Oct edit... For those who stumbled upon this site that I don't know:
Astrid = Wife
Krista, Laraine, Jeff, Todd & Jenny = friends
Well, where to begin?
I’ve broken this report up into three sections. How I got into it, The Race Report, and the training program with thanks. Skip to whatever part interests you, or enjoy the whole thing.
Part 1: How I got into it
I’ll start by addressing the biggest questions others have asked me. Why did you sign up for the Ironman? Are you insane?
Probably, but this was me in 2004…
The Ironman has always been something I thought was unattainable for me. 5 years ago I would have laughed at anyone who even suggested I try to do something like this. Most people would have agreed. I did not have, and still don’t have, the body of an endurance athlete. I’m 6’2” and 230lbs. 5 years ago I was around 275lbs. The funny thing was, I didn’t think I was that out of shape. I wasn’t lean, but I was active. I skied, I biked, I played Ultimate, and I tried to keep up with Astrid at a few of her sports. I had even participated in a few fun runs, but always placed near the back of the pack. It didn't bother me. I knew and accepted that I didn't have a "runner's build" and just didn’t think I could ever run more than 10km at a time without doing serious damage to myself. I think what prompted me to do something else was the knowledge that I was active, but not lean, and not being lean began to bother me. Everyone wants to be in good shape, but I was frustrated that the body I wanted wasn’t there even though I doing what I thought was necessary to achieve it. I had lost a lot of weight since university, where I came out of school at 315lbs, and so I felt I was on the right track, it just seemed that I had stalled. The reality was, it wasn’t my activities, it was my diet. Unfortunately, I loved food way too much to give up my way of eating. The only other alternative was to step up the training program.
Astrid was into adventure races. I knew I couldn’t train at her level so I enlisted the help of a few friends to do a fun adventure race in Calgary. Laraine and Jeff were the best training buddies I could have hoped for, and for the first time in my life, I started to enjoy going out to do stuff that was endurance related. We had a lot of fun in the race and were eager to sign up again the following year. The hard part was that I soon discovered that my motivation to train was directly linked to the goal I was training for, and once the race I was training for was over, I’d slip back into my old lazy ways, and I’d eat my way right back up to the weight I was at when I started training. I knew that I had to keep signing up for new things to keep me motivated to work out.
About 3 years ago Krista, who knew I had participated in some multisport stuff, told me about an event that was happening in Edmonton. The World Masters Games. One of the events was the Triathlon, and Krista wanted me to sign up and participate with her. I was hesitant, but with the support of Laraine I was able to start training. I owe a lot of my training ethic today to Laraine. She kept me going to the gym, to the pool, and anywhere else I needed to go. Training with Laraine became one of my favourite activities; we’d always have a blast together. Soon, training became racing, and before I knew it I was racing at the World Masters Edmonton ITU race.
Krista had thrown down the gauntlet to see who would win (a pretty ballsy move BTW but it was all for fun and the real goal was just finishing). I was definitely intimidated. I knew she had been training hard, with her Cops for Cancer Group, and it was her idea to do the race, so I expected to get slaughtered. In the end though, I think I beat Krista by ~30min. I’m not saying this to rub it in. I love Krista dearly. It was just a complete shock to me. Clearly all the training I had done with Laraine had paid off. I honestly don’t think I could have gotten to the race today if Laraine hadn’t of been there to help me believe that I could do it. My biggest regret in this entire affair was that Laraine wasn’t interested in doing the Ironman and thus didn’t want to train for an Ironman with me. Regardless, her companionship means a lot to me and I thank her for the support she was able to give.
After the Edmonton ITU, Krista jokingly stated that she wanted to sign up for the Ironman. I laughed it off because the idea was ridiculous. There was no way I could do an Ironman, and I had beaten her by a half hour. Where did she get the idea that she could do an Ironman? Laraine and I headed back to Calgary to continue our training. We had more races on the horizon and needed to keep training. There were many other people that we trained with who all thought an Ironman was something I could do(I’m looking at all you Garage Gang people at Talisman), but I just thought they were being polite. Running is still the most important part of any triathlon. I had never even run a ½ marathon at that point, let alone a marathon, let alone a 3.8km swim followed by a 180km bike followed by a marathon. The idea was still absurd.
In spring of 2006, I was informed that Krista had signed up for the 2006 Subaru Ironman Canada race in Penticton.
Well holy shit.
Whether she intended to or not, another gauntlet had just been thrown down. Krista had signed up for something so far beyond her current abilities, and she seemed excited. She was loving the training, loving the people she was training with, finding purpose in her life, and doing something for a good cause.
She did what most should do with Triathlon, she took her results from th
e World Master’s Games as a personal victory and was setting her sights on something bigger. She was looking to prove this stuff to herself. When I saw that, I knew I should start giving this race some more serious attention.
Fortunately, my wife was there to carry me the rest of the way. Astrid had started taking an interest in triathlon after my first season with Laraine had ended. She hadn’t been active in multisport for a while and had made the decision to get back in shape and start coming to these events with me. It didn’t take Astrid long to get her endurance back, and in August of 2006, Astrid and I headed to Penticton to watch Krista become an Ironman, and to sign up for the following year. The Ironman had been on Astrid’s radar a long time ago and she was eager to take a crack at it as well. It was very inspiring to watch and Krista finished like a champion. It was such a long day for her, but she looked so happy. I was very proud of her, and motivated more than ever to take on the challenge. $600 later… we were signed up.
Part 2 The Race Report.
