The race; this could be long trying to describe in detail what went on that day. I'll try to break it into palatable parts so it isn't too overwhelming. Also I am writing this Wednesday, a few days past so I hope that my memory is sufficient for the task.
Alright lets get right to it. I have to start with the disclaimer: DNF. That's right, hard to say it but I was only able to finish the first two parts of the race and wasn't allowed to continue. The swim was 2:01:57 and the bike sadly was too long 8:41:49. My total time in the race including T1 was 10:54:43. I was 24:23 over on the bike cutoff. There was still about 6 hours left in the race so I am pretty confident that I would have completed the marathon in that time, but I was late on the bike. Having put that out there, I need to go back to the beginning which was Friday midday.
Friday noon to 2:30 was bike and gear check-in for my number range. The early part of the day was calm with no particular stress and I decided to take my time with the check-in. Left the condo and walked with family and friends the 1.5 or so miles to the transition area. I think we got there around 1:30 and it was crazy busy. Pros had one line and age groupers were right next to them. All the athletes went down the same chute, the bike entry/exit. Both sides were lined 2 and 3 people deep all with cameras going off trying to catch a photo of a notable racer. Of course I am right in the middle of it so it is like you are the focus of attention too. I passed the pro photo shoot backdrop and moved on to the entry arch. It is really impressive, the atmosphere, all the hundreds of volunteers, the massive set up on the pier, and the throng of athletes. I get to the official who assigns me a volunteer to walk me through the process. I have my bike and helmet but did not bring my bike and run bags so the official records my name and number telling me I can come back with those before check in closes later in the afternoon. Right now I start to worry because that means I can't get it all done now and have a 3 mile round trip to make, and come back with my bags. Anyway I rack my bike, deflate the tires, and hang my helmet on the bars. I'm just a row from the pros so it is easy to find my ride in among the other 2000. The bike racks are wood with slots for the rear wheel, each numbered, with plenty of room on either side. Later the next day what seemed like lots of room got tight with all the athletes getting ready side by side. Next the volunteer takes me on a tour of the transition area. We walk to the swim exit, then through the water hoses, to the bike gear rack where all the numbered bags hang in several rows. Then to the changing tent, inside there are many chairs, portable toilets, and fluid stations, and various supplies for the race. We exit the changing tent, walk by the run bags, the volunteer explains that the run transition is the opposite direction of the bike. Part of the transition for both includes running the length of the pier, I am told that is to equalize the transition, I don't understand how. At this point the volunteer takes me to the bike exit chute, says thanks for racing, and sends me off to get the rest of my gear.
Tense? You can imagine at this point I should be upset but I had 2 hours to get the gear and get back so it seemed like just another walk. I located Maureen and Charlotte in a dress shop, and told them I needed the key so I could get in the condo. Bobby has it, so we go down to the beach to get it but he has swum out past the Kamehameha heiau so we wait. He comes in and we discover he doesn't have the key either, we all left without one. Panic starts to spread among the party, I'm trying to keep my head, so I go back telling everyone that when they get the code to call. I'm jogging down Alii Dr. and Maureen is calling the rental agency. They get the entry code and try to call me but I don't answer because I'm still running. Maureen and Charlotte get a taxi, head to the condo, and get there right after I do. We go into the room. I have all the bags laid out already so I just double check before throwing everything in. Back into the taxi, back to the pier, through the line. I have to wait now for an escort, and I wait for a break in the line of racers who have their bike and bags, this is about 15 minutes, and finally get an escort in. I was pretty calm, it was tense for the rest of my group, during all this but finally was relieved to get the check in over considering the confusion. Okay "I'm ready now", I think as we head to get something to eat at Splasher's. Fish tacos and a light beer before heading back to rest up for the morning.
