In terms of the race itself,  I equate my trip here to that of a Serbian swimmer or a Cuban marathon runner in the Olympics. It’s awesome to be on the world’s greatest stage, but I have absolutely no hope of really competing for a podium, so this is more of a participation day of sorts. This is a race full of studs, so when you swim once a week and bike once or twice a week, it’s not realistic to think you’re going to show up and kick butt.  Anyway, onto race day…

got up at 4:30 am after being awake since 2am, choked down two hard boiled eggs and packed up my special needs bags. Rip, Steve and I walked down to body marking, etc. I noticed that it was the first time since we had been there that we could see the top of the mountain.  Cool to see, but not a good sign. I thought right then that the cool, cloud covered days we’ve had were not happening today. Kona was gonna deliver some conditions it’s famous for.

I laid low and stretched while the pros got in and started. Once the pros took off they let us in the water and I got in rather quickly. I I wanted to get a good warm up and a good position. I looked it up the day before and saw that the tide was to be coming out during the start, so I lined up further away from the pier than I have in previous years. As the start came closer and closer the crowds grew and the fighting for position became more intense. My experience has been that Kona is the worst for this kind of stuff. With no first timers, you get all the aggressive types in one body of water. With a few minutes to go I’m stiff arming one person while my back is pressed firmly up against another and my leg is kicking/bumping a third to keep from getting squeezed out. This year I even had people yelling at each other  (One especially pleasant fellow told me that I was “really fu*king annoying” ). Unpleasant is an understatement. Violent would be more appropriate. I know that most of these people aren’t going to be my problem when the gun goes off, but it’s hard to convince them of that. It can be a high stress situation. The gun finally goes off and I hit the gas. I took about 6 strokes to get clear of the fighting, and then another 50 yards or so to have some open space.

15 seconds after the canon

Then I wind it down a notch about every 5 strokes until I’m in my pace. My burst got me the lead. As we swam, on my right, or from me to the pier-side of the course, there were some fast swimmers about a body-length back. on my left side, there were 2 guys that had come around and passed me. I hit the gas again to get on their feet. The pace was really brisk for a while. After a number of minutes I saw the group that had formed from their move and decided to settle into a more comfortable pace on some feet next to me. In a matter of a few more minutes, the pace of the group slowed considerably. I guessed the guys on the front had either gotten away or settled down. From this point, it was a steady, mostly comfortable swim with the exception of the waves. Seemed a bit rough. Additionally, there were a bunch of boats out in the area, and when a boat would decide to move to another location, they would hit the gas and create some huge waves for us. Throws you off balance because you get into a rhythm with the ocean and then get clobbered by a bunch of rogue boat waves. I sat towards the back of our group and noticed that we had a nice gap on the next group. Coming into the pier I looked ahead and could see that our group stayed together and didn’t spread out. So I would be within 30 seconds or so of the lead of the race  (give or take ).  (In looking in the results later I believe 1 person gapped a few seconds on us and got out solo ). Got to the stairs and felt great. 12th out of the water  (the results that show 48th include the pros and the dnf’s) with a time that confirmed to me that it was a little tougher than normal.

