A Half Ironman Story

Friends,

Saturday (31 May 2003) was a milestone for me as I competed in my first Half-Ironman Distance Triathlon in <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /><st1:place w:st="on"><st1:City w:st="on">Hiawassee</st1:City>, <st1:State w:st="on">GA</st1:State></st1:place> (http://www.gsmtc.com/june.htm). It turned out to be quite an adventure - I hate that none of you were able to join us.
Cammie and I drove to Helen http://www.mindspring.com/~littlestar and checked into our hotel Friday before going on to the race site for a reconnaissance. I had never been to Helen and used the opportunity of this race to take Cammie, who had been to Helen before and wanted to visit this make believe Alpine town again (even the Huddle House is made to look like something from the <st1:place w:st="on">Alps</st1:place>).
On the map, Helen appears to be no more than 15 miles from Hiawassee, which was listed as the town of record for the race, so Helen seemed like a good place to stay the weekend. On the ground, those 15 map miles translated into 25 miles of roller coaster quality mountain highway, but we stuck with our plan of spending Friday night in Helen in spite of the additional travel time.
The packet pickup for the race that Friday was uneventful and it gave us an opportunity to look at the race course and meet some interesting folks who had registered for the race. I didn't catch his name, but there was one guy who was on leave from some sort of observatory in <st1:place w:st="on">Antarctica</st1:place> who had come up for the race. He had a full beard and a complete lack of any tan, so I referred to him during the race as Polar Bear. There was also a midshipman, an Air Force Pilot, a Marine Aviator, a gynecologist, a couple of additional Army officers, a sailor, a CPA, a guy who wore a utility belt like Batman, an eighteen year kid whose biggest concern was where he could find a restaurant open early enough to serve him ham and eggs for breakfast before the race, and some dude with orange hair that surfs full time (I think that is what he said - he was a real friendly guy, anyway). My wife commented to me immediately after the race that this was the most normal bunch of people she had ever met at one of my triathlons - I am still thinking that comment over.
The water we were to swim in was a brisk 72 degrees on Friday (which was also the temperature at race time), but since the air temperature was to be in the low 60s on race day, the water temperature was not a big deal to anybody, well, except for one person. Polar Bear was very anxious about the water temperature. He brought an insulated swim suit with him for the race. He said that he absolutely hated cold water. For the record, the guy from Antarctica swam this race with in a wet suit and yours truly, who has never lived north of Tennessee, swam in the mountain water with a swim cap and some triathlon-biking shorts on - and yes, I finished the swim in front of Polar Bear by several minutes.
The bike route (all 56 miles of it - http://www.gsmtc.com/map%20half%20IM%20run%20bike.htm ) appeared to be a very challenging, but somewhat fast course which ran mainly through the gaps of the mountains. During the recon, I took particular note of the stretch that ran "smack" through Smackass Gap. After the race, I determined from the way that I felt that it was indeed appropriately named.
It took us several hours to drive the bike route that wound through Hiawassee, GA, Ware, NC, Hayesville, NC, Shooting Creek, NC, and within a mile or two of Murphy, NC. As I began to tire just driving my car over this route, I started to fully appreciate what kind of physical effort this race was going to require from me - what had I gotten into?
After our recon was complete, we got on roller coaster 75 and went back to Helen to have dinner. Getting dinner proved to be harder than riding my bike through Smackass Gap. It seems that the smoking section in restaurants in Helen is everywhere except the parking lot. I am not antismoke like some of you are, but I am pro-breathing. We had to change restaurants in order to breathe, but we finally found some really good dinner at the Troll's Tavern (where we sat outside surrounding by five tables of people who lit up cigarettes as soon as we started eating - but it was much easier to handle outside - I told you that I am not antismoke!).
We woke up bright and early Saturday morning and arrived at the race in plenty of time for me to warm up and set up my transition area. I was ready to start racing.
True to my standard race template, I exited the water with the retired people and some of the slower women (there were no children in this race), but well ahead of Polar Bear and slightly ahead of the 21 year old midshipman.
This positioning might sound like a disadvantage, but it sets me up for a tremendous mental advantage during the race. I passed a lot of people during the bike and run who were good swimmers, but who weren't as strong on land. For instance, I passed that eighteen year old who wanted ham and eggs for breakfast during the bike (he never did find a restaurant open that early), and I was finishing the race as he was starting the run.
I actually struck up several interesting conversations during the bike ride. For one ten mile stretch, I talked with the gynecologist about some common interests. Then I talked with a group of guys about when in our lives we wanted to quit exercising and get fat and lazy. I was considering starting that lifestyle change on Sunday during the race, but now that it is done, I have pushed it back to age 70.
At a couple of different points in the race, I would ask my fellow racers, "Do you think that dog is really going to bite us? Do you think you can outrun him?" What I really was wondering was whether I could leave my fellow biker far enough behind so that the dog would eat him and not me. There were a few hairpin turns on the course and I came close to becoming a lawn ornament in one family's yard, but everybody seemed to survive the dogs and turns just fine.
There wasn't a great deal of traffic on the roads that we were racing on, but some of those folks acted as if they had never seen cyclists before. Many of them felt compelled to blow their horns at us and come as close to hitting us as they possibly could. They also had a very efficient manner (as far as finger usage is concerned) of waving at us. One aggressive driver gave us the one finger salute, questioned our sexual orientation and threatened to come back and beat us within an inch of lives. He infuriated me to the point that I reported him to the deputies that were controlling traffic for us. To my surprise, when I finished describing this guy and telling the deputy which direction he was heading in (he was heading into the town of <st1:City w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Murphy</st1:place></st1:City>), the deputy jumped in his car and turned on his lights and went after him immediately. I thought that Clay County, NC was the most bicycle friendly county in the <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">USA</st1:place></st1:country-region> when that happened. It was only later that day when I turned on the news that I figured out the real reason that deputy sped away like a bat out of Boaz (see timeline at the bottom of the email).
After finishing the bike in much better shape than I expected to be in, I attacked the run with everything I had left. Just in case I had any thoughts of looking tired or week, the race director had strategically placed a pit bull at the 11 mile mark to keep our adrenaline flowing. I had no doubts that I could not outrun the pit bull at this point in the race, so, I quickly developed what seemed at the time to be a brilliant plan. I decided that at the first sign of trouble, I would select the weakest looking runner in the vicinity and run at him while growling like a dog in order to convince the pit bull that I was really on his side. Luckily, I never had to implement this strategy. The last mile of that race was one of the happiest miles I have ever run. I felt a great sense of accomplishment and relief (and that was before I found out that I had helped solve one of the great mysteries of our time). I finished fourth in the military category and felt confident that I had left it all out on the course. When I got home to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:PlaceType w:st="on">Fort</st1:PlaceType> <st1:PlaceName w:st="on">Benning</st1:PlaceName></st1:place>, I discovered that I had really only left my biking helmet and sunglasses on the course, but I am sure that I will recover them eventually.
I want to challenge all of my friends to start training now for next year's edition of this race - it was a great time.

