Race Day

Slept surprisingly well Friday night and didn't wake up until the alarm at 4:30.  We had plenty of time as transition didn't officially close.

Breakfast of two bananas and a wrap for Kim and a bowl of polenta porridge for me.

Chips on, swimmers on, clothes over the top, bike computer and odds and ends all in the correct bag.  Five minutes walk to transition, then another 10 minutes walk to the condo and back to transition for Kim to get her water bottles.  While I was waiting for her I realised it had been a mistake to leave the phone (camera).  Bugger.

Lined up for numbering (we weren't allowed to put our own race transfers on and were given strict instructions to leave sunscreen till it was done).  The polite and interested helpfulness just continued with the volunteers.  Even after putting 200 race number on each they were all very chatty wanting to know where you were from, how many races you had done ("That's fantastic.  Are you nervous?") and wishing you a great day - all with smiles and enthusiasm.  And they weren't all from the US.  There were plenty of Australians and English helping out - all bitten by the friendly enthusiasm bug.

Bikes checked in

Then it was out to the bike.  When I changed the flat in transition the day before I was told that even if, in the morning, we had tyre problems after we had gone swimming there would be mechanics there to fix our tyres while we swam.  And we saw it race morning.  Three or four mechanics fixing tyres that had burst with too much pressure.  No problem getting a pump, checked water bottles, computer on the bike, pumped up our tyres then out for a bit of quiet time on a patch of grass out the front of the hotel.  We decided the toilet queue was a good idea while we waited and half way along the gun went for the pro men.  Finally had our turn and by then time was getting a bit tight.  So we did hugs and good lucks and I joined the big crowd of men moving slowly down to the water to get in the narrow entrance to the water.  Kim started 15 minutes after me so it was men only in the crowd.

Lined up before the start, looking from the pier across to the town

Swam gently out to the starting line.  Which end?  It seemed just as crowded along its entire length.  Usually when there is wave starts I get to start with the old men and because of that I get near the front as I tend to be one of the stronger swimmers.  Here, among all ages, and with the best in the world I had decided to sit near the back to try and seed myself with swimmers of my speed.

The start

Big mistake.  I don't think I had a free swimming stroke for 500 metres.  There were slow people in front who I kept running in to, fast people behind swimming over the top of me and when that wasn't happening we were squeezed in so tight that you couldn't take a stroke without hitting someone's arm.  Eventually we reached some sort of agreement where we travelled as a pack but not without almost constant contact.  In the middle of all this I congratulated myself on not buying a speed suit as there was nowhere I could speed - I was stuck in the middle of a group of swimmers and any attempt to go faster or slower just meant more collisions.  I also had the thought that in a long day out like this a minute or two in the swim was not going to matter and that I should try and conserve my energy.

So we swam along like this until about 100 metres from the turn around when it started all over.  Everyone converged onto the buoy and the boat and for the 200 metres of the turn it was just like the start.  After the turn I made an effort to make my way to the seaward edge of the group and for the last k it felt like I was getting into a bit of a rhythm.

(Bike later.  Need breakfast.  And coffee.)

We were mobbed by helpers as we got to our feet at the end of the swim, another volunteer called our number to another volunteer who found our bag and handed it to us.  And into the change room.  Room is an exaggeration.  I found a couple of square feet to change in then ran about 200 metres to get to my bike.  Rolled the bike out of transition with the horrible feeling that I had forgotten something then onto the road.  The first loop took us up the hill south of town then back through town and up onto the Queen K Highway where the real ride began.

It was good to get into the business part of the ride.  A constant stream of cyclists were taking advantage of the good wind blowing us out of town.  I was trying to keep weight on but not overdo it like I did in Port.  Yet there was a constant stream of cyclist coming by and I was passing a few too.  Somehow the draft busters decided, in the long train of cyclists, that I was the one draughting and I was given a blue card, my first ever.  It meant a five minute penalty.  Seemed more than a little unjust and also meant that I didn't have one up on Kim any more as she has a draughting penalty from a couple of years ago that I like to bring up.

The line of bikes on the Queen K.

So it was a five minute break at the penalty tent.  You pull up and they give you a running stop watch, record your number and name, put a horrible red stroke through you helmet number and show great sympathy and politeness for you predicament and count down the seconds then let you go.

Back on the road and back to passing cyclists I'd already passed and still getting passed by faster ones.  Must be pretty poor swimmers is all I can say.  I'm now scared of another penalty so every time someone passes I ease off which is costing me more time but I want to finish the race.

The serious winds don't really hit until we are on the climb to Hawi and they are nothing like the winds we've struck when out there training.  A few drops of rain on the way up the hill turn into heavy rain by Hawi and two bikes down in the town made me very careful at the turnaround.  After the fast (probably averaged over 50) descent for the first 10ks and the road drying out the rolling hills and 20 ks back to Kawaihae were tolerable and I was starting to think I would have a pretty sharp time on the bike.

