"Kona is different. What you do at the other races, doesn't translate here." Peter Reid, Ironman World Champion in 1998, 2000, and 2003 (Above right).
Following is a reprint of my race report from Kona in 2004:
Aloha to all,
To sum up the race, I had a disappointing swim, a conservative bike, and a decent marathon. My finish time was 11:15:00. I was 596th overall, and 81st among 239 in the 40-44 age group. First-timers at Kona should expect to finish at least an hour later than their qualifying time, and I was no exception. (59 minutes, 32 seconds to be exact!) The race is hard due to the course, the weather and the competition. After all, it’s the Ironman World Championships, it SHOULD be hard! To put into perspective the level of competition, all top five men in the 55-59 age group finished ahead of me. The winner of that age group finished under 10 hours, an impressive time for even a 30-year old.
During training sessions on the Queen Ka’ahumanu highway and Alii Drive on the week leading up to the race, I felt like it was hallowed ground, much like the Montreal Forum or Yankee Stadium. Some of the most dramatic events in Ironman racing happened here, probably the most memorable being the crawl across the finish line by Julie Moss in 1982. Or the Iron War in 1989, when six-time champ Dave Scott and Mark Allen raced shoulder to shoulder for eight hours, then Mark pulled away with two miles to go to win his first of six titles. Fellow Canadians have also made their mark on the race, winning eight world championships, including Peter Reid and Lori Bowden’s wins last year.
The Swim - 2.4 miles - 1:20:42
The swim takes place at 7:00 AM sharp in the warm waters of Kona harbor. 1700 athletes funnel through the timing mats and swim out to the start line, treading water while awaiting the starting cannon. The course is a long rectangle shape, starting on one side of Kailua Pier and finishing on the other. The biggest challenge of the swim is the current. The swells can make sighting difficult and the current causes you to expend extra energy trying to hold a straight line.
I found the deep-water start allowed plenty of room at the beginning of the swim. Not like standing shoulder-to-shoulder and heel-to-toe on the beach in Coeur d'Alene or Penticton, then being churned in a human washing machine for the first 1000m. Aside from a few athletes moving by aggressively, there was very little hard contact with other swimmers. The water is crystal-clear so the visibility was amazing, I could see swimmers for fifty feet all around me. I managed to draft for most of the swim, and felt I was swimming long and strong, but the currents were doing a number on all but the best open-water swimmers.
I exited the water on my way up the pier and saw my swim split: 12 minutes slower than Ironman Canada, and my worst Ironman swim ever. It was an early reminder that Kona is different. Judging by the number of “Oh, shit”s I heard around me, I wasn’t the only frustrated swimmer.
The Bike - 112 miles - 5:58:54
The bike course at Kona consists of a short out-and-back through town, then riders turn onto the Queen K highway for a ride along the northwest coast to Kawaihae. The course turns onto Highway 270 for the long ascent to the turnaround point at Hawi. The course itself is rolling with no particularly tough climbs, but the legendary Ho’omomuku winds present the main challenge. They vengefully change direction during the day, so chances are you will have a headwind or crosswind leaving and returning. This year would be no exception.
Riding through town among thousands of spectators was exhilarating. On the short climb up Palani Drive, they were going crazy, then I realized I was riding beside Ryan Sutter, the guy from The Bachelorette. And here I thought they were cheering my climbing skills! I chatted briefly with him shortly after on the Queen K, as he appeared to be riding a little aggressively for that early on the bike. I advised him to pace himself because he had a long day ahead. He hadn’t done an Ironman before, and didn’t have to qualify due to his celebrity status, so I felt he needed reminding. I later found out he was being coached by 8-time women’s champ Paula Newby Fraser and the Multisport.com crew, and I would bet their advice would have been similar. He went on to finish around 11:38 and looked very fit, (great calves if he would just shave those legs) so credit to him for the solid training.
I met up with my training partner Derek Case early in the bike, we discussed the swim and agreed we were both disappointed. I joked that now the pressure was off me to win my age group, so I could relax a bit. My focus was to not go anaerobic on the bike and conserve energy for the run. By then the winds had picked up, and at one point about 40km out, I was pedalling downhill into it and only going 15km/h. Empty Gatorade bottles were being blown UP the hill. I saw two riders get their bikes blown right from under them, one of them had his front wheel snap in half as he went over the bars. I had my heart rate monitor set to alarm when I was exceeding my target heart rate, but I could barely hear it over the constant din of the wind. On the way up to Hawi, it was exciting to see the leaders in the pro men’s race started going by the other way, shortly followed by the pro women and the really fast age groupers.
After the turnaround point in Hawi, we had a nice long descent with a tailwind for 20 km or so, but the crosswinds returned shortly after. Later, on a stretch of the Queen K just before the airport, I was making good time and headed for a possible 5:45 split. I knew there would be a headwind coming back into town, and at 15 km out, there it was, like a slap in the face. So I geared down and kept the pedal RPMs high to save the legs for the marathon. Imagine riding west from Calgary into chinook winds, then imagine doing it for six hours: That's what the bike leg felt like. I finished 40 minutes slower than at Ironman Canada, however I had paced properly and was able to ride the last 40k strong.
