When I met Jerome years ago he was working hard towards a giant goal: Kona. It literally took us years to get there, but we finally did in 2022. We raced that fateful year when they overbooked and split the days and ultimately got themselves semi-uninvited from the island due to the strain it put on the local infrastructure. We were glad to have gone, but it really wasn’t the magical experience we’d built it up to be in our minds. We decided one was enough and we’d pursue other races in the future. And then Marlynne happened.
I’ve known Marlynne since last year. Jerome and I had the opportunity to participate in the Special Olympics USA Games where I guided my long-time Tri partner Thomas Welsh and Marylnne was there competing in flag football. She had already started into her Tri journey but couldn’t do both at the games. Soon after, she started getting more serious about triathlon and started coming to our races and competing as one of the few un-guided athletes (mostly because it was difficult to find a guide that could keep up). She was awesome. She was competing with the top athletes right from the start.
Last Fall, Chris Nikic took on Kona and made waves in the Tri community. He showed the world that Special Olympics athletes are as tough and strong as anyone else and that they could go the distance. Following his success, more athletes decided they wanted to try the longer races.
A small group started training together, guided by the Chris’ 1% Better philosophy and supported by his foundation, to take on a 70.3. Four athletes competed in the summer of 2023 at Eagleman 70.3 and four finished, further proving they are beyond capable. Several more have taken on the distance since then. The two females (Marlynne and Adrienne Bunn) that conquered the 70.3 distance were offered sponsored bibs at Kona.
A bit of fate came into play the weekend of Eagleman. Nik Nikic had rented the whole crew (athletes, parents, and guides) and big airBnB to stay in and when Marlynne learned she was to share a room with her father she was not pleased (he snores!). I offered to share my room with her and we were instant best buddies. So, following the 70.3, and upon being offered the slot at Kona, she asked if I would guide her.
She spent the next 5 months working harder than I’ve ever seen an athlete work to prepare herself for the ultimate test in triathlon- one many seasoned triathletes are nervous to take on- and she would undertake it as her first full Ironman.
We arrived in Kona eight days before the race. We were racing as part of the Ironman Foundation so in addition to the regular full slate of activities on race week we had several additional obligatory IMF events to attend. We chose carefully and minimized our social engagements as best we could. We slept a lot, sampled the course while keeping our workouts short and easy, and tried to keep the mood calm and relaxed.
When race day finally arrived, Mar seemed calm and ready. We got into transition nice and early. The ID (Intellectual Disability) division gets their own designated transition area where they can keep everything (bikes and gear bags), so we triple checked that everything was where we needed it and got suited up for the swim. Athletes in her division also each get a “handler” who is like a personal assistant in transition. We had the sweetest woman named Valerie. She helped us get ready then escorted us to the start line. We got to start just behind the pros so stood right next to them before the start- pretty neat! After the pros had been announced and sent out to tread water at the start line, we were instructed to enter the water and start making our way toward the start. We arrived just before the cannon went off to start the pros. They moved us up the last bit to be right on the line and we laughed and chatted with one of the paddle boarders while we waited for our start. We were so enjoying our chat we didn’t even really register when the gun went off. I remember saying “oh wow I guess it’s time to go!” And so we went.
Marlynne is a strong swimmer. She’s swam competitively since she was a little kid. For all the things that were and remain developmentally difficult for her, swimming has never been one of them. I had stressed, however, that we were still going to go slow enough that she got out of the water completely fresh. We had practiced swimming next to each other many times. My job was to sight the course and match her pace, her job was to stay right next to me and go easy. It went absolutely perfectly.
We got to the swim exit ramp side by side but she shot out of the water like a gun leaving me behind. Luckily Valerie was there to intercept her and guide her to our tent (it’s outside the normal flow and the volunteers would have steered her the wrong way). As soon as I caught up I put a hand on her shoulder and said “Look at me, take a deep breath, relax, this is an Ironman not a sprint, take your time”. She listened. She slowed down and let Valerie go through the checklist she had written down of everything we needed to do in T1 (and later T2). A few minutes later we were headed out on the bikes.