The crowd on the road had spread out by then, except for an occasional woman and a very slow-swimming man passing but the novelty of the ride had started to wear off and I'd had enough.  The last 50 ks was a pain.  We were riding into a strengthening head wind and since the rain the heat had become oppressive.  I knew I was doing it tougher than others because I was no longer passing many people and the number of people passing me had increased.  Then you think of the poor buggers who are doing it by hand.  There were some hard cases in the handicapped race who were pedalling their bikes along at a fairly brisk rate.  On the hill down into Kawaihae on the way out I was sitting on about 60 and this guy on a hand cycle who I had just passed came screaming by.  Low and aerodynamic, those things are quick down hill.

You feel like you are doing it tough then you see someone on one of these

So I wasn't doing it that tough at all.

And then I was starting to wonder how I was going to run.  Not a marathon but run at all.  I thought of Port and how I just had to start and keep going but I think I was a little more worn down than at Port.  Finally rolled through town and into transition and when I stepped off the bike my legs were able to jog straight away - a good sign.  Grabbed my gear and took my time changing - I had all afternoon and the run would be there when I was ready.

The first part of the run goes south along Alii Drive then returns to the middle of town.  There are people for the whole 8 ks on the side of the road.  Cheering, hosing you down, yelling encouragement and generally helping pass the time.  My usual deal with myself is to not allow walking but the way I was feeling I renegotiated an arrangement to allow walking through the aid stations.  My argument to clinch the deal was that I needed to keep hydrated and it is difficult to get much fluid down while running.

The crowd along Alii Drive

I'd eaten well but needed to keep the water up.  There were aid stations every mile which meant I could walk for about 50 metres every mile.  Sounded good.  Getting to the turnaround point an Alii was taking forever and I didn't feel at all like running   I kept thinking back to Port where I just kept going and after a while the ks would tick by.  And they did.  Every time I stopped at an aid station I wondered how I was going to get going again but I did.  Bodies are amazing.

I had decided that when I made it back into town I would walk up the steep part of Pallani too.  Didn't need much negotiating I just had to remember the last hill in Port where I had run and while I was running thinking if I walked fast I could go the same speed.  I passed a couple of people pretending to run so it seemed to be working.

At the top of Pallani I had about 26 ks to go.  I told myself it was doable.  That wasn't even a seriously long training run.  The next goal was the turnoff to the "energy lab" in about 12 ks.  Out along the gently undulating hot black surface of the Queen K.  Despite me being hours after the first runners the dozens of people at the aid stations were all very positive.  Some had DJs and loud music, some of them were dancing.  Two half cups of water at the start of the aid station and two at the end.  Every second one meant a gel or a half cup of coke, a half cup of energy drink and a half cup of red bull in addition to the water.  I tried a banana at one but the warm mushy brown thing in the skin nearly made me vomit.  The sun was less intense by now, hidden behind some haze so I took my hat off to help keep my head cool.  Didn't feel any different.

Runners on the Queen K

When I finally got to the energy lab turnoff I thought maybe I was a chance to keep the run going.  It was a bit more than half way so I was a chance to finish.  The road down to the coast and the k along the coast was far longer than I had remembered from training which wasn't encouraging.

The hill back up from the energy lab.

Finally climbed back out of the energy lab road and back onto the highway.  My soul destroying runs training out here meant I was well prepared for the 10 ks back to town.  It was a bit early to start thinking about the finish but I started thinking about the finish anyway.  Didn't want to eat or drink just wanted to lie down.

Passed where I'd stashed my training water bottles.  Passed my training run turn around points, walking through aid stations then running again.  By the time I got to the bottom of the last hill, about three ks out,  I was feeling pretty positive about finishing and had actually started to run rather than shuffle; through the aid station half way up the hill without stopping and through the noisy crowd of supporters who were all telling you how good you were and that you were virtually home.  And I was.

Two ks.  Down Pallani trying to keep my knees from buckling turn left up Kuakini, right onto Holualoa then 400 metres to the finish in the middle of town.  I wasn't exactly striding out but was feeling pretty good.

The finishing line - maybe a little more crowded than when I came across but there were a lot of people cheering.

A couple of catchers support you after the finish, walk you to the recovery area check that you are ok then go back to catch someone else.  I lay down.  For about 20 minutes, may even have had a short sleep.

The people beside me asked me was I all right.  Yes.

They had great post race food and even I could eat some of it.  Pizza (not for me) but good ice cream, all sort of cold drinks but the best dish was pulled roast pork and chips.  Nice.

About an hour later Kim came through and went through the same process as I had.  Rest, eat, drink, eat then start thinking about how well she had gone.

Finishers

It wasn't my best race unfortunately.  All three legs were slower than expected and I finished well down in my age group.  But I'd done the Hawaiian Ironman and I had the photo to prove it.

The photo