Friends, I did it !!!
On Sunday, August 26th at 11:56 PM, I crossed the Ironman Canada finish line with barely 4 minutes left before the official cut-off time of 17 hours. I was extremely happy but delirious, numb, in extreme stomach pain, and didn't remember much of the finish until what I saw later on videotape what I thought was the wildest crowd I've seen at any finish line ever. Below are the details, if you must know:

4 AM: As planned, I woke up at 4 AM, showered, went to breakfast with the team, huddled, hugged, then wished each other good luck as we left the hotel for the triathlon transition area.

5:30 AM: Unlike any other triathlon races I've participated before, I was calm, confident, and excited in spite of the knowledge that this was my biggest and most difficult athletic challenge ever. I was ready to accept whatever challenge the day brought me. It was great to be co-mingling among so many athletes from around the world, hearing different languages being spoken, seeing how everyone seemed so calm and quiet - none of that tough bragging talk that some races have. It seemed that everyone there respected each other's presence, knowing that we were all in this together, and it was going to be a very long day. I got my body marked, setup my transition area, made my last bathroom visit, and walked away from the crowd to say a silent prayer.

6:30 AM: I found some of my teammates and positioned ourselves on the beach. With approximately 1,800 triathletes participating, it was a record number Ironman participation in the world. The spectators were at the sidelines and towards the back of the beach. The weather was great and when the Canadian national anthem was sang, it suddenly hit me: I am about to start my first Ironman triathlon! OH MY GOD!

7 AM: The sun came out gradually from behind the hills, the cannon boomed, and off we go! 1,800 people crashing into the water, splashing everywhere. It was wild! I was pumping with adrenalin as I swam comfortably during the first mile of the 2.4-mile distance, but got beat up pretty much during the turnaround where everyone else bottlenecked. I finished the swim in 1 hour and 29 minutes, as planned.

9 AM: As soon as I got out of the transition area to start the 112-mile bike race, friends, team supporters, and loved ones were lining up the street screaming "go team" to cheer us on. That gave me a lot of energy and encouragement. I was very careful to follow my race plan about fuel and hydration by eating 3 Clif Shot gels every hour, hydrating with Gatorade every 15 minutes, and taking 1 salt tablet every hour. I felt great on the bike during the first 40 miles which were relatively flat, going through the beautiful British Columbia countryside. I thought of everyone back at home sending me good vibes and good luck for this race and felt so lucky to have so much support.

12:30 PM: We were told previously that there were two major hills on the course: Richter Pass and Yellow Lake. I was saving my legs for the first climb up Richter Pass around mile 70 of the 112-mile bike ride. Sure enough, that was grueling, but not as grueling as the hills we trained in the Bay Area cycling up from Highway 9, Old La Honda, Kings Mountain, or Page Mill to Skyline, etc. After having done those bike rides and participated in the Wildflower Half, Kona Half, Vineman Half, the Ironman Canada bike ride by itself was really a piece of cake except for its distance and the fact that I am now doing all 3 events in one day. Although the bike is my weakest segment, I was confident that I estimated completing the bike course at least 1 hour earlier than planned.

2:30 PM: Unfortunately, someone previously mis-informed the team that the second hill, Yellow Lake, was the last hill at mile 95 and that it was downhill from there back to the transition area. Wrong! There were at least 3 more hills after that, but it was my fault for not going out there to ride the course in a car before the race to see what I was about to go through. I also made the mistake of stopping to eat the Clif Shot gels because I was getting so grossly sick from eating too much of it. So I bonked and hardly had enough energy as I struggled to overcome those last three hills.

I was mad and desperate as I watched the clock at 4:30 PM, 1 hour before the cut-off time. If I didn't make it to the run by5:30 PM, I would be disqualified out of the race. I reached the top of the last hill exhausted and discouraged until I saw this huge cardboard sign planted firmly on the sidewalk that said: "Go Louie, we love you!" It could not have come at a more appropriate time even though there must have been at least 20 of those planted throughout the course. I knew then at that particular moment that my family, friends, and all the TNT teams from the North Bay, South Bay, Peninsula, Marina/Marin, and East Bay were rooting for me and the Ironteam. With that thought, I gathered enough energy to overcome that last hill and made it to the transition area at 5:05 PM, 25 minutes before the cut-off time!

