Race Report

Here's what we know: Dr. Jensen put together an impressive top-ten effort, J. Carlson struggled through some bad luck for a solid finish, Brent Ruby ran in a skirt, Matty bent his first Ironman over a rail, Emily soldiered through a long day and made some friends along the way, Jeff had a rough day but did work and finished, James was pummeled in the swim, tuned-up in transition and managed a good sub-11 hour day, Geoff L'Hashdgoasoidfjaodijf of Mountain Endurance qualified for Hawaii, and Linsey lived a dream...likely for all of us.

Here's what you don't know: Ironman is dumb. The swim comprises only about 8-10% of the race, the bike is just really long and it hurts your legs, and on the run, like a battlefield in the War of Northern Aggression, people starve, vomit, fall over, die, and defecate on themselves. And to make things worse, you have to deal with the "M-dotted" uber-type-A, narcissistic a-holes which are triathletes, AND their families. Ironman is a fools errand.

So the best way to spend an Ironman is cheering, as an Ironfan. One doesn't have to train too much. One needs no taper. One doesn't have to stop drinking the beverage alcohol or go on strange diets. It's like cramming all of your first college spring break into one weekend... at least that's how it is if you're from Missoula, Montana and the race is Coor 'Da Layne. Being my first Kore d'alane experience, I will provide journalist objectivity and photographic perspective of the tough, thankless, exhausting, and often hung-over work of an Ironfan.

Ironfanning starts several days out with careful statistical preparation of the competitors, their opponents, their goals, and trying to figure out what their racing kit looks like. Also, route planning for cheering must be undertaken before race day. A good Ironfan will ride bikes 50-70 miles the day of the race. Coach Elliot is really good at both of these things. Next, a suitable outfit must be worn. You can't ride 70 miles in just anything, but you also can't cheer in just anything. I opted for rolled up Carhartts, a JV women's track jersey from Ryegate, Montana circa 1986 (which I later switched for a Sharpied bare chest (more on that later)), a cowboy hat (thanks Brendan), cycling shoes and a cow bell.


The night before is generally a mellow night... FOR THE RACERS. Ironfans, however, hang out with the racers, encourage them, taunt them with the Gin & Tonics that they can't have (sorry Matty, I owe you a bottle), then head downtown Chord Alane" for shenanigans.


This is an infectious and exhilarating time (even Dr. Jensen's mother was caught up in the moment)


in which one gets carried away and thinks it is a good idea to order 30 shots of tequila,


light a bar table on fire, give ones underwear to a bachelorette party,


be kindly asked to patronize another bar, and generally wreak havoc.




The catch is that sometime around 1 AM one realizes that he or she has no place to sleep (premeditated sleeping arrangements are prohibited for Ironfans) and must be on the beach for the pro-start in 5 hours. In another Montana first, I slept in my car:


Others slept in a yard:


Ironfans then embark on a day of cheering.


It is an exhausting endeavor which requires good hydration and nutrition (this should also be planned out ahead of time). ...but there are no aide stations for Ironfans. No, Ironfans are on their own. There is no one to cheer on an Ironfan and you don't get a medal at the end of the day. At the end of the day all an Ironfan has is chaffing from riding 50 miles in Carhartts, tendonitis in his wrist from excessive cowbell ringing, no voice, a sunburn, a headache, and a long drive home.

... and the knowledge that you played a small part in what is, no matter what, an epic day for everyone involved. When Ironman Champion Linsey Corbin finds some breath in a blistering 3:05 marathon to say "You guys are really helping me out," or an Ironfan's hero recognizes him as the guy with his name emblazoned on his chest after the race and thanks him for cheering, an Ironfan doesn't need a medal.