Hawaiian Happenin's: Day 10 Ironmen

4:30 am arrived very early this morning and we were in for a looooooong day. We got out the door and to Kona by 6am. The pro men were set to start their day at 6:30 and the pro women at 6:35. The rest of the 1,900+ participants started at 7am. The Kona Ironman World Championships is akin to the World Series in baseball or the Superbowl in football, or even the Olympics, because competitors from all over the world descend on Kona for this auspicious occasion. To be able to compete, a person must qualify at another Ironman race during the year. As I mentioned another day, there is a lottery for others to win a chance at participating in the highlight of this endurance sport. The race itself requires an ocean swim of 2.4 miles in Kailua-Kona Bay, then it's on the bike for 112 miles, beginning in Kona, at sea level, and riding 56 miles to Hawi, HI, then turning around and heading back to Kona. There are quite a few hills, besides the long, gradual 7 mile grind up 590 feet in elevation. The Queen K is a very windy highway, for it has wind coming at it from all directions. As the wind blows off the ocean from the one side parallel to the road and as it shoots down the mountains across the lava fields on the other side, there is nothing to break or divert the wind, which makes for a nasty headwind. Once back in Kona, it's a hop off (or hobble in some cases) the bike and a 26.2 mile run. The run goes 10 miles through town with a few steep hills and then out the Queen K to the Energy Lab, (where new energy technologies are developed and includes a huge field of lava rock and solar panels....very hot) and back into town. For many, this will be in the high sun part of the day, making this a grueling portion of the race. Once into town, the racers make their way to the finish along Alii Dr and end back at the bay where they started. They have only 17 hours to complete the race and can be removed from the race if time limits are not met. The swim has to be completed in 2 hours and 20 minutes, the bike has to be completed by 5:30 pm, and the run has to be done by midnight.

We found a parking spot and made our way into the masses to find a spot to watch the swim start. The anticipation and excitement in the air was very palpable. We found a great spot on a sea wall behind some restaurants and hotel, which gave a us an unobstructed view. The race has a deep water start, which means racers swim out and begin treading water until the cannon fires...the signal to start. A helicopter swooped and hovered around the area, whipping up the surf as well as excitement. I could only imagine the nerves these athletes were experiencing, waiting, for the battle to begin, a battle of will against one's own body and the elements. At last the cannon boomed and a plume of smoke billowed and the sea was all at once in motion. Arms flinging and thrashing, water churning and boiling. The effect was similar to a salmon run where the fish fly and fling themselves along the river. Then after a minute or two a rhythm and calm began to settle, before it all began again, with the pro women, and then the age groupers. The pro fields had about 50 swimmers each, but the age groupers had about 1,900 swimmers....the spectacle was something to see.

The pro men were out of the water in about an hour, with the women not far behind! They mounted their sleek and specialized steeds of speed and sped along the roads. Their legs, like well-oiled pistons, steely and powerful; calf muscles knotted and gnarled, bursting with power and furiously pumping their pedals.

Craig Alexander

Mirinda Carfrae

These athletes average 25 miles per hour for the entire distance in these races, an unfathomable feat to the average person. We cheered our favorites on as they blasted out of town. The day's heat and humidity already began to smother and swelter. Next were the age-groupers who come in all shapes and sizes. Many are elite and at the same level of performance as the pros. Some have egos larger than the moon. Other age groupers are there for a special purpose or mission...like raising money for cancer, others to compete or fulfill a goal, still others there to show that a disability does not have to mean the end of participating in sports or life. But my favorite of all are the elderly racers, who are truly inspiring. These people come out every year to test their mettle. People like Lew Hollander, 82, who has been competing for the last 25 years. Sister Madonna Buder, 82, a testament of perseverance and faith. We are talking about folks in their late 60's, 70', and early 80's!