5:20 PM: I started the 26.2 mile run while other people were already finishing the race. This used to bother me in the past but not this time. I reminded myself that my goal was simply to finish within the allotted 17 hours. Seven friends of mine who were spectating in the crowd decided to join me in the run to keep me company. They were Carol, Rain, Nathan, Kris, Jane, Izumi, and Kyle. Later on, these guardian angels played a key role.

6 PM: Surprisingly, I was still feeling relatively good considering I had just swam 2.4 miles and biked 112 miles. Normally, I would already be in pain by the time I started the run. This gave me enough courage knowing that I have approximately 6 hours and 30 minutes to complete a marathon, which I have never done before (the longest training runs I had were 16 mile runs).

7 PM: I tried to stick to my plan: Ran as much as I could, but walked, stopped, and stretched only for a brief period at the aid stations every mile. But I was doing so well that I decided to skip some of the aid stations and pushed myself running hard. Big mistake.

8 PM: Now it was getting dark and I started to feel the blisters on my toes. I tried to ignore the pain.

9:30 PM: It was completely dark and getting cold. Because this was my first race ever that involved being in the dark, I had not thought about bringing my prescription glasses and jacket with me. I wore prescription sunglasses during the day, which I obviously couldn't wear during night-time. Thus, I couldn't see much that night as there were no light posts. Except for the beautiful glow of the moon against the lake next to the road, I started to become miserable as I developed a stomach ache. To make matters worse, I now had blisters on 9 toes. (Lesson learned: don't wash your running shoes before a race.) I tried to ignore the pain.

10 PM: By this time, my stomach pain and blisters were unbearable that I could only walk. I kept rushing to every porta-potty that I could find at every mile in the attempt to vomit as my stomach was excruciatingly painful. Instead, I would sit in there and do nothing but rest as it felt so good to sit down until Nathan would start knocking on the door.

Nathan had a little toy with him. It was a portable GPS (global positioning system that some cars now have). It told us how many miles we have ran, how many miles left, and at what speed we should be running in order to reach the finish line. He would read the GPS stats to me every 5 minutes and while I was very thankful that he had this device, it got very annoying after a while. Nathan would knock hard on the porta-potty door and yell: "Louie, get out of there because you have to finish this Ironman!" I wanted to scream back and say "Leave me alone and go away with your damn GPS!" But I knew Nathan was right. And the thought of him toppling that whole porta-potty over with me inside it and all that stuff scared me to death.

11 PM: According to Nathan's GPS, if I had to continue stopping at every porta-potty on the course, I had to pick up the running pace to 7 or 8-minute miles just so I can reach the finish line. Because I simply don't run that fast, I had to skip all the aid stations and porta potties from there on. I estimated that I could still get to the finish line before midnight. Nathan, Rain, Carol, and Izumi are guardian angels. They tried everything they could to get me to that finish line. Izumi taught me a psychological exercise to "erase" the pain by "putting portions of the pain in a box and put the box away philosophy" mental game and it worked for a bit. Carol lifted her blouse and flashed me, but that didn't help because I didn't have my glasses on and it was dark! Nathan tried to tease me about Christina Aguilera or Britney Spears and that wasn't even funny. Kris tried to tell me that I was a great athlete with a nice ass view from the back, but I knew she was lying. But here is what worked:

11:40 PM: Only 2 miles left and 20 minutes before the race is officially over. Rain told me that she could feel Andree's and Adrianne's presence with us at that moment. They were two honoree-friends of mine who have died of Leukemia and Lymphoma. They touched me deeply and I still feel the pain of their deaths. I also remembered the pain that I went through while I was in chemotherapy, and worse, the uncertainty of my mortality. Then I remembered the reason why I am doing this Ironman - to be a good example of hope to those who are still fighting their battles against cancer: Stella Digneo, Jonathan White, all Team-in-Training honorees, and all other cancer patients out there. I dedicated this race to the memories of Robert Christie (lung cancer), Leon Pula (brain cancer), Andree Santos (Leukemia), Adrienne Feir (Hodgkin's Disease), and all others who have died of cancer. The Ironman is truly an event that makes you realize what you are made of inside. I was out there for 17 hours and I couldn't help but think what my purpose and place is in this world. When I was first diagnosed with cancer, I didn't see anything positive coming out of it at all. Now, it is clear to me why God put me on Earth, and that is to make a positive difference in other people's lives. For that, I MUST FINISH THIS RACE!

