Iron Man First Throw
This is an unusual name for this story, and I have no idea why my Dad called it this. But I keep the title as this is his story, and he must have had his reasons.
104 Burlngton Street,
Crows Nest,
N.S.W. Australia.
Tuesday 23rd April, 1996.
Edwin Butler met Sandra Groom at Landmark several years ago, Landmark being an organisation involving the science of communication, and the betterment of people’s lives. Sandra is associated with this wonderful group of human beings, and is in fact a Leader and a Coach. When Ed completed a course with Landmark, some time ago, the ‘SELP’ – Self Expression and Leadership Programme, which Sandra led, he wished to do something SPECIAL, maybe even OUTSTANDING. He asked around, and read various newspapers, and became aware of something coming up in NSW. ‘A Challenge’ which he considered not only outstanding, but somewhat awesome, and just maybe he would do it, and this Ed Butler set his mind on doing it. At this time, Ed had been in this country for a few years, and had left a job in the United States where he was making A$125,000 annually. Shortly after his arrival here, he formed a company with a few friends, and in this, their first year, made $500,000! This will show you the calibre of the man, he was just an Iron Man in the making.
‘The Challenge’ which inspired Ed, and caught his imagination was a competition very aptly named “IRON MAN” and which was, in fact, a TRIATHLON. This TRIATHLKON was held annually on the nort coast of NSW, in a placed called Forster. Forster is a beautiful little town situated approximately between Sydney and Brisbane, and is surrounded by more than its fair share of palms and gorgeous ‘white sanded’ bathing beaches. It is approached by crossing a spectacular little bridge over the captivating Forster Keys.
Ed had read up again and again on this Iron Man event which was coming up in six months time. It was a frightening task to be considering, one hundred and eighty kms of cycling, forty two kms of running, and just under four kms of swimming, all to be completed in under twelve hours. One wouldn’t have to wonder how they came up with it’s title! However, Ed ‘knew himself’ and he also knew that he was superbly fit, and commenced the necessary training and paperwork, and now considered himself to be on a countdown for the occasion. He was soon looking for a support team, a team he could trust to see him through, from the moment he left Sydney, to the end of the Iron Man ordeal. He had already made a number of phone calls and had booked two rooms in a magical little spot, Diamond Beach, twenty kilometres from Forster, the ‘Albana Motel’. The accommodation consisted of two small lounges cum kitchens, with two bathrooms, and with a bit of a push, sleeping for eight people.
Ed was already up and running. He had also booked his vehicle, a super Toyota Tarago, for the four days required, and planned to leave Sydney on Thursday 18th April.
He didn’t have to look too far for his support team. Amongst the wonderful types to be found at Landmark, he very quickly found two friends in the persons of Sandra Groom and Susan Fitzpatrick. Books could be written about the achievements of these two ladies (Sandra being my daughter!) Ed had been deeply impressed by these two and their help in his introduction to Landmark, and the incalculable assistance they had both given him ensuring that SELP was the great success that it was.
Sandra very quickly had her dear son conscripted. This fine young man, who has just commenced university, has done more in his nineteen years than some would achieve in a lifetime. Among some of the thins he has done include a three month stint in the USSR, six months travelling around the USA during his ‘gap year’ after completing high school, and two marathon cycle rides, one of them being from Sydney to Melbourne.
Sandra’s husband Gerald, plus my wife Vera and I, were to make up the team, but unfortunately my wife fell ill, and Gerald had to do an urgent business trip to the USA. So including yours truly, Sandra, Sue and Joshua - our team was now four.
Our plan to leave on Thursday 18th had to be shelved owing to the fact that Joshua, our cameraman, had to play a game of basketball on this day. Our departure was re-arranged for the following morning, all this considered knowing that Joshua is a very much south after basketball player in these parts. We eventually got away at 10 am the next day, Friday the 19th April. The trip would normally have taken four hours, but since our driver Sandra was anxious to show Ed one of her beloved stamping grounds en route, we did just this, and Ed seemed duly impressed with ‘Pacific Palms’, a place she loves, and often visits.
We got to our goal ‘Albana’ in a place named ‘Diamond Beach’ which was about twenty kms from Forster, later that afternoon, and got settled into our abode for the next three days. It was sunny but cool, and like most Australians we were averse to the cold. This would have been the same for Ed, born and bred in beautiful California.
