My decision to add a third Ironman to my season was a last-minute one. Racing in Kona is always a privilege, and it offered another opportunity to practice a new nutrition plan and to implement some new mental techniques I had been working on. I was excited to be back in Hawaii, and had no expectations other than to have a great time. It was a celebration of my hard work, and a chance to race with the best of the best from around the world.
The week prior to the race lived up to its reputation, as the town of Kailua-Kona was overtaken by an international cadre of fitness fanatics. The coffee shops, highways, bike stores and supermarkets buzzed with triathletes preparing for the big day. The high energy of my co-athletes didn’t faze me at all—I was inspired by the experience and interaction. I found myself feeling quite relaxed all week. Perhaps a few fleeting moments of panic and anxiety seeped into my subconscious but they were quickly tamed by empowering thoughts and positive imagery. When I decided to attend the Welcome Ceremony the Thursday before the race, I knew I was in a relaxed frame of mind. Usually, I wouldn’t go near a jam-packed event right before a race, especially one characterized by long speeches and a skimpy supply of food. I was motivated to engage with others since I had both my mom and my two good friends, Alyssa and Scott, on the island with me, there to watch the race unfold.
My alarm was set for 4:00 a.m. on race morning. It felt early but I was up. From our less than luxurious condo, I could hear the ocean crashing on the lava rocks. The sky was clear black with stars shining brightly. Perhaps this was a sign of a blue sky day despite there being late afternoon cloud cover all week. Race anxiety was brewing inside but I knew the feeling was normal and I found calmness in thinking strong positive thoughts, walking tall and deciding that no matter what the day presented, I was going to smile and welcome the pain and effort.
As I looked around at the athletes surrounding me, the influence of technology and aerodynamics could be spotted everywhere, with both pros and amateurs. The vast majority of the competitors sported the newest speed swimsuits, aero helmets, deep-dish race wheels, lightweight running shoes and compression socks. Amazingly enough, Chrissie Wellington, who ended up winning the women’s race, wore her regular old “open vent” training helmet as she out-split the entire female field. Her “come out of nowhere” win was likely the biggest surprise of the day.
But back to the start line. My arms were numbered, my tires were pumped, my mom was hugged, my chip was on my right ankle and my goggles were sealed to my eye sockets. I didn’t see Alyssa and Scott before the start but I knew they were out there watching the start of this prestigious event. Alyssa, being my swim partner, was surely sending me energy for a speedy swim start. With a few minutes to start, the announcer informed the field that the legendary surfer, Laird Hamilton, would lead the swim start for the professional athletes. What a treat!
The swim start was explosive as always. I stayed in with a big pack until halfway to the turnaround. When I lost contact, I settled in with a smaller pack, which felt a bit slow but it was worth saving energy for the day. My mind was focused on a smooth and strong pull while sighting every third breath. The swells were alive and churning for the swim. Being one to have a sensitive internal system, I was feeling a bit woozy towards the end of the swim. No matter, I told myself, I would give this feeling no energy and would instead focus on having a great day. All my motions were deliberate through transition and on to the bike.
As we all headed out on to the famous Queen’s K Highway for 56 miles of lava fields, the sun unleashed its ferocious heat. I started on my nutrition plan within 20 minutes of getting on the bike. My first sip is always an indication of how my body is feeling. If my body can accept the liquid, I am in good shape for the day. If it revolts at the thought of a swig, there might be tough times ahead. On the bike, my body hovered between accepting and refusing my fuel. In any given moment, I did what I could to feel strong and powerful yet I knew that with the salt caking around my cheeks, I could have benefited from increasing my salt by a few hundred milligrams per hour. This is an awesome example of why I go back to the challenge. I love to experiment, and to strive for that perfect balance that will bring out the best performance.
The bike ride is rarely lonely since the age group men charge past you in a peloton, tempting a penalty. It seems an impossible situation for the referees when sixty men are clumped together along a straight line of highway. For the female pros, we must always back down if we want to avoid a four-minute stop.
