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I
recall reading a short story, a Chinese fable if I'm not mistaken,
years ago about a village elder's son who experienced a chain of
events that had the initial appearance of misfortune. Anyhow,
if I recall correctly, at a later point in the story, the son broke
his arm. Soon after, the army appeared in the village and
forced all able bodied young men off to war where they subsequently
died. The temporarily disabled son was spared this fate and
ended up healing and then living a prosperous life. Obviously,
the moral of this story is that events that initially appear
disastrous may actually be a blessing in disguise.
I consider
the tibial stress fracture I obtained in June to be such a case.
Why? Because it took away all of the pressure I would have
placed upon myself to perform well at Ironman Hawaii. And,
people usually don't do very well at IMH when it's their first
ironman distance race, right?
Anyhow, fate
was such that I wasn't able to begin running until about two weeks
before race week. Therefore, I was forced to lower
expectations. I went to Hawaii with a simple plan. That
plan entailed nothing more than participating and finishing with a
smile on my face (before sunset). I was going to enjoy the
day, observe the sights, and smell the roses, so to speak.
And, that is what I did. Below is a short summary of how
things went.
Swim:
.jpg) The
swim was insane. I erred by entering the water relatively
late. That is a mistake when 1,800 people are corralled like
cattle for a mass start. I ended up treading water about 4-5
meters behind a thick wall of bodies fighting for the imaginary
front line. When the gun went off, there wasn't a speck
of clear water in sight. It took 20 minutes to reach the point
where I could actually swim a relatively normal stroke. (I'm
sure 1,000 others were in the same predicament.) At that
point, I moved to the outside and swam somewhat peacefully the rest
of the way. Unfortunately, I never caught a draft and had to
swim it alone.
Bike:
I took my
time in T1 and made ample use of the freshwater hoses that were
supplied to rinse off the salt water. I grabbed my camelback
containing frozen water and two frozen bottles of Sustained Energy
and went on my merry way. Forgot to put sunscreen on my back
as I ran out of the changing tent. Major mistake as today I
look like a Hiroshima burn victim. Unfortunately, the water in
my camelback melted almost immediately and tasted nasty. But
isn't that expected when you haven't properly washed something that
hasn't been used for over three years? The Sustained
Energy bottles melted by mile 40 and tasted like crud, too.
But I still forced it down like a kid eating brussell sprouts.
.jpg) The
first 30 miles on the bike was irksome. Hoards of draft packs.
I did my very best to avoid them, but it was difficult. As
soon as one guy passed, I'd drop back as USAT rules require.
But, there'd be twenty guys on his wheel. So, I'd sit up and
wait until they all went by. Invariably, a few would
inexplicably slow down. Then, I'd pull out and pass them.
But, I'd have to pass the whole bunch. I'd ride hard to get
away, put a 40 meter gap on the group. But, there they'd come
again. I realized I could never get into a tempo rhythm riding
this way. And, I was going anaerobic during the extrication
attempts. Finally, I said 'To ^$& it' and put the blinders
on. For the remaining 82 miles, I rode easy, aerobic and
within myself. It was a true exercise in restraint because I
am not accustomed to being frequently passed on the bike and I got
passed by what seemed like hundreds of guys and gals. In my
opinion, there were too few drafting penalties awarded.
Run:
.jpg) Got
into T2 feeling ok. My hydration and nutrition on the bike
went well. No bonkish feelings. I had had to pee early
in the bike but, unlike my friend Tom Russell, I just can't pee on
myself. So, I waited until the run. Headed out of the
changing tent at a nice plod and hit the first portajohn I could
find - not before I stopped and kissed Donna on the side of the
road. My run plan was simple. Plod along at a 4 hr pace
and eat/drink at every aid station. And that is what I did.
I usually walked the aid stations. Ended up having to eat the
Gu that was supplied instead of the Hammergel in my fuel belt.
Why? Because the damn fuel belt bottles suck. That's
why. Even though I watered the Hammergel down, it would have
required a friggin' vise to squeeze the stuff out. So, I'm
running with 5 pounds around my waist for nothing. That's what
you get for trying something new on race day. Anyhow, I
plodded peacefully. I never felt real pain and suffering.
Just cruised along at a pace I could maintain without agony.
That was nice. When the finish chute neared, I was able to
pick it up a notch - perhaps an 8 minute/mile or so - and cruise
through with a smile. Yes, I ached afterwards. And, yes
it was hard to walk. But, I didn't crumble or have to visit
the med tent. I can't say I'm happy with my placing or time.
And, I can't hide from it. Truth be known, it's gonna be hard
to tell people I finished 497th. Which is why I'm going to do
this race again. Only next time, I'll be racing it.
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