As promised, this is the second post-Hawaii 70.3 race report. It'll be somewhat different than a normal race report though as I won't talk about much racing. And, it'll likely be short. Why post at all then, you're probably asking yourself. Well, I thought about mixing this in with the main race report, but I didn't want to soften the value of what I wanted to write...at least in my own eyes.
If you've followed me and/or know me personally, you know the triathlon thing is relatively new to me. Hawaii was only my 4th race and my 1st race was last summer. After that first race and then what was the last triathlon for me in 2010, I could feel the addiction to this sport. It's the competition in what is a lonely event. Pushing myself further than I ever thought I could go. Doing things that I never thought I could do. Growing beyond explanation in so many ways. Those are the things that would keep me coming back for more...at least that's what I thought at the end of last year.
This year has been different though. Well, the same but different. I still crave all those things I mentioned before...I don't anticipate that changing. But there's something different for me now. As my interest continues to climb for the world of triathlon, I read more about other athletes and listen to everyone's experiences. Not strictly to better myself in my next event, but because I am truly interested in what fellow athletes have experienced. I've become friends with other athletes...both virtually and personally. We communicate online or in person, checking on the other's training and race schedules. Wishing the best of luck in whatever event is next on the list. Sometimes, commiserating over difficult training weeks.
There's still more though. And this, I learned in Hawaii. The minute we got on the airplane and I saw other athletes obviously going to Kona for the same reason I was. I instantly felt like I had others on my side. Of course my family was with me and I can always count on them, but this was a feeling of camaraderie with strangers. The feelings grew as we made our way from the airport to the hotel. And every day, as the race approached, it got better and better. Perfect strangers were instantly no longer strangers. Race strategies were discussed, the training to get there was compared and contrasted, families met and talked about what they had gone through...and gained. The vibe around the area and the hotel was bursting. I found myself constantly looking at everyone's wrist to see if they had the wristband signifying their participation in the event. It was like an invitation to openly talk to a stranger, or at the very least a smile and nod, both with a mutual understanding of...everything it seemed. I was beaming! I've never been in a situation like this...it was amazing.
Then there were those who I got to meet after knowing them only virtually prior to the race. I got to meet a fellow Daily Miler, Anita S. the day before the race. We had only shared short messages back and forth prior to the race. We were able to meet briefly and talk about the race. She hardly knew me, yet invited our family to a pre-race dinner (which unfortunately we couldn't go to). I missed meeting another fellow DMer, Jason, but I hope someday we can race together again and meet in person. There are so many other DMers like David and Karen who always provide so much encouragement.
Of course, I mentioned Michael in the first post. He and I share the same coach and we had tons of friendly jabbing and trash talk before the race. When it came down to it though, it wasn't just the competition between Michael and I, it was the advice and help he gave me to make my race better. The encouragement he gave me before the swim and along the run every time he saw me. It was that even though he won, and I owed him the beer, he was waiting for me at the finish line with a beer for me. I hope Michael and I will race together again soon (Oceanside 2012, Michael?) and it'll be a double or nothing bet.
I guess my point is this - the majority of the people I've met in this sport are amazingly generous, friendly and fun people. From the pros down to the slowest of age groupers and everyone in between. And I can't wait to meet so many more people that up to know, I've only talked to through electronic means. I know I will and I'm pretty sure I won't be disappointed. It's this mutual understanding, caring, encouragement and competition that also keeps me addicted to this sport. I really feel fortunate to be able to be a part of this community. I only hope I can give back half of what the sport and its participants have given to me.
As I was thinking of writing this blog, I realized I should break it into two distinct parts. I think the reasons why will be obvious once you read them both and hopefully I can keep it all clear. For this post, will mostly focus on the Honu 70.3 race day itself and not much pre or post race activities. Since the event was several days ago, I thought it most important to get this portion posted first. Forgive me for my late post (not that unusual really) but we're still on a family vacation in Hawaii, so I have spent very little time on my computer.
Race Morning!