Before our evening meal, we braved the elements and had a swim in the swimming pool at our accommodation, the temperature would have been about 17 degrees, or on our old scale, 60 degree Fahrenheit. Brrrrr. Our cooks, and chosen dieticians, Sandra and Sue, made us a super meal full of all the required vitamins, lots of fibre, legumes and vegetables, fit for any erstwhile Iron Men, after which we settled down to a couple of hours watching TV, then retired to our beds with books and newspapers.
The following day, Saturday, we all went off to Forster, firstly for Ed to take in his bike and to register as a definite competitor for the event, and also to pick up a fairly large plastic bag full of labels and various pieces of clothing to use and be worn by Ed the following day. Not forgetting his Iron Man T shirt, plus our official T shirts to be worn by us, marked ‘Support Team’, this made US all feel important too.
All this took place in the biggest marquee tent I have ever seen. We weren’t offered a meal in this tent, but everything else was free: lollies, every kind of drink and trinkets. After this, we took a stroll around Forster, and had a meal – Ed’s being carefully scrutinised by Sandra and Sue. We left then to have a look at the ‘Forster Keys’ area, where Ed would be starting his swim, and since we had all brought our swimming togs along, we decided to try the water. However, at the last moment, the girls said they would take a ‘rain check’ on this. So, without standing on ceremony, Ed, Josh and I found ourselves stripping off like any self-respecting Iron Men, and I being the lesser of the three, thought I would have to be the first man in the water, which I was. I was closely followed by Ed and Joshua. Since I was the first in, I had no hesitation of being the first out, I thought the water chilly to say the least. I stood on the bank drying myself, and watched Ed, and was duly impressed. I thought we had no problems with Ed in the FOUR KMS EVENT in the water, to me he looked like a champion.
When Ed and Josh came out of the water, the time was about 5 pm and we decided that we should all head back for Diamond Beach and our accommodation, as it was going to be an early start tomorrow and we didn’t want to tire out our Iron Man on the eve of his expected triumph. Sue drove back, Ed hadn’t been allowed to drive on this trip, Sandra drove from Sydney and Sue and Joshua had done the running around Forster, everything was being sacrificed for the well being of our Big Hope, Ed. On the way to Diamond Beach, Sue played our tape to be played the following day, the title of which I couldn’t tell you, but I found it inspiring, lots of noisy drums, and a certain rhythm which seemed to make one want to move, and we certainly wanted Ed to keep moving tomorrow! The general consensus was that the music would help, and there was one thing for sure, that when Ed heard this ‘noise’ he was not going to nod off to sleep!
Our Chefs Sandra and Sue promptly got on with the cooking of the evening meal, as this was to be our ‘Last Supper’ before the event. Sandra then fixed up her alarm for an early rise, no sleeping in, she set it for 3.30 am. We had just 8.5 hours to go before we left again for Forster and the final briefing. We had to leave ‘Albana’ by 4.30 am and be on site by 5 am, just one hour before the swim, which was to start promptly at 6 am.
We had our evening meal and watched TV for a while, and I was the first to retire. I was woken again at about 10.30 pm by the noisy TV, and I reminded those responsible just what was going to happen just a few short hours from then.
Sandra was awake first at 3.30 am and we were all allowed to sleep until just on 4 am, and I was up and around by 3.40 am. Ed must have been up about the same time because at 3.45 am he was tucking into his special breakfast, the ingredients of which were known only to his dietician, Sandra. I soon became aware of the odd grunt and mutterings, and I think it was Josh who said in almost disbelief, ‘God, its only ten to four!’ However, all went well, and everyone was fed, especially our Iron Man.
We all donned our warm weather gear, as it was nippy. It was just before 4.30 am and we were on our way, our seating was the same as always when we were together: Sandra was driving, I was sat with her in the front, and Ed, Sue and Josh were sat behind. Sue was busy once more with the tape which was going to lead Ed into a good finishing position. I had to be honest with myself and say the vest part about it was the end, but Ed thought it was good and it was going to help, so that was all that mattered. It was pitch dark and we knew that the only traffic we were seeing were proceeding, as we were, to the TRIATHLON, and by the numbers we saw there, it seemed like we may be the last ones to arrive. It was now just after 5 am.
If there were 1,000 competitors there just had to be 10,000 – 15,000 spectators - they were everywhere! There were lots of folks who, unlike us, were having their breakfast there, and the hot coffee and tea stands were very much in evidence. Even though we had just finished breakfast, we couldn’t wait to avail ourselves of more coffee and tea. The sea air around us was cold but the atmosphere here, to say the least, was electric.
