard the public address speaker announce that Powerbar was sponsoring a giveaway that included the chance to be paced by Ironman world champions. I competed in the 2005 Ironman World Championships (while using 7 Power gels and 3 Powerbars) and knew of Tim and Peter so I was very excited to enter the contest and made a beeline straight to the Powerbar booth. I completed the entry form, dropped it in the box and thought nothing of it. We hydrated by trying the new Powerbar drinks (which were quite pleasant) and then left to check out other booths at the expo. We were walking back to the hotel and my cell phone rang. Much to my surprise it was David with Powerbar announcing that I had won the contest. I screamed. I think he now has hearing impairment. He asked, "So do you want to do it?" I screamed. Afterward, I said, "I think you can tell from the screaming that I totally want to do it. Are you kidding me? I know these guys, of course I want to do it!" With that, I had committed to run the marathon while being paced by guys that run 2:40 marathons AFTER swimming 2.4 miles and biking 112 miles. Don't get me wrong, I was totally excited, but a little nervous. After all, these are Ironman World Champions. I am an orthodontist. These are pro athletes. I straighten teeth. These guys ride and run with the whole purpose of dropping others off the back. I make beautiful smiles. These guys make others wince in pain.
Adding to the nerves, was my preparation-or should I say lack of preparation. My "A" race this year was a cycling road race. The longest one day stage race in the USA is from Logan, Utah to Jackson Hole, Wyoming and covers 206 miles. In training for the road race I had ridden hard all summer, but no running. In fact my running sabbatical lasted from May 27 until September 10. After the road race on September 8, in which I won my category in a sprint finish (and feasted upon many Powerbars during the 9 hrs. 33 min. race), people would ask what I was going to do next, and I said, "Well, I guess I better start running." With that my running training commenced.
My wife, Kami, was just as excited that I had won and expressed supreme confidence in me-even though I wasn't so sure. The rest of the walk back to the hotel we were giddy like high school kids that just got asked to prom by the "in" crowd. We were walking on clouds of happiness on the island of Manhattan.
On Saturday, we made arrangements with the Powerbar crowd to meet up again at the expo and cover last minute details. Talk about a bunch of cool people. They were all so nice and so friendly that I lost all nerves of apprehension and thought that this would be a blast. We made arrangements to meet Tim DeBoom in the hotel lobby at 5:30 am on race morning and take a VIP bus to Staten Island-ooh la la. The VIP tent in the athlete village was nice and warm which was a welcome relief on a brisk, but beautiful morning. This was a far cry from my Boston experience in 2002 where I remember laying supine on the blacktop in Hopkington trying to stay warm and trying to find shelter from the elements while waiting hours for the start. This was a first class way to start the NYC marathon.
Somewhere along the bus ride, I started thinking-man this is taking a long time, we have been on this bus forever. That means we have to run this far back. That is the problem with point to point marathons. The bus ride reminds you just how long 26.2 miles really is.
Tim DeBoom was awesome. He was so cool and so down to earth that it was like he was the neighbor next door. Well, the neighbor next door that is an Ironman World Champion and could kick your butt in any cardiovascular activity. (Plus, he has a great wife with a killer line of female athletic clothes.) We got to the starting area and waited and waited. Just enough time to allow the butterflies to start. I started thinking of my poor preparation-usually I prefer a 16 week or at least a 12 week marathon training program. No such program this time. Maybe thru diffusion, Tim could impart some of his awesome VO2 max. While daydreaming this absurd fantasy, the gun went off and I said, "Well, I guess we have to run this thing."
After the gun went off, we started the controlled process of walking like cattle-- shoulder to shoulder and stomach to spine, all 40,000 of us to the starting line. See, where you wait to start is not really the start line-that line is waaaay up there. After the gun goes off, you walk to the start and then start running. We walked to the starting line, Tim started his watch, and we were off. The first mile is slightly uphill over the bridge and I could feel the uphill climb, but being from Colorado, it did not seem too bad. I tried to run at a controlled pace and not allow the race excitement to force me into a 5:30 mile pace-first mile split was 7:10 so mission accomplished. We ran on the lower level of the bridge and the view was awesome. I loved looking at the Manhattan skyline, the Statue of Liberty, the FDNY boat spraying jets of red, white, and blue water. We got over the summit of the bridge and the pace quickened. As we continued running the splits were very fast. I expected mile 2 to be fast because of the bridge downhill, but the splits stayed fast for the next several miles. Finally, I said to Tim, "I think this whole section is downhill. Doesn't this road look like it has a slight downhill?" I am not sure he was convinced, but we kept up the pace. I was feeling great. How can you not feel great to be running with an Ironman world champion? I knew the pace was probably slow for him and I apologized for the pace and told him to think of it as a long slow recovery run. We chatted along the way, like friends out for a training run. The conversation flowed easily and smiles came readily. I loved introducing my celebrity running partner. It was like show and tell at school and I had the best show and tell of the entire class. "Ever heard of the Hawaii Ironman?" I would ask an unsuspecting runner. "Well, this is Tim DeBoom, 2 time Ironman World Champion! And he is running with me today." That made me feel like a million bucks.