I awoke at 4:15am to use the washroom. A week’s worth of “hydrating” had done it’s job well. I did my business, turned on the coffee maker, and went back to sleep for another half hour. At 5:00am, Astrid and I awoke to our watch alarms and proceeded to get ready. Transition opened at 5:00am, as did “special need” bags drop off and body marking. Fortunately, we were staying at the Lakeside Resort and Casino, the host hotel for the race and from our balcony we could look right over the transition area. I could already see some athletes walking to their bikes. I wondered how long they’d already been up for. Some had to drive here. I felt fortunate for the extra sleep I was privy to. The announcer’s voice could be heard directing athletes to get their bags dropped off first and then get body marked. After a light breakfast, I had an English muffin with cheese and turkey on it with my coffee, we proceeded down to where the action was. We left our wetsuits back in our room, where we also had a private washroom, which we knew we’d want one more time before the race began.
Even though we still had an hour and a half before the cannon went off, 2600 athletes are a lot to process, and body marking took a long time. After we finally made it through, I went to transition and proceeded to get my bike ready, which had been sitting in transition since the previous morning when bike check-in occurred. After pumping tires, putting food in my Bento box, ensuring water bottles are present and full, and checking what gear I was in, I ran to Astrid’s bike to pump her tires. By then it was already after 6:00am. I still had to get back to my room to drop off the bike pump, grab my wetsuit, and take care of business.
I ran back to the room, which was longer to do than necessary because of the maze of fencing erected by the organizer to prevent the public from accessing the course. Astrid was already there and was having a few “stomach” issues. I used the washroom quickly, grabbed my wetsuit and looked at Astrid. It was almost 6:30am. Pro start was in 15 minutes. Our start time was at 7:00am She could tell that I was getting nervous and told me to head down and get ready. She was going to put her wetsuit on in the room and then head down after using the washroom one last time. I complied and ran out the door. I hoped a fence instead of negotiating the maze and got into transition quickly. I struggled into my wetsuit and dropped my dry goods bag off. Then came to realization that I might not be able to find Astrid before the race.
It sounds stupid. I know we weren’t going to be racing together, but I wanted to know that she had made it to the start line and was ready to go. I started searching for her, but everyone is in a black wetsuit. The guys had blue swim caps, the girls in pink, but there was still 1000 pink caps to look through. I quickly looked around the transition area, but couldn’t see her. There were lots of athletes already on the beach and the announcer was asking everyone to proceed across the timing mats and into the start area. The pros were going to be heading out any minute. As I passed through the beach entrance, and across the timing mats. I was presented with a surreal view. Thousands of athletes crowded into the corner of a bay, and 15000 spectators all along the beach front cheering loudly. Ominous music was playing. TV cameras on fancy dollies were moving around us. A helicopter hovered above us and boats lined the edges of the swim course. It was then that I realized how big of an event this is. This wasn’t just some race I was doing. THIS WAS THE IRONMAN! And I had made it to the start line. Now I just needed to find Astrid.
I started to look through the crowd of athletes. A cannon went off and I saw the pros take off in the corner of my eye. I didn’t really
care. I needed to find Astrid. Eventually, I decided it was easier for Astrid to find me. I found a relatively open space for me to stand alone and just looked around. Finally… Astrid found me...with five minutes to spare. We had a touching moment, congratulated each other for making it here, and then split apart to where we both felt comfortable starting. I wasn’t likely to see her again until the run course, but I felt much better knowing she had made it here to the start line. The music began to build, the crowd got louder, and at 7:00am the cannon went off. I was racing in the Ironman.
The beginning of the Ironman is without a doubt the most intense part of the race. It is a mass start. And this was the largest mass start in Ironman history… anywhere. 2600 athletes all trying to find a bit of free water to swim in for the next 3.86km. Positioning yourself at the start line is part of the strategy. Too close to the front, you get swam over. Too close to the back and you spend the swim trying to get past a lot of weaker swimmers. Too close to the edges and you might have a hard time finding someone to draft off of or you might get squeezed out in the corners. Everybody is thrashing about. No one has any direction-sense. You’re all too close together. It can be a little scary. Body contact is inevitable. How you deal with it is what determines your swim time. For me I chose a spot about 3 or 4 people deep and on the left side of middle near an HSBC buoy.
The bay that the swim starts in is quite shallow, so you really can’t start swimming until everyone ahead of you has stopped walking and finally plunged into the water. Fortunately, the people in front of me were just as eager as I was and before I knew it, my face was in the water. The current was the first thing I noticed. 2600 people don’t just create a draft. It’s a current. And it carried me right up into the feet of those in front of me. I spent the entire swim in continuous contact with someone. Either someone to my right, to my left, behind me, or in front of me. For the next hour and eight minutes, I was in a battle with those around me for a little bit of free water. I wasn’t complaining too much. As long as someone was just ahead of me, I knew I was getting some benefit of a draft. I didn’t get punched or kicked, but I did get grabbed once as someone grabbed ahold of my leg when they were trying to move around me. I kicked them off. Otherwise, it was just a lot of brushing and rubbing as arms spun and moved past each other. (Only one uncomfortable moment when a girl and I attempted to take a breath on the ame side, our faces only inches apart.)
Before I continue, I need to say thanks to the volunteers and race organizers. Ironman is the most well catered event I have ever been apart of. There were approximately 4500 volunteers at the race, looking after our every need. It really is amazing how much support you receive in the race. There are aid stations on every mile of the run course, and every 10 miles of the bike course. There’s people to help you out of the water, help you out of your wetsuit, help direct you around transition, help you put sunscreen on, help you pack your things, help carry your bike, and most importantly… catch you at the finish line and stay with you to ensure you are ok. They are everywhere, and it really makes the race that much more special.
After I got my bike and started off on the bike course, I was greeted to a new spectacle, Tour de France level crowds. People crowded down the sides of the street, cheering loudly. Cyclists on all sides of me trying to work their way up the line. I remembered to eat a Clif bar before leaving the city. My adrenalin was obvious kicking in quite a bit. I was moving insanely fast and it felt effortless. At one point I couldn’t believe how easy it felt to be travelling at 45kph. Then I saw my heart rate. 165bpm. Too hard. I needed to slow down.
