Ironman Chattanooga – Race Report – Run

The RUN!

The changing tent was much less crowded, but I head right back to the same spot as before.  I’m a creature of habit.  I strip of the dreaded bike shorts and put on my now comfortable, in comparison, ActiveX tri-shorts.  Stuff my pockets and head to the porta potty.  Hooray!  I stop to get Bullfrog applied.  Pose for pictures and kisses with my family, drink an
e+ shot and head out for my run.  I feel great.  Run.  Count to 84. Walk. Count to 60.  Run. Count to 84.  Walk.  Count to 60.  Run… oh wait, this is a big curving hill out of town.  Walk. Walk. Walk. Walk.  I get to the top of the hill.  I start to run and realize that my stomach doesn’t feel too good.  I have to shorten my runs and lengthen my walks.  There is an aid station about every mile.  And I learned quickly that I would need each and every one.  I don’t know when it was, but I realized I needed a potty stop.   So somewhere around mile 3, I stopped.  But there was a line.  So on to mile 4 and relief.  I began to establish a pattern at the aid stations.  Get water or Gatorade. Get ice.  Dump it in my tri-top.  Get Coke.  Leave the stop and open my tri-short and let the ice from my shirt slip down into my shorts.  It was heavenly.  I’d read somewhere about this idea and it worked wonders.  Every stop, all night.

The run was mostly flat through this area.  But just before the Veterans bridge, there is a long hill with lots of people cheering.  I couldn’t run it at all.  By this time I was having trouble with cramps in my calves and hamstrings.  I couldn’t run more than 30 seconds without the cramping starting.  I’d been using salt tablets, but I was still beginning to cramp, especially on hills.  And the big hills were looming.  The bridge was great.  There was a big crowd and they were all cheering.  But on the other side, was THE hill.  I decided it was to be walked.  Crowds along the hill were phenomenal.  Parties and music and people cheering.  It was great!   Over the hill and up a long slow climb to a sharp right turn up hill and then I was going up and down around some of the most beautiful homes I’ve ever seen.  Somewhere during this time, the sun started setting.  By the time I got back to the top of the big hill, it was dark.  Suddenly, there was Adam calling out to me and running along beside me as I came down the hill.  Then there was Maria.  The three of us ran down the longest hill together.  They talked me through how I was doing and Adam dropped the bomb.  I was doing well, but… here it came… if I didn’t pick up the pace, I wouldn’t finish before midnight and I wouldn’t be an Ironman.  How could I possibly pick up the pace.  I was doing everything I could.  This was mile 12.  I came around the corner on to the Walnut Street bridge and there was my Aunt, Uncle and sister cheering me on.  Turns out my Aunt and Uncle had been out on the bridge for most of the day soaking up the thrills of triathlon.  What a boost!

Over the bridge I came to my run special needs bag.  I grabbed my Aleve.  I stuffed my pockets with more Bottle Caps and various other items.  And I was off again.  Just over the top of the hill, the highway became very dark.  I had a light on my visor, but it wasn’t very bright.  I was running on poured concrete sections and some had raised joints.  I caught a joint and went down.  I’ve fallen before, but it’s been a while.  I knew instinctively to roll.  I scrapped my left knee, left elbow, and caught myself hard with the heels of my hands.  I cried out quite loud and 3 ladies rushed over to help me.  They were just bystanders who heard my cry.  They reached out to help me up, but my left calf cramped.  I couldn’t stand.  One of them offered me a towelette to dab the blood off and some essential oils to put on my wounds.  I started to get up again and my hamstring cramped.  Finally, with their help, I was able to stand up again.  And I was off again.

The next 4 miles were the loneliest, most desolate minutes of my life.  My mind gave up.  I was still moving.  Slowly, but still moving.  I was just killing time.  I was waiting for the Sag bus to come take me home.  Ironman attempt failed!  I was rehearsing the speech I would give about how I’d done my best and how I didn’t feel bad.  Blah Blah Blah.  I got to the stop at mile 4 again, now about mile 16 and asked what time it was.  At this point you are probably wondering why I didn’t know what time it was.  I run without a watch.  I train with my phone.  But in Ironman, you can’t use any electronics besides a watch.  I had none.  One of the aid station angels called out 9:10.  I realized I was only 10 miles from the finish and I had almost 3 hours to get to the finish.  This gave me hope and a sense of purpose again.  I was still tired.  I was still sore.  My legs were still cramping when I ran.  But if I could just hold my pace.  I might make it.

The next section of the trail is beautiful and desolate at the same time.  Running along the river walk is beautiful, but there’s nothing besides ghostly benches, trash cans, and light posts.  Slowly a group of death marchers was forming.    I didn’t know the term at the time, but I’ve since learned that the group that fights its way to the line before midnight are on a death march.  I was in that group.  There wasn’t a lot of talking but there were power walkers and run/walk people, like me, there were slow runners.  Age ranges from 20s to 70s.  It was a rag tag group of beaten people who just wouldn’t quit.

I kept asking people “will we make it?”.  Each check of the watches and time charts showed that if I could just stay with it, I’d make it.  So I kept going.  I made another pit stop.  And quickly caught back up with the group.  I crossed the bridge and started the hills.  Up and down. Up and down.  Will I make it?  Up and down.  Will I make it?  Have I done enough?

Suddenly I’m crossing the bridge.  But I can’t run.  Then out of the dark came a voice.  It was Adam.  He had come to check on me and let me know that I had plenty of time.  I would make it.  They were worried, but he knew I could do it.  He walked/ran with me for a bit. And then I headed down the final hill for the chute.  The guy next to me told me to run on in, but I knew there wasn’t much of a run left in me.  I told him to go.  As I got to the chute, I ran.  Suddenly everything was bright.  There were hands reaching over the fences and I was slapping hands from left to right.  Just like the guys on TV.  Just like I had always dreamed of doing.  Then I saw the line.  I raised my arms and roared as I crossed the line.  And I heard the words I had been practicing in my head all these years.  Donald Kutzner, you are an Ironman!  And I was.  The finish line volunteer grabbed me, put my medal on and walked me through the finish line process.  Chip off.  Shirt & hat given.  Picture taken.  And he pointed me at the food tent.

I thought about finding my family.  I knew they were there, but I didn’t know where.  So I did what is logical for me.  I headed for food.  I grabbed 2 pieces of pizza and a sprite.  And I went to sit on a bench and wait for my family to find me.  Shortly I saw Adam over the crowd.  I waved and soon I was surrounded by loving family and my bike was there too!  She was sporting a new finishers seat cover.

We waited till midnight then began the slow trudge up the hill to the car.  It was then that I realized I was soaked from head to toe and that with me no longer moving, I was starting to chill fast.  I changed to my finisher’s shirt and at the car put on my sweats.  What a day!

Oh, by the way, did I mention, I AM AN IRONMAN!