Wednesday morning we headed down to the pier for another early swim. Half of the city was swimming with us, the other half was watching. A friend back home who was online sucking up everything Kona just happened a across a video where we show up in the background. We actually remembered seeing the guy filming in front of us. I have to admit that Pat and I sat on my bed rewinding it over and over again pointing at the screen and laughing like we were 7yrs old. Ah, the little things in life. The video was on Everymantri.com if you care to play Where's Waldo with us (we show up somewhere around 1m20sec - blue swimsuits). We were actually walking around by the beach looking for Luis Vargas. He and all the MarkAllenOnline athletes (remember, Pat uses their coaching) were meeting to get swim tips from Luis and then swim the course together (yeah, I snickered at that one too. If only). Before they all took off never to be seen again, he gave suggestions about where to line up depending on how fast you were and how comfortable you were with "physicality" ... and talked about the extremely high density of the salt in the water and suggested coating yourself in a thin layer of vaseline to keep your skin from getting destroyed (great advice, but personally I think he hexed me. I had no problem on previous swims but of course this time I chaffed something fierce under my swimsuit's shoulder straps. Yes, it hurt just as much as you're thinking.)
The swim was still spectacular. There were big swells in the water this morning, but it was actually kinda cool (in a moderately frightening sort of way) to look up and sight and see nothing but a wall of water. We stopped at a buoy near the infamous coffee boat, about 50m perpendicular to the course and decided we might as well go check it out. Sure enough, they're handing cups of coffee to the swimmers over the side of the boat (I passed. Despising coffee on dry land I couldn't imagine I'd like it any better at sea). Blue Seventy reps were throwing goggles out into the water. If you looked below you you could see some brave swimmers diving all the way to the ocean floor to grab pairs that had sunk (it looked REALLY deep out there, though I really have no idea how deep ... all I know was that *I* was not that much in need of a free pair of goggles). We treaded water out here for a bit and just enjoyed the festivities before heading back to the course.
It's pretty interesting the things I noticed on the rest of the swim. For one, it occurred to me that the water was an amazingly gorgeous shade of blue – as in, not even a shade a blue I was sure I'd ever seen before ... followed by the thought of hmm, for some (hopefully not me, and not today, or any day in the near future) that could be the last color they ever see – really NOT a bad last color, as far as last colors go. No, I'm not morbid, and I wasn't scared of drowning at that particular moment (literally, if you stopped swimming and just barely moved your arms and legs every few seconds you would still float – the level of salt in the water is that intense. I think it would actually take some real effort to drown out there ... well, I suppose if another swimmer knocked you out cold it would be easy enough ... but again, I'm not morbid) – sometimes a brain just comes up with these things on its own! A little while later, where the water was a little deeper, I was just swimming along and taking in the aquarium-view when I noticed, oddly, that the fish would swim one direction in a little clump ... and then all of a sudden the entire fish-clump would quickly move backwards as a unit, almost out of my view. Took me a little while to realize that was the current way down there snatching them up and swooshing them back. I marveled over that for a little while until I realized I was feeling a little nauseous. That was enough fish-watching. I decided to just stop all thinking ... and swim. The rest of the swim was simply heaven.
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The waves got bigger and bigger, but that didn't stop anybody. Race day it was much calmer than this. |
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On the pier, post swim. Two happy kids. |
After getting back from the swim and grabbing some food we headed out for another ride on the Queen K. I was far from bored with the lava fields and wind ... but today's ride was topped off with a few extra cherries. First, while riding along with Pat behind me, a guy in nice green and white clothes, on a killer bike, with a moped beside him, flies by us. The clothes and the moped are dead giveaways that they guy is a pro ... as was the WEISS stamped on the top of his shorts. You just have to marvel over these guys' muscle tone as they go past - it's just unreal. As I'm giggling from this and hollering back to Pat to ask if she saw who that was, up ahead I see a group of runners. There's one guy out in front of about a dozen others ... and he looks incredible – you know, the kind of runner you look at and just think WOW I want to do THAT! He looks smooth and he makes it look so damn easy – it was just beautiful ... and as I get closer I realize he's not a young whippersnapper either – he looks like a slightly older guy, making it all the more impressive (at least to me, youth is truly wasted on the young). If I'd figured out who it was a split-second earlier I would've said 'Hi!' ... but by the time my brain put it all together I was too far up the road ... and Mark Allen was too far behind me. The bigger group (that he has left in the dust) passed a bit later and we DID say hello to them – we'd actually forgotten that MarkAllenOnline athletes were going out the Energy Lab and running the 5miles into town as a training run, a workout that Pat opted out of (though personally, I would've been ecstatic to run with Mark Allen for the microsecond I would've been able to hold the guy's pace).
