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Eight and half-hours into our ten-hour flight from Newark to Honolulu, Lisa turns to me and says “I can’t take it anymore, get me off this plane!” My quick response was “suck it up, we’re going to freakin’ Hawaii!” I mean, one of the biggest draws of doing this race is that it’s in Hawaii. I don’t think the attraction would be quite as awesome if it were the Indiana World Triathlon Championships.
When we landed in Kona, I felt much more relaxed then in previous years. Sure I was excited; Kona and this race have become a great part of me. Yet, I believe that your present surroundings either add or deduct energy from you. If you are hammering away on the bike in a triathlon, feeling very studly and positive, and all of a sudden, a fellow tri-weenie in your age group blows by you looking relaxed, your thoughts quickly change to negatives. This is an example of someone else taking energy from you. Anyway, the previous three years, I have given a lot of my energy away after stepping off the plane into the Kona heat and wind, and looking at all the super-fit freaks. That’s also another thing about this race. Most races, you will see all different shapes and sizes participating. At “The Ironman”, every single person looks like they can win the race! Everyone is real lean and muscular.
Last years situation for me here in Hawaii really put things in perspective. I was just really psyched to be back. I’d like to think that DNF’ing last year was a bummer at the time, but that I’m fortunate to have my health and the ability to compete at this race, and that there will be other times. But the truth of it is that there wasn’t a day that went by since that 1998 race that I haven’t thought about it. I couldn’t let it go. Here I completed the race twice before, and in good times, and I couldn’t even remember those experiences. Well I was humbled by last year’s experience. I’ve learned to change my focus from expectations, to focusing more on the process of the journey. I think the results have been that I’m more relaxed and racing better.
Lisa couldn’t believe how relaxed I was during race week, compared with the previous three years. I was enjoying Hawaii, the beaches and good restaurants, and not staying holed up in my room just focusing on race day. In fact, I think Lisa and my father (my parents came on Wed.) were more nervous then me!
One of my favorite parts of this whole race experience is swimming at the pier in the mornings. The energy is unreal! The buoys are laid out for weeks before the race and all the competitors and athletes that just come to watch, swim in the mornings. The water is incredible! It’s crystal clear and really salty, and there are tons of fish swimming around to watch. Swimming out into the Pacific is very serene and spiritual for me (except on race morning when you get the crap beat out of you). Lisa will usually hang out on the Pier wall and watch all the buzz, and famous athletes like Paula Newby-Frasier, Mark Allen, Wendy Ingraham, and Scott Tinley swim side by side with us mortals. Last year, on Tuesday before the race, I swam about two miles with Fernanda Keller. I definitely don’t recommend this, but usually this is my biggest swim training week leading up to the race. I usually swim only once per week because of time constraints and the fact that I’d rather be outside riding and running.
By mid-week I was ready to go. I was tired of waiting for Saturday, and just wanted to get it on. Physically, I felt good. All my friends and family turned me into a bit of a hypochondriac in the months leading to this race. Everyone was so concerned for my health, and didn’t want me to get sick again, that I felt so fragile. I was constantly self evaluating my health, and anytime I simply sneezed, or coughed lightly, I would think “oh no!” If one more person asked me how I felt or told me to wear a mask on the plane, I was going to snap! I appreciated the care and concern, but I think I let it take some of my energy. The nerves began to build a bit on Friday. It’s funny, no matter how well I prepared for the Ironman, because my last experience was a DNF, I couldn’t get a grasp on what to expect. I kept reaffirming positive thoughts though. I visualized every night for the past four months how I wanted my race too unfold. I slept great all week while in Kona. I guess I finally had some time to sleep. I kept my training really easy during race week (besides swimming). I ran four times, between 15 and 30 minutes, and I rode four times, between 30 and 90 minutes. I kept the intensity really easy and just tried to stay loose.
I had a great support crew this year. Lisa of course, and my parents, as well as a great friend of mine who moved from CT to the San Diego area around seven years ago. I haven’t seen him in about 4 years. He and Lisa coordinated, through e-mail, to suprise me at the carbo party on Thursday evening. He’s a great guy and it was cool having him there. He’s getting ready for his first Ironman at IM Cal, so he was soaking everything in. My father loves being here for the race, the energy and motivation, and running and training on Alii Avenue. My mother seemed to have a blast. I think that coming to this race helped her understand me better. In fact, anyone doing an Ironman should bring some support crew of close people with him or her. They will get almost as much out of the experience as the athlete they are supporting will. Lisa was awesome. She was a big support all year, and she really believes in me. I also saw a lot of the athletes from CT during race week. CT had 14 talented athletes competing in Hawaii. I bet if you took the top five amateur times from the race from every state, CT would be on top of the list with the fastest time.
Race Day
My alarm went off at 4:30am. I shoved down two bagel and peanut butter sandwiches and a Met-Rx and banana milk shake and threw on my race uniform. I made another sandwich and put it in my bike special needs bag, along with a frozen Snickers candy bar, and a bag of salty potato chips (the lunch of champions!). In my Run special needs bag, all I put was a power bar. I haven’t been using gel packets this year and have been doing much better. I think they are too concentrated and require too much fluid in the digestive system. This takes much needed fluid away from my working muscles, and/or messes up my stomach. I prepped three H2O bottles the night before with 50% Gatorade, 50% water, and a packet of salt in each, and then froze them. Other then this food and drink, 3 Phil’s Bars, 2 Power Bars, and sodium tablets, I would get the rest of my nutrition from the aid stations on the course.