I
was calm once I reached McLean Creek Road, the first hill of the day. It’s also the steepest hill in the course, but it’s just 15km into the ride and not very long. Before I knew it I was cruising down the windy downhill back to OK Falls and then south to Oliver and Osoyoos. This 45km section was incredibly fast. I ate perogies along the way, 2-3 every hour. Then you turn the corner at the Husky Gas Station with the gigantic Canadian Flag and start up the famous Richter Pass. That was when troubles started. Climbing just isn’t one of my strong points, and being a Clydesdale in a race full of elite micromachines makes it difficult to keep up with the pack I was climbing with. Added to that was a NW wind that was blowing in your face over the entire climb. I was getting dropped by everyone, but the crowds were awesome. Once again people lined the sides of the road. I was getting cheered on by masses of people who didn’t know me. It was incredible.
Once at the top, you get a fast downhill followed by seven large rollers. Unfortunately, the grind up Richter had actually created a pain on the inside of my right knee, and each roller just seemed to make things worse. I was hoping things would smooth out after the rollers. Unfortunately, the winds just got worse. The ride all the way up the Similkamean Valley was straight into a head wind, and by the time I got to the start of the turn around at kilometre 110, my left knee had developed a pain on the inside as well. At least I had 10km of tail wind before the special needs bag pick up. I stopped for a quick pee break and then headed on down the road.
In the paranoia of getting ready for the race, you try to pack anything you think you could need into the special needs bags. For the bike bag, I had extra food (perogies), an extra tube, an extra CO2 cartridge, and an old tire. What ever you don’t use gets thrown away. I didn’t actually need anything, but I didn’t want to see all that stuff go to waste, so I grabbed a couple of cliff bars, the tube, and the CO2 cartridge, and stuffed them into my jersey.
Back into the head wind again and finally out of Keremeos on highway 3A on the way to Yellow Lake. It starts off as a gradual climb (and unfortunately in light rain), past Olalla, and then the highway splits and you have your final test of the bike course. The climb is not that long, and probably less steep than Richter, but you’re tired by this point. I thought I could feel my left hamstring starting to seize. But there were people everywhere. I know I said it earlier, but I’ll say it again. I felt like I was in the tour going up a mountain pass. There was a gap only 10 feet wide. People were screaming, signs were waved, costumes worn, and the road was all chalked up. At one point to couple of fans ran out and helped give me a quick push. I heard someone call my name and almost crashed trying to see who it was. When I reached the summit, I knew I was going to make it back to Penticton. A woman, who was only wearing what appeared to be a sign made of construction paper that said “Looking for an Iron Husband” greeted me with a friendly “Welcome to the Summit”. The most beautiful words in the world.
I descended quickly back into Penticton, but was greeted with a pounding rain storm and gail force winds that almost stopped me dead in my tracks. My knees were killing me and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to run. What if my hamstring seized up when I got off the bike? As I pulled into transition, soaked, I handed my bike to a lovely volunteer and proceeded off to find my Bike-To-Run Bag.
T2 went very slow for me. I wanted to change clothes. I wanted to rest my knees. I wanted to take some Ibuprofen, which I was smart enough to pack in both run bags, and I needed to tape my nipples up before the run. It hurt sitting down and it hurt even more standing back up. Normally, T2 is faster than T1, but I was almost twice as long in T2. I didn’t want to start a marathon until I knew I was ready to go.
I headed out on the longest run of my life.
The run course has a small out and back along Lakeshore drive, and then a long out and back to OK Falls, followed by a short out and back along Lakeshore drive again before you can finally finish. I wanted to be heading up Main Street to OK Falls before the first pro athlete made it back to Lakeshore Drive. Once again the crowds were incredible. As I headed down Lakeshore, people cheered wildly. Then I saw a real treat. Todd, Jenny, Theo, and Charlie where cheering like mad. It was great to see them. As I left Lakeshore Drive and headed towards mainstreet, I was greeted to another surprise… Astrid was starting her Marathon too. Knowing how fast she runs, I expected her to catch me soon.
My strategy was simple. Run at a slow and steady pace, in my aerobic zone. I was doing 12 minute miles. That’s a crawling speed, but it’s still faster than walking and I knew if I could just keep that up, I’d be passing people. It was one of my goals to run the entire marathon. Half way up main street I saw the lead runner coming back in. After I got out of town, I saw Lisa Bentley leading the females back in. I started having a few gas issues shortly into the run and didn’t touch anything at the first couple aid stations. After that, I started drinking at every aid station, sometimes water, sometimes Gatorade. I think I had a few pretzels at mile 9. At mile 10, I decided to use an outhouse. I was sure Astrid would pass me while I was on the shitter. The hills started. I managed to convince myself not to walk until the turn around. I saw my coach at mile 12. I asked about Astrid. He hadn’t seen her. Where was she?
At the turn around I grabbed my special needs bag and downed some more IBU. Then I started off again. When I reached my coach, I still couldn’t see Astrid, but it was just shortly after that I saw her coming the other way. She was still the same distance back. I knew something had to be wrong. (Later I found out she was having her own GI issues) I kept pushing. I started having chicken noodle soup. On the last hill near OK Falls around mile 15, I finally had to walk. My heart rate was increasing too much, and I thought I might bonk. Once at the top, I had a gel and started running again. With 10 miles to go I started doing gels every 2 miles. That was awesome. I started feeling much better.