The rest of our ride was fun and fast, apparently we were both still charged up from the energy of the company out there today. A few miles from the end I spot a guy up ahead and something inexplicable got into me ... I just HAD to pass him. It was one of those things where you know you can ... and you do. I took the poor guy down like he was a sick gazelle and never looked back (this is pretty unlike me, I simply don't care too much about other people out there). Maybe that's what happens when you breathe in air that's been filtered through the lungs of the likes of Mark Allen and Micheal Weiss? The meet-up location for the SAG vehicle is up ahead and I'm sad the ride is over so I get in a super easy gear and just spin all the way to the turn, drawing out the last few minutes as long as I can. As I'm making the turn and unclipping I see the guy I passed launch past me like a rocket and give me a disappointed sideways grimace. Pat comes up from behind, laughing her head off. She tells me watching that unfold was hilarious. The guy wasn't too upset when I passed him, but then SHE took off behind me and TWO girls passing him was apparently all he could take. He charged after Pat, caught her, and of course if I'd kept going straight he would have easily mowed me down too and never had to look back. It was purely a timing thing, obviously ... but holy cow, if only you could bottle up that feeling of blasting by someone .... it'd be priceless. If had that kind of skill I think I could easily become a total bum, live paycheck to paycheck and simply spend my days chasing down everyone in sight.
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Riding on the Queen K with lots and lots of company. |
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Somewhere out on the Queen K. Laughing as Pat wrestled with my complicated point-and-shoot camera. |
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A Memorial on the Queen K. |
On the way home, I stop off at the bike store near the pier ... because Macca was scheduled to be there doing a book signing. I know. A lot of people truly hate the guy. If you're one of them you seriously aught to read his book. I couldn't put it down and even someone with my less-than-average level of skill still got a ton out of it. For one he gives tons of tips that have already helped me (in just the time since I've read it I've already found opportunities to use a few of his ideas – and they worked!), and for two, it helped me in a myriad of ways just to understand how a guy his caliber actually thinks – and that it's often times not too far from how a peon like me thinks. You'd probably be surprised. Read the book. If you still think he's a pompous ass then fine, fair enough ... but at least give the guy a chance. I'd say I'd loan you my copy, but I won't ... because now it has a special personal message and autograph inside the front cover.
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Yep. I'm in awe. |
After meeting Macca I stumbled, somewhat dumbfounded, over to the expo. I ran into Chris Lieto's charity tent called 'More Than Sport'. It's a collection of three local groups that he has gotten together in order for the triathlon world to give back to the Kona community. Check it out. The next morning I got up and went for a run while Pat continued to enjoy her taper, then we headed to the MarkAllenOnline breakfast (we had to miss the annual Underpants Run for this, by the way – can't do everything). Tom and I got to join Pat and the other 20 or so MarkAllenOnline athletes (and their families) for a breakfast buffet while Mark Allen and Luis Vargas gave their talks. To hear these guys speak, much less in such an intimate setting, was just out of this world. As with much of this trip, I just sat there thinking 'I can't believe I'm here'. I met a guy named Rick wearing Newtons and when I asked how he liked them he explained in some detail the problems he's had with them, but that the new Newtons are 2oz lighter than than the old ones ... I explained that ounces really aren't something that matters one iota to someone like me, but we still talked for quite a while about shoes, and then about some obvious injuries he had (there were bandages). He had gotten blown off his bike going up to Hawi earlier in the day. Remember those rumble strips and the narrow section of road I mentioned earlier? Rick said he lost his concentration for a split second ... and went off the right side of the road. He still ended up taking 5th in his age group though – way to go! There was another guy at the breakfast who was also bandaged up, even worse (part of his face and chin was bandaged, and one arm) ... he had also gotten blown off the road. I don't know how he did in the race ... but I DID see him race morning and am guessing he did just fine.
