Another Kona in the log.
Reader’s Digest Version: swim was
better than expected (yes, I think the speedsuit actually helps!), bike slower
than hoped for – partially due to needing to pee more than I’ve ever peed in
the first half of an IM (3 times on the way out), but mostly due to the
tactical decision of going easy with the tailwinds expecting massive headwinds
the entire way home from Hawi, but weren’t as bad as expected coming home – and
a run that, aside from some nasty cramps and a couple of port-o-pottie stops
went better than I thought it was while I was running, but was slower than I’d
hoped for going into the race. But I suppose when you hit mile 4 and are
thinking how nice it would be to trip and break your leg so you won’t have to
continue, I did okay. 9:39:12 official time (1:03:50 swim, 5:05:18 bike,
and 3:21:11 run with some conservative transitions just over 4’ each). It
was good conditions in Hawaii – more than 250 people broke 9:30. Memories
of the winds of 2004 might have cost me this time.
Non-Reader’s Digest Version (yes, I
know I’m long-winded):
The week leading up to the race was
much busier than normal for me. I met 3 of the original 15 Ironman
participants, got to break one of the original IM trophies, even. Happily
they said that happened all the time. Got a couple of rides, including a windy ride home from Hapuna together in the days leading
up to the race.
As usual, it was hot and windy, but
winds were a bit more favorable than usual – which lead to an error in my
tactical decisions on the bike. More on that later. Some thin
clouds came in across the Ali’I portion of the run – welcome news for me, as I
had 3 thoughts keeping me nervous coming into the race: 1) the joys of a mass
swim start; 2) the heat – heat has definitely affected me more this year with
the MS, fatigue is higher, tingling abounds, the feeling that someone is
incessantly rubbing sandpaper on my wrists, tightness down the back and into
the quads whenever my head tilts below neutral, general irritability of mood;
and 3) the thoughts of another day like the Pac Crest ½-Iron race from late
June – where food poisoning 3 days before the race dropped 6 pounds from me
overnight, and I fought through glycogen depletion starting by mile 6 on the
run to finish my slowest ½-iron race ever. I never – ever – want to
repeat that mental digging again, and the thought of maybe needing to go there
again really did put a chink in my confidence. But my training had been
good, I was prepared for the winds, there was nothing more I could do except
execute the plan.
BANG! Swim start found me most
of the way out to the left, right on the start line (I actually bumped into my
old CU Triathlon team coach on a paddle board out there!), and while there were
a few bumps and kicks (including one that made me quite happy I had Aquasphere
goggles with a large gasket and not my older swim goggles that fit pretty close
around the eyeball). But with the exception of the turns (at mile 1.1 and
1.2), I could hold good feet, and maintain my stroke. My speedsuit seemed
to help nicely, as I came out over a minute ahead of my fastest predicted
time. Swim = 1:03:50 (82nd AG, 535nd overall).
Easy T1 with nowhere to sit, but
lots of sunscreen put on.
(Bike caveat – I found, upon getting
my bike from TriBike Transport, that my seat had somehow angled down 3deg. In getting it back, I misjudged the angle,
and while I thought it was about 1deg down, it turned out to be 1.5deg up. I wonder if this altered my power
production. Regardless, it certainly
provided me with the worst chaffing in … undesirable areas … that I’ve ever
experienced. Ever. Fortunately, I was able to pigeon-hole this
during the race, and just accept that it was uncomfortable, and the shower
post-race would be unbearable. Soldier
on…)
Heading out on the bike, 2 things
occurred to me: 1) ~65 minutes into IMH is a really popular time to be heading
out on your bike, and 2) tailwinds moved us along heading north towards
Hawi. At this point, I made my errant tactical decision of the day and
dropped my effort with the expectation of having nasty winds coming home from
Hawi (based primarily on the misery of riding here in 2004’s terrible
winds). By the turn around in Hawi, I had dropped 119 places. I
told myself all along that letting folks go was okay – I’d see them later in
the headwinds that would have overall bike times 20’ slower than expected. And
if not, though, I was on pace for a PR bike time, which also convinced me that
it was a win-win decision to have eased up. Nutritionally, I’ve never
done better on the bike. I was spot on plan throughout the ride.
Unexpectedly, I had peed 3 times before the climb to Hawi, and again on the way
down. I’ve never peed more than twice on the bike in an IM, and it
occurred to me that I was well-hydrated, it was also an annoyance to seriously
coast down the hills to do my business. The winds did pick up some, and
people did start to come back to me. Across the last 37 miles (the return
portion of the Queen K), I found myself passing 114 folk. Unfortunately,
the winds were far less than expected, and I only passed 120 folks total.