I don’t remember when I came to the realization that my knees weren’t hurting anymore, but I didn’t pick up the pace for fear that they might get worse again. When I reached the city limits, I knew I was home free. All I had to do was make it down mainstreet and then the victory lap on Lakeshore Drive. People were still cheering from the sidelines after 12 hours. Krista and Mike cheered me on from the Sag Wagon they were driving. I could hear the finishline as I got closer.
The final turn onto Lakeshore is marked with a 25 mile marker and I could feel a tear whelling up inside me. I pumped my fist into the air to celebrate getting a cheer from the crowd and started down Lakeshore one last time without even looking towards the finish line I was passing on my right. Jenny and Todd were still there cheering. I was elated.
I tried to take one last sip of coke from the final aid station before making an effort to finish strong. I spilled most of it all over me. I had a good gap between the runner ahead of me and the runner behind, and I wanted to make sure the finishline officials had a chance to see me coming and call out my name (not to mention give the photo guys ample opportunity to get my finishline photo). I remembered to peel off the reflective tape I was wearing(screws up the pictures). I took off my sunglasses and hat and proceeded down the finishline bleachers, through the fans. A huge smile broke across my face as I heard the announcer call out, “Darren Arcuri of Calgary, Alberta. YOU are an IRONMAN!”
A guy grabbed me by the arm as I came in. He was quickly replaced by my coach, Grant, who was also on catcher duty. Grant lead me over to where I get my medal. He gave me a finisher’s cap and T-shirt. He was about to lead me off to get my picture when I remembered that Astrid should be right behind me. I wanted to stay at the finish line and see her cross. I was given some Gatoraid and ran into Katie who was also doing a finish line catcher shift. They both waited with me for Astrid. Then my world started to go black and I knew I was about to faint. I warned both Grant and Katie and then attempted to sit down and lie on my back, hoping to get the blood back to my head. It wasn’t graceful, and I think I startled Katie as I toppled over. I was soon surrounded by volunteers trying to offer me Pepsi. I was already feeling better but I took the Pepsi anyway. When I looked up again, Astrid was walking over to me with a confused look on her face. “What happened to you?” she said.
I replied, “I’m an Ironman!”
Part 3 The Training and Thanks
Ironman is a selfish sport. I don’t know how some couples can do it (let alone those with kids), but thank god Astrid was there to train with me. It requires so much of your time and energy. If Astrid hadn’t of been there to train with me, we likely wouldn’t have seen each other. But, as it turned out, we were able to train together all year, and I believe this actually helped strengthen our relationship. I’ve heard about many couples that’ve split up because of the Ironman, and I can understand why. It’s not that you don’t want to spend time with others… you CAN’T spend time with others. The training schedule is very demanding. Astrid and I have a lot of catching up to do with friends and family this year… if they’ll let us.
For those who are curious, here are the yearly stats that I put in to become an Ironman…
Astrid = Wife
Krista, Laraine, Jeff, Todd & Jenny = friends
Well, where to begin?
I’ve broken this report up into three sections. How I got into it, The Race Report, and the training program with thanks. Skip to whatever part interests you, or enjoy the whole thing.
Part 1: How I got into it
I’ll start by addressing the biggest questions others have asked me. Why did you sign up for the Ironman? Are you insane?
Probably, but this was me in 2004…
The Ironman has always been something I thought was unattainable for me. 5 years ago I would have laughed at anyone who even suggested I try to do something like this. Most people would have agreed. I did not have, and still don’t have, the body of an endurance athlete. I’m 6’2” and 230lbs. 5 years ago I was around 275lbs. The funny thing was, I didn’t think I was that out of shape. I wasn’t lean, but I was active. I skied, I biked, I played Ultimate, and I tried to keep up with Astrid at a few of her sports. I had even participated in a few fun runs, but always placed near the back of the pack. It didn't bother me. I knew and accepted that I didn't have a "runner's build" and just didn’t think I could ever run more than 10km at a time without doing serious damage to myself. I think what prompted me to do something else was the knowledge that I was active, but not lean, and not being lean began to bother me. Everyone wants to be in good shape, but I was frustrated that the body I wanted wasn’t there even though I doing what I thought was necessary to achieve it. I had lost a lot of weight since university, where I came out of school at 315lbs, and so I felt I was on the right track, it just seemed that I had stalled. The reality was, it wasn’t my activities, it was my diet. Unfortunately, I loved food way too much to give up my way of eating. The only other alternative was to step up the training program.
Astrid was into adventure races. I knew I couldn’t train at her level so I enlisted the help of a few friends to do a fun adventure race in Calgary. Laraine and Jeff were the best training buddies I could have hoped for, and for the first time in my life, I started to enjoy going out to do stuff that was endurance related. We had a lot of fun in the race and were eager to sign up again the following year. The hard part was that I soon discovered that my motivation to train was directly linked to the goal I was training for, and once the race I was training for was over, I’d slip back into my old lazy ways, and I’d eat my way right back up to the weight I was at when I started training. I knew that I had to keep signing up for new things to keep me motivated to work out.
About 3 years ago Krista, who knew I had participated in some multisport stuff, told me about an event that was happening in Edmonton. The World Masters Games. One of the events was the Triathlon, and Krista wanted me to sign up and participate with her. I was hesitant, but with the support of Laraine I was able to start training. I owe a lot of my training ethic today to Laraine. She kept me going to the gym, to the pool, and anywhere else I needed to go. Training with Laraine became one of my favourite activities; we’d always have a blast together. Soon, training became racing, and before I knew it I was racing at the World Masters Edmonton ITU race.