The Run - 26.2 miles - 3:46:09
The marathon course consists of a10-mile rolling out-and-back section through town up Alii Drive, back through downtown Kona and out onto the Queen K to complete the remaining 16.2 miles. The turnaround is in the Natural Energy Lab, a deceiving title as it actually sucks the energy out of you. It’s in a low spot in the lava fields at about mile 18, where most triathletes are having a tough time of it anyway. The heat reflects mercilessly off the lava and ashphalt. Then there is a grinding uphill out of the Lab back to the Queen K. Several miles later, the 25-mile marker on Palani Drive and the turn onto Alii Drive and the finish line are welcome sites.
I headed out onto the run course feeling pretty good at first, running an 8-minute mile pace. However, I had to slow down as the deep fatigue from the bike ride answered back. It normally takes me about 2-3 miles to get the run legs going, but here it took 10. I ran by our condo at mile 2 and thought how good it would feel to get off the course, go to the fridge, crack a cold one and put my feet up. My other training partner, Kim Townsend, caught up to me a couple of miles later and reminded me of what it took to get here.
Oddly enough, I started to feel better after running up the steep hill at Palani Drive to the Queen K. Once there, I got into a good groove, and watched the Pro women’s race unfolding in the opposite direction. My coach, Kevin Cutjar, high-fived me on the way by, however I didn’t connect solidly because I knew at the speed he was running, one of us would dislocate a shoulder. Then I turned off the Queen K into the Natural Energy Lab. Up until then we were favored with cloudy skies, but the sun came out with a vengeance in the Lab. I stopped to use an outhouse just before the turnaround, and the effect of the heat inside it (and possibly its sun-baked contents) made me reel with nausea and dizziness. Back in the fresh air, I doused myself thoroughly at the next aid station to cool down, and started the long, slow climb back to the Queen K. I did the math to figure out if I could crack 11 hours, and realized I would have to suffer very deeply to get it done, at the risk of not finishing at all. Begin Plan B, sub-11:15.
Once back onto the highway, the sun gave way to cloud again. I rejoined Kim and we set off on the home stretch at a comfortable pace. Derek went by on his way to the Energy Lab, and the three of us, who trained together all spring and most of the summer with the common goal of getting here, were briefly reunited. At the 25-mile marker, Kim and I parted ways, as I needed to crank up the pace to hit my goal.
Nothing prepared me for that first trip down Alii Drive. Thousands of spectators lined the street, music was blaring, and bright spotlights blinded me until I was inside the finishing chute. I remembered the advice to enjoy the last 100 meters, so I slowed down and high-fived the crowd, until I saw the finishing clock: 11:14:55, 11:14:56,…then a mad dash to the finish line, to cross the timing mat just as the clock ticked over 11:15:00. I looked back just to be sure, then wilted into the waiting hands of the catchers. A summer-long journey that started with a DNF at Ironman Coeur d’Alene, two comeback races, and an Ironman personal best at Penticton had ended where I wanted to be: the finish line on Alii Drive. I felt relief, satisfaction, elation, and above all, fatigue!
We all have our motivation for getting to the finish line, and people who inspire us to get there. Marc Herremans captured its essence, at the Carbo Load dinner on Thursday night. Marc, an up-and-coming pro triathlete from Belgium, finished 6th overall in Kona in 2001. That winter he was in a tragic cycling accident while training, which left him paralyzed from the chest down. Despite all the challenges of his handicap, he was determined to get to the Ironman finish line again. After a false start in 2002, he finished the 2003 Ironman World Championships, using only his arms. When brought on stage to speak at the dinner, he spoke of his good friend Christopher Reeve, who had passed away just days before. The two met due to their common interests; both were ardent spokesmen for the cause of those confined to wheelchairs. He suggested that we honor those who motivated us, by bringing them to the finish line with us, in our thoughts.
He had very eloquently verbalized my own intentions.
This year, on my way to the finish line, I honored the two most important women in my life: My wife Barb and my mother Joyce. Several years ago Mom was diagnosed with polycythemia, a form of cancer of the blood that in its final stages regresses to become acute leukemia. Mom loved to collect teddy bears, and when she went into hospital briefly a few years ago, Barb sent her a little Ganz teddy bear, dressed as a nurse. They joked that “Nurse Bear” would take care of her and comfort her. Indeed Nurse Bear comforted Mom, and stayed by her side until she passed away in 2002.
On race day, Nurse Bear was with me for the entire race. Hawaii was a significant venue: My parents loved Hawaii; they had a five-week vacation there, shortly before she became too ill to travel. It is significant for Barb and me too, as I would not have made it there without her unwavering support. And Nurse Bear is significant to me as it connected both of them. So Nurse Bear was front and centre as I crossed the finish line, Barb was there waiting for me as always, and Mom had the best seat in the house.
Mahalo for your friendship and support, Myles