We now knew just where Ed’s bike was, this was the place he would be making for when he came out of the water, and the very thought of that water made me shiver. We were all warm, but we were wearing the warmest clothing, Ed was about to strip down to his scanties, and oh! that water! It was only 17 degrees in the sun about twelve hours ago! There was an announcement made that all swimmers would have to be in the water and ready to swim at 5.50 am. Ed was away at this time, and I hoped that he would be getting himself smeared with grease of some sort to warm off the biting cold. It turned out later, that he was doing just that.
We made a plan that the four of us would mill around by the waters edge so that we could cheer him on when he came out of the water, and I would stand by his bicycle to cheer him off onto his bike ride, which was just as well, as it seemed everyone else had a similar plan. We were stood by the water and watched Ed go in right within the limits, it was 5.50 am and we watched him go in up to shoulder depth. It was about this time that one of the TV channel helicopters came over, and hovered over the thousand competitors, and about this time it started to drizzle with rain. The whipping blades of the helicopter made the whole situation more miserable than ever, and maybe dropped the temperature another five degrees. At 6 am it could have been a starters gun which set the swimmers off, but no-one heard it. There seemed to be noise coming from every direction, and almost as loud of the rotors of the helicopter. We could hear the plodge of the arms of the one thousand competitors, it was a slop slop, and they appeared to be slapping each other’s backs.
They were OFF, for a moment we all thought that we saw Ed, but we weren’t sure. The scene was incredible, I could only compare it with a massive shoal of pilchards moving together in one direction, and one had to wonder just how they were finding sufficient room to do their swimming. But somehow they were. And they were all moving in the right direction. Suddenly, all the water was clear of swimmers, a few hundred metres out. The crowd had become quiet, then a great commotion broke out and a young Japanese fellow rolled up, half an hour after everyone had left! Undaunted, he entered the water and with a cheer from the crowd, he was on his way.
The swimmers were thinning out as the faster ones took over and after a couple of laps around the crowd, I decided to make my way to the spot where I would see Ed come to his bike. I was lucky I got myself a front seat, and about forty minutes later, there was Our Man by his bike, adjusting his helmet and hitching his gear into place. He saw me and smiled – the board I was waving above my head was telling him to go for his life, which he certainly did. I stayed in this spot for another ten minutes and was joined by the team. We had more tea and coffee, then we were off to move the vehicle to its next vantage point, where we would see Ed coming in several hours later.
We were lucky and found the perfect spot just fifteen metres from the corner which he would turn into at the end of his run. We also had another plan, for Joshua to take the other bike which Ed had brought along, to ride out and cheer Ed when he was doing his run, riding alongside him for a while, just to maybe buck him up for the last few kilometres.
We made ourselves comfortable in our new found spot, and even went back to our accommodation and borrowed five of the garden chairs, and what with the cushions and the huge blanket we laid out, it was all just ‘home from home’. At about 10 am we made out way to a café and had the most delicious egg and bacon rolls with hot coffee (I had tea). I think we all felt a little guilty knowing that Ed was out on the road pedalling his heart out, and knew he would be for some hours to come.
Joshua, who had taken a fair bit of film of Ed prior to him going into the water in the dark, and again when he came out heading for his bike, was now planning to get film of him coming in. He had crossed over the road which Ed would have to traverse before passing us in the other direction. He would also be able to warn us of Ed’s approach, so that we could welcome him and spur him on for his last couple of kilometres. Our boards were emblazoned with such things as ‘KICK BUTT ED!’, ‘WE LOVE YOU ED!’, and ‘ED BUTLER’S A WINNER!’ There were five of us and we had one each, these were just three, the others I forget.
There were two other friends of Ed’s who had joined us earlier, one was Sean, the other I forget, they were with us the whole of the Triathlon, and in fact, we mete the day before when Ed had gone to Forster for his official registration. They were great fellows, and so very intellectual, both at University and I think, both takin Doctorates. Like I say, they were with us for the whole thing, cheering, shouting and whistling at the very sight of Ed. Come to think of it, they cheered others too, they were great blokes.
