8 Steps to Insanity
Ironman Coeur D'Alene - June 2004
Have you ever planned something in such detail and with such precision and then watched it evolve the same way? A trip, a party...
the materialization of a goal..all planned in your mind, and strategically put into motion in an orderly fashion. And then you sit
back and watch with satisfaction as it all unfolds before you - just as you expected it to - all due to your magnificent planning?
I have. Many times, in fact. I am one of those lucky people who is gifted when it comes to multi-tasking...AND who is a type-A
personality. A lethal combination in the 'plan-making' world. Until the one variable enters into play that you have absolutely no
control over...the one factor that can bring even the most talented and successful event organizer down to her knees and whispering
prayers of help - your family.
The 'plan' seemed simple: to gather my four siblings together, for the first time in years, in the same place for an entire
weekend. The location - Coeur D'Alene Idaho. The event - to watch their youngest sister compete in her second Ironman Triathlon.
I hadn't initially planned for that to be the focus, or the date for this family reunion. But after many alternate dates were
suggested and slapped down by one or all of them, June 28th, 2004, seemed to be the one that everyone actually bought an airline
ticket for. So, Jen-the-planner-extraordinaire got to work making a weekend that would run smoothly...finding canceled hotel
rooms that had been booked solid for months, synchronizing airline arrivals, transport, and activities to keep everyone busy
and happy..AND that would keep me calm on a weekend that would have me already uptight. But what was planned,and what actually
transpired...well, let's just say it made the weekend 'interesting'. But despite the unpredicted mishaps, and occasional d
isorganization, a long, tedious day of racing turned into an act of pride. And when it was all said and done, the weekend had me
chuckling all the way home and loving my crazy family even more. So, here is my list of "How you, too can make an Ironman weekend
Chaotic". Yes, it will tell you the story of the race itself , but it will also introduce you to the family I was born into, and who
in part, make me who I am.
#8) The first setback of the weekend had me in tears. My brother calls me two days before his planned arrival...to tell me
he isn't coming. A family urgency had forced him to cancel his plans. What could I say? I fought back tears as I listened to the
sadness in his voice. John is my biggest fan next to Nic. He would come to every race I ever did if he could afford it financially
and weren't a great dad. I knew that for him to bail on me last minute like this - it had to be a really hard decision. But it was
the right decision. Ok, so at least now Nic only had to contend with meeting the two Garretson sisters. Compared to meeting 'big
brother', this would be a 'piece of cake' right? Yah..uh huh.
#7) Next, came the announcement of 'sister mishap' number one. Judi, in her efforts to get back into running, and hoping to
run the last few miles of Ironman with me as support, tripped and broke her foot two weeks earlier. She was still coming of course.
But now, her left foot encased in a bright purple cast and restricted to crutches over short distances, she was going to get a tour of
Coeur D'alene...via a wheelchair. Her spirits were good, her enthusiasm undaunted, and knowing Judi...we were in for a weekend of fun.
Little did I know what that would actually entail.
#6) Then there was my sister Joan - she was the most excited to come I think! Being a teacher and with limited time off, she
had the most difficulty finding a weekend she
could attend this family get-together. This final choice of dates was do-able and she eagerly bought her ticket. But in the meantime, lost
in her busy preparation for her Idaho visit, she failed to mention the fact that earlier that week? She had been hit by a car while riding her
bike, smashing her face so hard into the vehicle that her face had swollen and discolored to the likings of some mis-shapen grapefruit!
What is going on here??! I was starting to have these bad kharmic premonitions as to my upcoming triathlon - 2 out of 3 Garretson sisters already 'down for the count', and an unpredicted upset in my brother's world - holy cow! What was next? But she showed up anyways, all limbs intact, and although she got her 'bell rung' pretty hard, a CAT scanned proved what we already knew - Garretson girls have very thick heads.
#5) Somehow, people rarely seem to arrive at airports on time if I have to pick them up. Surprisingly, I had picked up Judi as scheduled and the next day was fairly uneventful. We slept in a bit, I did a practice swim, we had coffee, drove the bike course and had dinner. Hmmm. Maybe we were on a roll. Nic and Joan were scheduled to arrive that night within 30 minutes of each other at the Spokane airport, which was a solid 40 minute drive from CDA. We didn't care. We were excited to see them, and the race was still one day away, so a second semi-late night drive wouldn't be a problem. Until Nic called and said his aircraft was delayed...and then delayed again...until we finally found ourselves stretched out across the floor in baggage claim with our eyelids drooping at 11:30 pm. We had one flurry of excitement to keep us awake when of all odd coincidences, Judi (who is from Kentucky) spots one of the members from her church back home in the Spokane airport. Weird! Especially, when you think about the day and time of night. She hurried herself out the door in a frantic attempt to flag them down. We laughed as she barely avoided smashing her cast into a piece of luggage and chuckled at her ill attempts at maneuvering her wheelchair around pedestrians.