Krista had thrown down the gauntlet to see who would win (a pretty ballsy move BTW but it was all for fun and the real goal was just finishing). I was definitely intimidated. I knew she had been training hard, with her Cops for Cancer Group, and it was her idea to do the race, so I expected to get slaughtered. In the end though, I think I beat Krista by ~30min. I’m not saying this to rub it in. I love Krista dearly. It was just a complete shock to me. Clearly all the training I had done with Laraine had paid off. I honestly don’t think I could have gotten to the race today if Laraine hadn’t of been there to help me believe that I could do it. My biggest regret in this entire affair was that Laraine wasn’t interested in doing the Ironman and thus didn’t want to train for an Ironman with me. Regardless, her companionship means a lot to me and I thank her for the support she was able to give.
After the Edmonton ITU, Krista jokingly stated that she wanted to sign up for the Ironman. I laughed it off because the idea was ridiculous. There was no way I could do an Ironman, and I had beaten her by a half hour. Where did she get the idea that she could do an Ironman? Laraine and I headed back to Calgary to continue our training. We had more races on the horizon and needed to keep training. There were many other people that we trained with who all thought an Ironman was something I could do(I’m looking at all you Garage Gang people at Talisman), but I just thought they were being polite. Running is still the most important part of any triathlon. I had never even run a ½ marathon at that point, let alone a marathon, let alone a 3.8km swim followed by a 180km bike followed by a marathon. The idea was still absurd.
In spring of 2006, I was informed that Krista had signed up for the 2006 Subaru Ironman Canada race in Penticton.
Well holy shit.
Whether she intended to or not, another gauntlet had just been thrown down. Krista had signed up for something so far beyond her current abilities, and she seemed excited. She was loving the training, loving the people she was training with, finding purpose in her life, and doing something for a good cause.
She did what most should do with Triathlon, she took her results from th
e World Master’s Games as a personal victory and was setting her sights on something bigger. She was looking to prove this stuff to herself. When I saw that, I knew I should start giving this race some more serious attention.Fortunately, my wife was there to carry me the rest of the way. Astrid had started taking an interest in triathlon after my first season with Laraine had ended. She hadn’t been active in multisport for a while and had made the decision to get back in shape and start coming to these events with me. It didn’t take Astrid long to get her endurance back, and in August of 2006, Astrid and I headed to Penticton to watch Krista become an Ironman, and to sign up for the following year. The Ironman had been on Astrid’s radar a long time ago and she was eager to take a crack at it as well. It was very inspiring to watch and Krista finished like a champion. It was such a long day for her, but she looked so happy. I was very proud of her, and motivated more than ever to take on the challenge. $600 later… we were signed up.
Part 2 The Race Report.
I awoke at 4:15am to use the washroom. A week’s worth of “hydrating” had done it’s job well. I did my business, turned on the coffee maker, and went back to sleep for another half hour. At 5:00am, Astrid and I awoke to our watch alarms and proceeded to get ready. Transition opened at 5:00am, as did “special need” bags drop off and body marking. Fortunately, we were staying at the Lakeside Resort and Casino, the host hotel for the race and from our balcony we could look right over the transition area. I could already see some athletes walking to their bikes. I wondered how long they’d already been up for. Some had to drive here. I felt fortunate for the extra sleep I was privy to. The announcer’s voice could be heard directing athletes to get their bags dropped off first and then get body marked. After a light breakfast, I had an English muffin with cheese and turkey on it with my coffee, we proceeded down to where the action was. We left our wetsuits back in our room, where we also had a private washroom, which we knew we’d want one more time before the race began.
Even though we still had an hour and a half before the cannon went off, 2600 athletes are a lot to process, and body marking took a long time. After we finally made it through, I went to transition and proceeded to get my bike ready, which had been sitting in transition since the previous morning when bike check-in occurred. After pumping tires, putting food in my Bento box, ensuring water bottles are present and full, and checking what gear I was in, I ran to Astrid’s bike to pump her tires. By then it was already after 6:00am. I still had to get back to my room to drop off the bike pump, grab my wetsuit, and take care of business.
I ran back to the room, which was longer to do than necessary because of the maze of fencing erected by the organizer to prevent the public from accessing the course. Astrid was already there and was having a few “stomach” issues. I used the washroom quickly, grabbed my wetsuit and looked at Astrid. It was almost 6:30am. Pro start was in 15 minutes. Our start time was at 7:00am She could tell that I was getting nervous and told me to head down and get ready. She was going to put her wetsuit on in the room and then head down after using the washroom one last time. I complied and ran out the door. I hoped a fence instead of negotiating the maze and got into transition quickly. I struggled into my wetsuit and dropped my dry goods bag off. Then came to realization that I might not be able to find Astrid before the race.
It sounds stupid. I know we weren’t going to be racing together, but I wanted to know that she had made it to the start line and was ready to go. I started searching for her, but everyone is in a black wetsuit. The guys had blue swim caps, the girls in pink, but there was still 1000 pink caps to look through. I quickly looked around the transition area, but couldn’t see her. There were lots of athletes already on the beach and the announcer was asking everyone to proceed across the timing mats and into the start area. The pros were going to be heading out any minute. As I passed through the beach entrance, and across the timing mats. I was presented with a surreal view. Thousands of athletes crowded into the corner of a bay, and 15000 spectators all along the beach front cheering loudly. Ominous music was playing. TV cameras on fancy dollies were moving around us. A helicopter hovered above us and boats lined the edges of the swim course. It was then that I realized how big of an event this is. This wasn’t just some race I was doing. THIS WAS THE IRONMAN! And I had made it to the start line. Now I just needed to find Astrid.I started to look through the crowd of athletes. A cannon went off and I saw the pros take off in the corner of my eye. I didn’t really
care. I needed to find Astrid. Eventually, I decided it was easier for Astrid to find me. I found a relatively open space for me to stand alone and just looked around. Finally… Astrid found me...with five minutes to spare. We had a touching moment, congratulated each other for making it here, and then split apart to where we both felt comfortable starting. I wasn’t likely to see her again until the run course, but I felt much better knowing she had made it here to the start line. The music began to build, the crowd got louder, and at 7:00am the cannon went off. I was racing in the Ironman.