Surprisingly, I got a pretty good night's sleep the day of the race (that's two races in a row)! Certainly traveling to a time zone 4 hours behind home helps. Waking up at 4 a.m. race day is like waking up at 8 a.m. at home. I had prepared all the daily nutrition the night before so I had to do as little thinking as possible in the morning. We stopped by a local smoothie shop the night before and got a morning smoothie to go. I started with that, some coffee and water. I headed to the bus to get shuttled to the race start which was about 7 miles up the road at Hapuna Beach State Park. It was a gorgeous morning with little wind and no clouds that I could see (it was still 4:30 in the morning). And oddly enough, I still wasn't really too nervous.
Panorama of Hapuna Beach State Park - Swim Start
I started my routine getting my T1 area set up. The bike was there overnight, so there really wasn't too much to do that morning. I walked down to the body marking area and got some butterflies while looking at the ocean. The previous day's forecast for 3 to 5 foot swells had not come to fruition (luckily) but it still seemed a little daunting to me. I went back up to T1 and met up with teammate Michael Hutto. He was a great resource and friend on my side this race. We chatted for a bit and he gave me some pointers on my T1 setup to save some time. Then we decided it was time to head back to the beach and prepare.
Soon, Michael wanted to go warm up so I let him go and went to look for my family (wifey, son, mom and her friend Tom) before the start. I actually found wifey and son pretty quickly. It was great to see them before the race and they eased my nerves a little. I talked briefly with them and decided I should go warm up as well. After a quick dip, I said goodbye to the family and went to go look for Michael again. I spotted him on the beach near the start corral pretty quick and we slowly started working our way out into the water.
Like many races, you can start on the beach, in shallow water or treading water. My initial intent was to start from the treading depth. Michael, who is a stronger swimmer than I am, of course was of the same thought. Our coach's intention for the swim was for me to drag off of Michael and have him pull me through the course. His sighting of the buoys is infinitely better than mine and after my wayward swimming in Tempe, we thought this would be a great idea.
As we were treading out to the start, I realized Michael also wanted to be in the front. I was a little less easy with this due to my swimming abilities but wanted to stick with the plan and not interfere with Michael's swim. I knew we were up close when Chris Lieto (professional) was about 20 feet away from us. We were going to be right in the mix of everything and I was excited.
I'm in front here, closer to the nearest buoy. Pros are in white caps, I'm in blue.
All of the sudden, with no warning (that's the way they do it) 'BAM!' The cannon goes off and we're racing! I was about 1/3 unprepared at the time of the start, thinking it would be another minute or so. Either way, I stuck to the plan and was able to follow Michael for about...2 or 3 seconds. Then, he was gone in a sea of 3600 arms, 1800 swim caps and black swim skins thrashing though the water. Hmmm...plan didn't work so well. I wasn't about to let it damper my swim though. I was ready for this. If you want to see the video someone else took of the start, look here.
Mayhem at the start!
I quickly settled into a groove and felt good in the water. The occasional punch to the head, kick in the face or tug at my feet didn't even seem to bother me. I aimed wide for the first buoy which was a big turn and sure to be crowded. We were even warned about this at the pre-race meeting. The video below shows what turn one in the 2010 swim looked like.
I made the first turn and saw this year's scuba divers and cameras. Up to that point, it was hard for me to judge the depth of the water. Once I saw how far down they were, I was surprised how deep it was. The water was amazingly clear. I didn't let the thought distract me though...I still had a job to do. I continued the swim, working on my sighting an drafting when I could. I was much more successful in staying closer to the buoys this time than I was in Arizona. In addition, I was feeling strong in the water.
I finally came around the last buoy and turned toward the shore, swimming as long as I could as the depth shallowed. I jumped out and started to run to the showers to wash off the saltwater. I was curious what my time in the swim was since I had left GPS watch strap in my run transition bag and couldn't use it during the swim. Didn't matter at this point, I just had to concentrate on what was to come. I ran up the hill to the bike and had a calm, but fairly quick transition. I was on my bike now and I was excited...this was my event.
Right after getting on the bike, it was a short but decent grind uphill to get to the Queen K highway for a quick 6 mile trip south to the Fairmont Orchid exit, only to turn around and head to Hawi. Right away, I could tell my legs were good. I was passing people and seemingly putting out little effort. Around mile 8, I passed Michael, which boosted my confidence, knowing he's a strong cyclist. The winds were favorable for about the first 20 miles. As we started our grind up the long hill to Hawi though, the winds slowly became headwinds. My pace, along with everyone else's, dropped with the combination of the hill and wind. I still pushed ahead though, trying to take it a little easy yet trying to take advantage being on what I feel is my best of the 3 sports. I figured I could get some decent recovery on the downhill sections back to T2.