11:50 PM: Only 1 mile left and 10 minutes to spare to reach that finish line. I saw the bright lights of the finish line from a distance. Carol had a walky-talky short wave radio to communicate with coach Wayne. Every mile of the entire 26.2 miles, she notified Wayne about how I was doing on the run. Wayne would relay the message to the rest of the team, most of who have already finished the race, then someone in my team notified the race announcer of my whereabouts and my estimated time of arrival, then the announcer relayed the information to the waiting crowd over the loudspeaker, and the crowd would go wild. I could hear them from a mile away in the middle of the night!

The night before the race, I was interviewed by the local newspaper - The Penticton Herald. They published my story and picture on the front cover and was widely distributed on the morning of the race. Between that publicity plus the numerous Team-in-Training and "Go Louie" signs all throughout the 140.6 miles of the course, I was told by a radio announcer that the crowd became familiar with the Ironteam and my story, showed up at midnight, and are waiting for me to cross the finish line. That was a lot of pressure, not to mention my friends who were watching the race on IronmanLive.Com. No question about it: I had to finish this race!

THE FINISH LINE

11:56 PM: So when the race announcer relayed to the crowd that I was finally approaching, I could hear the spectators going wild chanting "Louie, Louie, Louie" then I entered the chute towards the finish line. As I broke the finish line ribbon, everything happened so fast like a dream: I barely remember the words being announced: "Louie Bonpua, you are an Ironman!" It was wild and confusing as cameras flashed, TV crews trying to capture the moment, crowds congratulating me, the loud blaring of the music, someone putting my finisher's medal and a ley of flowers around my neck. I remember how I cried like a baby, overwhelmed by the emotion of completion. Then the pain in my stomach and blisters returned, and I was assisted to the medical tent.

The Awards Banquet

The Awards Banquet was held at the convention center the following evening, attended by approximately 5,000 people from around the world. I usually only show up at these awards banquet for the food and to see other people receive prestigious awards for winning the Ironman.

Before they called the top 20 Ironman winners, they first presented the Iron Spirit Award which goes to someone who embodies the spirit of Ironman Canada. To my surprise, they called my name. With a speech to the audience about what this race meant to me, I accepted the award glass trophy, plus a new Cervello bike frame as a prize.

My goal in achieving an Ironman was not to win anything, but instead to become a good example of hope for other cancer patients that even in adversity, you can still live life fully and pursue your dreams. That night, I took time to remember my fellow cancer patients back at home who are still fighting their battles. I did this race for them and for the memory of those who have died of cancer. Even though they weren't physically there with me, I carried them in my heart. THANK YOU!

I am somewhat hesitant to use the title of being an Ironman because I got so much support that got me to that finish line. Then I realized the old saying "No man is an island," and that we all really need each other in order to survive. I can't tell you all enough how much I appreciate all the support, prayers, and good vibes you have given me and the Ironteam. When the going got tough out there, I thought about all of you who were watching the race live and at home over the internet. Thank you all so much for the phone calls, visits, and e-mails of support. And to those who donated to my fundraising campaign supporting the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, thank you so very much.

WHAT'S NEXT?

Now that Ironman training and events are over, I am focusing my efforts to convince the medical officials to accept me in the new clinical trials for Chronic Myelogenous Leukemia patients who have failed Gleevec. In the meantime, I continue to be on maintenance chemotherapy which I call "band-aid fixes."

With regard to triathlons, I am scheduled to participate in the Treasure Island Olympic-distance triathlon in San Francisco on November 13th, and Kona Half Ironman on May 27th, 2002. And on January 18th or 19th 2002, I will be carrying the Olympic Torch as it passes the Bay Area on its way to the Salt Lake City Winter Olympic Games.

More information about these events, and pictures of Ironman Canada, on my website: www.ShrimpLouie.Com

Once, again, THANK YOU all so much for your love and support.
Your friend, Louie