#4) We finally gathered up all the required personnel and their respective luggage, loaded up everything into Nic's truck and drove the forty minutes back to our hotel in Couer D'Alene. And that's when Judi realized...that her purse was missing. As well as all the credit cards and cash (who uses Travelers Checks anymore?) within it. It was 1am. We all stared at her in disbelief. This was supposed to be my last 'quality' night of sleep before the race on Saturday. And it was slowly slipping away from me. We checked, and double-checked the entire contents of the truck and it's cab - no purse. Judi was near panic. I was exhausted. But Joan and Nic stepped up. "I can take her back", Nic offered, assuming the loss occured somewhere in her frenzied attempt to hail down her friends in the baggage claim area. "Let's make a few calls, so the trip is not a waste", Joan was already in motion, making the necessary connections to get a number to airport security. How she got a number at all at 1am on a Thursday, I'll never know. How in the world they were even lucky enough to see Judi's purse on the sidewalk and rescue it before any contents were removed, was amazing. But there it was - back in Spokane. We all sighed. We may as well go get it now. Tomorrow was going to be too busy of a day. So we checked Joan into her room, loaded Judi and her crutches back into the truck, and AGAIN drove 40 minutes BACK to the airport, while I tried unsuccessfully to catch a nap in the back seat.
#3) So, before we move on...let me tell you of the one additional 'glich' we ran into that night. Oh yah, it gets better. The hotel had given my sister's room away to another customer. It was 1am, remember? And this was the last thing we needed to hear. So, it took an additional 20 -30 minutes as the funny, animated but frantic night-shift clerk scrambled to try and figure out how she could scrounge up a room for two people at this hour, that was accessible by a wheelchair or crutches. I am not sure what strings she had to pull to get it done, but somehow everyone ended up in a bed that night. Was all this really happening?
#2) So, Friday came and went. I got another practice swim in, and Nic helped me sort out all of my gear and prep my bike. I am a lucky girl to have such support from my boyfriend. This time, the race itself seemed to be the most predictable aspect of the weekend. So when race day arrived, I was actually fairly calm. I mean, what else could possibly go wrong? Well, I wouldn't actually label it 'wrong' but the day took on a life of it's own, as the Garretson sisters found a way to leave their mark on the small town of Couer d'Alene. During the race, Nic had worked out an excellent relay system using two hand-held radios. Judi was to stay parked in the shadows of a tree on a spectator-friendly corner, in order to avoid the 90 degree temperatures. Nic, able-bodied and overly excited to cheer on his girlfriend, would run out and down the street looking for me on the bike or on the run segments as the course zigzagged through the town. Once he sighted me, Nic would radio in my location and time to Joan, who would then run over to Judi and push her and her wheelchair hurriedly off the grass to the curbside so she could wave and yell to her baby sister.
Well, as you can imagine, anything my family does - rarely goes unnoticed. 
And unknown to me, this scenario was causing quite the scene on the streets. In fact, at one point in her frantic attempt to get Judi's wheelchair in it's curbside position, one of the castor wheels actually broke and FELL OFF! Luckily, there were a couple of big guys nearby who witnessed this fiasco and who immediately came to the rescue of these two bewildered and battered-looking maidens. Too funny. In addition, we had 8-10 of our Hash House Harrier friends were also there, supporting the crew of eight who traveled from Boise to take on this event. They, combined with the crazy scene my sisters had created, quickly became the loudest, and most boisterous group on the steets. Which of course....drew the attention of a local newspaper reporter. Yup, that's right. My sisters were in town less than 72 hours...and they ended up on the front page of the Sunday paper. Fascinated by the purple cast, the bruised face, the wheelchair and the crescendo of roaring applause whenever they spotted me on the course, this reporter saw a special interest story in this crazed group of fans. Yah, my sisters are 'special' alright. How little did he know.
#1) Sunday was a day to relax. I was pooped. And I was happy to spend the day eating, drinking beers, and relaxing with my family. We had updated my brother via cellphone on an hourly basis during the race. And today, he was getting a laugh (although he was not too surprised) hearing about the antics of the Garretson sisters. I had 2 more trips to make to the airport over the next 24 hours, a route that was growing a little too familiar to me. One was to take Nic back and the other to deposit my sisters. I was starting to feel as if the truck had homing beacon in it by now. I, myself, spent part of the day packing up my bike and loading the truck for the seven hour drive back to Boise. I didn't really dread it though. Nic was generous enough to give the luxory of driving his new Toyota Tundra Crew Cab - a huge truck with lots of room for gear, that had a sweet ride, and a powerful engine to match. We often joked about 'feelin' the ponies' when the thrust from it's engine had us reaching 70-80 mph in a matter of seconds. Oh yah...lots of power, baby! Well, this is where the final brushstroke of this painfully, and perfectly designed weekend...was smeared. I got a speeding ticket. And not just a little one. It was a doozy. In order to get back to Boise, there is a small section of highway that passes through Spokane, Washington. And it was here...as I accelerated back onto the freeway after making a bri
ef, but needed 'pitstop'..that I missed the sign that mentioned that I was entering a construction zone. And as soon as I got off the ramp, I saw the patrolman smugly flagging me over. I was so busted. I was doing 75 in a 55mph zone. Nice. How was I going to get out of this one? I did my best to sound pathetic. I did my best to look tired and listless, as if it were a direct result of the laborous effort I had made two days earlier. He didn't care. He didn't even notice my bike with its Ironman race number on the back of the truck. And as a final desperate act, I even made a feeble attempt to flirt with him - until I noticed the ring on his finger. Great. There goes $175.
So there you have it - another Ironman triathlon under my belt, and one of the funniest weekends in my family history. I can't say it won't happen again. I think it's destiny of sorts that anytime family members get together, some sort of chaos will evolve. It's what keeps the energy flowing and the laughter continuous. Let's just hope we can stay out jail, as well as the papers, next time.
Cheers,
Jen.