One of the more comical stories we heard, was about a local legend, called Cowman. He ran his first Ironman World Championship in 1979 and was hooked. As the years passed, there were more and more rules enlisted in order to compete. and Cowman, a rebel, did not want abide by these rules, one in particular required using sanctioned equipment. Cowman uses a helmet with horns sticking out of it, hence his name. Anyway, he was eventually banned from Ironman competitions, but that has not stopped him. Every year he sneaks into the swim and participates for the whole race until the final approach to the finish line.

The day progressed very quickly, although with the heat and all the walking to find prime spots for viewing, we were all feeling as if we were participating in the race, as well. Finally, it was time for the end of the marathon portion and we situated ourselves on Alii Drive, near the finish line.
The helicopter, from the morning, hovered like a sentinel over the men's leader, announcing his impending arrival. The throngs of spectators, thousands and thousands, crowded the street clapping and hooting, clanging cowbells and cheering. The speakers at the finish line boomed the music, bass throbbing like the heartbeats of a thousand hearts calling the racer home, to victory. At last the winner, Pete Jacobs, made is way down the road, hands in the air, exhaustion and sweat seeping from every pore, grimacing, then smiling, then elated as the people reached out to touch him, as if he were a long awaited king or general returning from battle. Then once again, the helicopter hovered, announcing the arrival of the women's leader. Leanda Cave made her way down, as we all roared with cheers and shouts of joy. Her face flushed with heat and effort, set with the look of steely determination and then joy as she made her way to the finish. The top men and women pros finished the race in about 81/2 hours! Unbelievable. But even more amazing was that as each new racer appeared and made his way down victory lane, the crowds would swell again, as if each were the first place winner.

Craig Alexander

Leanda Cave 1st place

Greg Bennett

Linsey Corbin (from Montana...can you tell?)

The stage, just past the finish line

We had some time before our volunteer duties, so we went to check in and watched the stragglers come in on the bike. At 6, we began out duties and for the next 3 hours we handed out medals and returned personal effects to the racers. From that side of the finish, the show was a whole different story. On the other side, the athletes are "in the zone", like machines never meant to stop, but as soon as they cross the finish, the mind releases its grip on the body and it just shuts down. People were vomiting, crawling, passing out, and sleeping in the grass. Most looked dazed and confused, like casualties of some unknown war. Even the pros, with as much training and preparation, are not immune to this effect. We were able to see Curtis (Paul's friend) and talk with him about his race. He said it was grueling and very windy...it was so bad that he had to pedal downhill, so as not to be stopped by the headwind! He said it was the most difficult race he's ever done. Even though he didn't make his goal time, he finished well and for that he still accomplished his mission...that of Ironman and getting to run in the coveted World Championships in Kona. An awesome experience! Time flew on our shift and we were soon ready to go out and spend that last couple of hours bringing the final competitors home.

The masses

The swell of humanity and emotion was even greater now, in the last couple of hours before midnight. The music was thumping louder, the bright spotlights, the jumbo tv screen, the thunder sticks clapping, and the cheering all seemed more dramatic under cover of night. By this time, the competitors have been in constant motion for almost 17 hours, running on pure adrenaline and something deep within. Some racers came dancing across the line, some flexing muscles, blowing kisses toward heaven, and some ran as if still out on the course, not recognizing they had finished. Some of the racers were barely conscious as they rambled up the ramp, swaying to and fro, about to tumble backwards, but refused to give in. The crowd riled and rallied bringing the final competitors home, and with less than an hour to go there came Fireman Rob who always races wearing his full fireman gear....firecoat, firepants, helmet, airtank....all to raise money for children's cancer. There came 82 year old Lew Hollander, another notch in his tri-belt. There came the 43 year old woman with brain cancer, who trained despite her condition, raced and finished to prove the disease was not in control. And with 20 seconds to spare, there came 77 year old Harriet across that line to hear the coveted phrase that every finisher longs to hear. The phrase that prompts them to keep on going when there is nothing left to give........"YOU ARE AN IRONMAAAAAAAAN!"