Ventum and the Chris Nikic foundation had worked together to get Marlynne a brand new bike. Unfortunately, she had only had it for about a month before Kona, so her already tentative nature while riding was only amplified by the lack of practice and familiarity. But I was prepared for that. I had accepted we would brake on every downhill and nearly come to a stop on turns. What I hadn’t anticipated was the issues we would have with nutrition. The unique configuration of the Ventum frame doesn’t allow for water bottle cages in the traditional spots between your legs. It does have a built in hydration reservoir but it only holds about 30 oz and isn’t easy to refill while moving (certainly not an option for Marlynne). So she had added behind-the-seat bottle holders. She was only comfortable reaching back with her left hand (she’s left handed) and wasn’t comfortable grabbing nutrition while riding at the aid stations. So that meant we had the ability to hold enough fluid for maybe 2.5 hours and would need to stop to refill. My plan was to make two stops- around mile 40 and around mile 80. And then we hit a bump and the rear bottle fell out. Damn, we would have to stop sooner. So we stopped around 15, refilled the reservoir, racked another bottle. The skinnier Gatorade bottle didn’t even make it a mile. The tiniest bump and it fell out. And so we ended up having only the reservoir to work with and would end up stopping 5 times. We accepted that curveball and kept going. Besides being constantly heckled and blue carded for “drafting” (my guide bib apparently wasn’t big enough for people to read), it was all going really well up until Hawi. People refer to Hawi, the biggest climb on the Kona bike course, as a mountain and talk it up to be a big crazy difficult section. Yes it’s a long uphill and yes it can be quite windy. But it’s not steep. We had ridden it earlier in the week. I knew she’d have no problem. She sailed up it like it was nothing. The problem was at the top. There’s always a big crowd up there and this year was no different. I knew our crew would likely be up there. I also know Marlynne doesn’t like crowds, noise, or distractions when she’s competing. I spotted her Dad just before the turn around on the uphill side and assumed the rest were with him. I waved, and guided Marlynne past him, through the turn around, and pulled off the road just before the aid station where there was some space and not too many people. It was still pretty chaotic though and in the chaos Marlynne lost her balance and tipped over (from standing, not riding). A volunteer ran over and asked what we needed then ran off to get us gatorades. And then the crew came running up. They were really excited to see Marlynne and quite animated in their excitement. The compounding stress of the fall, the noise, the crew- she was getting upset. I could see it. Once again I put my hand on her shoulder and said “Look at me, forget everyone else, block them out. Are you ok?” “Kinda” “Are you ok to ride?" “Yes" “Keeps your eyes on me, I’m going to lead us out, here we go”. We pulled back onto the road and started riding again. I signaled for her to pull up next to me (I only lead into and out of aid stations, the rest of the time she leads so I give her no drafting advantage). We’d been stopped for several minutes but she looked like she’s just done a full out sprint. Flushed, winded, and clearly upset. I told her “I know that was hard, but it’s over. Now it’s just you and me for the next several hours. Peaceful and quiet. Let’s just go for a nice bike ride together, just like at home. Easy peasy” and she started to relax. The rest of the ride went great. She’s so strong.
We got to T2 and once again Valerie was waiting for us. She escorted us back to our tent and went through our next check list. Ready to run, we headed out a final time.
Everyone goes too fast out of T2. It’s the oldest mistake in the book and yet we all still do it. And this was Marlynne’s turn. We weren’t even off the transition carpet and I could feel myself working hard- I shouldn’t be working hard. I looked at my watch- 7:30 pace. Uh oh. “Mar slow down!!” She did. A little. 8:00 pace. Still way too fast. I was predicting we would average around 10 min/mile pace at best. She’s going to burn too many matches. “Mar, you HAVE to slow down!” “But this feels slow” “I know it does, but that’s all adrenaline, you have to go so slow it feels too slow” “Okaaayyy”. Still doing 9:00 pace. “Mar, do you trust me?” “Yes” “In about 6 miles you’re going to feel awful. It’s hot out, there’s a couple hills coming, and your body hasn’t even figured out we’re running yet, I NEED you to slow down. If I’m wrong and you still feel awesome 6 miles from now, we can speed up, ok?” “OK”. And she finally slowed back to 9:30 pace. Close enough. About 6 miles later she had to walk and then threw up. I’m not mean enough to say “I told you so” to someone ralphing while trying to run a marathon… but I think she got the point all by herself. After tossing her cookies she felt better and we were back running again- I told you she’s tough. We focussed on cooling her at the aid stations. Tons of hydration, ice in her suit, water on her head. She was soon feeling better. She did throw up once more around the half way point. We eventually figured out both occurrences were right after having a gel- strange since she was using the same ones she trains with. Once we figured that out she switched to bananas and had no further stomach trouble. We mostly walked the aid stations to ensure she got everything she needed and give her a short rest but otherwise ran and at a solid 9:30-10 min/mile pace all the way to the finish.
The finish line was great. Her dad and the Nikics were there to greet her and someone got a great picture of her nearly collapsing in her fathers arms, completely used up after her 12:42 Ironman debut performance.
A lot of people finish a huge goal like their first IM or Kona (let alone both) and go through a sort of post-event depression when it sinks in that it’s all over. Not Marlynne though. I had to really hold her back the weeks following as she wanted to jump right back into training and already had a list of races to sign up for next. Needless to say, she’s a force. And she’s only 25. Expect BIG THINGS to come from this one!
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