2004 Hawaii Wrapup

Lisa and I are aboard our flight from Kona to LA.   We just finished eating a great dinner at Huggo's in Kailua before boarding, where we polished off a bottle of wine, so this may be a long journal.   She's already sound asleep, 5 minutes into the trip.   In fact, the majority of the plane is.   I can't sleep on planes, so I will try to put my Ironman 2004 experience into words.

If someone had told me that I'd do a 10:27 on race day in the week leading up to Hawaii, I would have laughed to myself and thought "only if I get six flats this time".   Not that 10:27 is a bad time, but I just know the training that I did for this year's race and how I was the fastest ever in the benchmarks that I use each year to measure my fitness.   Sometimes your slowest races though can be your most rewarding, as I was soon to learn.

As most know by now, I accepted my entry into this year's IM as a dedication to my friend Rick, who is battling cancer, and his family. I wanted to raise some cash for the cancer center that is treating him in the process. Once I decided to race in Hawaii, I became very focused on representing Rick and myself well out there and in shooting for my fastest race in Hawaii to date.   This was my sixth trip to Hawaii, and although I truly love the island, the trip, the experience, it certainly doesn't get any easier, time-wise, to train for.   But I knew that once I committed to racing, I'd get the work done.

My build-up for this race was outstanding.   I felt that, two weeks out from the race, I had done everything I possibly could have, given the time I had to prepare, to show up at that starting line in the best form.   The only real drawback I had was the week before I left.   My allergies were so bad in Connecticut, that training was difficult.   Aside from this though, I had some stellar training sessions, and I, like always, really enjoyed the training.   Some key sessions that indicated I was in my best-ever shape: I rode to Vermont on a Friday (approximately 145 miles) and averaged around 23 mph for the trip.   I rode back the next day averaging 21 mph in very hot weather.   This round trip was done at a very controlled heart rate. I jumped into the New Haven 20K on Labor Day after a busy training weekend and ran comfortably and steady at 5:48 per mile pace for a 1:12.   I had done numerous bricks where I rode challenging courses at a hard effort and still ran 6:30/mile or better for the brick run.   I had devised a new IM training ride of 40 min at IM effort plus 5 to 10 beats, followed by 20 minutes of very easy recovery, repeating this 40/20 sequence 4 or 5 times in a long ride and was absolutely cranking during the 40 minutes segment.   I even got 12 swim sessions in during my build from August 1 st until going out to Kona. I was the leanest I had been going into any IM.   My upper thighs are usually vascular, but I had a ridiculous amount of veins showing.   I even had them showing on my stomach. It was kind of grossing Lisa out.   And I was eating a ton, to assure recovery.   I was eating, 80% of the time, good, healthy food.   Lots of carbohydrates and protein in each meal.   I did sneak in that weekly pint of ice cream though.   I averaged between 15 and 20 hours of training each week.   Not a lot by most Ironman standards, but I am a firm believer that if you don't have the time to put in the quantity, then focus on quality.   I felt that this training regimen gave me enough stimulation to race fast, recover, and still find time for other important things.  

I flew out to Hawaii the Saturday before the race, using the six days there to try and acclimate to the different weather.   Lisa was to meet me on Thursday, and my in-laws would get to spend some quality time with Ryan and Kate.   Lisa and I had always done this trip together, and we have had some great times in Hawaii, so I was a bit sad about heading out alone.   She likes to tease me about traveling.   You see, I usually travel with her or Big Rock's to the races, and they usually take care of all the arrangements.   Even when I traveled without them to races, I seemed to have had others like Angela Forster or Reenie Parker there, making things run smoothly.   So Lisa sends me off and mentions "when they announce at the airport 'any small children or others traveling alone that need assistance' you go with them".   What a wise-ass.   Anyway, we were to stay in a very nice hotel, the Fairmount Orchid, when Lisa arrived.   But since it was 30 minutes away from the "hub" of activity during race week in Kona, I booked a room at a place in town until Thursday.   This turned out to be a very bad move.   Now I have certainly stayed at my share of "bad" hotels, and I don't need much to be happy.   Just a clean and quiet room.   Well this room faced the street, and in particuliar, a very busy intersection in Kailua.   Probably the busiest intersection there.   From 9pm until 2am the first four nights, all that I heard was stereos blasting way too much bass, horns honking obnoxiously, and doctored-up engines revving way too loud.   Then, at 3am each morning, the street sweepers would make their runs.   I tried putting on the AC in the room, but that just made things worse.   If you want to experience how the air conditioner worked in this room, crank your car AC up full blast and then rest your head about two inches away from the air vent. When I came back from a swim on Wednesday morning and found a guy dressed in a green jump suit with a gas mask on and a huge canister and spray gun leaving my room, I decided to get the hell out of dodge.   I moved up to the Orchid a day early, which was perfect.