The beginning of the Ironman is without a doubt the most intense part of the race. It is a mass start. And this was the largest mass start in Ironman history… anywhere. 2600 athletes all trying to find a bit of free water to swim in for the next 3.86km. Positioning yourself at the start line is part of the strategy. Too close to the front, you get swam over. Too close to the back and you spend the swim trying to get past a lot of weaker swimmers. Too close to the edges and you might have a hard time finding someone to draft off of or you might get squeezed out in the corners. Everybody is thrashing about. No one has any direction-sense. You’re all too close together. It can be a little scary. Body contact is inevitable. How you deal with it is what determines your swim time. For me I chose a spot about 3 or 4 people deep and on the left side of middle near an HSBC buoy.
The bay that the swim starts in is quite shallow, so you really can’t start swimming until everyone ahead of you has stopped walking and finally plunged into the water. Fortunately, the people in front of me were just as eager as I was and before I knew it, my face was in the water. The current was the first thing I noticed. 2600 people don’t just create a draft. It’s a current. And it carried me right up into the feet of those in front of me. I spent the entire swim in continuous contact with someone. Either someone to my right, to my left, behind me, or in front of me. For the next hour and eight minutes, I was in a battle with those around me for a little bit of free water. I wasn’t complaining too much. As long as someone was just ahead of me, I knew I was getting some benefit of a draft. I didn’t get punched or kicked, but I did get grabbed once as someone grabbed ahold of my leg when they were trying to move around me. I kicked them off. Otherwise, it was just a lot of brushing and rubbing as arms spun and moved past each other. (Only one uncomfortable moment when a girl and I attempted to take a breath on the ame side, our faces only inches apart.)As we rounded the buoys, I was impressed with the scuba divers below watching our progress. Houseboats were on the inside of the turns and I 
could see volunteers watching to make sure everyone was safe. Before I knew it, I was back in shallow water where the impressive current could really be felt again. As I stumbled to regain my balance and find my draw string for my wetsuit, I was in awe of how many people were still watching from the sidelines. Afterwards I discovered that my heart rate had been racing throughout the swim between 160 and 170 the entire time. I was obviously more stressed than I thought.
could see volunteers watching to make sure everyone was safe. Before I knew it, I was back in shallow water where the impressive current could really be felt again. As I stumbled to regain my balance and find my draw string for my wetsuit, I was in awe of how many people were still watching from the sidelines. Afterwards I discovered that my heart rate had been racing throughout the swim between 160 and 170 the entire time. I was obviously more stressed than I thought. 
I stumbled my way up the very rocky edge of the lake(why didn’t they clear a path for us?) past the timing mats and into transition 1. I managed to get my wetsuit pulled down below my waist before two people tipped me onto my back and yanked the rest of the suit off. I was helped up, handed my wetsuit, and ushered off to find my Swim-To-Bike transition bag. The change tents were full , but I was already wearing my bike stuff and was able to change outside the tents. Others obviously didn’t want to wait for a spot in the tent and I could hear officials screaming at people that there was “No Public Nudity” allowed. I don’t think they disqualified anyone though.
Before I continue, I need to say thanks to the volunteers and race organizers. Ironman is the most well catered event I have ever been apart of. There were approximately 4500 volunteers at the race, looking after our every need. It really is amazing how much support you receive in the race. There are aid stations on every mile of the run course, and every 10 miles of the bike course. There’s people to help you out of the water, help you out of your wetsuit, help direct you around transition, help you put sunscreen on, help you pack your things, help carry your bike, and most importantly… catch you at the finish line and stay with you to ensure you are ok. They are everywhere, and it really makes the race that much more special.
After I got my bike and started off on the bike course, I was greeted to a new spectacle, Tour de France level crowds. People crowded down the sides of the street, cheering loudly. Cyclists on all sides of me trying to work their way up the line. I remembered to eat a Clif bar before leaving the city. My adrenalin was obvious kicking in quite a bit. I was moving insanely fast and it felt effortless. At one point I couldn’t believe how easy it felt to be travelling at 45kph. Then I saw my heart rate. 165bpm. Too hard. I needed to slow down.
I
was calm once I reached McLean Creek Road, the first hill of the day. It’s also the steepest hill in the course, but it’s just 15km into the ride and not very long. Before I knew it I was cruising down the windy downhill back to OK Falls and then south to Oliver and Osoyoos. This 45km section was incredibly fast. I ate perogies along the way, 2-3 every hour. Then you turn the corner at the Husky Gas Station with the gigantic Canadian Flag and start up the famous Richter Pass. That was when troubles started. Climbing just isn’t one of my strong points, and being a Clydesdale in a race full of elite micromachines makes it difficult to keep up with the pack I was climbing with. Added to that was a NW wind that was blowing in your face over the entire climb. I was getting dropped by everyone, but the crowds were awesome. Once again people lined the sides of the road. I was getting cheered on by masses of people who didn’t know me. It was incredible.Once at the top, you get a fast downhill followed by seven large rollers. Unfortunately, the grind up Richter had actually created a pain on the inside of my right knee, and each roller just seemed to make things worse. I was hoping things would smooth out after the rollers. Unfortunately, the winds just got worse. The ride all the way up the Similkamean Valley was straight into a head wind, and by the time I got to the start of the turn around at kilometre 110, my left knee had developed a pain on the inside as well. At least I had 10km of tail wind before the special needs bag pick up. I stopped for a quick pee break and then headed on down the road.
