It’s not about my good looks.
I did not race Ironman Wales for my father. I did not turn onto the red carpet leading to the finish line with tears in my eyes with memories of my father. I did not think a lot about my father in those nearly 15 hours it took me to finish the race.
I did Ironman Wales for myself. And my father was with me. Like he always is, no matter what I do, no matter what I am.
My father died on the 5th of September almost a week before IMW. I did not cancel my slot. It would be easy to say he would not have wanted me to cancel – I guess this is the case. But I will never know.
Ironman Wales was not important to concerning any goals. It was – as second to last competition – at the end of a year where many things have been more important than triathlon. I had to take care of my family, something I do without even thinking about it. Close relationships are just that. So I did not even travel there to qualify for Kona (I am far too slow anyway) or to try to go for a new personal best (the course is far too hard for that).
I came to Wales because after Norseman last year I thought that I wasn’t so bad at climbing after all – being raised in a very flat region. Ironman Wales is one of the toughest courses in the realm of Ironman. With a hilly bike split and a marathon with a lot of uphill walking – well, I couldn’t run at least.
But – Ironman Wales enjoys a fantastic reputation. Landscape, people, atmosphere. This combination attracted me. Additionally I do have a crush on everything british for ages. Even rain and cold. I just wanted to experience that.
My father was all his life a host. Professionally. He grew up as a son of owners of a restaurant and his occupation led him to manage restaurants and hotels for most of his life including hosting royal parties and visits of head of states – such as the visit of the Prince of Wales (Charles) and Lady Di to my hometown in Germany (how fitting!). Highly structured and well organized – however it was the contact to people, the human factor that moved him the most. Being there when someone has a need or wish.
Roughly four weeks before IMW my Airbnb-host cancelled my reservation. There I was. Slot and tickets paid – but no room to sleep. Usually that wouldn’t be too much of a problem and Tenby is lovely spot with lots of tourism – but almost 2500 athletes coming to town on one weekend gets Tenby to its limits.
Still runwalking.
One of the perks of Ironman Wales is a very active facebook group. Why? Because the people in Pembrokeshire love their Ironman. The number of people joining the competition from that area who do it because they see the fantastic experience must be higher than in other races. Welsh people are very very very helpful and remarkable hosts.
It did not take long until Tracey contacted me. She said she had a room, participated twice and was happy to offer me accommodation. Instinct, fate – I did not hesitate long and only waited if an earlier offer to share an appartement worked out, which it did not. Lucky me.
What waited for me was an insane Ironman experience, hospitality beyond anything anyone could expect let alone ask for. Tracey, Gavin and Ella (the family’s Schnauzer) gave me a bed, food and a feeling of being more than welcome. I owe them eternally. Tracey took me to the beach to join her swim group. Her swim coach Karen showed me the important things to navigate through the bay – and no, at that moment I did not think of my father who showed me his way to walk through life openhearted and tolerant.
Whenever I stayed with people which I knew well or hardly at all – they all have been good to me. But I never experienced the sensation of getting the impression to belong to a family for 48 hours. Some people can do that – offering a human bond not just a service. My father could do that – I have it printed that he was able to offer something we call “Nestwärme”. The warmth of a bird’s nest.
Tracey started at the Saundersfoot triathlon early Saturday morning. And there I was with Gavin – joined by Tracey’s mother and Ria, the partner of Tracey and Gavin’s son Elliott who was out playing football north of Wales – as if we had always cheered her together.
After her finish she rode her bike home, Gavin and me followed. Tracey drove me to Tenby for the bike check in and afterwards took me by car around the bike course. She explained the difficult parts as well as those stretches where I could maybe take advantage of my TT.
I am not sure what I have done in my life that it led me here. I listen to my heart and follow it. I believe that there will be a way. And there it was.
I don’t dare to write it – but of course Tracey drove me down to Tenby on race day at 4:30 am. She drove home again to have breakfast and later to help in transition zone.
I spent two hours on my own surrounded by thousands of people who gathered to watch the swim start. It is almost one kilometer away from transition zone – streets were packed with people. The welsh anthem was sung – not even videos can transport the enthusiasm of the spectators – who are true supporters.
Swimming – two rounds. Passing the boat twice that grilled bacon for the spectators on board.
Thanks. Zigzagging my way up, pink bag in my hand that had my pair of shoes for running to T1 in them. Lots of sips of water – even though the sea was calm I swallowed enough of that very salty seawater.
The bike course at its most challenging climbs is like a finish at at mountain stage at the Tour de France. Pure Madness. That you climb something like 12% uphill is forgotten. Dismount? NEVER.
And so it went on late into the evening. Tenby Ironman – one big party. Even on the streets leading out of the streets. Support. Support. Support. For each and everyone. Somewhere Gavin, Ria and now even Elliott shouted my name – what an experience!
Yes, the marathon which took me almost six hours is the worst in my now eleven races spanning career in long distance triathlon. It is hard. I walked most of it. At least all uphill sections. I was in good company. And the people still supported me. One lady thanked me for doing this. The spectators thank the athletes!!! My father was a role model when it comes being grateful and not to take anything for granted. He would loved it here, even though he probably would have preferred had I chosen football as a sport. But he liked me doing Ironmans, I know that.
Finish line. Scenes of craziness on the red carpet. It’s not always like that. It sounds like marketing – but Ironman Tenby is a celebration of life.
Tracey waited for me after check out. Of course she was driving me home… All of us walked over to the cars. At home after a shower I was offered food and coffee. We shared some of our stories. I am ashamed how much they cared about me.
I am eternally grateful for that. Just like I am grateful for my father, that he was like he was. Thanks.