They were on the other side of the road awaiting the arrival of Ed, and prepared to give us the message so that we could get our signs ready and Sue could be ready with her MASTER BLASTER TAPE. When it did happen, we knew that we had a few minutes to spare before Ed got to the end of the road and started his return back on our side. We got all five of the chairs we had borrowed from the ‘Albana’ and stood them alongside our Toraga, ready to stand on to get the best view of Ed as he came past and for Josh to get the best pictures. Next month I will be 75 years old; I have a balance problem and find it hard to stand in one spot without wanting to fall over, but found on this occasion, I had the perfect support with the rear view mirror, which I placed firmly between the cheeks of my buttocks. Thereafter, I had no problem for the next five minute whilst perched there, awaiting OUR ED.
We were all pleasantly surprised to see just how fresh Ed looked, and he perked up even more with Sue’s tape. I believe it was really Ed’s tape, and Ed’s idea, and he responded to it in the expected manner. About two minutes of that tape would have given me a nervous breakdown, but fortunately, Ed was here and gone in but a few seconds, and the tape came to a merciful silence.
We then quickly moved to our next vantage point, a spot where the runners were passing just fifty yards away, and we didn’t have to move our vehicle. It was just a short time later that Ed passed us for the last time; he was looking a bit tired but we thought he looked better than most. We all gave him our usual whistles, shrieks and good will messages, not forgetting to show our artistic work on the signs we held above our heads. Ed raised both of his arms high in the air, gave us a big smile, and once again, he was gone.
We were wondering now just how Ed was feeling, as we were almost exhausted ourselves. It seemed all we had been doing was idling around, waiting for Our Man to come and go.
The next plan we made was for The End. Josh was going to look Ed up about ten kilometres out from his return with our spare bike. Towards the end, I would be in the corridor just a couple of hundred metres from the finish line, and at that time, Josh would be at the very end to cheer him cross the line. I found myself a spot and gradually worked myself right up to the barrier, where there was a young lady standing next to me. She seemed to be waiting for no-one in particular, but with every competitor who passed, she would reach her long body over, bending at the waist, and strike this great piece of tin sheeting which formed the barrier. On two occasions, when I wasn’t prepared for her action, the tin sheeting cut across my midriff, almost destroying the Family Jewels.
I kept listening to the announcer calling out the incoming finishers and noticed he missed one or two, which made me keep my eyes peeled all the more for young Ed. At this late stage, I would hate to the miss the lad! I spotted him maybe a hundred meters away, and I held up my board and the colourful streamer the girls had given me to wave. It seemed that was all our announcer needed, and it all came out in booming mellifluous tones – “And here comes EDWIN BUTLER FROM THE US OF A! This is Ed’s first try! You’ve made it, Ed! You are AN IRON MAN! You made it in 11 hours and thirty seven minutes!” The crowd cheered and whistled, and Ed looked straight at me and the streamer I was waving and the board I was waving saying ‘KICK BUTT ED!’ and he smiled. It made me feel good because I thought we had all helped to bring him in, and make him an IRON MAN. I felt good that Ed had done it. HE had done it, and he hadn’t let any of us down.
I didn’t see Ed until the following morning. I believe he had been in the hands of a very good Chiropractor to straighten him out a bit, after which he committed to spending some time with the other successful IRON MEN and have a little drink of champers to celebrate same. When I did see him at breakfast the next day, we learned about the VOMITING and DIARRHOEA, which is apparently not an unusual occurrence with body stress at these times – but Ed smiled the whole time he was telling us. I said “Well, Ed, what about next year and getting your time down a bit?” He said “Welllllll, errrrrrr … We’ll think about that!”
He was leaving for the United States a few days later and I phoned to wish him Bon Voyage, for which he thanked me. He thanked me also for being in The Team, and asked WOULD I BE IN THE TEAM NEXT YEAR?
TOM GUTHRIE
(Those are my upper case and bold type. Dad signed this ‘Tom Guthrie’ in lower case)
NOTE: 24th January 2022
This wonderful story has spent 26 years in my filing cabinet, darling Dad. It was my privilege to type this out for you today and I will post this to my website. This was such a wonderful trip down Memory Lane, a reminder of the profoundly deep and loving relationships I have had with my friends in my life, and with my beautiful son. And with you – with a deep longing for me to hug you and hear you voice again. I loved your writing, your humour, your pride, your attention to detail, your clear delight in being there with our team, your energy – you were 75! – and your palpable excitement about this whole event. You were such an amazing sportsman yourself as a young man, and I know Ed gave you a vicarious experience of being an Iron Man yourself. You were ALWAYS my Iron Man, and I was always so proud of you my darling Dad. I love you still, always have, always will.)
Sandra Groom - Your Very Proud Daughter
