Sunday, September 10-5:10 a.m. (2 hours to go)

“They knew they were making history, and it was the greatest adventure of their lives.“ That statement is from the opening of the Ken Burns documentary, “The Civil War,” and it was the f

first thing that popped into my head after I opened my eyes. No shabbat observant Jew had ever competed at the Ironman World Championships and after 15 years of training and hoping for the chance, now…it was “race day.”

I sat in bed, staring out the window at the sea. There was nothing left to do but race…

Sunday, September 10-5:30 a.m. (1 hour, 40 minutes to go)

The race day routine has been the same since the first time I raced Ironman in 2010. Feet on the floor, swim shorts and tee shirt on, contact lenses in. I made sure to take a picture of the first

lens. It’s my one “weird” race day ritual that I cannot explain. I don’t know why I started taking pictures of myself putting in my lenses on race day. Maybe it is because as time recedes I want to hold on to the memory, to anchor myself to my past. Like the song Time Stand Still says, “I let my past go too fast.” Maybe it’s just my OCD. I should have eaten a light breakfast of oatmeal or a lox and cream cheese sandwich, but all I  could stomach was a few sips of coffee. I held the paper cup in my hand, enjoying the aroma of  the k cup coffee. This would be the last time I would have a moment to myself for the next 18 hours and I wanted to make sure I had everything I needed in the bag at my feet. Into the bag  went my goggles, swim cap, water bottles and gels. I walked out of my room into an empty hotel  hallway with my wife. Usually, I’m greeted by other athletes on their way to the elevators. No one ever speaks; we just nod at each other. Today, the eerie silence greeted us. Janet knows that on raceday I don’t want to talk. I’m trying to focus on the task ahead and the little things that must happen before I enter the water. We took the elevator to the lobby and walked out into a busy sidewalk. The whole town was alive and washed in light. Flood lights and street lamps had turned night into day. The sidewalks were jammed with athletes, spectators and race support personnel.

In 15 years of triathlon, I have never seen anything like this before. It was as if the whole world had come to Nice to watch. My wife walked me as far as non-competitors could go. There was a chain link fence bisecting the road, separating the competitors from the supportive family members who got up early on race day to see their loved ones off.

Sunday, September 10, 6:05 a.m. (65 minutes to go)

I put my gear bag down and Janet handed me the backpack with my tallis and tefillin for prayers.

I had taken Rabbi Binyamin Krohn’s class, so I knew what to look for in the sky, but the beach faces south. I could not see if the sun was rising in the east yet.

I knew by my watch that I was on the edge of acceptable start times for my morning prayers, but it was now or not at all. The next time I would not be in motion again was going to be after sundown. I stood there, under a palm tree, by a chain link fence, praying. As soon as I had unwrapped, folded and put away everything, I saw Jan Frodeno!

(The Champ is here)

I grabbed my phone and caught up to him as he was about to cross over into the “athlete only” zone.

I wasn’t sure if I could walk back out once I had crossed over, so I had to move quickly.

“Jan! Can I get a picture with you?”

“Now is not the time for photos. Now is the time to make memories!”

(What did you do?)

I did what I always do, “Audentes Fortuna Iuvat,”“Fortune favors the bold.”

(You took the picture?)

I took the picture. I was so happy that even if I failed at this ironman triathlon, I would at least have thepicture with the world champion.

(How did the picture come out?)

BLURRY!

(What happened?)

The floodlight above overloaded the phone’s camera sensors and the picture was ruined.

What else was going to go wrong this morning?

David Roher is a USAT certified triathlon and marathon coach. He is a multi-Ironman finisher and veteran special education teacher. He is on Instagram @David Roher140.6. He can be reached at [email protected].