Saturday race morning. I was up at 3:00. Breakfast was oatmeal, yogurt, and coffee. I had a Lara bar later. Left the condo in the dark about 4:15 to walk the 1.5 miles to the start. It is always cool to me as you walk to any event how the athletes, friends and family converge on a few of the direct routes to the start/finish. It has its own special atmosphere. Hard to explain, but as we got closer the intensity seemed to build and fill the air. As we walk along Alii Dr. all of the restaurants and coffee shops have been open since 3:00 a.m. and are filling with spectators. This event generates a lot of people, something like 2000 athletes, who knows how many administrators/officials with the event, 5000 volunteers, and you can guess how many spectators all of whom are working the event or moving toward it. All over the island along the race route groups are setting up aid stations and spectators are finding their spot to watch the fun. By the time we reach the sea wall, people have already started to fill in what space there is to watch the start. I'm just walking along and thinking how amazing it is that I get to be part of this. With me are family and friends and we walk to the back of the King Kamehameha Hotel where the lines for body marking start. Here everyone is divided, athletes only, family you wait over there, into pros and AGs. I have to say that everytime you enter a restricted area for this event every volunteer greets you with an Aloha and a smile. I feel very important and special. In the marking line I'm greeted by two volunteers from New Zealand who carefully apply my number with large number stamps. The woman fills in the voids with a pen, tells me not to put anything on the ink for at least 15 minutes. They bid me good bye and wish me a great day, then I look for the exit. You're not done yet, have to go through medical and get weighed, 183 for me this morning. Now Maureen, Charlotte, Bob, and I go over to one of the tents to relax. We are near the small lagoon in front of the hotel. I leave them for a while to go get the bike ready. It's pretty straight forward, pump up the tires, fill the bento box with nutrition, fill the aero water bottle and slide a electrolyte bottle into the cage. Check the helmet. All done. No, rear tube explodes. Bike tech runs up and says don't worry. Wants to know what size tube I have and in minutes all is repaired and I'm ready to go. You are probably thinking like me, how many obstacles can one have during a race. I was thinking, there can't be much more of this, I should be doing fine. I can hear the announcer getting ready for the pros who start at 6:30. Must be 6 or so. I'm all zipped in my Profile Design Mako TXT swim-skin kindly provided by Profile Design. They have 25 sponsored athletes in the race wearing their suit, and me, how cool is that. Charlotte helps me get covered in sunscreen and then I wait. The cannon goes off for the pro start. Then the rest of the AGs start filing through the small one person gate towards the swim ramp. It takes a few minutes but finally I'm knee-deep standing on the beach. Must be 6:30 now. We are exhorted to get into the water and start to fill in at the start line. Many are out there ahead of me. A quick dip in, put on the light blue cap with 246 on it, goggles, then swim out. The start line looks like it is 200 yards wide. I'm sure my perspective is off but it looks really large and I can't even tell how deep the line is. I swim out just to the right of the floating Ford Explorer, I think I'm in about 15 to 20 feet of water depth. I tread water for at least 20 minutes. There are people all around including racers, paddle boarders, boats, divers and more. Helicopter flying overhead, loud music, Hawaiian style from the pier, and Mike Reilly the voice of Ironman. My heart is pumping. Five minutes, then less and I'm looking at my watch, the cannon goes off, I press start and here we go.
