Michelle is an IRONMAN

How do you pick one photo to sum-up an ~20 hour day when your best friend is running an Ironman? You can't really, it's impossible. But I think this shot of her running to the finish line, well after dark, just before the midnight cut-off in fact, sums up my relief and joy for the 20 hour day.

I was out of bed a little after 4 AM, at my swim-watching post by 5:15 AM. She had a great swim and we were able to wade out into the water to cheer her back in. We didn't get to see her on most of the bike course (it's 112 miles afterall) but we were waiting on top of the last mountain climb in the full sun in the middle of the day to cheer her (and 2600 of her competitors) on. By this point, we were tired, hot, sore, in danger of being sunburned and our voices were hoarse. They were probably in better shape than we were! But, we still had a marathon to go cheer for.

After a few short pit stops back at the house for food, drink, and a short one-hour nap, we went out to cheer her on in the marathon...and that's really where the Ironman is just beginning. I have cheered for several NY Marathons and I have run the marathon once myself so I didn't expect the scene that unfolded in front of me for the Ironman. My marathon was hard, sure, but it ultimately was a celebration of fitness and something I really enjoyed doing all the way through. This was like a world-wide-zombie war had broken out and, you couldn't tell if these people were the zombies or the shell-shocked survivors. Almost everyone (near Michelle's pace, we didn't get to see the "winners" who turn in marathon times better than regular people can do in stand-alones) walks because that's all they can hack. Their brains aren't working from hours of nutritional deficiencies. They can't think straight, they just know they have to keep walking in a straight direction until they can't any more. And Ironman has strict rules about no "outside interferance" so even though you desperately want to help, you can't run along side to chat with your friend, motivate, pace them, keep them going. All I could do was watch and cheer even though I desperately wanted to jump in and pace her for the whole damn marathon if I had to.

The other real kicker about the Ironman is that it has a midnight deadline. No exceptions. The end. If you don't cross the finish line before midnight, it doesn't count. It doesn't matter if you were one mile away. It doesn't matter if you were 500 feet away. It's absolutely heart-breaking after a year of your life, thousands of dollars, and a 17 hour day of busting your ass racing. For the spectators, you have to stand there watching the big giant clock tick up to midnight knowing you can't do a goddamn thing to help or make your friend (husband, wife, parent, etc) get there any faster. I wasn't prepared for the insane amount of stress of waiting at the finish line just praying she would make it. We fought our way down into the chute just so we could be there at the big moment even though she wouldn't be able to see or hear us and I knew that official race photographers would be there to take her picture. And then, we waited. And waited. And waited. You can't see down the course because it's pitch black dark. You just have to wait for your runner to emerge out of the darkness and finally make their way in. I began to just scream down into the darkness "Come on, Michelle! Get your ass in here! Pick it up! Let's go!", entirely for my benefit of letting off fear and stress and anxiety. Finally, I saw her and I knew she was going to make it! She could barely shuffle in to the chute but she managed to high five some people along the way and I grabbed her picture.

It is, by far, not the best picture I took all day. But, for me, it does bring a fitting close to a very stressful day that took, 16:47. I am so proud of her. I think she's crazy but I am so proud.