The ride from the pier up to the hot corner is fantastic. Just enormous crowds. Then there’s the little 5 mile circuit through Kona that is mostly uphill. It’s sort of unsettling because it makes it hard to get into a pace and lower your heart rate. At the turnaround at the top of the climb just south of town you can see all the way down to the ocean and the swim course. I could see people rounding the turn out there  (man, that swim looks realllllly long from up there ). Got out onto the Queen K in 22nd place overall and headed north with a very slight tailwind. It was here that I could settle in on a pace. This is also the part of my day that starts to wear on my mind if I let it. See, as a good swimmer and a mediocre biker  (that’s what you get when you ride 1 or 2 times a week ) in Kona, I get it absolutely handed to me out here. It’s a constant stream of bikes blowing by. By local Texas standards I’m pretty good at riding, but today there were 200 age groupers under 5 hours on the bike. So here in Kona, I feel like the fat kid riding slow. As the ride progresses the packs begin to come by. It’s pretty easy to pick out those who are trying to ride clean and those that don’t give a damn. The race marshals were doing the best they could nabbing people, but some of the packs are huge. the Queen K has almost no flat spots, but the hills are all of the big ring variety, so there’s nothing overly challenging to climb. I took the left off of the Queen to 270, and after a very brisk downhill, you begin the climb to Hawi. I had been feeling ok up until this point but not great. Once the climb started though, I really started feeling my cycling legs. I was still getting passed, but not nearly as much, and actually started passing some of the bigger cyclists who started suffering on the climb and those who went out too hard. While the entire course would be considered windy, this section is where the legendary winds show up.  (A few days earlier I was registering next to an athlete who was racing here for the first time. She told me how she drove out to this section to ride and the wind almost blew her off the road. She immediately got off the bike and told her family she wasn’t racing. They convinced her to try it again, and it wasn’t until she relaxed a bit in this wind that she thought she could even do the bike. )I felt great during the climb. got to the turn and passed on my special needs. I still had plenty of calories on me so it wasn’t worth the stop. This is where the descent begins, and with the crosswinds the way they were, there were some hairy sections. Once I got over 40 mph I really focused of the athletes in front of me. I could see when and athlete got blown sideways and had to stabilize so as not to crash, and that would tell me where the crosswind gusts where hitting. With the exception of a few sketchy moments, the descent was uneventful. Well almost. Towards the bottom of the descent I got passed by a rider like I had a few hundred times before. We were going just over 30 mph into a turn/bank to the left that immediately becomes a nasty little climb to get back onto the Queen K. Those who’ve raced here know exactly where I’m talking about as it’s probably the second steepest hill next to Palani. Anyway, this guy passes me right as we turn left and he then sits up and coasts. I was trying to get a drink and didn’t pay real close attention to him, but then realized I am closing in on this guy and am not yet clear of the draft zone, so I sit up and coast. Wasn’t doing any good though as we slow to about 9mph, and I heard a motorcyle pull up behind me. The only way I could get clear in enough time was to hit brakes and come to a stop, so I just figured the marshall would see the situation and understand the circumstances. I was wrong. So the marshall pulls up next to me and and nabs me for drafting at 9mph. ARE YOU KIDDING ME!! At first I was furious, then I calmed down a bit and accepted my fate. I know they are there for good reason, and, by the letter of the law it did take me too long to get clear. Whatever. Not going to let it ruin my day, and I know that I race clean. So I got to the penalty tent a few miles down the road and served my time. I remember seeing Paula Newby-Fraser and other pros serve time in the penalty tent and mentioning that it was a plus because it gave you a little time to focus on hydration and fueling. So the second I got there, I got off the bike, started stretching, eating and drinking. I had really hoped that I would feel like a new man after that, but it ended up not helping at all.

