The Kona Experience

Getting into the Ironman World Championships was a total surprise to me. I have always dreamed of one day racing in Kona, but I never planned or even thought of going there anytime soon. Luckily there were 4-5 additional entry slots available at NYC Ironman and I was able to grab the last one in my age group (11 were offered).

Ironman Tourist

I accepted the party invite without hesitation, not really thinking about the timing of the event nor if I was able to prepare properly. I had 2 months to prepare after a grueling NYC Ironman, so the plan was to maintain bike fitness, and work on less time consuming open water swimming and run endurance. After 2 weeks of recovery I started training again. In my plans I had open water swims, lots of frequent but not too long runs, and one more mega miles day on the bike where I would cover 140-150 miles. My training and coaching philosophy is that you can swim and bike all you want, and longer distances are encouraged if you have the time (of course carefully building volume), but when it comes to running I always prefer mostly shorter and frequent runs at varied intensities and only occasionally run 18-20 miles in one shot. This approach has helped me and many of my athletes to avoid injuries and efficiently recover.

 As I started training we entered the busy month of September. The kids' travel soccer schedule kicked in, I got more involved in a work project and next thing you know the training hours started diminishing. It was especially difficult to get long rides in. I did manage to ride 100 miles a couple of times, ran a lot and didn't swim that much, but I thought I was ready when we left for Hawaii.

Race strategy: draft the entire swim, have fun on the bike, go for it on the run.

Pete Jacobs dealing with pre-race tension

I have to say Kona was everything and more of what I imagined it to be during race week. Super looking athletes everywhere, tri businesses flowing onto Alii Drive, great food with lots of healthy choices. Pro sightings and chances to meet some of them was a daily routine. The check in process was a breeze  the expo was amazing, only my bike made some strange noises after picking it up from Tribike Transport. This would be expected so I scheduled a tune up, but that didn't seem to help. The wheels were rolling, pedals turning so I just closed my ears and hoped for the best!



Race day! Finally! I arrived at 5:30am with family in tow and all of us filled with anxious excitement. I got my number (1118) carefully printed on my shoulders then went to get weighed in. 180 lbs. I gained 3 pounds since IM NYC. I felt like the big guy as everyone around me seemed like your uber-triathlete, 150 pound, 0 bodyfat, perfect build human machine. I mean this in a good way. I want to be like that too!

"You will witness Dante's inferno!" not literally...

I checked my bike, topped off the tires and got on the porta potty line... Then off to the beach. As I descended those famous stairs I looked across the bay to see if I can spot my fan club: Michelle, my beloved wife and mental coach, and my two devoted wonderful children all decked out in Formula Tri Club gear. There must have been 2000 people lining the edge of the bay. Just like on TV, helicopters hovering, paddle boarders cruising, and Mike Reilly (the voice of Ironman) getting everybody revved up for the race.

She's ready to fly

The swim. It was friendly and calm while treading water and waiting for the start. At 7am sharp the voice of Ironman yelled GO GO GO! No gun? Weird. 5 seconds later the gun also went off. Technical glitch? Oh well keep swimming! By the time I came back to reality I was getting pounded by swimmers from all angles. I even caught a glimpse of a rescue diver below. Are you also going to kick me in the kidney? It was wild. Very similar to the Lake Placid start. I noticed during my research of the race that every wise person on-line was recommending staying to the left at the swim start. I tried, but somehow ended up on the extreme right where the swim support staff were directing us back to the left. I breathed to my left and saw a mass of people swimming pretty far from where I was with a bunch of still aggressive swimmers around me.

Michelle should get the Pulitzer prize for this picture. Spectators getting hit by waves. We swam in that???

Somebody was way off course, but who?? I sighted a few times to finally spot the orange buoy which was to my left (should have been on my right), but I was swimming straight to the turnaround boats so I kept course. I managed to latch onto someone who seemed just a bit faster than me and stayed with him almost all the way. The turnaround was a bit unusual from what I can remember, as I was just focused on a pair of feet in front of me and not letting anyone in between, I didn't sight much. We made a right turn at the first boat (we had to round 2 of them), and then the course made a left to take us further back out before rounding the 2nd boat. I mostly saw bubbles and the pair of feet so not sure what that was all about. I just followed the happy feet in front of me.

Wait for iiiit!

Wait for IIIIT!!

GO GO GO!!! Where's the cannon? Oh yeah... BOOOOM!

Total time: 1:13. Slow. The feet seemed faster!! Oh well, I saved a lot of energy and was ready to rock the bike course. The transition was comfortable and smooth. My faithful Cervelo was eagerly waiting for me to tear up that Queen K highway.

The bike. Apparently I came out of the water with a lot of people because the first 5-10 miles were very crowded on the bike course. As soon as we got to the Queen K, some people decided to drop the hammer. I was comfortably hard at 26-28mph with a slight tailwind when groups of 5-6 riders kept zooming by. After the 4th such group I decided to up the tempo a bit myself. I was used to going harder than what is conventionally recommended for Ironman (that's the aerobic threshold level) and still be able to recover and run fairly well. I trained this way and had confidence in being able to pull it off. This is how I like to have fun on the bike. So I latched onto a group. Most of us kept the required distance between us, but there was always 1 or 2 riders who kept passing then slowing down immediately and made me and others have to ride harder periodically to retake the lead. This yoyo action went on until we started climbing up to Hawi. There the group and everybody disintegrated.

