Alex, my (Half) Ironman

My husband has always led an active lifestyle. Even before we got together, Alex would have his weekly basketball games and continuously joined alumni leagues. Undoubtedly, basketball was his first love. He was passionate about the sport and with his height; one doesn’t need to wonder why. He had the advantage of scoring the numbers and shoot those hoops with a fierceness that can be likened to that of an energizer bunny. Whenever Alex engaged in basketball, he was in his element ... until his knees started to buckle up and slowly caught up with age. 

Alex along with his teammates from the Ateneo Basketball League.

Alex playing for his other school, La Salle. 

All the constant running from one side of the court to the other, and jumping up and down has taken its toll on his knees, and Alex was faced with the fact that he may have to change gears to pursue another sport – because not engaging in one is completely unthinkable. Upon the recommendation of Cardiologist Dr. Gary Lopez, Alex rekindled his love for swimming as well as biking nothing these applied less pressure on the knees. The idea of combining sports together: swim, bike, run; was fueled by friends who were well ahead into the field of triathlon. 

And so it began in 2013. Alex’s first race was the Triunited 1 that was held in March. With enough self-discipline, he trained on his own, allotting eight to ten hours a week mentally and physically preparing himself. After that first race, he ventured to another one in 2014, the 70.3 Ironman that was held in Cebu. In 2015, he joined two more, one in Mayon and another in Bohol. Alex joins these races not because he wants to rank amongst the fastest but, instead, he joins them purely for enjoyment, fitness, and experience. Even as he persistently trains to prepare for a triathlon, he refuses to be branded as a triathlete -- owning to the fact that there are others who are far more deserving of the title. Alex’s rationale is this ... he’s just a regular Joe who happens to join and enjoy triathlon races.

Alex and I during his first Triathlon Race, Triunited 1. 

A new motivation came about when the thought of joining a triathlon race abroad became feasible. Upon arriving from our Austrian hiatus last November 2016, Alex and I planned to re-visit Austria with our kids during their summer break the following year. As luck would have it, our trip happened to coincide with the Ironman 70.3 in St. Pölten, a city that was a short distance from Maria Anzbach. Each weighing our options and matters of logistics, Alex bit the bullet and signed up. Alex, the self-proclaimed non-professional, mediocre triathlete decided it best to be under the guidance and training of a coach, just to survive the rigors of a triathlon race away from his native land amongst the mightiest triathletes of the world. He then sought the services of a friend, Kevin Fule. Kevin is a triathlon coach -- a legitimate triathlete -- one of the strongest in the country. Kevin gave Alex a six-month daily training program that would last him till the two days before the actual race. When asked to describe his training schedule, Alex’s response was just one word  ... ‘challenging.’

First day of training on the bike with coach Kevin Fule. 

Alex's first try with his wetsuit. 

Months flew by quickly and Ironman St. Pölten was upon us. Our family arrived in Austria on May 18, 2017 a mere 4 days before the race, just 4 days to help Alex acclimatize to the weather. Without skipping a beat, Alex completed his program two days before race day as planned ... and just hoped for the best. During the morning of race day, however, in addition to the difficulty of the Ironman 70.3, the weather also turned nasty. The outside temperature a nipping 11 degrees celsius with occasional wind and rain, not to mention the freezing waters Alex was about to dive into seconds after the start. Alex readied himself and pressed on. 

Race day. Getting up before the crack of dawn to get everything in place. 

First up was the 1.9-kilometer swim. Diving into freezing waters with a wetsuit on should be a breeze, right? Or so I thought. The wetsuit, although it allows one to keep the core body temperature reasonably warm, does little to almost nothing to the exposed hands and feet. Despite being the swimmer that he was, fear and panic set in, Alex hailed a marshal within eight minutes, feeling that he was about to sink into the bottom of the first of the two lakes that he had to traverse.  Alex was hyperventilating and was in danger of drowning. Within seconds, the marshal came and asked him whether he would continue. With a minute to gather his thoughts and calm himself down, he decided to move on and just focused on the task ahead. 

Coming out of the water, Leo, the husband of my classmate Sigrid, who was on standby, knew that there was something off. Walking on to his bike, Alex confessed that he almost drowned and called a marshal, but managed to pull through somehow. While on the bike, on the second part of the race, the weather was kinder, the wind and rain dissipated. Now, it was the stringency of the roads, the ninety-kilometer bike ride and steep mountainside climb posed a different kind of severity. Alex’s consolation was the brief moments of peace while admiring the beauty of nature’s background.

Sigrid, along with the kids and I decided to come and see Alex around noon, as he was tackling the twenty-one-kilometer run, the final stretch of the race. When we got to our designated place, I was happily surprised to see my other classmates and friends who came and supported my husband. When Alex finally turned the corner, he too was pleasantly surprised to see the genuine support not only by his family but also of friends. Alex later expressed that it was our cheers, applauding him, that made the pain more bearable. He was equally overwhelmed by the constant applause he received from total strangers -- something that he was unfamiliar with. 

After Alex passed us twice, the gang proceeded to the finish line. The kids and I positioned ourselves where the medals were being handed out, and the rest climbed up to the bleachers. Alex requested that we meet him there because he wanted the girls to place the badge over him, and we obliged. One athlete after another, their names were called, and faces were shown on the widescreen. Music was blaring, people were cheering, and the atmosphere was a celebratory one. I understand the euphoria this all makes for the athletes who slaved their way through training and endure the actual race day. There were laughter and tears, both by the spectators and the racers alike. You really can’t help but feel emotional and jubilant at the same time. 

Alex's cheering squad. Composed of friends, classmates -- even children in their strollers, we all supported Alex and cheered him on!  

Bosom friends. Even before the crack of dawn, Leo was with Alex every step of the way, egging him on. What a trooper! We'll always be grateful. 

Family group hug. Holding back tears, Alex and I are grateful to be a part of this event surrounded by our girls, and our dearest friends. 

Distracted, Leo called my attention, saying Alex was about to approach the finish line. Excitedly, I positioned my phone and took a video; I knew I had to capture this moment. The commentators called his name and raved him on. As he ran to approach us, smiling from ear to ear, I know I couldn’t be prouder, and admittedly held back the tears (thank God for shades!). Six months of intense and early hours of training certainly paid off. Alex did it, and ticked it off his bucket list! At 39, he accomplished the Ironman 70.3 St. Pölten with his family waiting for him at the finish line. Alex was indeed over the moon!