Posted on ironman Texas Facebook page regarding the swim death.
Via Shawn McDonald. Sharing for reach. We lost an Ironman athlete this morning on the swim. This is hard to write.
I’m sharing this because I hope it somehow finds its way back to her family — and that it brings them even a small measure of comfort knowing that people who didn’t know her at all gave everything they had to save her.
My 12-year-old daughter Mila and I woke up at 3 a.m. this morning and drove from Sugar Land to The Woodlands to volunteer on our paddle board for the swim portion of Ironman Texas. We also came to cheer on a close friend competing for the very first time.
I wanted to volunteer for several reasons — but one of the biggest was giving Mila a chance to experience this incredible event from a completely different perspective than watching me compete last year. We launched our board in the dark, waited near the start area, took videos and photos, sang the national anthem, and buzzed with excitement as thousands of athletes began entering the water. It was a beautiful morning.
After the start, we paddled alongside swimmers, offering a hand - or a board — to anyone who needed a quick rest. Then we heard a whistle.
A group of younger volunteers in a kayak on the far side of the field were raising a flag, blowing a whistle, yelling for help. Dozens of athletes were between us and them. I could see swimmers clinging to their kayak. I heard them say she went under. I had Mila hand me the paddle and I started calling out to the athletes around us to stop so I could cross. I made my way over in about 30 seconds. When I got there and asked what happened, they all said the same thing: She went under. Right here. Right below us. The panic and fear on their faces won’t leave me for a long time.
The only athlete I remember seeing was an older gentleman, maybe in his 60s — hanging onto the side of the kayak, goggles removed, with the widest eyes I have ever seen. A thousand-yard stare. He had just watched someone disappear beneath him.
I dove in immediately and began searching. One other young volunteer, possibly a lifeguard, began diving with me. After about a minute underwater, I felt her body with my foot. I surfaced, took what seemed like the deepest breath I have ever taken and went back down. She was gone. I don’t know how to describe what that felt like. I tried again. And again. And again. I just knew I would feel her again and could grab her and pull her up. I lost count of how many times I dove over the next hour (attached photo is of my watch that tracked my movement as I searched).
When boats with sonar arrived and identified a target, I’d dive in that area. It never entered my mind that she had already passed long ago. I just kept searching like I was going to pull her up alive. Looking back, I was probably taking more risks than I should have. But I couldn’t stop.
I was asked to exit the water as dive teams began to arrive. They recovered her body just after 9 a.m.
She had gone into that water chasing something most people only dream of finishing. She trained for it. She showed up for it. She deserved to come out of it.
What breaks my heart most is imagining her family on shore, watching for her to exit the water and mount her bike. Refreshing the app. Waiting for her position to update. It never did. They never saw her come out.
Her name was Mara and she was from Brazil. She was someone’s whole world.
To her family: we did everything we could. I am so deeply, genuinely sorry that it wasn’t enough. She will stay with me.
May she rest in peace. I will be praying for all of you and please do the same for us.