In the paranoia of getting ready for the race, you try to pack anything you think you could need into the special needs bags. For the bike bag, I had extra food (perogies), an extra tube, an extra CO2 cartridge, and an old tire. What ever you don’t use gets thrown away. I didn’t actually need anything, but I didn’t want to see all that stuff go to waste, so I grabbed a couple of cliff bars, the tube, and the CO2 cartridge, and stuffed them into my jersey.
Back into the head wind again and finally out of Keremeos on highway 3A on the way to Yellow Lake. It starts off as a gradual climb (and unfortunately in light rain), past Olalla, and then the highway splits and you have your final test of the bike course. The climb is not that long, and probably less steep than Richter, but you’re tired by this point. I thought I could feel my left hamstring starting to seize. But there were people everywhere. I know I said it earlier, but I’ll say it again. I felt like I was in the tour going up a mountain pass. There was a gap only 10 feet wide. People were screaming, signs were waved, costumes worn, and the road was all chalked up. At one point to couple of fans ran out and helped give me a quick push. I heard someone call my name and almost crashed trying to see who it was. When I reached the summit, I knew I was going to make it back to Penticton. A woman, who was only wearing what appeared to be a sign made of construction paper that said “Looking for an Iron Husband” greeted me with a friendly “Welcome to the Summit”. The most beautiful words in the world.
I descended quickly back into Penticton, but was greeted with a pounding rain storm and gail force winds that almost stopped me dead in my tracks. My knees were killing me and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to run. What if my hamstring seized up when I got off the bike? As I pulled into transition, soaked, I handed my bike to a lovely volunteer and proceeded off to find my Bike-To-Run Bag.T2 went very slow for me. I wanted to change clothes. I wanted to rest my knees. I wanted to take some Ibuprofen, which I was smart enough to pack in both run bags, and I needed to tape my nipples up before the run. It hurt sitting down and it hurt even more standing back up. Normally, T2 is faster than T1, but I was almost twice as long in T2. I didn’t want to start a marathon until I knew I was ready to go.
I headed out on the longest run of my life.
The run course has a small out and back along Lakeshore drive, and then a long out and back to OK Falls, followed by a short out and back along Lakeshore drive again before you can finally finish. I wanted to be heading up Main Street to OK Falls before the first pro athlete made it back to Lakeshore Drive. Once again the crowds were incredible. As I headed down Lakeshore, people cheered wildly. Then I saw a real treat. Todd, Jenny, Theo, and Charlie where cheering like mad. It was great to see them. As I left Lakeshore Drive and headed towards mainstreet, I was greeted to another surprise… Astrid was starting her Marathon too. Knowing how fast she runs, I expected her to catch me soon.
My strategy was simple. Run at a slow and steady pace, in my aerobic zone. I was doing 12 minute miles. That’s a crawling speed, but it’s still faster than walking and I knew if I could just keep that up, I’d be passing people. It was one of my goals to run the entire marathon. Half way up main street I saw the lead runner coming back in. After I got out of town, I saw Lisa Bentley leading the females back in. I started having a few gas issues shortly into the run and didn’t touch anything at the first couple aid stations. After that, I started drinking at every aid station, sometimes water, sometimes Gatorade. I think I had a few pretzels at mile 9. At mile 10, I decided to use an outhouse. I was sure Astrid would pass me while I was on the shitter. The hills started. I managed to convince myself not to walk until the turn around. I saw my coach at mile 12. I asked about Astrid. He hadn’t seen her. Where was she?At the turn around I grabbed my special needs bag and downed some more IBU. Then I started off again. When I reached my coach, I still couldn’t see Astrid, but it was just shortly after that I saw her coming the other way. She was still the same distance back. I knew something had to be wrong. (Later I found out she was having her own GI issues) I kept pushing. I started having chicken noodle soup. On the last hill near OK Falls around mile 15, I finally had to walk. My heart rate was increasing too much, and I thought I might bonk. Once at the top, I had a gel and started running again. With 10 miles to go I started doing gels every 2 miles. That was awesome. I started feeling much better.
I don’t remember when I came to the realization that my knees weren’t hurting anymore, but I didn’t pick up the pace for fear that they might get worse again. When I reached the city limits, I knew I was home free. All I had to do was make it down mainstreet and then the victory lap on Lakeshore Drive. People were still cheering from the sidelines after 12 hours. Krista and Mike cheered me on from the Sag Wagon they were driving. I could hear the finishline as I got closer.
The final turn onto Lakeshore is marked with a 25 mile marker and I could feel a tear whelling up inside me. I pumped my fist into the air to celebrate getting a cheer from the crowd and started down Lakeshore one last time without even looking towards the finish line I was passing on my right. Jenny and Todd were still there cheering. I was elated.
I tried to take one last sip of coke from the final aid station before making an effort to finish strong. I spilled most of it all over me. I had a good gap between the runner ahead of me and the runner behind, and I wanted to make sure the finishline officials had a chance to see me coming and call out my name (not to mention give the photo guys ample opportunity to get my finishline photo). I remembered to peel off the reflective tape I was wearing(screws up the pictures). I took off my sunglasses and hat and proceeded down the finishline bleachers, through the fans. A huge smile broke across my face as I heard the announcer call out, “Darren Arcuri of Calgary, Alberta. YOU are an IRONMAN!”A guy grabbed me by the arm as I came in. He was quickly replaced by my coach, Grant, who was also on catcher duty. Grant lead me over to where I get my medal. He gave me a finisher’s cap and T-shirt. He was about to lead me off to get my picture when I remembered that Astrid should be right behind me. I wanted to stay at the finish line and see her cross. I was given some Gatoraid and ran into Katie who was also doing a finish line catcher shift. They both waited with me for Astrid. Then my world started to go black and I knew I was about to faint. I warned both Grant and Katie and then attempted to sit down and lie on my back, hoping to get the blood back to my head. It wasn’t graceful, and I think I startled Katie as I toppled over. I was soon surrounded by volunteers trying to offer me Pepsi. I was already feeling better but I took the Pepsi anyway. When I looked up again, Astrid was walking over to me with a confused look on her face. “What happened to you?” she said.
