JUN-A-9

 

 

A REPORT OF ANOTHER KIND OF TRIATHALON EXPERIENCE,

 AND A DISASTER TO CONTRAST WITH THE PLEASANT EAGLEMAN TRIATHALON EXPERIENCE IN CAMBRIDGE, MD

From:        "Biery, Thomas" <trbiery@bechtel.com>

To:          <mcrun@mcrrc.org>

Date:        6/10/02 11:01AM

Subject:     L@@k at the FIASCO in Utha this weekend...

 

 

For the triathletes out there... L@@k at this early report off the net about

what happened in Utha this weekend...

Just back from Utah.  I only aim for one IM a year, and with all

the investments I made, I'm not taking this IM Utah fiasco that well.

First of all, it is unforgivable that a man, a dedicated athlete,

should loose his life for the unpreparedness of others in a long

sought after event which should only be cause for celebration and not

grief.

The swim should have been called off ‑‑‑ 3‑5 ft crest‑to‑through

swells of muck coming right at you is plain dangerous if you have to

swim 2.4 mi!  Bobbing up and down waiting for the gun to go off, you

could barely see the buoys, and only one at a time if you were

lucky.  The last buoys were in fact being seeded minutes before the

start ‑‑ at all the other triathlons I recall, they were already in

place when you got to the shore.  So, it felt ominous when the buoy

just in front of the gate started drifting away 20 min before the

start, chased by one of the athletes warming up in the water.

Meanwhile, also the second buoy, which should have delimited the

starting field, must have have drifted some, because we started off

way spread out across from the pier.

I'm not a good swimmer, I start in the back, but I finish in my

honest 1.5 hr.  Yet I struggled all the 40 min I was in the water: no

way I could find my rithm for more than a few strokes with the

unpredictability of the waves' period.  I and others kept aiming for

that elusive first buoy (which must have also been drifting) when

somebody close to me pointed at a boat down wind and said they were

picking up swimmers and that the swim had been called off. OK, let's

swim for the boat then.  But the boat is sideways to the waves, and

goes downwind faster than most of us in that sector can swim.  And

swimming downwind, with the waves rolling over you, it's not any

easier than against the waves.  Meanwhile, the 'copter is making

passes here and there, and somewhere over to the side we hear shouts

for help, but I cannot see the guy over the waves.  One of the guys

in my view says it's a cramp, swims off to the rescue, and disappears

behind a crest.

It's funny: when you get in the water determined to swim 2.4 mi, you

would take on anything, placing your faith in the decisions of the

race officials that the swim is doable.  But when you see people

being plucked out of the water or shouting for help, your mind

quickly switches from race mode to survival mode ‑‑ get on the damn

boat and quick!  Obviously, there weren't enough boats to sweep out

1500 people in one pass, so I was the last one to climb aboard my

boat, soon after one of the crew jumped in the muck clutching several

life jackets, and off we were towards the other side of the pier.  On

the boat, we were told nobody would be DQ'd for the swim, and were

let off in a few feet of water, walking the last stretch of mud to

the pier.  Psichologically, with the aborted swim and the

settling uncertainty, your whole race is screwed.

 

Meanwhile, instead of abating as previously announced, the wind was

blowing strong at 15‑20 knots when we got to shore.  On a

loudspeaker, all athletes were being asked to go and step over the

swim‑bike transition electronic mat to get accounted for.  After about

an hour, there were still three people missing, I don't recall if

John Boland was among those called.

 

The wind is chilling.  Space blankets are distributed, most athletes

don them, those who don't shiver heroically towards hypothermia.  A

two hours delay is announced for a possible bike start.

 

At the "athletes' meeting", after apologizing for the turn of events,

the race director (?) simply notifies us that it has been decided

that the IM will be replaced by a duathlon (65mi B / 13.1 mi R) due

to "emotional distress" of many athletes ‑‑ I didn't see any

distressed faces, though.  No mention is made of anybody either

missing or dead.

 

So off we go on our bikes into a wind which is against you most of

the time, with the new idea that you are on a training ride for some

other IM.  You have to adapt to the new situation: you can and must go

faster, since it's "only" 65 mi!  But after all the strategic

planning for the IM, it's not automatic to think "Half Iron".

 

Anyway, the 65 mi bike course (going south of Utah Lake and back) is

quite flat, but with the wind it would have made for a tough 112 mi.

 

The transition was well organized.  On the run, I enjoyed talking to

the volunteers and exchanging high fives with their little kids, who

also eagerly helped freshening us up along the way.  The race

organizers are not on par with these incredible volunteers, standing

there for hours in the sun, often without even a nod or a word of

thanks from the athletes.

 

I don't know of any precedent IM turned out like this, but since a

Half Iron costs less than half of an Ironman, it would be beneficial

to the badly tarnished image of IM Utah if all the athletes received

a $200 reimbursement for the "halved" race.

 

In conclusion, I set off for an IM, and instead came home with a

shirt, a hat, a medal and a finish picture with stamped on a false

"Ironman Utah" ‑‑ I don't know yet what I'll do with the whole lot.

 

Roberto

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