Talk to any Ironman veteran and the topic of emotions is sure to come up. There is this roller coaster of emotions that one rides during training and racing. I have been there, filled with doubt in the middle of Musselman Triathlon I went on to have one of my best races. You can also ride the roller coaster during training. Whether it is one more f'in hill or snapping at the one you love because your favorite pair of socks are STILL dirty.
Instead of kindergarten, All I Really Need to Know I Learned From Ironman. I've come to realize that as this past weekend was one of the craziest roller coaster rides I have ever been on....and am still on.
Most roller coaster rides allow you to share the fun with someone sitting next to you. I'm lucky enough to have Aimee by my side during my rides. She supported me when I said I wanted to stay in town Friday night for the reunion social. She said she would drive my tired ass down to Louisville Saturday morning.
Friday night was a lot of fun. I was able to re-connect with many people. One of the best things I noticed is that the wonderful people I graduated with 30 years ago are even more awesome now. We shared memories from the past and talked about what our lives are like now. My only disappointment was not seeing people that had shown up and left before I was there. I would not be at the formal Saturday event so I would miss those that would be there.
The rest of the weekend would be shared with Aimee and my triathlon friends at Ironman Louisville. We signed up to be volunteers in the morning changing tent and would then be on the bike and run course cheering for our friends and over 3000 athletes.
We drove down to Louisville Saturday morning to get into the CTC group picture and wish our friends good luck. The rest of the evening was spent with Andrew and Jessica. No matter what we are doing we always have a great time in Louisville.
Sunday morning, similar to Saturday morning, came very fast after staying up too late and getting up early. We got to the transition area around 6AM and were able to see several friends and give them hugs and encouragement for their big day.
We helped collect and sort the special needs bags before our duties in the changing tent began.
In the changing tent we would great the athletes coming in from the swim and help them get ready for the bike. Some athletes didn't need any help while others took their time and welcomed the assistance. I would help someone get their gear in order, struggle with putting a cycling top on, stuffing their pockets with bars, gels, sandwiches and whatever else they needed for the ride. When they were done I would stuff the wetsuit, goggles, swim cap and whatever else into the transition bag and throw it in a corner to be sorted later. It was controlled chaos and I was loving every minute of it.
At one point I took a moment and looked up. I saw a tent full of athletes in varied state of undress, some completely naked, with steam rising off of their warm bodies. I was in a corner helping as many people as I could so I had a good view of the entire tent. It was amazing.
Somehow I managed to see some friends like Jeff Geagan and Chris Martino and missed Christian and Adam. There were so many people that I helped get through the changing tent. However I couldn't help them all.
One athlete came in and sat down on an open chair. He sat there and put his head in his hands. I asked if he was okay. He responded saying he was a little dizzy. I told him to take his time and I would be right back. I returned a couple minutes later and he hadn't moved. Still sitting there with his head in his hands I sat next to him and asked how his swim was. "Okay. I'm just dizzy now." was his response. I didn't want to rush him but I also didn't want him to loose momentum or not be properly prepared for the bike.
I helped him get a jersey on but he just kept sitting back down. Just as I was looking for the changing tent captain to get some medical help an Ironman Staff member walked over and made the call for a doctor. I was able to continue helping other racers but kept an eye on Mr. Dizzy.
I was close enough to hear bits and pieces of the conversation. "I checked my numbers this morning", said Mr. Dizzy. Shit....he's diabetic. "The numbers were odd all week", was another response. Now it was getting serious. The doctor finally said he couldn't let Mr. Dizzy continue. They removed his timing chip and contacted a friend to pick him up.
As a volunteer you try to help everyone have a good race. Unfortunately there are some that you just can't help.
When the last athlete left the changing tent our work continued. We started to pile up all of the bags to hand off to more volunteers who were putting them back in numerical order on the lawn. Aimee was already sorting bags. I also helped with garbage pickup around the bike racks. It was best to clean up the area without the bikes on the racks.
Once we were all done we went back to the volunteer tent to get some food. It was now 11:00 and we were hungry. We started to talk about our changing tent experiences when Aimee told me about the envelope in her jacket pocket. One of the female athletes handed it to Aimee while getting ready for her bike ride.