I replied, “I’m an Ironman!”
Part 3 The Training and Thanks
Ironman is a selfish sport. I don’t know how some couples can do it (let alone those with kids), but thank god Astrid was there to train with me. It requires so much of your time and energy. If Astrid hadn’t of been there to train with me, we likely wouldn’t have seen each other. But, as it turned out, we were able to train together all year, and I believe this actually helped strengthen our relationship. I’ve heard about many couples that’ve split up because of the Ironman, and I can understand why. It’s not that you don’t want to spend time with others… you CAN’T spend time with others. The training schedule is very demanding. Astrid and I have a lot of catching up to do with friends and family this year… if they’ll let us.
For those who are curious, here are the yearly stats that I put in to become an Ironman…
- 253 hours of cycling
- 189 hours of running
- 68 hours of swimming
- 177 hours of misc. other activities (hiking, skiing, etc)
- 655 hours of total training over 47 weeks (14hrs/week average)
The costs are just as impressive. The $500 US entry is just a drop in the bucket compared to how much you’ll spend on equipment, coaches, programs, memberships, training camps, food, travel, etc. (Not to mention the tattoo afterwards) Though I’m sure it can be done for less than what we’ve spent, your first Ironman will be expensive. It’s definitely not a cheap sport.
The year leading up to the race was a year of great achievements for me. Besides Ironman, I finished my first half marathon in November. (As I said, I had never run more than 10 – 15km at any one time before) I finished my first marathon in May. And I finished my first ½ Ironman in June. (Interesting fact, they say you can estimate your Ironman time by doubling your ½ time and adding an hour. My half time was 5:55:12, which would have predicted 12:50:24. I was 12:51:18. Not bad) I had 3 time goals and 3 personal goals for the race. The time goals were C=17hrs(just finish), B=15hrs(having a tough day), A=13hrs(everything goes great). My personal goals were to run the entire marathon, be out on the run course before anyone had finished, and place in the top half. If you don't count the small section of one hill I had to walk, I made every goal I set for myself.
We worked with a lot of really great people throughout the year. Our program coach was Grant Molyneux (Vitalize). His program, Ironman for Mortals, was a great foundation that we used to shape our training. It’s his philosophies that I used the most throughout the year to help me reach this goal. Leanne Manlove, and the rest of the ETS program trainers provided great workouts in the fall and winter months at the Talisman Centre. Most of my swimming was also done through the Triathlon Swim program at Talisman. Tony Smith, of UCTC, provided excellent training workouts throughout the year, and also put together what is undeniably the greatest training camp on the planet… Maui Extreme. The cherry on the sundae was the Ironspirit training camp in Penticton with Kevin Cutjar(Impact Multisport) and Cal Zaryski(Critical Speed). They provided a lot of insight and experience that gave me alot of confidence going into the race and I’d recommend either of their programs to those seeking to improve on their performance.
Once again, thanks to all our family and friends for their support. The words of encouragement and astonishment really meant a lot. I’ll probably do another one, someday, but not for a few years. That said, I don’t want to lose the fitness I’ve achieved this year. I’d actually still like to improve, but I don’t want the training to take over my life like it did last year. I’ll probably do some half ironmans, some Olympic distances, and a few sprint distances (my fav) but I want to spend more time mountain biking, hiking, skiing, touring… and spending time at the new place in Invermere.
Hope you all can come out.
The year leading up to the race was a year of great achievements for me. Besides Ironman, I finished my first half marathon in November. (As I said, I had never run more than 10 – 15km at any one time before) I finished my first marathon in May. And I finished my first ½ Ironman in June. (Interesting fact, they say you can estimate your Ironman time by doubling your ½ time and adding an hour. My half time was 5:55:12, which would have predicted 12:50:24. I was 12:51:18. Not bad) I had 3 time goals and 3 personal goals for the race. The time goals were C=17hrs(just finish), B=15hrs(having a tough day), A=13hrs(everything goes great). My personal goals were to run the entire marathon, be out on the run course before anyone had finished, and place in the top half. If you don't count the small section of one hill I had to walk, I made every goal I set for myself.
We worked with a lot of really great people throughout the year. Our program coach was Grant Molyneux (Vitalize). His program, Ironman for Mortals, was a great foundation that we used to shape our training. It’s his philosophies that I used the most throughout the year to help me reach this goal. Leanne Manlove, and the rest of the ETS program trainers provided great workouts in the fall and winter months at the Talisman Centre. Most of my swimming was also done through the Triathlon Swim program at Talisman. Tony Smith, of UCTC, provided excellent training workouts throughout the year, and also put together what is undeniably the greatest training camp on the planet… Maui Extreme. The cherry on the sundae was the Ironspirit training camp in Penticton with Kevin Cutjar(Impact Multisport) and Cal Zaryski(Critical Speed). They provided a lot of insight and experience that gave me alot of confidence going into the race and I’d recommend either of their programs to those seeking to improve on their performance.
Once again, thanks to all our family and friends for their support. The words of encouragement and astonishment really meant a lot. I’ll probably do another one, someday, but not for a few years. That said, I don’t want to lose the fitness I’ve achieved this year. I’d actually still like to improve, but I don’t want the training to take over my life like it did last year. I’ll probably do some half ironmans, some Olympic distances, and a few sprint distances (my fav) but I want to spend more time mountain biking, hiking, skiing, touring… and spending time at the new place in Invermere.
Hope you all can come out.
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