Came out of T2 and started running up Palani. After a few hundred yards and you turn right off Palani, I could feel the running legs showing up. I was able to settle into my pace pretty quick with the help of my heart rate monitor. Ran past my hotel and all my friends just before mile 1 and got a huge burst of energy. Boy Oh boy does support help. As I ran down Alii I could see the women’s race unfold. Was surprised that Chrissie was not leading. At the top of the hill around mile 1 I saw Dibens laying on the road looking like death warmed over. Seeing the ambulance screaming her way told me my assessment was right. Clicked the first mile off at 7:34 and felt pretty comfortable, though the heat was wearing on me in a hurry. I began my own little heat management process immediately. Ice in the crotch, ice down the shirt, hold ice in both hands and swallow as much ice as I could muster. Everything stayed steady through Alii and mile 10 when I saw my friends again, and then headed out to the famous lava fields. At Palani hill, I knew I was going to walk, because that thing is flat out steep. It cost me an extra 4 minutes, but I didn’t care. That hill is a dream killer.
Out on the Queen K I again felt pretty good. And this literally  put a smile on my face because this is where the wheels have come off before. Was I actually going to have a good day here? Nahhh. Something is bound to go wrong. This section is typically where the head can be the worst, but I’m telling you right now that I think God was looking out for me, because some clouds moved in for the next 6 miles to the energy lab. This is also a great section to be a fan, because you can see the pro’s race playing out. Chrissie ran by with Rinny not far behind at all. Also got to see some of the pro men who didn’t have a banner day like Lieto. Took the left into the energy lab and still felt surprising solid. Was even passing chunks of people. In previous trips, the energy lab has been a spot where problems have cropped up, but this time not so much. The only issue I was starting to have was a little light-headedness if my heart rate climbed too high. This meant that I had to walk-run the hill out of the energy lab so as not to lose it. This persisted all the way back to town. Plenty of energy in the legs, well hydrated, yet light-headed on the uphill. Something I need to figure out and work on. Saw my good friend Kim Hager around mile 24  (she was on her way out ) and then saw an old high school friend  (Tiffany Hirtle Lindsey )shortly after. Seeing Tiffany was a big energy boost as I realized that this race was in the books and I was still having a good day. Made the turn down Palani Hill and then the left onto Kuakini.5 Five years ago it was this spot where I stopped and essentially dropped down to my knees, thinking I wasn’t going to be able to make another step. I stared at that spot as I ran by. Boy, what a difference this year was from year’s past. Made the turn towards Alii and saw my friends Rip and Steven again. Finally, FINALLY I was going to get to see what everyone talks about with this finish. It struck me as odd at first with so many people (sounds crazy I know), then it got a bit emotional. I soaked up the finish like it was my last Kona finish ever. You never know, it might just be…

Got a volunteer to walk with me to the food and massage.I was very dizzy. Had some chicken broth and some pizza. Got a massage, photos and picked up my gear. Went home, cleaned up and went out to eat a big fat burger and a beer at the Kona Canoe Club that sits on the water over looking the bay and the finish line. Then went back to see the last finishers at midnight. It was a great day that I’ll not soon forget. And finally, a good day to visit the Queen.                                                                                                                                                                                            

I should probably back up a few weeks and provide a little lead up to race day first. This was a year that I was able to hit a lot of big races and truly get to race like a pro. Big races, big destinations and huge training days. Great fun. About 5 weeks before Ironman, I had a race in Nansei, Japan. Went out there with a few other Americans (Garrett McCarthy and Becky (Gibbs) Lavelle to name a couple), along with some others from around the world. They put us up in pairs and my roomate was New Zealander Cameron Brown. Lots of great stories came from that week, but that’s another day. I had a rough day on a rough course and finished 7th overall. I was in the middle of my Ironman build and was trying to get my iron levels back to normal after a summer at altitude, so I wasn’t happy, but satisfied considering.

Back in Texas, training was pretty intense for me. I was basically doing a 1/2 Ironman every day of the week, and then hit a long run and ride on the weekend on top of that.  350 miles a week riding and 60 running was getting logged, along with swimming under Eddie Reese and the University of Texas men’s team a few days a week (nothing humbles you quicker than swimming repeat 500′s, holding 5min or under and worrying about getting lapped). I didn’t fully know what to expect with Kona, but knew that if I had any hope of playing along, I needed to hit some big volume. It was about as much as my 23 year old body could handle, and as it turned out, maybe a little too much. On too Kona…

Got up at 4:40am. Had 2 Ensure type drinks, a banana and a powerbar for breakfast. Emmanuel Millet, of one of my sponsors,  Aquaman Wetsuits, picked me up and took me to the start. Waited my turn to get marked and pump up the tires, then waited again to hit the port-a-potty. Ran out of time to get a run warmup, so I ran in place for a few minutes to get the blood pumping. Then it was time. So I got in and warmed up in the water.