The hour and a half before the gun goes off are the worst part of race day for me. I’m anxious and nervous, and I always ask myself why the hell I’m putting myself through this again. I took a portable CD player with me this year and listened to music. This helped, and it also put some good tunes in my head for the race. Two years ago, I had this stupid commercial jingle in my head that I heard that morning replaying over and over during the bike. At about 6:45am I said a prayer, and swam out to the starting line and proceeded to tread water and get kicked in the shins fighting to hold my position in the crowd for 15 minutes. It gets so competitive at this point like being one body position in front of someone is going to make or break the all day race ahead. The canon booms and for the next 58 minutes, I’m fighting more then swimming to find my own space. The swim never spreads out here because everyone is so good. The swim didn’t feel great; but then again, I didn’t expect it too with the training that I did. What I did expect was to come out in 58 minutes, and when I stood up on the ramp exiting the Pacific, the clock read 57 minutes and 44 seconds. Right on track.
I rinsed quick and threw on my race belt and bike gear and got ready to begin my strength in this race. I pumped up Pay N’ Save hill quite easy (don’t want any burn in the first mile!), and headed out on the Queen K highway with what seemed like all 1500 competitors at once. Three miles into the ride I encounter a pack of cyclists taking up the whole road. I weave my way through to put this pack behind me, when a motorcycle with a race official pulls up next to me and tells me to dismount. I pull over and wait for the official. The problem is that there are so many cyclists that she can’t cross over to me. I stand there watching maybe 40 cyclists blow by before she finally crosses and tells me I’m receiving a three-minute penalty for passing on the right. I asked why the #$@^% she didn’t nail any of the drafters and blockers as she marked my race number, but she didn’t respond. Then I went to take off, and she yells that she still needs to mark my bike number. Finally I get going, knowing that not only do I have to serve a three minute penalty when I get done with the bike, but if I get another penalty, I’m DQ’d! I start riding conservatively but that’s ok for now because my legs don’t feel that snappy anyway. I start thinking that this is going to be a long day. The bike is my strength and I feel like crap, and the run is where I’ve had difficulty here. Get ready to suffer Eric. As you can see, I’m giving my energy away at this point to the course and anyone who wants it, but once I reach the turnaround, I get that great lunch in my special needs bag and that will re-fuel me.
I come off the turn around in Hawi and I’ve already peed like three times. Here comes the special needs hand off, although they have nothing to hand me. I’m pissed at the time, but I realize these volunteers have there hands full, and I don’t have time at this point to stop and wait for them to find it. Besides, I think that one of those volunteers saw my delicious lunch I packed and chowed down. Things aren’t going as I envisioned every night for the past 4 months. Then came a big turning point. I see, still heading towards Hawi, Rick and Dick Hoyt. Dick is pedaling a specially made bike with a seat up front for his son who has cerebral palsy. They are still around 20 miles from the turn around, or 40 miles behind me. Dick has to pedal in an upright (e.g. not very aero) position, and the wind is blowing and it’s mostly uphill to Hawi. I thought, man Eric, suck it up and get your sorry ass more positive. I started to feel better and then even better. I motored the last 40 miles of the ride, probably averaging around 24 mph.
I dismounted my bike feeling pretty good and went to the penalty box to serve my time. Three minutes later, I charged out and headed into the changing tent. While putting on my running shoes, a volunteer was cleaning my sunglasses and popped out my lens. After playing with it for a bit, I finally snapped it back in and exited T2. Eight minute transition, including penalty, - way to go!
My first four steps of the run, I knew I was going to do well. My legs were heavy. Sometimes, you have that heaviness that you know is going to be with you for the long haul, but this wasn’t the case. I knew in a few miles it would work out. I took it really easy into the pit, and then started to get into a groove on Alii at around mile four. I was running strong and, even better, my stomach felt fine. I switched between water and Gatorade and occasionally grabbed a banana or piece of cookie. I went through the 13-mile mark in 1 hour and 25 minutes. At around mile 17 in the Energy Lab, my cardio felt good but my legs started to feel beat up. The pavement pounding was taking its toll so I focused on keeping it steady until mile 20. I broke the last part of the marathon into segments. At 20 miles, I hadn’t walked yet, but I was definitely slowing. My next goal was 22 miles, which seemed forever, and I finally walked through the aid station, getting in some fluids and I started to use coke. Once you start using caffeine out there, you need to continue frequently, so I save it for a last resort. I ran again focusing on mile 24. The last two miles of this race are down hill, and the crowd is booming, so you definitely get that well needed adrenaline kick. I walked at mile 23 and 24-aid station again, and then decided to bring it home. Coming back into town and hearing the crowds was better this year then any other. First there were even more people, second, I made up for last year, and third, I knew I was doing a good time. The final 100 yards were amazing! I was slapping high fives on both sides of the street, and my legs were floating. Thinking about it right now I have the chills. When I saw Lisa after crossing the finish line she was crying, and I started crying. I put a lot of lonely training miles and hard work into this one-day and it paid off. My finishing time was 9 hours 19 minutes and I ran a 3 hour and 6 minute marathon. I finished 66th overall, 8th in my age group and the first American in my age group. And I recovered great! I went back to the condo, showered, and then my support crew and I went out to the Hard Rock Café for some cheeseburgers, fries, and beers.
I wish everyone could experience the feeling of the last 100 yards of this race. I can’t describe it in justice so I won’t bother. Lisa and my parents already are excited for next year, and I haven’t even decided what I want to do yet. As for right now, I need to finish filling out this Lake Placid Ironman Qualifier application!
Cheers!
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