(losing 12 places on the bike in an IM is something that has also never
happened to me - fortunately I didn’t find that out until after the
race.) While I didn’t know how poor a choice I had made regarding pacing
it had been, I was aware it had been a mistake. But still – I’m heading
out of T2 looking like sub 9:30 is still possible if I can nail the 3:10
marathon I think I’m capable of producing. Bike 5:05:18 (and now 109th
AG, 547th overall)
Again – thin clouds over Ali’I (the
first 10 miles of the run) helping out. All week I had noticed that I
LOVED the shade, and did NOT like the direct sunlight. It always amazes
me how different my symptoms are between the two, even on warmer days.
Direct sunlight is not my friend. Thus heading down Ali’I, I’m
feeling pretty good. Except that I cannot, no matter how hard I try, get
my form right. I remain sway-backed, no
matter how hard I try to get my shoulders up over my hips and in front of my
landing feet. Maybe it’s something to do
with the bike seat? Well, not much I can
do – just keep on trying to get it back, and keep on keepin’ on.
People are now steadily coming back
to me – in all, I would pass almost 190 people en route to the finish – and
that helps, certainly. By mile 3 I decided it was cooler with no hat
on. Suit unzipped as far as it could go, ice dumped down it every aid
station. I took to dunking my own sponges each aid station – sinking my
arms as far to the bottom of the ice water and sponges as possible (which worked
until there was no more ice on the Queen K). But already by mile 4,
I really felt … hot. Sharp reminders not to tilt my head down came
whenever I forgot – nothing like the feeling of a jolt of electricity is
zipping down your back, reaching to the tips of your fingers and wrapping
around your hips to your thighs to remind you to keep your chin up. I’m
beginning to weigh the benefits of finishing versus breaking my leg so as to
have a decent excuse to stop here. Reminder of the time of day – near 1:30.
AKA “The Witching Hour”. Nap time – mental state breaks down, I get,
shall we say, irritable. Bad enough on a normal day, really not good when
2/3rds of the way through an Ironman.
I take a quick break with the family
at mile 7. My parents once again made the journey to support me, as did
my amazing wife and son. Thinking of all the sacrifices they have made so
that I could be here kept me going at this point. Upon resuming, I
consciously thing, “OK, pity party’s over – no more DNF talk.” And it
worked. By the time I get up to the Queen K, I’m mentally feeling better,
but now getting some nasty cramps in the abdomen. Yet again – something
I’ve never really had in IM. Will these lessons never cease? I stop
at a port-o-pottie to see if I can’t just get rid of whatever’s causing it, but
someone’s inside. Unfortunately, as I’m stopped, it was just easier to
wait, and wait I did. Even the guy at the aid station on the bull-horn
noted that “the guy on the Jon’s better hurry up”. Finally he comes out,
I go in, and nothing comes out. Off I go again having simply wasted a few
minutes. But at least, I note, my form seems to be coming back.
Continuing to focus on the moment, I
note that this year, they don’t allow spectators past mile 15 or so. It
gets quiet. Breathing, foot falls, and that’s it. Honestly, the
folks who donated to my cause kept me moving through there. They gave –
now it was my turn. But I’m beginning to consider that I never want to do
this race again. My wrists hurt, my hip flexors are cramping, my
pace is slow, and do not look down (zap!). Head into the energy
lab, make the turn-around, and finally, whatever’s in my guy wants to come
out. Another minute in the Jon and the world is SO much better. I
look at my watch – 8:35 race time, and I’ve got 8 miles to go. 7:15’s seem
so possible to get just under 9:30. Then reality sets in, and my times
are slower. I still think I might be done with this race. Maybe
even IM. I lose track a bit with a few miles to go, just knowing
I’ll break 10hrs here. That, regardless of conditions, was high on my
list of goals for this race. But then I note with about 1.5mi to go that
sub 9:40 is still possible if I hurry. Funny how you can sometimes find
that extra bit, even then. It wasn’t there in New Zealand – I was moving
for all I was worth the entire run. But here, there was that little bit
extra that Kona (and a big net downhill final 1.1 miles) can get out of
you. I’m slapping hands with all the kids I can find along Ali’i.
It’s a terrific feeling (always is) to run down Ali’i. Every
time I do it, it’s more cherished than the last time. And maybe this is
my swan song. Probably. Run time 3:21:11.
9:39:12 and 358th
overall, 49th AG (of 282 finishers).
Content, if not satisfied.
Out at midnight at the finishing chute,
watching my wife dance with Chrissy Wellington. A special place to be, no
doubt. Midnight on Ali’I the 2nd Saturday of October is
magic. And probably it’s my last time.
It’s now over a week later, and my amazing
wife has firmly planted the seed of letting me race an early IM next
year. I’m looking at IM Lanzarote, as it is on my Ironman Bucket Lest. I
ran the other day and felt good. I rode
today and felt terrific. I hope I can
qualify for Kona again. I’d love to race there again.
Amazing what a week does to the
memory of agony.
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