Sunday through Friday in Hawaii, the weather was just strange.   The sun would be out occasionally, but there was also a lot of overcast.   Tuesday through Friday, there was no wind!   I rode with Gus, Joe and David from Hapuna Beach towards Hawi on Tuesday and there was no headwind.   There is always a headwind there.   It actually rained a bit more than usual on the Kona side of the island also this week.   The one thing I know about Hawaii is that the weather can change on a dime, and this year certainly proved that.   But I couldn't help but think during race week about fast times if the weather held the same pattern.   The only concern I had was that I was sweating quite abit during the week.   I don't know why, but it felt like I wasn't acclimating to the heat and humidity like I had in the past.     

I had a lot of fun hanging around with Gus, Joe, Dan, and Chris early in the week.   It was great to see Joe and Gus soaking it all in.   I really think Joe learned that this race is more an experience, and you need to enjoy it.   Going out for a beer or two and some good food doesn't mean that you are going to have a bad race.   I think it actually aids your race, because it allows you to relax a bit mentally.   On Tuesday, we swam early at the pier in some of the best water you could swim in.   Then we did the ride up towards Hawi, with the ocean views on one side of us and the mountains on the other.   Then we floated around in the water at Hapuna Beach, one of the nicest beaches in the world, and finished the day with a nice dinner.   It doesn't get much better than that.   Dan came to swim on Tuesday and looked very fit.   I knew he was in for a good day.   He dragged my ass around Kailua Bay for 45 minutes Tuesday morning, and besides his poor navigation (I guess the equipment in these jets he flew took care of directions) he was motoring and making it look easy.

Race Morning: Standard 4am wake up call.   I slept quite good awakening only once during the night and falling right back to sleep.   I had 3 cans of vanilla boost and a banana, for 820 calories, plus 2 cups of black coffee.   I took a warm shower to loosen up and then Lisa and I headed off   to Kailua.   Getting body marked at Hawaii is a pain in the ass.   They won't let you near the transition area or your bike until you have been marked.   With champion chip timing, why do they need to body mark anyway?   There was a huge line to wait in.   I ran into Mitch Gold, a friend who is stationed with the marines near San Diego, and it was cool catching up with him while we both waited to get marked.     I then had barely enough time to get my water bottles containing all my nutrition onto my bike.   I was carrying all my calories in liquid form in two water bottles.   I then waited in another line to get into the water.   The pro's race was off since they started 15 minutes earlier.   I waded out to the start and seeded myself near the front row in the middle of the pack.   As I'm treading water, I bump into Mitch again, who is treading next to Scott Molina.   He introduces me to Scott quickly.   Joe Boness is also right next to me and he asks that we "be nice" during the swim.   I planned on swimming with a Speedo aqua blade skinsuit, like the suits the athletes wore in the olympics.   These suits run very snug, and I was going to be wearing it over my race uniform, but Lisa convinced me not to.   She was smart.   I tried it out the day before and it felt fast, but very constricting.   For a 2.4 mile swim, it might be more of a hassle then a help.

