I will never forget my first triathlon. I raced with my sister (also a first-timer) and my sister-in-law (an Ironman.) My entire family came out to support me. I saw my sisters on the course and I received cheers from my family throughout the race and again at the finish line. On a high from being a first time triathlete, I decided that it couldn't get any better than this.
Fast forward 12 months to August 2012. I was racing my first Half Ironman with a large number of Atlanta Triathlon Club teammates, many who were first timers as well. The support from my teammates, both racers and spectators, was more than I could have imagined. As I got out of the water, there was a huge cheer crew yelling my name and cheering louder than ever. We had a smaller cheering station midway out on the bike course and a large crowd on the run course. Their support helped make this race spectacular. This was my day and they made sure I knew it. I was the last one from ATC on the course and it had started raining pretty hard. As I ran through the finisher’s chute, there were about 10 people giving high fives. They were all in raincoats and holding umbrellas, but they stuck it out to give me that experience that I will never forget - being part of a team.
After a few years of disappointing performances due to lack of motivation to train, I decided to dedicate my 2016 season to being a sherpa and a spectator. This season may have been my favorite yet with sherpaing for 2 Half Ironmans and 1 Full Ironman, and spectating/volunteering for 2 Ironmans and a handful of shorter triathlons and running races. I figured that I would share my experiences at 3 of my favorite races as well as a few things I learned along the way.
As a spectator, my time is my own and I get to just have fun. This usually involves dressing up in costume, spraying silly string at friends, tailgating, and having the uncanny ability to track racers. It is a thrill to have two phones open, both hooked up to extra battery packs, while trying to figure out when everyone is coming by. Once you have a potential timeline, a phone goes in one hand for documenting the day, and the cowbell goes in the other.
When I spectated at Ironman Mont Tremblant, I spent most of the day alone. It sounds boring, but it was an amazing experience. There is something about standing in the pouring rain with a raincoat and shorts for 2 hours, freezing your tush off, waiting for every teammate on the bike course just so you can scream their name while they pass by in a blur of color. As other spectators came and went, I chatted with them about who they were waiting for and how their day was going. I had signed up to volunteer at the finish line as a catcher and I was very excited to experience it this way. Anytime I heard an ATC member's name being called out, I ran to the front of the line to catch my friends. Some of them I had to steal from other catchers, but others I was jumping up and down screaming for them when they crossed that finish line. After the race, I got a lot of feedback about how awesome it was to see a familiar face after such a crappy day. It meant so much to me that being out there was so appreciated.
I also had the opportunity to spectate Ironman Chattanooga. I started off the day as a wetsuit stripper. Being this close to the action made it so I could give hugs, high fives, and slaps on the ass to my friends. Everything I do as a spectator is to make my teammates’ days better. When they smile, I know I did something to help them out. I cheered on my racers at the bike course, but what made this race so special to me was the run course. Another teammate and I took our bikes out. Dressed in costumes, we packed the bike baskets with a few beers, motivational posters and some tunes, and headed off to the nastiest hills on the run course, our bikes lit up like Christmas trees. We knew exactly where our friends were going to be and when. We alternated between two different hills, ringing our cowbells, dancing to the music, and offering encouraging words. I later read in the race reports that having us there provided our teammates with the necessary energy and oomph to make it to the end of that race.
Now, on to being a sherpa. This is a whole different kind of spectating. I am there to make sure my racer focuses on the race and nothing else. You need a fork? Check. You need me to help you wash your bike because the mechanic didn't wash it to your liking? Check. You need me to move the car because we are about to get a parking ticket? Check. You need Bananas from Einstein's? Check. It sounds like a lot, but as a racer, I know just how much it helps to have someone do the little things.
Ironman Louisville was the big race. I had been training for this day all season. I was up at 3:30 am to sit in the swim start line for a kick ass spot for 3 hours. I trekked back and forth across Louisville to see my racer, even if it was just for a split second. The logistics there are tough for a spectator (this makes me appreciate my family even more for their job spectating my Ironman.) The swim start is a mile from transition, and then transition is another mile from the finish line. If you don't hustle, you might not see the person you are there for. I waited for 2.5 hours in a line to catch a bus to the bike course - just so I could see my racer once. Karen sped by at 18ish miles an hour and I hoped my cheering helped her make it the last 12 miles to transition. Once the run started, it was time to summon my superior tracking skills to make sure I had enough time to get her bike and gear from transition, take it to the hotel, and be back at the finish line before she finished. I made it back with time to spare. I was in tears as I waited for her to cross the finish line. I was getting texts from other teammates as she passed them a few tenths of a mile up, so I knew she was coming. As she ran by, all smiles, all of the emotions came back to me from when I ran through the finisher’s chute in my first Ironman 3 years prior. Everything that I had done to help Karen get to that moment was worth it just to be there when she crossed the line to become an Ironman.
What did I learn this year? First things first, be prepared. Pack your spectating bag with all of the essentials. This includes tissues, hand wipes, Advil, snacks, sunscreen, water, extra phone batteries, music, etc. If you think you might need it, bring it. Check the weather, dress in layers. You might over pack for your first race, but it is way better than having to purchase a super expensive Canadian raincoat because the entire town is out of Ponchos and umbrellas.
Second, tracking your racer is an art and you are at the mercy of the Ironman tracking system. If the system is not working correctly (which is more often than not) then you are completely blind. You have no idea when you are going to see a glimpse of that red, blue, and green kit that you know so well. This is where the math comes in. It's late, you have been working hard all day, but somehow this is the only way you are going to figure it out. What pace was she going the last time the tracker worked? Did she look good? How many miles does she have to go from that last update and how long do we think it’s going to take her? So many questions. So many calculations. I have become an expert at this part of spectating this year.
Third, don't underestimate the importance of your job. Whether you are out there to spectate or you are put to work as a sherpa, you are valued and appreciated. You are encouraging your teammates as well as complete strangers. Just having you out there cheering could be the difference that it makes for someone to keep going or to quit.
And last but not least, triathlon is not an individual sport. We wouldn't be the amazing racers we are today without the love and support of the Atlanta Triathlon Club. I will continue to spectate and sherpa this year because I absolutely love it, but I plan to actually hit the streets in a tri kit this year too. Don't forget to cheer for me or spray some silly string at me as I pass by!
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