Tim had started the race with a Powergel (vanilla flavor) in his hand. I thought it odd to run with a gel in his hand, but he had explained that it was good form to make sure his fists were not clenched too tight because if they were too tight it would be one sticky mess in his hand. At mile 8 he insisted that I take the gel. I had never taken a gel that early in a marathon before, but if Tim DeBoom insists, then you take it. He did go to West Point so he knows how to give orders. The gel went down easily (the vanilla consistency is always easy going down) and I felt even perkier. Man, the miles were just rolling away. I love being in that zone where the miles just blend together and I am not searching for mile markers. not looking for distance validation, not begging for a mile marker.
Tim was a gentleman throughout the entire first 13 miles. He would always offer to get me water, gatorade or anything. He wanted to make sure that I was comfortable, hydrated, and strong. I was all of the above at the half way point. My first half split was very fast 1:22:18. A smile crept over my face as I thought maybe I could PR. That was not a goal coming in because NYC is not known as a good course to set a PR (in fact the winning times are usually 5-6 minutes off world record times), I had not trained as fully as normal, and NYC was not my "A" race this season. This was to be my fun race-not really a race to be raced, but a race to be enjoyed and experienced. But, what if I was getting a boost from having Tim pace me, what if I was really running in the zone, what if I could PR? My PR was 2:50:30 set back in 2003 and I was clearly on pace to smash that. I was loving this marathon.
At mile 13.8, we had a pre-arranged transition spot where I would say fond farewells to Tim and I would pick up Peter Reid for the stretch run to the finish. I thanked Tim profusely, wished him well and started looking for Peter. I saw him and yelled, "Hey, Peter Reid!!" He didn't start running with me right away so I slowed. He told me to keep running and he would catch up-of course he would catch up. He was famous for running guys down in the Kona race. He would come off the bike in second or third and just mow guys down on the run course on his way to 3 Ironman World Championships. In fact, I had been pulling for him in 2005 because it was his last race and I really admired him. My wife probably cheered as much for Peter in that race as she did for me. She remembers yelling "Catch him, Peter" at mile 22 as he tried valiantly to reel in Ferris Al-Sultan in 2005. Obviously, he was a great competitor and a fantastic ambassador for triathlon.
Actually, the transition area did not go as smoothly as a lightning fast T1 in Kona. Somewhere along the way, Peter had forgotten his race bib, so he had to wait for Tim to un-pin his bib and transfer it to him so as not to appear like a bandit on the course. He only got one pin in and started running so he had this flapping bib the whole race.
Now we are on the course running together and here is Michael sprinting up alongside us to get photos. Mind you, he is in jeans and a jacket, etc. and toting a camera. He would take a picture and then do a wind sprint up to another point, snap the shot and repeat. After about three wind sprints, he had had enough and waved goodbye.
I knew Peter would be slightly more intense-after all I have the DVD "What it Takes". My wife had warned me not to talk with him about the DVD because their portrayal of him was not the most flattering in some aspects. But, I found him to be very personable and chatty and I think that DVD missed him for what he really was-A guy who thought he was not as naturally gifted as others and had to make up for it thru training isolation and sheer determination.
Peter was excited to tell me that Lance as in Armstrong was only about 100 yards ahead of me. I was excited to hear this. I had wanted to try and run with Lance, in fact I was even wearing my maillot jaune-which is not a really comfortable running shirt by the way. I was going to tell him that he should sign my jersey because I had ridden up all 21 switchbacks of Alpe d'Huez in 49 minutes this summer-never mind that he did it in like 37 minutes. I was still very proud of my 49 minute effort and I thought it worthy of an autograph from him. We kept an eye on him for the next several miles, but I was never able to bridge the gap. Like the cyclist that can never bridge the gap to the breakaway, that was me and Peter, or at least me. Peter could probably have bridged the gap at any point in time.
At mile 18, I was excited to see the Powergel station-it was like a buffet of Powergel. They had every flavor lined up nicely and orderly like your favorite restaurant. Right now, this was my favorite restaurant. I was feeling strong, but I wanted some more calories because this engine needed more fuel. I took Vanilla first and downed it right away with water. I took a Chocolate and carried it in my hand for a later time, for a more bleak time, for a "break glass in emergency" situation.
