Aloha!

Wednesday, October 18th, 6:40 PM.

After eight hours and several thousand miles, we arrived in Kona, with ourselves and our luggage intact. The bike-separation stress ended almost immediately, as my bike case was first into the baggage claim area.

Two seats in front of me on the LAX to Kona flight was 84-year old triathlon legend Bill Bell. We ended up on the Avis shuttle together after the flight, and got talking tri. He was not racing anymore due to health issues, but has raced Kona 19 times, and raced 32 Ironmans total. He was on the Big Island to volunteer, and I bet that even at his ripe old age, he will wish he was racing on Saturday.

So far the only stress we have had, is the toaster in our condo didn't work, so off to K-Mart to splurge ten bucks for a new one. We took the upper roads to avoid the cars, cyclists and runners congested closer to downtown on Alii Drive. This whole Kona experience is sure easier the second time around!

We were both wide-awake at 3:30 AM Thursday, which is 7:30 back home. This is a perfect sleep pattern for race day, as body marking (that's where they write you race numbers all over your limbs) opens at 4:45 AM. I grabbed a flashlight and headed out for an early, easy run in the pitch-dark, thinking how insane this was. I heard a noise approaching from the opposite shoulder of the road, and there was another runner!

I had a pretty good sampling of Kona conditions later that morning. A high surf warning has been in effect since the quake, so the morning swim featured big, fat swells that made sighting the marker buoys a bit difficult. (The marker buoys are orange, and about ten feet in diameter.) Swells this big are actually a lot of fun to swim in. If your stomach can handle the motion, you can really feel yourself going up-and-over every wave. It's important to keep your wits and maintain good form in these conditions, as you will simply stay on top of the swells. You also need to pick a sighting target farther in the distance than the next buoy. The Aussies are superb at big-wave swimming, as they usually swim in similar conditions back home.

I was out on the Queen K at mid-morning for a 40km ride, and the coastal wind was still asserting itself. Every gust was actually a little cooling. It was early enough that I had a glorious tailwind returning, but on race day we likely will have no such luxury: by the time we are returning from Hawi, the wind will have reversed, and will be blowing hot down the mountains.

On the return trip along the Kuakini road, I saw the only earthquake evidence other than the big swells, a basketball-sized rock on the shoulder. Otherwise you would never know about last Sunday's shaker.

The heat and humidity feel like a warm hug. There's something nearly magic about walking out the door at 5:00 AM wearing only shorts, to go watch the surf pound the lava rocks. On Saturday, I will need to embrace that magic when the heat gets cranked in the Energy Lab. Those who can, will have the day of their lives.