The heat was at an all-time high during our stretch home. Even though I didn’t have my game legs attached to my body, I kept smiling and waving and devouring the experience. The crowds of people in town are so welcoming and proud of each of us, from the first to the last. Prior to my final turn down Makala Road towards T2, I spotted Chris Lieto, in a universe of his own, running down the highway in first place. Not another soul was in sight. I was sure he had it in the bag. Lieto is one of the strongest bikers on the triathlon scene. He won Ironman Canada in 2005, the same year I was third. I admire his talent since he has endured painful injuries and upsets over the course of his career.
The best thing about the bike-to-run transition is the cold towel the volunteers drape over your shoulders prior to sending you off on the run. It’s like a gift from heaven that brings you back to life. I was actually looking forward to the marathon, happy to be upright and testing out my new Zoot runners. I had two flasks in hand: one with water and one with Accelerade in it. The water went down but the Accelerade was nowhere near my mouth. If it wasn’t for the cheering spectators, home-made signs of encouragement and my enduring spirit, I may have packed it in, since my goal was to enjoy the day. The 8-mile stretch out along Alii Drive and back is humid, flat and crowded with people. At mile 4, I knew my energy was running low so I was going to have to start on the Coca-Cola 18 miles sooner than I had anticipated. After chugging 4 ounces of Coke, I felt like I was plugged back in, but the socket wouldn’t hold tight, and my pace soon slowed to a crawl. As I headed up Palani Road, my mom was cheering loudly, but instead of acknowledging her, I turned to the aid station and asked for more Coke. She knew my nutrition plan and thought this may not have been a good sign. Nonetheless, I stuck to my promise of smiling and waving, despite being in survival mode.
At mile 18, my body had finally had enough. I was no longer willing to use sponges or ice water to cool my body down, since it was feeling chilled, even in the 90-degree weather. Others were suffering as well, and all the men that had sped past me on the bike were now starting to walk. The highway portion of the run is also where we get some race scoop. I heard that Chris McCormick won the men’s race, having made up a big deficit from the bike, that Norman Stadler dropped out because he was throwing up on the bike (or maybe he heard there would be drug testing), that Natascha Badmann rode into a pylon and crashed, that Michellie Jones withdrew due to a blown ear drum, and that pros were dropping like flies. Each Ironman has a lesson to teach even the most experienced racer.
At mile 22, I traded places with Desiree Ficker (who placed second last year). I thought about running with her just to have some company. Instead, I quipped, “Just think, we could still be on the bike.” With one mile to go in the World Ironman Championships, I spotted my mom on the sidelines, cheering for my final journey home. I tossed her my Zoot visor, since after 25 miles my forehead needed some breathing space. This gave her just enough time to bolt down the block to see my smiling face at the finish line. After the volunteers walked me to through the finish line chute, I found my mom waiting for me just inside the spectators’ holding bin. We hugged, laughed and reminisced about the day. For my mom, the craziest part was just how happy I was despite her knowing it was not the outcome we had hoped for. She admitted this to me only the day after the race.
The finish line is like the walkway to heaven. And this year, it lived up to my expectations: plush, bright, deafening, surreal, satisfying, addicting and empowering. My arms went up, my face was flush with relief and my heart was full of appreciation for the support from strangers and loved ones. Of course, I wanted to have the outcome I know I am capable of but on this day, it didn’t matter. I got so much more out of the experience than I could have even anticipated and it came from the never-ending smile on my face, that stayed there throughout the trials of the day.
Congratulations to Britni Bakk, who placed first in her age division and secured a spot to Kona for 2008. And to Tara Norton, who was in 10th place for most of the day until she lost two spots within the final few miles. Thank you to Alyssa and Scott for cheering all day (they stayed until midnight and claim the race really only gets going after 12 hours, when a party takes place on the finish line carpet). And to Warren for making me feel like he was as much there to cheer for me as for his own wife. For those of you who read my reports on a regular basis, you’ll notice that my mom rarely misses an Ironman. She is my ultimate encouragement and pillar of unwavering strength and without her, the day would never be the same.
You’ll catch me at yoga and movies for the next short while. And since I had so much fun in Kona, I am all the more excited for next year!
Mahalo!
Christine
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