The cannon went off and the first ½ mile of the swim was actually quite civilized.   I had a plan of swimming conservatively.   Why waste myself in the swim to make up two minutes maybe when it may tire me for the bike a bit?   The swim felt very easy.   I got behind a good pair of feet and settled in.   I came out in 58 minutes flat, which I was very happy with, especially considering that most thought the strong current slowed the swim down by two or more minutes.   As I'm running through the shower, I look over and notice Ian Ray right next to me.   1800 athletes in the race and Ian and I come out right next to each other!   He had a faster transition than me, but I joined him at about the 3 mile mark of the ride.   My bike plan was also to ride somewhat conservative, especially for the first 65 miles.   I had been riding very strong, so I thought that I could ride a bit easier and save my legs to have a good marathon.   Man was I and 1799 other athletes in for a surprise.  

The packs were huge on the bike, but I'm not going to beat a dead horse here - I've elaborated enough on this in my past journals.   The ride out to the airport felt super easy, and I thought that I would be in for a fast bike split, hopefully sub 5 hours.   Just past the airport however, the winds started blowing.   Madame Pele was not happy on Saturday.   There was a direct headwind for the next 25 miles, and then a side/head wind for the next 15 to the turn-around in Hawi.   In the past in Hawaii, you would get winds, but they would come and go, and blow during different parts of the bike.   Not this time.   The wind was steady, and ontop of this, the temperature was really climbing.   I have a slight case of exercise induced asthma that really acts up when I'm riding into a strong headwind.   My lungs sieze up a bit, making it difficult to go fast.   I felt pretty weak during this headwind, all the way to the turn around.   My only saving grace was that everyone was hurting.   My lungs finally adapted just after the turnaround.   But problem number two came about.   I was using an incredible set of race wheels.   Hed tri spoke full carbon wheels.   They are super fast, but they also have a lot of side surface area for the wind to catch.   The front wheel, combined with the aero fork on my bike made a lethal combination this day.   I couldn't control my bike in the 30 to 50 mile per hour wind gusts!   Flying down the hill back from Hawi, I was almost thrown from my bike eight times.   I couldn't ride in the aero position, and was wrestling with my pursuit bars, struggling to control this wheel like I was trying to stay on a mechanical bull.   Eating and drinking during this time was out of the question since I couldn't take my hands off the bars.   I fought this for the next 15 miles until we turned back onto the queen K into another headwind!   I saw Lisa at this corner, and yelled that I felt good.   I did actually and felt like I was not only coming around, but that I was riding conservative like my plan and was going to run a scorcher of a marathon.  

The wind continued to get worse for the remainder of the ride. From the airport back to Kailua, it was extremely strong.   I was noticing the other cyclists around me and how they looked wasted and they were caked with salt.   The last 5 miles of the ride seemed to last a long time and I was very anxious to get the hell off my saddle.   As I entered the transition, I dismounted and this is when I really became concerned.   I had been battling the wind for so long during the bike that I didn't   notice how hot and humid it was getting.   As soon as I stopped cycling, it felt like I was sitting in a sauna with a huge sun light right on me. To feel the heat so intensely before even taking a step, that's certainly not a good sign.   In fact, I stood there for a moment, a bit dazed and confused.   Then I trotted into the changing tent with my transition bag.   I sat down for a second with a cold towel draped on my shoulders.   I thought "this is going to be very, very painful".   I left the transition area in what felt like a very slow jog.   I was already thinking that I had 26 miles to get through and I'm having a difficult time getting to mile .5.   This is where I had to begin digging deep.   It took a lot mentally, knowing that I was going to be suffering very badly for 26 miles, to take those first few steps.   The thing that made me keep jogging forward was thinking about what Rick was going through and the fact that I was representing him here. I kept this slow jog going for the first 10K, and I was actually moving at 7:30 per mile pace, but it felt extremely hard and extremely slow.   The heat just kept intensifying and the sun was beating down hard.   My stomach was fine, but I felt so over heated.   Did I mention it was hot?   This first 10K was, at the time, the hardest 10K I had ever run.   I felt the heat and humidity like I had in St. Croix, when it got the better of me.   The run starts by running down Alii Drive for 5 miles to a turnaround, then coming back the same way.   I started to walk at the 7 mile mark.   I started to do a self evaluation also of my condition, thinking about whether I was doing myself harm by forging on.   There was no way I was stopping though.   I looked for my athletes and athletes I knew in the race, coming out to the trunaround while I was heading back.   This helped take the focus off of me.   I was concerned when I didn't see Rob or Gus.  
I knew that Gus was in great shape, the best condition I have ever seen him in.   He was relaxed during race week and ready, so I knew something bad must have happened to pull him out.   Gus is one hell of an athlete and he will certainly be back.   I haven't spoken with Rob yet, so I hope he is ok.  