That 10 mile or so climb to Hawi was brutal. Only a 2-3% incline but the headwinds must have been 30+ mph. I tried to stay in aero and keep a decent pace as I was passing a ton of people. The legs felt fine here, only my lower back started killing me. I couldn't sit up because the winds would have made me come to a halt. It was brutal! I was definitely going too hard. After the turnaround we were flying with the strong tailwind. I mean FLYING. 50 mph! I kept the pressure on the pedals. Legs were loosening though and I was able to eat and drink a lot even at the high speeds. Then the unexpected happened. After a short climb back up to the Queen K highway, my legs gave out. At mile 75(ish) I could not turn the pedals. I started feeling cramps and major fatigue on the climb and once I got on the flat I had 0 left. Now what?

Small chain ring, easy gear. Spin. Drink. And pull over because all those people I passed up to Hawi are now over taking me again. Great job T! The last 30 miles of the bike was torture. By the time I finished I had cramps in every muscle in my lower body.

Total time: 5:24. Still OK despite the bad finish.

But now I couldn't even walk. I destroyed myself. Time for Plan B. What was that again? Make a sharp right turn into the showers and soft pillow in the hotel? When I got to the transition tent my pain must have been written on my face because some massage dude threw me on a table and started working my legs. Then another massage dude joined in on the fun. It didn't help. If anything I was just in more pain. They sat me down and started talking to me but not sure what they were saying, my vision got blurry, sounds muffled, and I couldn't lift my head because I had a cramp in my neck. So friggin weird! I tried to say something but that frontal neck cramp paralyzed me. The friendly masseuse guys gave me some funky tasting drink, it must have been a special electrolyte drink, then while I was hunched over due to neck cramps I managed to put my shoes on. I figured whether I walk straight back to the hotel or onto the run course I needed to have shoes on! Then as I straightened up and started walking out of transition my head cleared, the neck cramp went away so I decided to walk up to where my wife and kids were and figure out together what to do next because I had no clue how to run a marathon in that wreck of a physical and mental condition.

"Don't stop! Keep going! You're doing great!" they yelled as I hobbled up to them. I confessed my mistakes committed on the bike, kissed them each on the forehead and off I went. I did warn them of a very possible late arrival to the finish. Onto the run course. I couldn't disappoint them by pulling out of the race. They were so happy for me and proud of me and I still had about 10 hours at my disposal. OK, something positive to build on!

The marathon. I actually managed to run the first 3 miles. Slowly, but I was running. I still had major pains all over. Some cramps seemed permanent (feet and calves), and some occasional (quads and hammies). At every aid station I took on salt pills or sports drinks. As in most cases when operating under strain, one problem created another. My heart rate spiked to 170 while I was jogging. It should have been 140ish. I knew I couldn't sustain even a slow jog at that intensity. So I decided to walk as long as necessary to get my heart rate down under 150, then got into a jog/run shuffle until it reached 170 again. I pretty much moved forward like this until mile 20. Along the way more weird things happened.

At one point I thought I had rocks in my shoes so I stopped, took off my shoes and socks to find nothing that could have even resembled a rock. Nothing. A little while later I did it again. Then at another point I was looking for spots on the side of the road where I could take just a short little nap. I remember having a conversation with myself, discussing the potential comfort level of different dirt patches. Fortunately I never did lie down for a nap.

A screenshot from the TV

I really do appreciate all the crowds coming out and cheering on. Without them an Ironman would be much harder to accomplish. But sometimes you have to smile at what they are yelling at you. I was clearly not OK and barely holding myself up for most of the run. If you watch the NBC coverage you can get a glimpse of me 1:43 into the show. My distorted facial expression from all the pain is obvious in that shot. So is my contorted body position. As I moved my tired and achy body forward like this there were many who yelled "Great job, you are looking great!!". Looking great? I was not looking great. And that was a fact. Maybe they were referring to the ultra cool looking custom Formula Tri Club gear I was wearing? :)

The hallucinatious run/walk routine combined with lots of electrolytes finally paid off in the Eneregy Lab. My revival from zombie state to half human was a result of this aforementioned routine, cooler air in the sunset and a major psychological boost after having passed the last turnaround to head straight home. It was like somebody found my legs in Hawi and brought them to me in the Energy lab.

Remember the last point: PSYCHOLOGY. It all starts in the head. Even if you do have rocks in your shoes.

During the last 10k I ran most of the way, only slowing down to a walk occasionally to admire one of the most beautiful sunsets on earth and at aid stations for some pretzels and soup. Sounds like I was in a Woody Allen movie! My last mile (mostly downhill) was sub 7 minutes. I entered the finishing chute with full power, in an almost ecstatic state under the lights, surrounded by huge crowds and the welcoming voice of the Ironman. My dear family was cheering on from just before the finish line and I couldn't stop for a kiss this time because I was roaming ahead at 100 miles per hour.  I was never so happy to finish a race. My hapless finish line celebration was more than just putting this painful race behind me. I was putting the entire year behind me to finally get some rest and concentrate on more important things than my triathlon racing.

Total run time: 4:34. Total time: 11:33. Not bad considering, but it seemed like an eternity.

It was an unforgettable experience and I highly recommend every triathlete to go to Kona and experience race week. Whether racing or not, you gotta be there! One day I will return again, hopefully once more as a racer.

Hawaii is full of color and natural beauty