Swim. You would think with a couple of thousand people swimming around you it might be a little rough. Strangely for me, though I was surrounded, it was a great start. Just find your pace and get your line. Every once in a while someone would cross my line or I would catch someone, but the groups just fanned out and from my position the out portion was great. Once the turbulence calmed you could watch the sea floor and the sea life around you. We were quickly into deeper water and the colors changed from greens to blues. I learned later that the water was a little rough that morning but I just pushed on sighting in on landmarks I had identified in earlier swims that week. You have to know that an ocean swim for 2.4 miles sight wise is a long way. I had done it before so I was patient. I made the turn around the double hull canoe at about one hour and headed back. The swells were more active and came across your face from left to right. I think several people had problems. I heard later that 37 people didn't complete the swim. Don't know how true that is but I'm not surprised. Coming back I thought I would have to work hard trying to sight over the swells but there was a volunteer, a woman I think, on a blue surfboard, who seemed to be just ahead of me off to the right in line with the buoys. After a few minutes this seemed consistent so I just used her to sight, almost like swimming in a pool. Pretty soon I had reached the turn in front of the pier. These last few hundred yards were lined on both sides by surfboards and riders cheering. I watched my surfboard angel turn off and then just followed the surfboards in. You could see all the people on the pier as you turned to breathe, the cheers of the surfboard riders, the giant Perform bottle, and the ever present announcer drawing you in. I know my pace picked up for at least the last 200. I swam until I hit the sand, reaching down to steady myself as I stood. There was a little stumble then a few feet and a hand reached out to pull me in to the ramp. "You made it," someone says. "Welcome, great job." I say thanks and head up the ramp. I'm told the Mike announced my name and where I was from coming out of the water but I am not sure I heard it. Into the water hoses, pick up my bike bag, and into the changing tent. I sit down and peel off the swim skin. Try and shake the water off and the cobwebs out. Pull on my bike shorts, and hit the toilet. Seemed like I was peeing forever. Then jersey, socks (kind of hard to put on) shoes, more sunscreen, and out. Run down and through the transition, volunteers everywhere cheering you on, I get to the bike. Sunglasses, number belt, helmet, bike- go Harry. I run to the mount up area right behind Gayla and out we go.
Bike. Crowds on both sides out the chute make a left onto Palani, "Go Harry!" I hear from family and friends on the street. Your race number has your name on it so I hear people calling out my number and name all day. I'm right in it, and it is everything like the videos I have watched for years. Make a short climb, left turn onto Kuakini. From there the route goes a few blocks, squares up to the Queen K, right turn back to Palani, slow descent to Kuakini, left turn and follow Kuakini on a ascent. A few miles out and back, I pass family two times, back to Palani. Right turn up hill on Palani to the Queen Kaahumanu Highway. So far about 8-10 miles. Left turn there and then the crowds and town are left behind as you head north. This part of the ride is totally doable, seems like you are moving comfortably and after you pass the airport road it begins to build. Up and down through the lava fields to Waikaloa Village road. It is hot, and very quiet. For the most part this is a dedicated 112 mile course with little or no traffic. You hear other cyclists, the wind, and the occasional vehicle. The farther out you go there tends to be more traffic. The road is smooth and all the intersections are police controlled. The first aid station is at mile 15 and then about every 7 miles after. You get lots of encouragement at the stations, they are long, and repeat the different fluids and foods three times. You also come to occasional groups of spectators who have set up along side the road to cheer for anyone in the race. "Come on Harry, great job, you can do it..." After 40 or so miles you are through Kawaihae and climbing to Hawi. Seems like the incline ranged 4 to 6 percent on the steeps, but always some incline. The last 12 miles really tested my resolve. I wondered if this was really such a good idea. Eventually I made the turn around at Hawi. I got off the bike long enough to use the toilet, then off and downhill. During the ride I ate about two gels per hour, one salt pill per, got fresh electrolyte and water alternating stations. I felt confident with my fueling and fluids. Though it was really hot I was not in any discomfort due to that. It did become obvious that after Hawi power was going to be an issue. By mile 70 I had very little feeling in my left arm and both tris were semi-cramped from gripping the headset, neck and shoulders very sore. Coming down from Hawi you have a lot of crosswinds that will move your bike several feet to the side. Fortunately I had done a test ride on Wednesday so I was good in the aero position even with the winds. At