There were two Starbucks gift cards and a note the choked me up each time I read it. Aimee gave one of the gift cards to another female volunteer she met and shared the story.
Before heading out to the bike course we saw newlyweds Mark and Jen who were getting ready to be bike catchers.
A quick drive out to the bike course put us in the same spot we were at last year. Due to traffic closures we couldn't get to where the majority of CTC IronFans were located. But as soon as I jumped out of the car in my speedo and hat we joined the other fans cheering for the athletes.
We spent about 2.5 hours on the course cheering for Jeff, Brian, Tariq, Desiree, Barb, Elizabeth and Danette. We just happened to miss some of the other people. We had signs like "Shut Up Legs" and "You are all Nucking Futs." A highlight of the day was when a female athlete was riding by and yelled, "Were you at Triple T!!!". I quickly yelled back yes. Of course she recognized me. She saw me three days in a row wearing my hat and speedo on the run course at Triple T.
After we saw Elizabeth a second time it was time to go back to Louisville. We were excited to get onto the run course and cheer louder and closer to our friends. This is when the roller coaster took a sudden dip.
Flashback to Labor Day 2013. Feeling bloated and out of sorts my dad drove himself to the emergency room leaving my mom a note because he didn't feel it was anything serious. He was then transported to the hospital with Stage IV liver cancer. After two years of treatment, and almost normal lifestyle, his options were exhausted. Two years to the day from the original diagnosis he decided to stop all treatment and enter into the program at the Hospice of the Western Reserve. He received weekly hospice care at home for 5 weeks.
Checking my phone I missed a call from my brother. I called him back and was told my dad was transported to the hospice center and they didn't know how long he would last. This is where having Aimee and my co-pilot pays off. My mind was confused and I heard her say, "Go to the hotel. We will get our stuff and drive home." On auto pilot I did as I was instructed and told my mom we were coming home. She said there was a 50/50 chance of me seeing him before he would pass. That was good enough odds for me.
I felt bad leaving my friends behind when I wanted to badly to see them cross that Ironman finish line, but I knew they would understand. They aren't assholes. They are the best people I could be friends with. Once we emptied the hotel room of our luggage we started the 5.5 hour drive home.
I called my son Andrew and told him to sit tight until we knew more about what was happening. Three hours later he called me to say he was leaving to drive home to see his Grandpa. Yep, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree and I didn't blame him. I just wanted him to drive carefully.
Our drive was fairly quiet as we both thought about what we were returning to. Would we be there in time? Is this really happening? When will it end?
We arrived at the hospice center around 8:30PM. My dad had been there about 8 hours so far and they said his condition had stabilized. We were all there supporting my mom and waiting for Andrew to arrive. Aimee went home to get some rest and unpack the car of our bikes and gear...she is my angel.
Andrew finally arrived around 12:30AM. We stayed another hour before leaving my mom with dad.
Monday was a long day of waiting around. The time became magical as we told stories and cheered each other up as only the Gibb Family can. We watched videos of a little girl turning a tissue into a "bird" and recounted how dad wanted a viking funeral (setting him adrift in the canoe and lighting it on fire).
|Actually my dad is cool enough for this.|
After lunch Aimee returned to work while Andrew and I went home to cook lunch. 45 minutes later mom called with the final announcement. Dad had passed away quietly without her hearing a sound. Andrew and I rushed back to the hospice to be with mom and see dad for the last time.
He looked peaceful and as mom said, he never made a sound. Mom had her things packed up and we bid farewell to a most wonderful facility that made my dads last moments comfortable with care that exceeded anything I could have anticipated.
Hard to believe the roller coaster ride started 90 hours ago. At this point I don't really know when the ride will end. I know there are many ups and downs still yet to come. I have shared his passing in my own special way and the response from friends has been the most supportive.
So I relate this roller coaster ride to something I understand, Ironman. In both situations there will be ups and down. Sometimes you never know when those dips will occur. But no matter what, you always ride it out because change is just around the corner and it is bound to get better.
All I know is that I am happy to share this ride with a great family, fantastic friends and Aimee sitting with me in the front row of the first car. I only wish that I had asked my friends to join me on this roller coaster two years ago.
Regardless, I'm still one lucky guy.