Jason Benefield

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,88269,00.html


Key dates in the hunt for Eric Rudolph:

July 27, 1996 -- Bombing of Atlanta's Centennial Olympic Park (search) kills a woman and injures 111 other people.

Jan. 16, 1997 -- Two bombs explode at an office building in the <st1:City w:st="on">Atlanta</st1:City> suburb of <st1:place w:st="on">Sandy Springs</st1:place>, injuring six. An abortion clinic in the building is believed to be the target.

Feb. 21, 1997 -- Nail-laden device explodes at the Otherside Lounge (search), a gay and lesbian nightclub in <st1:City w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Atlanta</st1:place></st1:City>. Five people are injured.

Jan. 29, 1998 -- Explosion kills a policeman and maims a nurse at an abortion clinic in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:City w:st="on">Birmingham</st1:City>, <st1:State w:st="on">Ala.</st1:State></st1:place>

Jan. 30, 1998 -- Rudolph stocks up on supplies in <st1:State w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">North Carolina</st1:place></st1:State> and vanishes.

Feb. 14, 1998 -- Rudolph is charged in the <st1:State w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Alabama</st1:place></st1:State> abortion clinic bombing.

March 17, 1998 -- Task force investigating the <st1:City w:st="on">Birmingham</st1:City> bombing is formally merged with a task force investigating the three bombings in <st1:City w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Atlanta</st1:place></st1:City>.

May 5, 1998 -- The FBI (search) adds Rudolph to its 10 Most Wanted list and offers a $1 million reward.

July 1998 -- Health food store owner in <st1:State w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">North Carolina</st1:place></st1:State> tells authorities Rudolph took six months' worth of food and supplies and a pickup truck from his home, leaving five $100 bills as payment.

Oct. 14, 1998 -- Rudolph is charged with the Olympic bombing and the two other attacks in the <st1:City w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Atlanta</st1:place></st1:City> area.

May 31, 2003 -- Rudolph gives triathletes the bird during the Hiawassee Half Ironman.

May 31, 2003 -- After more than five years on the run, Rudolph is captured when police spot him near a trash bin in Murphy, N.C., apparently scavenging for a blunt instrument to assault triathletes with.

June 2, 2003 -- Authorities announce Rudolph is to be tried first in <st1:City w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Birmingham</st1:place></st1:City>. Rudolph makes initial court appearance in <st1:City w:st="on">Asheville</st1:City>, <st1:State w:st="on">N.C.</st1:State>, and is then flown to <st1:City w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Birmingham</st1:place></st1:City>.

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