As expected, after the turnaround at Hawi, I was flying down the hill. The plan was working...or so I thought. After the long descent, I got back into the rollers along the ocean. Somehow, I had forgotten how many rollers there were. I took advantage on the downhill sections and tried to take it easy on the uphills to conserve energy. I could feel my legs though and knew they were getting tired. The last mile was pretty much a recovery mile as we turned into the Fairmont Orchid hotel (where we stayed and the location of T2 and the finish). There was a no passing zone for the last mile so there was no need to push.
I got into T2 and handed off my bike. This was the first race I've done where someone took my bike from the dismount point and I just had to worry about getting ready to run. I grabbed my transition bag and put on my shoes and hydration belt and started the run.
Running out of T2
I started the run and quickly determined that the rest of the race, I was going to suffer. I expected that, but it was going to be worse than I thought. As soon as I got off my bike, I could feel how hot it really was. As I started to run, my heart was feeling that too. My heart rate was spiking higher than I wanted it to that early in the run, so I slowed down to try to get it back to my planned range. Unfortunately, that didn't seem to work, so I waked for a short time until it slowed down. As it turned out, the half-marathon for me that day would be full of occasional walking. I'm not sure what all of the reasons were for me feeling so bad but I know several things had a factor. One - in hindsight, I realize I spent too much energy on the bike and was paying for that decision. I should've taken passing Michael at mile 8 more seriously and slowed down...he's done these before and had the strategy I needed. Two - the heat! I haven't run in heat like that since last summer, and that was without humidity. Even my race in Tempe didn't feel nearly as hot as this one. It was brutal.
Regardless, Michael caught up to me before mile 2 and I think he was surprised until he saw I was suffering. He encouraged me to keep running with him and I did for a short time, but I just couldn't keep his pace. I had to let him go to run his race and didn't want to slow him down...he obviously had a lot more in him than I had. The course had several 180 degree turns though, so it wasn't the last time I saw Michael. He kept encouraging me every time I saw him and it was nice to have someone there to help keep me going.
The run was a long, hot, hilly, lonely and painful one. Triathlon is an individual sport and by definition, somewhat lonely. This day was worse though and I think it was just that I was suffering mentally. Somehow, I continued along, anxiously awaiting each aid station for ice and sponges. As I approached the halfway point, already forgetting about any goal finish time, I slowly started to feel a little better. I wasn't great, but I was able to run for longer stretches. At mile 8, I did something I've never done before in a race...started drinking Coke at the aid stations. It tasted surprisingly good and so I continued to drink it at each aid station (you have to or the sugar crash will all but stop you in your tracks).
I finally got out of this race's version of the Ironman World Championship's Energy Lab, which is a long straight grind though hot lava rock and asphalt, and knew the end was approaching. The last mile through the golf course and into the hotel was better for me. I was motivated hearing the crowds cheering and knowing, I was almost done. I crossed the finish line, hands in the air and happy to be done. I'd accomplished a goal I set for myself late last summer and I was unexplainably happy, regardless of my time.
Finally...the end!
I saw the family cheering me on and could finally get a smile back on my face. At the end of the chute, Michael was waiting for me with a beer to celebrate (I still owe him one for the win though). We were all able to enjoy the finish, in the shade of course, and I could start to recuperate.
Michael and I - Done!
The boy and I!
Thanks for the cheers and support!
In the end, I was happy with my race this day. No, I didn't get the finish time I'd hoped for, but life doesn't always work that way. What I did get was the finish, camaraderie and to complete a goal I've worked so hard for. The support I've had from my family has been crucial to this and I'm so appreciative of their support. Michael's support and encouragement was crucial too. I don't know what my result would be if he wasn't constantly cheering me on during the run. Of course, my coaches got me here and I'm not sure I could've prepared myself well enough without their help.
Oh, and Hawaii...I loved this race (even though it's claimed to be one of the hardest 70.3 events in the series) and I couldn't imagine a more beautiful place to race. You beat me a little bit on race day, Hawaii, but I'll be back for revenge. Not next year, but I'll be back.