Just like with Macca's book it's priceless to hear what the best of the best think (and even more useful to realize that it's not really all that much different from the rest of us). Mark talked about the Iron War with Dave Scott (I imagine he probably always does, because people will never stop wanting to hear about it) ... when he finally beat him he said at some point he KNEW he could win. Just knew. And in that same moment .... he also didn't know if he could take another step. 'I know I can win. I can't take another step,' he said a couple times, with both hands out and a look of confusion on his face. He went on to say you simply have to stop the part of your brain that 'assesses' – it wastes energy. Shut it off. And just race. He did ... and he won.
Some of his other tips included: Always keep your tanks topped off, take something with you to eat/drink as you're waiting 2 hours for the race to start – once your tanks are low you won't be able to catch back up. Line up in the water where you're comfortable and remember the golden rule of openwater swimming (I hoped I wasn't the only one thinking What?! There's a golden rule? Nobody ever told me there was a golden rule?!) ... which is: don't stop. Softswim at the start (just like softpedaling on a bike) – don't force it, let your legs drag and have it in your head what's going to happen when you get out of the water.
The bike, he says, doesn't start until mile 70. Before then it should just feel like a hard training day. It's really easy to go too hard on the first 40K. Keep your cadence up in the wind. It might feel silly, but do it anyway. Lean into the wind and try (try!) to relax. Lighter people will have a tougher time, but don't let it freak you out and make you lose confidence.
As for the run, he said he's raced ironman 12 times ... and not once did he get off the bike and think he could run a marathon. It was always 'How the hell am I going to do that?' (makes you feel better, doesn't it?). Of course he also says it's really just a hard training day until 10miles from the finishline ... and once you get there to 'let it go'. (Right. Got it.)
There was a quick point about coke. He says it will bring you out of a tough spot stomach-wise (something Macca concurs with in his book ... a tip another competitor actually hollered back to him during a race when he was really hurting) ... but that once you start with the coke, stay with it.
He ends with some thoughts on the mental stuff. You're out there trying to do something you've never done before (whether it's your first ironman, or a PR, whatever). It's not going to be easy. Drawing back and regrouping for a second is NOT the same thing as giving up. And again, thinking takes a lot of energy. A LOT. Be quiet. If you need to, make little deals with yourself: 'I'll drop out at the next aid station' ... and then make another deal with yourself once you get there. And another. And another. I figure if it's ok for this guy to be out there making these deals then it's sure as hell gotta be ok for me! Phew.
The breakfast ended with Luis talking about his personal race plan (he got injured in the Vegas 70.3 a few weeks ago, and already knew he'd be walking most of the run). You could tell he was struggling to deal with his injury and his own disappointment – yet again, it's nice to know the big guys feel this way when they're injured too. The sport doesn't seem to play favorites nearly as much as my brain convinced me it did ... it's really not any easier for anyone else out there. Sure, skill levels and genetic makeups vary ... and so does everyone's ability to hide their pain and push themselves ... but it's really not all that different afterall. Good to know.
The rest of the day was spent playing on lava rocks and snooping in tide pools. A large (the size of a dinner plate! Pat is my witness ... sidenote: I may have been hungry at the time) and very healthy jet black crab skittered around the rocks, nearly knocking me off and undoubtedly making me scream like the girl that I am (for one it was in stealth mode and blended right into the rocks, and then, once I scared it as bad as it scared me, the thing's giant creepy legs clicked like metal on the lavarock ... it got even creepier when it skittered out to the farthest point and I watched wave after wave crash down on it and STILL somehow the thing resisted being swept away!? I'm sure I could glean some great wisdom about perseverance from this but I was far too creeped out to think about it right then ... and I might still be too creeped out to think about it now.)
