Kona Bound!

I did it! I qualified for the Ironman World Championships in Kona in my first Ironman attempt! It's Tuesday and I'm still sore. And elated. A little play by play:

Loaded the stuff, the kids, and Lynn into the car on Friday for the drive to Madison. I'd had a 24 hour stomach flu 3 days earlier, which passed quickly--thank God--but now Ezra was just getting over it, and Lynn was just getting into the middle of it. Not the happiest campers. I have to say here, that the sacrifice my family has made in order for me to do this were enormous, generous and at times straining. And I'm deeply grateful to them for supporting me through it.

The excitement really began when I got to the athlete checkin at 3:58pm on Friday--the last opportunity to check in-- and was told "you have two minutes before you lose the chance to be in this race." Just made it in under THAT wire, and no, I don't know what the heck I was, or wasn't thinking that I wound up playing that so close, but I breathed a sigh of relief, recognized that while I'm pretty good at the swim, bike and run stuff, I pretty much SUCK at managing the details...more excitement on this later. Race day was Sunday and the day was perfect. Sunny, 60 degrees at race start time, 75 for a high, slight winds.

The 2.4 mile Swim: The last mass start I'd done was in Hudson Valley 10 years ago. That was about 400 people as I recall. This was 2500 folks, all treading water, shoulder to shoulder, until the gun went off and the thrashing and pummeling began in earnest. I was targeting a 1:15 time for the swim, however given the circumstances, I quickly adjusted my goal to fending off blows and going straight. After a while, slithering mass thinned a bit and I could actually swim. I got into a rythm, focussed on staying long, going for the glide, and breathing. Second lap was far easier than the first, and I came out of the water in 50th place out of 157 in my age group with a time of 1:17:32. Short of my goal, but I was happy. The swim is my weak event. Always has been. I've managed to improve it with training, but not a whole lot.

The 112 mile Bike: The bike is my strength, which makes it dangerous for me. As I've written earlier, my pattern in races, particularly long races, is to have a killer bike split, and then give most of it back on the run. I'm happy to say that I rode with my intelligence, and not my ego! I eased into the hills--of which there were many--instead of hammering on them. I hydrated and ate sufficiently. I did everything right, and had a decent (not killer) bike split. I'd targeted 5:30, wound up with a 5:35:05, and a 20.1 MPH average speed. While not "killer" by my standards, my bike split advanced me from 50th place to 10th place in my age group. Finished strong and with plenty in reserves for the run.

The 26.2 mile Run: I started the run in a state of euphoria. I was on the home stretch, and feeling great. I was hydrated, my legs still felt good, and I was running through cheering throngs at the Ironman! It felt like a dream. The experience was amplified by the fact that each athletes first name was printed large and bold on their race number, so as you went by, people were constantly shouting your name, it was so sweet and supportive. Each mile had an aid station with water, gatorade and fruit/powerbars/chicken broth, etc. I ran through the first 3 stations, kept moving while drinking, but after mile 7 I began coming to a full stop to drink, taking in two cups of water and a cup of gatorade at each stop. Having the aid stations mark each mile was a huge boost, psychologically and physically. Other than to drink, I didn't stop or walk. I also never experienced "the wall" which supposedly most experience at mile 18-20. In fact my pace picked up a bit for the last 8 miles, and I finished the run strong. (Completely spent and exhausted, but strong) Lynn and the kids greeted me with screams and joy at the finish line, and helped me walk to the aid tent where I sat and recovered for a while, enjoying the moment and the massive amount of endorphins pumping through my system. Here's the part I/m most proud of: I advanced from 10th to 4th place in my age group on the RUN. It's the first time I've advanced on a run in a triathlon. And it got me to Kona.

The News: You don't know if you got a Kona spot right away. Spots are distributed across all the age groups based on how many are in each age group. So you don't know how many are allocated until the following day, which was a little agonizing for me. My rough calculation told me that there would either be 3 or 4 slots allocated to my age group based on it's size. So I'd either get one, or could get a "roll down" if one of the others didn't take their slot for any reason. I read on the schedule that roll downs would be announced at 11:05 am on Monday. So being the managerially challenged boob that I am, I figured I needed to show up at 11:05am to see if I got a roll down. What I failed to check was: What happens if you qualify outright? Lynn and the kids and I are eating breakfast at the Hilton next door to the event, and at 10:55 I say " I think I better get over there..." I find the Kona Qualifier list, which has a huge crowd around it, at about 10:58, walk up to it, and see that the line for qualifiers in my age group is BELOW my name, meaning I qualified! Then I see in bold print at the top: All athletes qualifying for Kona must register for the race by 11am or forfeit their spot to the roll down. No exceptions." Now it's 10:59. I sprint through the crowds, dash into the registration area, which is empty except for the guy running and his 5 staff, and say "I'm a qualifier and I need to register!" And the manager says sternly, "you're too late. Registration was from 9am to 11am. We're already working on the roll downs. You should have gotten here earlier." At this point I start begging and pleading. He looks me in the eye, looks down at his watch, and says "You have 30 seconds to get over there and register... and next time read the instructions and come on time." And THAT was the most exciting part of the whole race. I registered, and ran back to the restaurant where Lynn and the kids were just leaving and gave them the news.

And so ends this leg of a dream I've had for 25 years. A dream fulfilled. To go to Kona and race with the best in the world. I'm grateful, happy, and excited. I'll break from blogging now, and likely pick up again as the preparation for Kona 2011 begins. Thanks and appreciation to anyone who's had the patience to read my blog!

Rich Hill Kona Qualifier!!!!!!!