this point I thought I needed to be going faster to make the cutoff so I pressed if I could. My bike meter reveals however that I often used descents to rest. I made the turn, and head uphill from Kawaihae. From Hapuna on it is constant headwinds. I look at my time and speed. I'm not making the 15 mph average I had hoped for. Now it is starting to look close. I go as hard as I can but my splits show a gradual slow down. Somewhere with about 25 miles to go a motorcycle escort pulls up along side and asks how I'm doing. We talk about my pace and the distance left. He encourages me and then goes ahead. I talk to him again in a bit. I'm a little unsure of distance here but the bottom line is for the last miles I had to average 16 or 17 mph to make the cutoff. I was somewhere around 12 plus or minus. He said I probably wasn't going to make it and wanted to know if I needed a ride. I told him I wanted to ride it in so he said if I could get to the airport soon it would be alright. I thought that meant if I could push a little to the airport I might make it but what he meant was that I wouldn't be sag-ed off the road. So I went as best I could knowing I wasn't making the cut off and was able to complete the entire bike, sadly 24:43 past the cutoff. I rode past the Energy Lab and watched runners on their way out and back, and I was sadden knowing I was not going to be one of those today. This was a very emotional point for me then and I feel it now as real as it was then. As I came back into town through the controlled intersections, only the run was manned. As for most of the ride, I was quite alone. I finally made the last turn onto Palani and coasted two blocks down a descent that hours earlier had been lined with crowds and volunteers telling riders to slow for the descent. Now there was a handful who greeted me along this stretch and a few words of encouragement. Words and phrases that recognized the effort and realized that for me, the day was done. All of the crowds were now at the run finish as well as the bike volunteers. Slowly I rolled in to where I thought the dismount area was, but the usual sign was gone and there was no one to direct me. I got off at the bike finish arch and walked the next few meters. Finally a volunteer came up and took my bike and helmet to the racks. Normally here there would be a run through transition to the run bag and changing room but that was not to be. I stood for a moment wondering what to do now and the person who took the bike said I should just go ahead and follow finishers over to the post race area. Then I had a bottle of water in my hands, I don't know where it came from. A race official, you can tell who the official people are because their shirts have collars and they have name tags, came up to me and with him came one of the T.V. crews, cameraman and sound. I think his job was to be the consoling greeter and the one to officially tell me that my race was over. We basically had that conversation: how are you feeling, are you ok, do you need anything, how's your emotions, do you want medical, etc. Finally he said it, he was sorry but had to inform me that the race was over and I could not continue. I had been in the race just shy of 11 hours, it was now about 6:00 p.m.. I knew if I could continue I had plenty of time to finish the run but the rules prevent that. We talked a little about how I felt about the race in general and how I felt not being able to go on. I think I responded that I could go on but understood why I couldn't. I liked the event, it was hard and I wasn't up to the pace to make the cutoff. That was it. He thanked me for my effort and that is pretty much my last official contact.
After that I was able to meet up with all the family and friends who had traveled to be part of this event with me: Maureen, Charlotte, Bob, Kanoa, Anna, Kaleo, Mike, Maria, Em, B.J., Teri, Danny, Martin, Wendy and Abby. We talked for a while, took some pictures on the sand near the lagoon, and tried to make the best of the moment. Then we divided up and I once again joined the throng of mostly finishers as we pressed through the crowd back to the transition to retrieve our bikes and bags. Of course all during this time you could hear all the music, cheers and crowd noises at the finish. I'm just going through the motions as I gather up my gear wondering what it would have been like to run up the steep ramp and pass under the official finish line. At this point exhaustion and disappointment were the drivers and I headed home with my crew back to the condo. We walked together up Palani, down Kuakini, then down Hualalai, and Alii Dr. walking past all the runners who still had as much as 16 miles to go. There was lots of conversation, and I'm sure I participated but being a bit despondent, I really didn't pay attention. We got back to the condo and I cleaned up. I should have gone to bed but Kaleo was going home in the morning so I wanted to have a family dinner before he left. Maureen and I don't often get that because the kids live in different places. Tired but refreshed, we had a great time at Sam Choy's. I didn't go back to the finish line so I guess I didn't experience everything, I know it was awesome. But I didn't miss it. I was right where I was supposed to be.
More to come, A Hui Hou. Ko Aloha La Ea.
