IronMan Branson 70.3

The weekend was full of nail biting excitement at Hubs big race.  The Branson 70.3 is no joke.  When we first arrived we saw Glenn from KC Multi Sport and I was volunteered to volunteer the morning of the race.  I had to be there at 430…but of course I was at the mercy of Hubs so I didn’t actually make it there til 445.  I was on wrist band detail.  No one in the transition area without a wrist band!  I saw all the pros coming and going with their thousands and thousands of dollars with of gear.  If I had been racing I probably would have backed out considering it was such a high profile race with so many pros.  Thankfully, I was merely wearing an Iron Team t-shirt and working the event instead of walking my lame/awesome bike around.  (Don’t get me wrong.  My bike is awesome.   For me.  Not for Pip Taylor.)  It was a full day of supporting and yelling and encouraging athletes struggling through a race I can’t ever imagine attempting.  They push themselves in a way that some people might consider crazy---but they love it.  And I suppose that’s all that matters.    

         Oh, and I had never seen so much spandex in my life. 

         Hubs did well and I was able to cheer for him at practically every point in the race.  My volunteer duties made it easy for me to camp out in prime locations while waiting for Hubs.  I was able to get places regular spectators couldn’t—like inside transition when he ran up out of the water, the middle of the road directing traffic when he biked by and inside the finishing area to take his picture as he finished. 

         Unfortunately, while I was waiting for him in the finishing area the emergency crews called to say Hubs had laid down at mile 10 (on the run) and was asking for me… WHAT?  Talk about panic!  He was fine though.  Just worn completely out and sick to his stomach.  I’m super proud of him---he made it 68 miles and that’s 50 more than I have ever done.  It was a milestone.  And while I think we would have liked to have finished I think he is fine with how it all worked out.   I think he learned a lot about that distance and his limits….

         Oh, and not to take the focus off Hubs’ big day but being a volunteer/spectator is not easy work either.  It’s standing in the heat waiting and nervously checking your watch.  It’s hoping nothing bad happened and keeping your energy up for hours of waiting cheering for all the athletes that go by before the one (or in my case ones) you are supporting go by (and they go by in SECONDS).  Spectators sit in the heat for hours and hours just to cheer for their loved one a total of 10 seconds the entire race.  At the end of the day I was filthy, sore, and stinky.  I have a new found respect for the spectators.  Usually, when I’m racing, I want to punch the people in the face that are telling me to keep going when I feel like I’m about to die but after spending a day being the girl that encouraged the stragglers it’s tough to be mad at them because they just want you to do well too. 

        So, for any spectators/race volunteer that has told me I can do it, I would like to take back my eye roll or annoyed deep sigh.  I’m certain you meant well….or at least I’m hoping you did.