Then the strangest thing happened. Everyone is trained in this sport to the air horn. Typical start for any race around. Ironman uses a cannon, but for some reason decided to use the air horn as the 5 minute warning. I think you know where this is going. For the first and only time in Ironman history, there was a false start. The horn went off and I nailed that start, broke free of all the pros and began gapping immediately. 150 yards later a wall of lifeguards stopped us. Bummer. So they backed up 1500 athletes and got them positioned again. The cannon sounds and I jump to the lead again, but this time some of the steam was gone and got a group right on my feet. I lead out to the turn with Wolfgang Ditrich right on my heels. On the way back I figured someone else should take a turn and Wolfgang moved up. As we approached the finish I could sense the excitement in our group of 4 and felt the pace quicken bit by bit. I knew that first out usually got big camera time and I wasn’t really interested. I wanted an even race. So I let them sprint to the dock and came out 4th in 49:39

Ran through transition and passed 2 in the tent. Only Wolfgang was in front of my now.  Rolled up Palani Hill, the enormous crowds and out on the Queen K (Slightly different course back then). Settled into my pace in 2nd place on the road. Sitting out there I had the company of 2 helicopters, and various press vehicles zooming by. Around 50 minutes into the ride, the first pack of contenders rolled by that contained Tim and Tony Deboom. Shortly after came all the big names. Jurgen Zack, Lothar Leder, (eventual winner) Thomas Hellriegel, Peter Reid, Christian Bustos, Cameron Widoff, Ken Glah and a couple of others. (note: looking back, this was one of those moments in your life that you look back on and smile.) I rode with the clan for a while and remembering thinking how the pace was not that bad. Out of my range for 112 at the time, but definitely attainable. Then the day started to turn it’s twisted turn for me. I began getting cramps in my left hamstring. Not that intense, but something that I needed to pay attention to. So I eased off a bit and kept stretching it out. Playing this stretch then pedal game spit me off the back of the group and there was now only 1 other rider with me. Lothar Leder. We rode in proximity of each other up the climb and headwind out to Hawi. At the turn in Hawi I somehow missed my special needs bag, which meant I had to improvise the rest of the ride and live off the aid stations. It pissed me off at the time, but it was a great lesson to learn.

We had a nice tailwind coming down from Hawi, but when we got back to the Queen K, it became a stiff headwind of 30 mph all the way home. This is where my next problems showed up. The bottom of my right foot began cramping pretty intensely and there was noway for me to stretch it (no, getting off my bike and taking off my shoe was not an option). Additionally, the course drink by MetRx was not sitting well with me. Felt completely bloated, so I switched to Coke. As the ride wore on, the foot was getting worse. The cramp had now spread and climbed midway up my calf. The pain was getting beyond intense and the horrible wind didn’t help. I clocked 12mph on a downhill in one of the nastier stretches. Just outside Kona I was about at my breaking point and actually began to cry briefly. Thankfully I arrived in town shortly after and was protected from the wind. T2 was about 8 miles south of the swim back then, so I still had a ways to go, but was happy to see faces. A good friend and fellow pro at the time, Tim Watson rolled up next to me about this point. We exchanged a few words and rode to T2 together.

