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 You know, I didn't realise it at the time, but last weekend I was running down Ali'i Drive in second place in a major triathlon. In hindsight, that would have to qualify as "kind of neat". Here's how I got there. On Monday I arrived in Kona Now the long version... Places (and people) of natural beauty have always attracted me. Kona, Alaska, Indonesia, Thailand, the Rockies -- they have a magnetic and spiritual appeal. I find myself simultaneously stimulated and relaxed. In the past, these sensations were brought by more earthly pleasures. While Kona was a "C" grade race, I will be honest with you and admit that I really wanted to do well. One of the toughest things about training for IM is that your long sessions inevitably leave you tired for most of your races. Still, I had been smart and had everyone's expectations low going into this race -- even my own thoughts were suitably conservative. I wanted to finish 5th. Why? I wanted a low race number next year and you had to go Top 5 to be seeded. As usual, I didn't sleep much on Saturday night and was glad when the alarm rang at 3AM. Two and a half mugs of coffee had me flying as I sat in our living room listening to heavy metal music and preparing mentally for the day. I didn't really know what to expect, but Hawaiian conditions suit me, I like it warm. Those of you familiar with the Ironman course, will know that the swim typically exits up the boat ramp on the pier. For the Half, they had us exit on the King Kam beach. I needed to check out the exit so I decided to swim from the beach, around the pier (a nice warm up for those of you racing in October). A mixture of freestyle and fly had me in position and ready to go. After my Wildflower swim, I decided that it was best to take things out a little faster. While I am not a swimmer, I am a triathlete and should be able to do a little better than drafting the mountain bikers in the race. Something inside me had said to leave my watch and HRM at home, so when the horn sounded, I went straight to work. The start was a clean one as about 800 of us powered on out. Different from racing down under, the field seemed to stay with me and I was pleasantly surprised when I found myself in a fairly decent position with lots of drafting opportunities. I played pac-man and bridged my way forward from one set of feet to the next. Surging and recovering, I picked off different swimmers. It was a lot of fun. As we neared the turnaround, I took a few deep breaths and kicked my speed right up. I was taking a gamble that the lead pack would slow and I would be able to bridge up to their feet. It is a gamble that I have lost more times than I have won. Just before I popped, I caught them. It was just like a bike race, another ten seconds and I might have exploded. The choppy turbulence of their draft felt like heaven to my tired arms. I knew I was having a good swim because the people around me looked like swimmers. It can't really explain it, but I always seem to be able to pick out when I am swimming with the fish-like triathletes. It might have something to do with their kick (fairly hard) or the look of the older guys (a little heavy, but perfect stroke mechanics). Anyhow, I gave myself a mental pat on the back and settled in for the ride back to the beach. I had no idea what time I exited the water, but the racks were full and I took that as a good omen. A quick transition saw me heading up the road feeling just fine. The bike course is basically flat with a few rises. Perfect for settling the body down and I relaxed on my aerobars. The best part about the terrain was that I could take the early parts of the ride easy and not lose too much ground to the front of the field. Before the race, I didn't really have much of a plan for the bike. I figured that I would see what developed. I knew that a few guys would take it out pretty hard, somebody always does when it is a qualifier. Sure enough, a few people shot past me but they slowed once they were clear (except for Chad Hawker, he just disappeared over the horizon!). I found myself just off the back of about seven age group cyclists. The pace was comfortable and my cadence relaxed. I decided that I would cruise out to the turnaround and see how far back I was. I knew that there were 31 miles back into town after we turned and figured that would be enough to bridge into the Top 10 for the start of the run. I knew that my run would be about five minutes faster than most everyone else and decided to save myself. At the turnaround, I was surprised to find that everyone looked a bit tired and I was already in 10th. Sensing an opportunity, I surged and left the pack behind. I was in fifth spot and about nine minutes down on Chad. With no watch, it was tough to tell how long time was taking, the mile markers were counting up towards town, the sun was warm on my back and the deep blue sea was off to my right. It was a perfect Hawaiian day. The kind that LVL must have had when he set the IMH record. Light winds, reasonable temperatures