I spent much of my childhood cheering for my dad as he participated in various races, or even running a few 5k races with him (and getting destroyed by him in the process). As I grew up so did his races. He graduated from 5ks to marathons to the ultimate goal--the IronMan. I like to tell my friends I am a "professional race watcher". I've mastered the tactics needed to see him at as many points as possible during his marathons in big cities. And navigating Madison, Wisconsin with thousands of other spectators praying to see their father, daughter, or any other variety of relative finish the swimming, biking, or running portion in the allotted time. This is no easy feat. The competitor must finish a 2.4 mile swim, a 112-mile bike ride, and run a marathon (26.2 miles) before the clock strikes midnight. Whenever I would watch one of these races I would feel inspired and make a vow to myself that one day I too would finish an IronMan. But about 6 hours and 10,000 steps into the ordeal that is watching an IronMan I would realize that I could barely survive spectating an IronMan, much less watching one.
The IronMan is sort of the ultimate goal for many athletes and for some reason my father decided that he needed to become one, an IronMan. He has participated in two and just as his times have gotten better from the first to the second my family's spectating skills have done the same thing.
A typical IronMan watching day is certainly a long one. For many you get up at 4am(ish) and accompany your participant to the starting line and feel your nerves begin to spike in a parallel fashion to theirs. You tell them things along the lines of "no matter what happens, we are so proud" and "you are going to rock this!" As they leave you mark your territory for the first part--the swim. My family and I have since found our favorite spot to watch this which happens to be a circular ramp leading into a parking garage. You are surrounded by hundreds, thousands, of people preparing for the same day as you. After finding your spot you wait for what feels like eternity for the race to start and your racer to run past. You may see them for just a few seconds, but it is definitely worth it. As the day begins to drag (especially during the biking part, 112 miles is just as long as you think) your standards for things that make you happy go way down. From a walking taco to a piece of chalk to write messages to the person you're watching on the bike trail just about anything will make it a little easier. In the same sense, just about anything will annoy you and push your buttons. You feel stress begin to bubble up as your participant's pace slows on the marathon. You can feel yourself sweating while pushing your way to the front of the finish line mob in hopes to see them finish. But I'd say it's worth it. To see the hard work and training they put in, the games missed, pool parties late to, put to use you forget about all the annoyances and times they may have been biking instead of watching a movie with you. Because you are so proud, because they finally did it. Hearing the announcer say "Congratulations, you're an IronMan" to my dad meant almost as much to me as it did to him.