I got off my bike and had trouble putting weight on my foot. One of the volunteers rubbed my foot while I changed and headed out with Tim (No idea of transition times as back then they were both added to your bike time). Steep climb out of T2 and then in and out of the “pit”. As I ran I felt better but never great. Pace dropped into the 7:20′s and then slowly crept upwards. 1:41 at the half, and began catching some of those who dropped me on the bike. Shortly after 13, I started running into problems again and the pace jumped about 1 min per mile. Held onto this pace until around mile 20 when the bottom just fell out. Pace jumped to well over 12 minute miles. Started stopping at every aid station and legs began stiffening. Started asking for potato chips at aid stations and people were digging through their personal belongings to get me some. Then I began peeing every other mile or so. Final miles were in a blurr. Very little memory of the run back into town to the finish. I crossed the line and walked over to my parents. We went over to the food and I began to try to eat. While talking to them I began to lose my vision. Everything was going blurry and I went from feeling bad to feeling like death. Some doctors came over and carried me into the med tent. Began to feel very cold and temperature began to drop. I overheard the doctors say that I was going into shock and then heard one yell at me to stop letting my eyes roll back in my head. Then every movement caused cramping. Even my jaw cramped. 3 I.V.’s and a shot of magnesium (for the cramping) and I came out of it. Bottom line: my sodium levels dropped too low and hyponatremia kicked in. I crept to the car and headed to the hotel, with my tail firmly between my legs.

It was one of the worst experiences and best experiences I’ve ever been through. I decided that night that I would never attempt another Ironman again. It just wasn’t my bag. Olympic and 1/2 Ironman were more my thing.

Then I got on the plane to head home and noticed that if I had just changed my nutrition like this and adjusted my training like that, then maybe I could…..

And that my friends, is how addictions begin.

Jump forward to 1994.  I was swimming at Clemson University but decided to race the Buffalo Springs Lake Triathlon in Lubbock over the summer. My preparation time was short because of swim obligations but very dedicated once those ended(I mean come on, I’m IN COLLEGE. Not like free time was scarce.) That race turned out to be one of the hottest race days on record (108 degrees). I was able to race a 4:29 and picked up a slot to Kona. Only problem was, I was on scholarship and they would have none of it. Hawaii would just have to wait.

In 1997, I was in my second season as a pro, and I actually qualified for Kona twice that season. FINALLY! It was time to meet the queen, who I’d been obsessing over for a decade now. And I would be ready. Afterall, I had no ‘real’ job. I trained all day. Unfortunately though, that turned out to be one of the problems. I was training like a fool at altitude and by late August, I was borderline anemic. Throw in a couple trips to the other side of the world to my diet and I was pooped. Nonetheless, with the help of Phil Maffetone, George Dallam (the US National Triathlon Team Coach at the time) and UT’s Eddie Reese, arguably the best swim coach that has ever stepped on the planet, I prepared for Kona they way a 23 year old should. LIKE CRAZY.

Face swelling during the run. Not my best look

I finally met her in October of ’97, and I’ll be honest, she was in a pissy mood. The 1997 Ironman has gone down as one of the toughest Kona races in history. From Ironman.com:

“Thomas Hellriegel leads a trifecta of Germans first across the finish line in race conditions that longtime Ironman competitor

Scott Tinley calls the toughest ever. Strong and steady headwinds averaging 30 mph slow the bike and cloudless skies with temperatures in the low 90s combine to produce the slowest finish times in a decade. The conditions set the stage for the biggest surprise victory in the history of the women’s race as Heather Fuhr of Canada, renowned for her ability to handle the heat, runs nearly 15 minutes faster than any of the top five women to claim her first Ironman title in 9:31:43.”

(http://ironman.com/mediacenter/history/ironman-triathlon-world-championship#axzz1ShcxRdim)

If memory serves there were only 11 men to break 5 hours on the bike, and the conditions caused names like Natasha Badmann, Paula Newby Fraser, Tony Deboom, Holly Nybo, etc. to drop out. This was also the year of Chris Legh collapsing 50 feet from the finish (ever see that Gatorade commercial?). You also had on the women’s side, the crawl for 5th place between Sian Welch and Wendy Ingram (Here).

Fun in the med tent

I finished that day. Barely. The cramping began around mile 25 for me on the bike. first in the the glutes and then in the feet.  I cried on the bike. Literally cried. The run started much better, but trouble began again around mile 13. Where was mile 13 in 1997 you ask? Well it was essentially the entry point to the Queen K. Yes, the Queen. I’ve discussed various aspects of that race here before, but to give you the quickie version, my body was shutting down. I finished that day in 10:23, but I don’t remember the last 3 miles very well. After crossing the line, I began losing my vision and started going into shock. After a few hours with the medical staff, I went home, tail firmly between my legs.