We got cleaned up, collected Tom, and headed down to the opening ceremony dinner. It was pretty cool all around but the thing I remember most was the presentation that I've seen a dozen times online ... you know? ... the one that ends with 'You. Will. Do. This.' It was perfect for the 1800 athletes sitting there just a few days before race day ... and not at all un-perfect for the handful of us that were sitting there half-wondering 'Will *I* ever do this?'.
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Pat and Tom at the welcome dinner. |
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From the big production before the welcome dinner. Guys playing with fire. Hula dancers. Everything you'd expect in Hawaii. |
Friday, the day before race day Pat and I did an easy run, and then headed out for an easy ride. Well, after a short delay. I pumped my tires, but while Pat was pumping hers the stem on her front tube busted (it actually just twisted apart, we just didn't know it at the time. We were able to fix the tube later. Live and learn). While a little alarming, it was also a pretty perfect opportunity for one last (really last!) attempt for her to learn how to change her own tire. No, she didn't exactly call it an 'opportunity' - that was me - she called it a few other (more colorful) things ... but after a short discussion and maybe just a little goading and some subtle brainwashing, she agreed. I sat down in a nearby chair with my hands pinned under my legs and told her I'd answer any questions but would NOT touch the tire (how's that for tough love?). It was a little rough, but I'm happy to report that she got through it absolutely fine and can never again say 'I can't change a flat'. Nice job, Pat! (While she'd end up having an 'eventful' ride on race day, let it be know that it was NOT because of a tire that she couldn't change herself! More on that later). Oh, and we DID get out for our ride after that. Pat got her bike and gear all packed up and we headed down to check-in. Bike check-in at Kona is like nothing I've ever seen. It's an event in and of itself. First, there are hundreds of people lurking about looking at your bike as you roll it up. What are they looking at, you ask? EVERYTHING. These folks are all from various sponsors and vendors – all charged with looking for 'THEIR' gear. Two fairly big guys start circling us and taking pictures of the front of Pat's bike. Not only do they work for TorHans (the brand of aero bottle that Pat has on her bike) ... but they were, in fact, Tor and Hans. As she continues to walk a lady asks her her shirt size. Somewhat baffled she says 'Um. Small?'. And a cute pink Cervelo shirt appears – just a little bonus from Cervelo for anyone riding their bikes. And so it went. She went on into transition while I hung around outside watching the parade. I have to admit even I was mesmerized by the bikes being rolled in (now that I clearly need a tri bike, you see). I also ran into an entire row of folks sitting in chairs with legal pads counting ... well ... from what I could tell, pretty much anything that could be counted. I heard one guy say 'That's two' (there were 2 bikes without aero bars so far - I doubt there were many more after that). I saw lists of bike types, wheels, components, and some things I hadn't even heard of. It's one thing to hear about this being done, or to see a headline that says 'Cervelo still the favorite at Kona' ... but to actually see it was something else.
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The bikes rolling into check-in. |
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Still rolling in ... |
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Only saw one of these. |
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From what I saw, Cervelo was winning the day by far. |
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Counting what looks like various configurations. |
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Wheels, wheels and more wheels. |
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Counting bikes .... and, I think, helmets. |
After lunch Pat and Tom relaxed at the condo and I went back out on my bike. I found another beautiful road that wound back and forth down through some lava hills and dead-ended at the ocean. I stopped and talked to a runner who told me this hill used to be the killer hill on a Kona qualifier race that no longer is held. My first time back up this road I heard and saw flashes of several not-so-small animals that I first thought were warthogs (those things have tusks and charge people, you know?) ... then armadillos (Hawaiian armadillos. Yeah, I know. A mind can go horribly awry trying to reason things out sometimes) ... and was finally told by two locals that they were mountain goats (once they came out of the bushes this was far more obvious, and I'm sure would've been my next guess). The locals, who were picnicking on the side of one of the hills about 5 feet from the aforementioned goat-filled bushes, assured me they were nothing to worry about and that they were actually just playing (there were about a dozen of them charging each other and running around in big circles together making their mountain goat noises – I had to admit, it sure seemed an awful lot like playing). I hung out with the goats, going up and down the road, for quite a while. It was simply fun.
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A piece of the fun, winding, goat-laden road. |
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Of course it's obvious they're goats NOW. |
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