A Couch Person wonders at the Extreme People

On opening Sunday of the NFL season, more than 2,100 Extreme People, most with 4 percent to 12 percent body fat, got up at the crack of dawn to swim 1.2 miles in Lake Las Vegas, cycle 56 miles through forlorn moonscapes in the Lake Mead National Recreation Area and run 13.1 miles, in three loops, around upscale neighborhoods with tile roofs bordering Henderson Pavilion.

This was the Ironman World Championship 70.3 (miles), and to all but the Extreme People - and perhaps St. Louis Rams fans -- this seemed a demented way to spend opening Sunday of the NFL season.

There was a lot of panting, leg cramps, foot blisters and the nonstop whir of helicopter rotors. A chopper hovered the course as if something was on fire or somebody had escaped from prison.

A Couch Person - never to be confused with the Extreme People - might surmise these Ironman things probably were the result of some bawdy high jinks like in those "Hangover" movies. Only instead of Bradley Cooper, Ed Helms and that Zach Galifianakis guy, who is now everywhere, it was the superheroes Iron Man, Aquaman (or Sub-Mariner) and The Flash who got all liquored up at Caesars Palace before Mighty Thor was to wed Natalie Portman or some Scandinavian girl with long legs - and that Iron Man must have paid for the limo and the cigars and the strippers, because they named the event for him.

In reality, triathlon originated in the 1920s, in France, but the first swimming/cycling/running marathon wasn't held until 1974, at Mission Bay near San Diego, where there also are a lot of Extreme People, and also a lot of dudes who surf and ride skateboards. There were 46 participants. This was probably because in 1974, the St. Louis Rams were the Los Angeles Rams, and they had James Harris at quarterback and Lawrence McCutcheon at running back, and they won the NFC West with a 10-4 record.

(The Chargers were 5-9 in 1974 and finished last in the AFC West, so that probably didn't affect the sparse triathlon turnout.)

I arrived at Henderson Pavilion just as the Extreme People, who were wearing aerodynamic helmets that made them look like FTD florists, were putting down their bicycles and putting on their running shoes. The panting was minimal when the leaders came in, but those helicopter rotors were giving me a headache. Sanctuary was sought in the pavilion, where they were showing the half-marathon on the Ironman channel.

It was there I encountered Beat Gambaro, 68, of Zurich, who was attempting to read a crime thriller by Jussi Adler-Olsen, the Danish author. The pleasant Swiss said he didn't speak English, but he spoke it well enough to get across that it was difficult to read a crime thriller with those helicopter rotors beating the air and the volume on the Ironman channel turned up to "11." This caused the broadcast to echo like a Ricola cough drop commercial, which, being from Switzerland, Beat Gambaro could relate to.

He said this is how he spends his time when his wife, Irene, one of the Extreme People, swims and cycles and runs.

(He also said people should stop giving Mitt Romney such a hard time for stashing money in a Swiss bank account, because there are standing jokes where he comes from about people who stash money in American banks.)

Before long, there were only a couple of miles left, and Sebastian Kienle of Germany seemed to be opening a gap on Craig Alexander of Australia, the defending champion and world-record holder, as they ran the landscaped curbs on Paseo Verde Parkway. This was when Angie Green, who seems to be to the Ironman channel what Erin Andrews is to whatever channel she's now on, said this was the part of the Ironman where "snot is everywhere."

This was my cue to go to the finish line, and to ask one of the volunteers for a Kleenex.

I saw Kienle run under the digital clock with the yellow numbers while holding the German flag. Then he kissed his blond German girlfriend, who told me her name is Christine, and then somebody put a gold medal around his neck. I am happy to report I didn't detect any nasal discharge, though one of the volunteers handed the 28-year-old Kienle a bottle of water and he poured it over his head and much of it dripped off his nose.

So perhaps this was what Angie Green meant.

Then they played that catchy "It started with a whisper ..." song by Neon Trees, and for 2:59 you couldn't hear the helicopter rotors. In a little while, Leanda Cave of Great Britain would come across the line to win the women's race.

The Age Groupers still had miles to go.

On the way to the car, I spotted one of the Extreme People walking down Paseo Verde Parkway. He was wearing No. 59 on his bib. This was Greg Bennett of Boulder, Colo., who had just finished 15th. He appeared to be walking toward Green Valley Ranch or walking home.

Las Vegas Review-Journal sports columnist Ron Kantowski can be reached at rkantowski@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0352. Follow him on Twitter: @ronkantowski.