Iron-Crazy!

It's been about a week since I returned from seeing the Ironman qualifier in Lake Placid. It's difficult to wrap the entire Iron-fan experience into a nice package with a tidy bow on top. Everyone should experience seeing this event at least once in their lifetime. 2.4 mi swim, 112 mi bike, 26.2 mi run. Yep, that's 140.6 grueling miles in one day. No joke.

Paul, Joel, K-Ron, Burnser and I showed up in LP late Saturday afternoon just in time to surprise Kev before the big pre-race dinner. Lisa chose a great resto right on the lake and we essentially took over the joint for a few hours. I'd venture a guess that we had the largest Iron-fan crew up there ... well over 20 people. Although he was happy to see everyone, I could tell Kev was nervous and not really "present", per se. If you were just about to voluntarily put your body through 140+ miles of pure hell, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be thinking about anything else, either. We left him around 7pm, at which point we went to sample some local LP nightlife while Kev went to stare at his motel ceiling for the next 8 hours.

After a 5:30am wake-up call, we made our way down to the starting line on the shore of the lake. That provided me with one of the weekend's top 2 images ... steam hovering above the lake, making only the mountain tops visible. What a way to start the morning! We managed to see Kev briefly before he joined the parade to the swim start. Seemed in good spirits, but who wouldn't be after downing 2 Buttermilk Eggos top o' the mornin!?! After getting clocked in the chin underwater a few times, he came out of the water a few minutes after the hour mark, at which point we sprinted to see him hit the bike for the first 56 mi. loop. Yes, 56 miles.

We headed into town to grab some grub/coffee and just relax until he came back from the first loop. Farls looked good coming through town and even managed to catch Paul and Burnser asleep at the wheel. Good work, guys. After seeing him come through on the second loop, we cruised over to the other side of the Olympic Oval to see him get off the bike and embark on the run. He was in 15th f'ing place (in his age group - arguably the most competitive) after the bike, which would have given him a Kona spot. God knows I would have needed an ambulance at that point, but Ford was all business.

The next 3+ hours were going to be the most important of the day, if not the year. A bunch of us made our way down to River Road - out by the old Olympic Ski Jump - to lend Kev all the support we could muster up for the excrutiatingly lonely marathon. The run course is a 13.1 mi loop, so if you plan everything out well enough, you can see your athlete 4 times over the course of the 3 hrs, which we did. I can't say that we got much of a reaction from him (even K-Ron flashing him and Paulie mooning him didn't work), but we chalked it up to being in the zone. We hustled back into town to see Farls cross the finish line 10.5 hours after wearily wading into the lake at 7am. You could cut the collective emotion at the finish line with a butter knife. "Kevin Farley ... YOU are an Ironman!"

We couldn't be prouder of Farley. His incredibly high level of dedication, sacrifice, mental toughness, drive, competitiveness and sheer will is mind blowing and admirable. We should all be so lucky to have half of that mix. On top of all that, and perhaps most impressive, Kev still manages to maintain a positive outlook day in and day out and never loses sight of the most important aspects of his life. I asked him a few days after the race if he was finding it difficult, after returning to NYC, to tell friends, acquaintances and colleagues that he didn't grab a Kona spot. He replied, "No, not at all. That's just the risk one takes when you choose to share your goals and dreams with the world". That's just one example of the solid perspective that he maintains, even days after the race. Thanks for sharing your dreams with us, Kev ... you da man!

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PS - After decompressing around the finish line and grabbing some pizza in town, a small handful of folks made it back to the finish line around 10pm. Each year, hundreds of people come back to the finish line for the last 2 hours of the race (the race shuts down at midnight) to frantically cheer on the last remaining competitors that are willing themselves to the finish line. The scene is unreal! Apart from a few flood lights, it's pitch dark. The bleachers were packed - standing room only - with people dancing, singing, yelling and cheering on the remaining athletes. A DJ is spinning crazy music and the Iron-MC (who does each of the 12 qualifiers every year) is announcing everyone as they enter the Olympic Oval and generally encouraging the crowd to go nuts! As the stragglers enter the oval, they grab their kids/babies and wives/husbands to join them for the last 100 yard dash. Seeing them cross the finish line together is one of the more emotional parts of the day to which no picture or blog entry could ever do justice.