The Road to Kona...Race Day

The Hawi turn-around was a wonderful sight. I've got peanut butter sandwiches waiting for me. I pull up a chair and munch on my sandwich. I don't care about the time. I've earned a rest. It only took a few minutes before I realized I do care about the time. I've got to. I've been out here on the bike a long time and I've got a 10.5-hour cut off at the next transition to make.

Back on the bike I have a wonderful tailwind. Glad it's there, but not really enjoying it. My back and shoulder are all knotted up and my arm is weak. At least I can shift again. Good thing. I know those crosswinds are ahead. I start to analyze the situation. While heading north, the gusts were coming from the right. If the wheels got blown out from under me, my right arm is prepared to help cushion the blow to the pavement. I'm heading south now. The gusts will come from my left. I don't have a left arm to help. To make matters worse, it is now raining. Gusting winds from the left with slippery roads. Mother Nature really wants to test me today. Got no battle plan, so I just wing it. Few oncoming bikes, so I can't tell when the gusts are coming. I pass a couple ambulances attending bikers that let their concentration lapse for a split second. That's all it takes.

Luckily the rain didn't last long. On the bright side, it did cool things down a little. With the wind consuming most of my thoughts, I didn't think much about the heat. That didn't stop it from taking its toll. This quiet enemy is now catching up to me. As I entered Kona and turned onto Ali'i Drive, my energy is almost nonexistent. I stopped for a short rest at the last couple of aid stations and I was really struggling to get to the transition area. Only one small hill left to climb before rolling downhill into T2. I know I'll make it now, but boy I'm tired. I crest the hill and stop for a rest. I have less than a mile to go and I'm resting. I actually get mad at myself for stopping. No. Pissed would be a better word. That's enough to push me back onto my bike for the last descent into T2.

I made it. Only a 26 mile marathon to go. I slowly start to change into my running clothes as Allan and Norm come into the tent. They say I look like shit. (Some support crew, huh?) Well, I don't think they put it quite like that, but I'm sure that's what they were thinking. After a leisurely massage to get some of the tension out of my shoulders and neck, I'm out on the course after a blistering 16-minute transition time.