Fast forward to 2006. I had since left my pro career behind me and signed up for Ironman Arizona more to lose weight and get fit than anything. The race went well and I qualified again. It was time to see her again and make things right. This time was different though. My goal wasn’t to kick ass and take names, rather to enjoy the experience of Kona  and have a finish down Alii Drive that I could remember.

Day started well enough. I had an easy but relatively slow swim, and the first part of the bike was going great. I was enjoying my day. This was also the year of the Hawaiian earthquake 1 week before the race. No major damage in town but small sections of the bike course were closed because of damage. It also left tiny shards of lava rock on the course. Unfortunately for me, I was able to pick up a few in my tire, causing the first flat in my race history. Not a huge problem as time wasn’t the goal. Got fixed up and finished the bike in good spirits.

Then came the run. I still don’t really know what went wrong that day. Sometimes I think sun poisoning, sometimes overheating. Just not sure. But in the few miles running on the Queen K, I went from good to bad and bad to horrible. By mile 18 I could no longer run. Not a step. Not because I was tired, but because I felt so sick I thought I might pass out if I tried. Walking a straight line was a challenge at times. I did a lot of praying that day, and somehow I made it back into Kona. As I made the final turn to Alii Drive the skies opened up and it started to absolutely pour. Every spectator ran for shelter. I got to the last 100 yards and was greeted by the town bum. Yes, you read that right. The town drunk/vagrant/bum/hobo/homeless guy, whatever you want to call him, was there insisting he help me to the finish. So I finished the 2006 Hawaiian Ironman in a downpour, no one around, with a bum. Magical ain’t it?

I’m not real sure why it is, but I still can’t wait to see her. And THIS time, its going to be a great experience. 3rd times a charm right? I just hope the Queen is in a good mood.

Aloha.

Another bonus to this race was that I got to stay with an old friend/teammate from college and meet her family. It was great to catch up and meet her husband and little kiddo. It made the trip very enjoyable. Anyway, the race..

The race is point to point and they bus everyone from the finish in Boston to the start in Hopkinton. I’m not sure how it takes a bus on a highway an hour and a half to go 26 miles to the start, but I’m sure glad I used the restroom before we left. They drop you off in the ‘Athlete Village’ which is basically the school grounds near the start. They have a little food, a few announcements and a ton of port-a-cans. Most people seemed to be doing one of two things, either waiting in the longest port-a-can lines I’ve ever seen in my life, or sitting down trying to stay warm. For those who plan to do Boston, be aware there are no seats, so bring a blanket or something to sit on and you’ll be fine. After about an hour or so, it was time to head to the start. 

I lined up in corral #6. They have about 1,000 people per corral and it’s seeded by your qualifying time. I learned later that the time difference for my corral was about 2-3 minutes, So essentially, we all had the same time. The race starts and it takes a few minutes to get to the starting line, something I’ve never experienced before. Kinda a hurry up and wait sort of thing. We got running and it was shoulder to shoulder for about 4-5 miles. Saw lots of people peel off into the little sections of woods to pee. Since I didn’t know how populated the rest of the course was, I did the same so I wouldn’t be looking for a port-o-can later on. I also didn’t realize it at the time, but I tied my left shoe too tight. I had to stop twice to loosen it up. Not a big deal but an annoying interruption. Legs felt good early on. My strategy was to be ultra conservative until I got to the top of heartbreak hill. Then I was going to hit the afterburners and destroy the last 5 miles. The reality was that the downhills destroyed my legs over time, so by the time I got to Newton for the 4 hills, I was actually looking forward to an uphill. At the top of heartbreak hill my legs here pretty much finished. So I shuffled the last 5 miles into the finish. My time was about 12 minutes slower than my qualifying race, but I was pretty much expecting that.