I was thinking that I'd be walking the remaining 19 miles when an Australian athlete came jogging up next to me.   He put his hand on my back and said "come on, run wit me mate".   So I started a very slow trot with him.   We didn't talk, we both just used all our energy to run.   He was running so slow that I actually dropped him very quickly and kept this pace until the 10 mile mark, where I started to walk again    About ¾ of a mile later, I hear these slow, squishy footsteps coming up on me and it's the Aussie again.   "Stick with me bud, let's go" he said.   I again started to jog with him.   Soon again, I found myself dropping him and heading off alone.   Once again though, the sun just drained me and at the 13 mile mark, I found myself walking again.   My internal temperature felt so high.   At every aid station, I dumped ice in my hat, and down the front and back of my uniform.   I alternated between water and coke.   I was doing 4 to 6 endurolytes per hour now.   At the 13.5 mile mark, the Aussie came up on me once again.   Before he could speak, I jokingly said "would you quit bugging me you bastard!"   We both smiled and I started to jog once again with him. For the next two miles, we didn't say a thing.   But it was comforting having a companion out there to shuffle along with.   As we entered the energy lab, I pulled ahead and continued running, albeit slowly for the remainder of the race.   It was 100 degrees coming out of the energy lab, according to Degree's official temperature reading.   I wish I knew who the Australian is, or that I could find him after the race somewhere to thank him.   He made a huge difference out there.   The last 10K was absolutely the worst.   If I wasn't zoned out, I was doing whatever I could to divert the pain of each dead-legged stride.   Even the run down Alii, which is amazingly special, and, in my opinion, the best finish line anywhere, was painful.   I crossed the finish line with huge relief and hugged Lisa, who was there waiting, both in joy and so that she could keep me upright.   A volunteer was nicely trying to get me to my finishers medal and T-shirt, but I was zoning out quickly and headed for the med tent.   I have never witnessed the med tent so crowded before.   It looked like every pro athlete was in there.   I was given two IV's and they did a blood sample on me.   One strange thing was that my blood sugar level was high.   Obviously I wasn't metabolizing the sugars correctly, and this had/has me a bit concerned.   I ran into David Uri finishing when I was coming out of the med tent.   He looked great.   He was smiling ear to ear, and I could tell that this was a very special day for him.   Seeing this, combined with the two IV's, certainly perked me up a bit.   To give an idea of how difficult the conditions were this year: The usual dnf (did not finish) rate in Hawaii is 2.5%.   This years race, 11.5% of the field dnf'd.   30% of the pro's dnf'd.

I felt good the next day.   As I sat by the ocean and reflected back on my race, I felt good about the day.   I finished what I began, and, although I wanted to go faster, I knew that I had laid everything I had out there on this day.   It just wasn't my day from a physical standpoint, but I completed another Hawaii Ironman.   I met an amazing guy out on the course who kept me moving, witnessed athletes I coach finish a monumental goal, and represented Rick, Lisa, Claire, and Jill Moisan.     

This is the part where I get a little bit philosophical.   I think what I learned most this year was what the most important things are that Hawaii has provided for me.   I always want to race for a personal best, but I try to draw out the lessons learned from each experience.   Things happen for a reason, and, to me, it's important to try and understand why.   Hawaii has provided an accelerated opportunity for me to learn more about myself and my character.   It has been an opportunity for Lisa and I to really reconnect, since it's easy to take your spouse for granted during common, every-day life.   It's been a chance to meet some really interesting people, as well as learn more about friends.   It's taught me about a lifestyle of action, fun, self-growth, adventure, and drive.   And about taking chances.   I will always be a competitor, but it's more important to me to take the things of value and apply them towards my each and every day.   Because the more I think about it, in the very short future, it won't really matter much how fast I covered that 140.6 miles, but rather that I took the chance.