At about mile 19, our Lance dreams came to an end as Peter and I both had to go the bathroom. Urinating during a race is always such a challenge-you feel the urge, the bladder feels enlarged, but then it becomes a battle between the sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems. You have been in total "fight or flight" mode for the last 2 hrs and now you want to relax the sphincters. Are you kidding me? Boy, is the body confused! After some time it was mission accomplished and we were back in business.
All the catchy slogans talk about the last 6.2 miles of the marathon. The first 20 are the warm up, the real race is the last 6.2, etc., but I just say that the last 6.2 always suck. Peter was quick to remind me of this. He kept repeating how the last 3 miles were very difficult on this course and we should conserve. I was trying to conserve, I was also trying to keep running.
I had told Peter of my new found goal of breaking 2:50 and setting a PR. Like a NASA scientist he had figured out the math and the splits needed to keep me on pace. It was like in Apollo 13 with the controlled burn calculations, except this burn was not very controlled, it was everywhere. I was starting to hurt.
At about mile 22 I was looking for any magic bullet to help me keep moving forward and I popped the other Powergel. It seemed to help with the energy and gave me a boost, but the body was beginning to hurt-probably from a lack of base miles and minimal tolerance for all the pounding.
Along the way we turned onto 5th Avenue and headed south along the west border of the park. As we ran this stretch of road, everything seemed to be uphill and it felt like a headwind. That's when I knew I was in trouble. Gone were the easy miles of tailwind and slight downhill. Peter volunteered to have me tuck in behind his shoulder to shield me from the headwind, which I gladly did. That was very kind of him. Again, having the help of a World Champion pacer definitely helped me. I don't know if there was a true headwind or just an imaginary headwind-maybe the air was getting more difficult to propel myself forward thru, but having a singular goal of focusing on Peter's shoulder did seem to help as I plodded along. For most of 5th Avenue I just focused on Peter's shoulder and tried to keep moving forward with him-hoping that we could form a paceline or slipstream that would magically pull me along. He was awesome during this stretch because he would have me check my shoulders (lower them), have me shake out my arms (get out the stress), inhale deeply (fill the lungs), and have my belly button out in front of my shoes (controlled fall forward). This really helped for a couple of reasons, but above all it helped me focus on something other than the pain and distracted me from looking for mile markers (that never seemed to come soon enough).
After what seemed like forever, we eventually turned into the park and that's when I really felt it. It was a diffuse pain that was everywhere and would be alternately concentrated on the left and right side depending on the stride side. The hills began in earnest at this moment. Up until now the pace had been uncomfortable, but I was still moving forward just enough to insure that I was going to PR. The first hill came and I slowed noticeably such that Peter opened up a gap on me, he turned and slowed and instructed me to, "keep the legs moving like pistons." I complained about how much I was hurting and how sore I was. He replied, "When you are an Ironman it hurts," not so much in disgust, but rather in a tone that implied I should know and expect the pain-I was an Ironman after all. He just kept encouraging me and imploring me to relax, as I was probably wound just as tight as possible. On the downhill he coached me to let the legs relax and just move forward freely-this seemed to help, but I knew we had more uphills which tempered any jubilation I had about the downhill. After a couple of more hills following this same routine-Peter holds pace, Gary falls off pace, Peter implores Gary to keep pace, Gary winces in pain, Peter slows just enough and shouts encouragement-we turned on the South Park Drive and headed toward Columbus Circle. I had been on that road and it never seemed this long. Not only was it long at that point, but it was very uphill with what seemed to be a 6% grade. My word, they need switchbacks on this road I thought.
At Columbus circle I started to see the signs indicating the countdown in meters. This was a welcome sight for sore eyes. I gave a little acceleration, very little I am sure, and headed straight for the FINISH sign. I crossed the line with the official clock reading 2:51 and I knew I had set a PR because I had a 2 minute differential between race clock and chip time. I gave Peter a big high-five and a heart felt pat on the back. He had been outstanding and was definitely a big reason I set a PR. I was very grateful for the help, the encouragement, the tough love. We shared good times together and we shared rough patches together (mostly my rough patches), but it was sheer joy at that moment because I had outperformed my initial goal and accomplished something I thought was next to impossible.
We mingled for some time and just continued chatting like old friends as we moved to claim our bags and that is when it really sunk in, this had been an outstanding day. I had set a PR (on a difficult course), and I had run with 2 Ironman World Champions. I had a Powerbar recovery bar, which tasted really good, by the way, and the recovery started.
Tim and Peter were my pro sports fantasy camp athletes and I could not have been luckier. They were so perfect: personable, outgoing, gregarious, hospitable, and not to mention smooth, effortless runners. I had a great time running with them and I hope they had a good time as well. My sincere thanks and gratitude go out to the entire Powerbar team that was at the race for making this a most memorable weekend.
Gary M. Holt
Littleton
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