 The real story though is the race itself. What an experience. I have never seen crowds so big for a race. There isn’t a spot on the course without crowds of some sort. I really tried to soak it up. Each town you ran into, the crowds tripled and the noise level was fantastic. The noisiest spot without question is Welsley College. I could here those girls screaming from a quarter mile away. They were all holding signs like ‘kiss me, I’m a senior’ or ‘free kisses’, etc. One of the runners next to me decided to take one of the more striking girls up on her offer. Instead of the typical peck though, this girl grabbed the runner and went to town! the guy stumbled off with a big smile. While it was great fun to watch, I decided not to partake. As I mentioned before, I was about 6,000 people back, so I wasn’t too jazzed about the thought of the hundreds of others this girl had already kissed. Not into sloppy 2nds, let alone sloppy 300ths. At the bottom of heartbreak hill, I decided to take a group up on their makeshift ‘beer aidstation’. Why not? Legs were shot, time was no longer an issue and beer tastes great. The last 3 miles entering town the crowds got progressively larger until the final left turn to the finish. There is about a half mile straight to the finish line and it is just solid people. Good fun. I finished and began to freeze my butt off. I figure the locals didn’t think anything of the cold, but I thought I was going to die. The walk to get my warm ups might have been tougher than the race itself with that cold air and strong wind.  My legs tightened up so much that it hurt to take every step. I spent the rest of the day walking around like a 98 year old man.

When it was all said and done I was very happy that I got to experience this event. I know there are many out there who try every year and still can’t qualify, so I feel blessed to knock it out on my first try. For those considering this race, I give it two big thumbs up. Will I go back? Hmmm. Not sure, but I doubt it. I didn’t grow up a runner, so I went to soak up the experience, mark it off my bucket list and move on. But who knows, maybe I’ll get the itch again someday.

The course is the stuff of legend. It’s a open water swim in the Pacific Ocean. The bike takes you north up the island across the lava fields and through some of the toughest winds anywhere, which have reached upwards of 60 mph and have blown people right off their bike. The run starts along the coast and then moves back out into the heat and isolation of the black lava fields. The suffering ends back where you started at Kailua Bay for the finish down Alii Drive.

This race was one of the main reasons that I got into this sport. Back in 1986 I had completed a couple of kids triathlons and was mildly interested in the sport until I saw the Nice Triathlon on TV followed by the Ironman the very next day. Watching those epic battles got me hooked, and from that point on the Hawaiian Ironman became a major motivation in my athletic life like so many others.

Getting into the race can be achieved in a few different ways. The vast majority of the 1800 athletes must qualify by a top placing in other races to get in. The organization leaves about 180 entries open to the “everyman” which are selected via a lottery system. Finally, a few entries are auctioned off via Ebay (with winning bids in the neighborhood of $50,000).

I have been priviledged enough to qualify 5 times and compete in this race twice. In fact, I’ve been one of the lucky ones who has actually led this race. The first time I made my way to Kona I did it as a professional athlete in 1997. I wasn’t the healthiest of athletes that day (the Olympic Training Center doctors told me I was borderline anemic), but being a good swimmer certainly has it’s moments. I took the lead in the swim shortly after the cannon went off. Sometime during the return trip from the turnaround boats I swapped places with German Wolfgang Dittrich and sat comfortably in second. With approximately 30 yards to go in the swim ,2 athletes came around us to try and grab a little camera time. So I finished 4th out of the water and hopped on the bike in second place behind Wolfgang.  Somewhere a ways down the road on the Queen K we were caught by the race favorites. I was dumped from the front end of the race shortly after the turn at Hawi as my cramping problems mounted. I ended the day not remembering the last 3 miles in a race that is regarded by the organizers as having one of the toughest conditions in Ironman history (This was the same year Chris Legh collapsed 50 feet from the finish and the famous crawl for 5th place between Sian Welch and Wendy Ingram).