and energy flowing through my body. Everything felt very easy and I had a huge ball of emotion building in me. The entire scene was so perfect that I wanted to hug the whole world. It was really strange. I had a deep, deep feeling of thanks and an ear to ear grin. It almost felt unfair that one guy could be having this much fun and my heart was overflowing. I thanked Pele and continued my cruise back to town. By the time I hit Ali'i, I was in third place with fourth a little ways back on me. I worked hard through town and dropped him. Arriving in T2, I was two minutes down on second place, who I assumed was Brent Imonen. With Chad and Brent in front of me, I figured I would have to hold off the age group challengers from running me down. A twenty second transition (yes, I am proud of that one), saw me heading towards the Pit feeling pretty solid. My legs were good, my stomach was full of fluids and I had managed to eat a little more than planned on the bike. We had cloud covering the sun and it was a good thing because my transition speed resulted in leaving my hat behind! Running up Ali'i a guy told me that second place was mine because the guy in front of me couldn't run. Well, I know that Brent ran a 1:19 last year so I was wondering if he blew up. It took me about a mile and a half to reel him in and see that "he" wasn't Brent at all. Hmmmm, where is that guy? Brent is an excellent swimmer so I guess he pulled out somewhere along the line. By the time I was running up out of the Pit, my chase pack was hammering down the hill after me. A few of them looked pretty fresh but most had that roughed up look that I know so well. But there was one guy... and he was flying. That didn't really bother me. I figured that I would run my own race and then see if I could stay with him if he arrived. Nobody gives you a manual for how to run when you are at the front of the race. Chad taught me a lot. Watching him, the goal seemed to be to gap everyone quickly and then look totally relaxed whenever you see them on the road. I didn't feel like taking any chances, so I settled in for what felt like a steady pace (I like to think of it as comfortably uncomfortable). I had nothing to gauge my speed. Chad was over the horizon and there wasn't anyone else to catch. A strange position to find one's self. It would have been nice to enjoy that solo run to the finish line but the Island had other plans for me. Around Mile 8, Mr. Imonen made a guest appearance in my life, surging by at what must have been 5:15 pace. I revved it up and stayed with him. Thank God it was a surge and he soon backed off to what felt like just under 6-min per mile pace. My joy was short lived, however, as surge followed surge, followed surge, followed surge. It was my own dosage of running hell, delivered by a lycra-clad demon. I stayed with Brent for two highly uncomfortable miles before he started to ever so slowly pull away. A master, he stretched the gap to 100 meters before easing off. It was as if he had eyes in the back of his head. Those two miles taught me a lot. I wish my legs had surge protectors because the last four miles of the race saw my energy levels drain, my feet start to hurt and my mental game come under serious pressure. While my pace remained solid, it felt like I was barely hanging on and I started to think backwards rather than forwards. I wasn't the only one feeling that bad and word started to filter back to me that Chad had bonked and was walking. I dug deep, thought of Karen Smyers and did my best to put together a counterattack. My "attack" lasted a full minute until my world of pain closed back in around me. While it hurt a lot (and I mean a lot), it really wasn't so bad. I knew that it would all be over in 15-20 minutes and I was pretty pleased that I was going to go Top 5. So I chugged along with some of my pals saying hi to me on my way past. I didn't even have the energy to reply in my mind and I have no idea who was talking to me. Still, their encouragement kept me rolling and I found myself turning the corner to the finish line. The clock read 4:12 and I smiled -- a new PR and some lessons on race strategy. It was a very good day. Standing around alone in the finish area, it struck me that racing at the front of the pack is really no different than being anywhere else. I was still the same stiff at the finish as I was at the start! My pals seemed pretty impressed with my result and it was nice to see the sparkle in their eyes. Still, I will be leaving Kona with two memories -- swimming with the dolphins in Kailua Bay and that feeling of pure bliss I had in the lava fields. For me, that's what racing in Hawaii is all about. Third overall in the Keauhou Kona Triathlon. Swim 25:36; Bike 2:21:50; Run 1:23:53 -- Overall 4:12. With improved transitions to 1:19 (total). | to enlarge.
Two "strong as hell" cups of coffee, a little heavy metal, and I'm ready to rock.
It's all about the crunch, baby!
biking, biking, biking....
Down into the pit...
...and back up
Feels good to be finished
A new PR over the distance
The Lads |