Some serious thank yous are due.  

Thanks to the Moisan's.   They provided the motivation to pursue this opportunity one more time.   I think of them all the time and the fight they are undergoing.   They are quite amazing people.

Thanks to Baker and Kenny for keeping me company on some great training rides and runs.

Thanks Scott and Angela for your continued support, enthusiasm, and caring friendship.

Thanks Matt C. at Cannondale for providing such a cool and fast bike.

Thanks Alan M. for providing a great web site.

Thanks David Uri for getting Lisa the VIP pass race day, and for the way you crossed that finish line. Good energy.

Thanks to my PT clients for being so patient, supportive, and understanding during my build-up.

Thanks to all my clients and friends who were so supportive in my endeavor and in providing donations in Rick's name to the Harold Leever Center.

Thanks to Ryan and Kate.   You two, along with Lisa, are the most absolutely amazing and wonderful things to me.

Thanks Lisa, once again, for putting up with me and for being there.   The fun and laughs that we have had in Hawaii are what memories should be about.

Cheers,

EH

The wife's perspective....

Number six.   That's the number of times I have been lucky enough to step off the plane in Kona and be a part of Ironman.   Although I could never imagine putting in the mileage and time to train for this event, a part of me wished I could have the focus and drive to run down Alii drive just once to experience that special feeling of finishing the Hawaii Ironman. Witnessing Eric finish five of his six starts here has been incredible.   Even that one illusive finish is just as special because it proved to me that it is about the journey and sometimes things don't always go as planned but life still goes on.

As a 6 time spectator, I feel have a little knowledge about Ironman conditions. As we were leaving the resort at 5:00 am race day to head to Kona the wind was blowing and blowing strong.   I thought the wind can't keep up like this all day, and if it does...I could'nt even let myself think about that.   You know how the story goes from here.

You would think that it would get easier to send your spouse off to the starting line the more times he finishes an Ironman.   This is not the case for me.   I was extremely nervous this year more so than previous starts.   The anticipation of the race is exhausting.    I wanted for Eric to have the "perfect race", not really knowing what that was. I too thought Eric was the fittest and in the best shape prior to a race.   I surely know that the hours were put in for training, and it still amazes me that he can come home after an 7 hour workout with a smile on his face, even though there wasn't always one on mine.   I have a love/hate relationship with Ironman.   I love going to the race and spectating (especially Hawaii), however I hate (maybe hate is too strong of a word, more like loathe) the training.   I think part of it is jealously and envy because I know I don't have the mindset to do it myself.   The other part is purely selfish because I want him to be home with me and the kids on the weekends. In the back of my mind I know how important it is to him and that it is a truly amazing feat. I try to remember that while he's out on his bike/run and sometimes it does make it easier when there is 3 loads of laundry that need to be done!

The VIP access was amazing (thank you David!). I don't know how I will cope with becoming a regular spectator again if we go back Kona! Lori (Gus's girlfriend) and I had a really great time together watching the race.  

I was getting updates from Scott, Angela and Big Rocks.   I knew he was running good until the 5 mile mark at what I consider an insane pace.   When I saw him make the turn up Palani hill, I knew he was in trouble.   It's so hard to watch him struggling and in pain.   He was only at mile 9 with the toughest part of the marathon still ahead of him. He jogged by with a glazed look in his eye.   He was running at this point.   As he went by I gave him a thumbs up, and he said to me "hardest one yet", then my heart sank. After he went by me at the bottom of Palani, I followed him up the hill until he was on the Queen K and out of sight, with tears streaming down my face, as he walked, sometimes stumbling. The amount of worry I had is hard to put into words as is the amount of pride and love I felt for him.

All in all it was his "perfect race".   He finished another goal he set out to do.   His time might not have been what he wanted it to be but the meaning behind this finish was more significant.   He was able to raise a considerable amount of money on Rick's behalf, who I also think is an amazing individual.        

Will there be a number seven?   He says no...although I have heard that before. Maybe not next year but we will be back to Kona again one day...and that's fine with me!