So what’s it like to lead the Ironman? Verrrrry cool. And rest assured I was definitely thinking this during the race as I had a camera in my face and watched the helicopters right over my head.

I returned to the race in 2006. This time my motivation was to just enjoy the day. For whatever reason though, this race has got my number as I got a flat on the bike and suffered the last 10 miles of the run like I’ve never suffered before. One of these days I’m bound to have a good day there.

So does it measure up to all the hype? You bet. If you are looking to test your absolute limits on the biggest stage the sport of triathlon has to offer, then find a way to get yourself in Kailua Bay on the Saturday of the full moon in October.

“Oh you run marathons? Have you ever done the Boston Marathon?”

This year with the birth of my second child, I decided (wisely as my wife might add) to scale back the triathlon training and just do a little running (and swimming when I get the itch) and train for a marathon. So if one were to train for a marathon, what better marathon to set your sights on than Boston.

Boston is a race, like very few other marathons around the world, that you must qualify for in order to run. There are other ways in, like being a member of some secret runner society for umpteen years and get a waiver or be a major corporate sponsor. But for most of the world, you need to have run a marathon within the time standards that the Boston Athletic Association has set forth in order to toe the line. If you are so capable then you have 18 months to use the time or its back to qualifying again.

The course itself is not especially epic in nature. It’s got some hills to make it interesting along the way, with one famous hill towards the end affectionately known as “Heartbreak Hill”. Heartbreak Hill is positioned late into the race, compounding your problems as fatigue sets in.  So while the course has some challenges, that’s not what makes this race so special. The draws of Boston are the crowds and the tradition. The noise levels along the course from all the spectators are legendary. And they don’t just yell for the leaders. Here, all the runners get to experience the noise. And who doesn’t want run the same course that some of the most epic battles took place. The race is steeped in a great marathon history.

Perhaps the greatest story of the Boston Marathon has more to do with one of the great scams of all time than it does with it’s great champions. Afterall who hasn’t heard story of Rosie Ruiz, the women’s winner in 1980. Winner that is, until it was discovered that she started the race, took the subway up to the finish, poured a drink on herself to look like she was sweating and jumped onto the course to win it all. With witnesses everywhere, this was a plan that wasn’t very well thought out, but it sure adds to the fun and history of this race.

As an edurance athlete, I knew long ago that I needed to experience this race at least once in my life. On April 20, 2009, I’ll be getting my chance.

In my attempt to find some of the most interesting and legendary events around the globe, I came across this one. It’s called La Ruta de los Conquistadores, and it’s a multi day mountain bike race in Costa Rica. Considered the toughest mountain bike race in the world, it’s a 4 day stage race from the Pacific to the Caribbean, loosely retracing the journey of Spanish Conqueror Juan de Cavallón.

The first day is a 68.7 mile suffer-fest starting from the Pacific coastal town of Jaco, through 14,500 vertical feet of climbing, river crossings, and long stretches of sticky mud, to the city of Colon. You have 12 hours and 30 minutes to finish, but that often is not enough.

The second day is 47.5 miles of more climbing and rainforest through the interior of Costa Rica. Cut off? 10 hours 30 minutes. For those keeping track that’s an average speed of 4.5 mph, and beating the cutoff is no piece of cake.

The third day of this race starts just outside the town of San Jose and is 41.6 miles long. It’s the shortest of the 4 stages, and for good reason. This stage almost immediately starts the climb up the Irazú volcano and tops out at over 9,000 feet.

Day 4, the final day of the race, takes you from the finish of day three, 78 miles to the Caribbean coast. It might be the easiest of the 4 stages in terms of terrain (roughly the first 33 miles are descending), but it’s still a long day in the saddle. Oh yeah, and you have to ride two sections on bone jarring train tracks.

Sound like fun? Well if you enjoy mountain biking and love a great challenge, it could be the event of a lifetime.

For more information http://adventurerace.com/eng/english.htm