You Are Here:

Ironman Louie McGee '19: Perseverance Propelled Him Across the Finish Line

Louie McGee '19
October 19, 2018

Milan Tomaska, Louie McGee '19, and, Steve Roeske at the Ironman Finish Line.
About a year ago, I approached my parents and told them I wanted to do the Ironman Triathlon. I was just 17-years-old, had no experience as an endurance athlete, and am significantly visually impaired. My parents, responsibly, told me “no.” I told them I wanted to do something big to inspire other kids with blindness to find their own adventures and push their boundaries. My parents couldn’t say no to that.

In early spring of 2018, I created a detailed budget and plan to make my Ironman dream come true. The next big step was finding a guide. I needed to find someone who could finish the 140.6 mile race… at my pace. That person also had to be open to six months of training with me, as I don’t have enough vision to train solo. And on top of all that, my guide would have to be willing to travel to Louisville for almost a week for the competition.

Finding a Guide and Beginning the Training

After getting the word out that I was looking for a guide, and interviewing several people, I found Milan Tomaska. Milan is a ten-time Ironman with an awesome family and he lives pretty close to me. We literally ‘hit it off’ on our first run together. In the final mile of that run, I got hit by a car. Nothing more than a stumble and a bruise – but Milan was worried whether this was a good idea.

Through the summer, Milan and I, with a group of triathletes, trained for the swim, bike, and run. I was the youngest – by far – and the only person with no experience. I’m sure everyone thought I was crazy. I heard things like “people don’t usually proceed directly to an Ironman without having first done a marathon, or at least a half Ironman. And, they were probably right, but I was determined. Early on, I struggled with the long runs and long bike rides. But, training through the summer went well, and Milan and the crew were so helpful at motivating me. By the end of the summer, my distances were getting longer, and I was feeling pretty good.

This fall, training started to get more complicated with my senior year at Cretin-Derham Hall, other time commitments, friends, and aches and pains. The long runs now began after long days at school, and the long bike rides started very early on cool Saturday mornings. Milan was right by my side, learning what it was like to guide a blind guy.

One day we were out on a long run with a great group of endurance racers and several warned me of ‘pineapples in the path.’ I assumed they were joking (since pineapples are not native to Minnesota), so I ignored them. I stumbled over a pineapple but stayed up – and we all laughed. As the fall pressed on, I was noticing that our times, distances, and confidence were improving. It was hard to make it all work, but I could see that it was coming together just like I had hoped.

During the first week of October, with race-day fast approaching, my story seemed to catch the eye of the media. Milan and I were getting interview requests locally and nationally. We reminded ourselves that we were doing this to raise awareness and inspire others. You can’t do that without getting the word out. Most of the interviews were fun, but some got in the way of our final training sessions.

Heading to Louisville

On October 11, 2018, my mom, dad, sister Carmella, and I hopped on a plane and headed to Louisville, KY, for the race. We were all nervous and excited. We met Milan and his family, and my friend Steve Roeske and his family, in Kentucky. It was great to be in Louisville as so many people seemed to know our story. Between media interviews, we managed a practice bike ride and then a practice swim in the cold, dirty, fast-flowing Ohio River.

On Saturday night, the day before the race, it hit me. I knew this was going to be hard and I knew so many people were watching. But I didn’t stop to put that all together until I lay down in bed the night before the race. My mind was racing and my nerves were heightened. I had a pretty high fever and couldn’t stop shivering. Add to that – our building’s elevator (we were on the sixth floor) and heat (it was really cold) were not working. The forecast for the race was very cold, windy, and wet. It was a tough night. While I never once considered dropping out, I was concerned what the next day would bring.

"You are an Ironman!"

Race morning, October 14, came quickly after about three hours of sleep. My fever was still there, but a little less than it had been. At 5:30 a.m., my dad and I walked down to meet my partner, Milan, and my friend, Steve, for the start of the race. As we walked in the rain, I started to think about the day. It seemed odd, but my mind wouldn’t let me think about the specifics of the race, as hard as I tried to do so.

At the starting line, I could feel my nerves turn to excitement. Everyone was pulling for Milan and me. A camera crew had been assigned to track us. After a bit of re-routing, we jumped into the Ohio River for the swim portion of the Ironman. The swim was easy, and 17 minutes later, we were changing to hop on the bike.

It was so cold, wet, and windy that about one-third of the participants had dropped out of the race somewhere between arriving in Louisville and the mid-point of the biking portion. And, I don’t blame them – it was awful.

But, I was lucky, because I had a bunch of secret weapons. I was led by two Ironmen – Milan and Steve; I was packing a big bag of Cheetos on the bike; and some guys at one of the stops gave me their McDonald’s. Unorthodox, yes, but it all worked together to help me get through 112 miles while freezing on a bike at speeds between 20 and 30 m.p.h. – on slippery, wet roads. The run couldn’t come fast enough. We took our time in the transition from bike to run, talking to everyone, and warming up a bit.

When we headed out for the 26.2 mile marathon, I felt good considering I had never run more than 21 miles at one time in my life. The run went great until about mile 14. It was then I hit the ‘runners’ fog,’ which for me, meant that I lost all of my vision. Milan was there to keep his steady guidance and Steve followed me on the other side. We managed to run the final 12+ miles with just four useful eyes between the three of us. We crossed the finish line at 12 hours, 58 minutes, and heard the announcement, “Louie McGee, you are an Ironman!” It was the most incredible moment of my life. At the finish line waiting for me, were my mom, dad, Carmella, the Tomaska family, the Roeske family, and so many who were following me (virtually and in-person).

I am so thankful to have had the opportunity and support to make this happen. I’ve heard from many people that my completion of the Ironman has inspired them or their children.

At the finish line, the First Place Winner of the Ironman came over to me and gave me his winner’s bouquet of flowers. He told me I was an inspiration to him. He followed up with a note that read, “Seeing an athlete like you complete an Ironman, not to mention one like Louisville with such brutal conditions, lets me know the reason why I started in this sport in the first place.”