After qualifying for Kona at IMCDA, the very last qualifying race, I immediately followed the typical triathlete pattern of scouring the internet for advice on racing two Ironmans seven weeks apart. Depending on who I believed I was either (a) screwed and should resign myself to a sub-par race or (b) in a good position to build on the work I had already done for another peak. Since my desire to go back to Kona wasn’t about just doing the race again but about doing myself justice there after a disappointing first attempt two years ago, I had to believe in (b). I did the only thing on which everyone agreed: I recovered hard. Being sensible isn’t my strong suit but, like many newbies to the sport who see quick, early gains, I learnt the hard way that recovery is the key to longer term success. So I’m actually pretty good at it.
I took a couple of days completely off, interspersed with some easy spinning and masters swim practices. Oh yeah, and there was a fun mountain bike ride at Bogus Basin in Boise on the way home from CDA too. As I said, I’m not always so good at being sensible. I survived scrape-free thanks to some new elbow and knee pads. And by taking a flying leap into some bushes to prevent a slow motion crash onto the hard trail. My legs and mind both felt a million times better afterwards. Exercise is a powerful thing.
Gravity ride with friends: perfect post-IM restoration for mind and body (yes, I know the elbow pads look ridiculous)
It's hard to get up when you're cracking up and your buddies are pointing and taking photos!!
I didn’t run at all for ten days post-race. Then I tested the legs on an easy 4 miler on the “Escher loop”, so called because I am convinced it is uphill on all four sides, just like that Escher picture. I was surprised at how good they felt! I always benefit from a break from running. After two weeks I went for a four hour ride. The first half was great. The second half was miserable. Made worse by my new self-imposed “no more coke mid-training rides” rule and the new saddle I was testing. The saddle wasn’t a winner. Neither was the one I tested on my next long ride. I resigned myself to dealing with the discomfort and sitting up more often while climbing. I was gutted. I had been so hopeful of solving the problem after Rich and Hilton at Rocklin Endurance Sports patiently spent hours with me trying numerous saddle options and positions on their bike fit trainer.
My body came round soon after that long ride and I put in three weeks of solid workouts. I rode for many solo hours in the aero position on the not-very-exciting Folsom canal path and California highway 16 and I tested out a new nutrition strategy. I had learnt my lessons in CDA and I didn’t intend to make the same mistakes twice. As I began to taper again, my excitement grew. I relished the effortless speed of taper swimming. I PR-ed my regular hill climbs on the bike without even trying (gotta love Strava!). And I was running faster than I have done for years, finally embracing the hills that I had been cursing all year. I rode on the trainer in our stifling garage and sat in the sauna and steam room post-swim sessions to prepare for the heat and humidity. By a week out, I was firmly in the (b) camp, confident that I was ready to tackle Kona again in the best shape of my life.
We flew out to Hawai'i on the Wednesday pre-race. Enough time to relax a bit and to promote our company. And to test out my new Coeur kit that I picked up at the Expo (therefore technically not new on race day!). I had heard good things about their seam-free chamois and I figured anything was worth a try with my saddle issues unresolved. I also wanted a sleeved top for the sun protection and aero benefits (yeah, I’m a sucker for the “free speed” marketing too).
The heat, humidity and wind hit you square on as soon as you step off the plane in Kona. I was immediately reminded why it feels like you’re inside a blast furnace even though the temperature is only in the mid 80s. Deep breaths. You have prepared for this. You love the heat and humidity. It will feel better when you’re moving, riding and running. (I think I got some mutant non-British genes, we’re not a nationality known for flourishing in the heat.)
On Thursday we had fun at the Underpants Run sporting our not-quite-matching underpants and tongue-in-cheek compression socks. We were hoping to get snapped by the photographers from Triathlete magazine or Ironman but our butts didn’t make the cut so we took our own pics instead. It was only 8am and we barely jogged but we were sweating buckets. More deep breaths, it’s going to be ok!
Fun at the UPR!
Friday is bike check-in day. Amongst all the cool experiences of race week in Kona, this is one of my favorites. The energy, excitement and tension which has been building all week is almost at breaking point. Shit is getting real. The start/finish area is buzzing with people. You walk along the Ironman carpet with your bike, helmet and gear bags feeling like a rock star while industry reps with clipboards take note of the brands of your gear. Some of the bike companies give out free stuff. Oh, you spent $2,500 on your Enve wheels, here, you’re practically family, have a free towel! And you feel like you’re really cool and sponsored even though you saved up your money and paid for every damn cent of those wheels yourself!
Checking-in with Ben Hoffman, clutching the free towel!
When you get to the entrance to transition (a.k.a. the famous pier) you get your very own volunteer who escorts you to your spot and then to the bag racks. I was offered a look at the changing tent too but I declined: I knew exactly what it looked like having spent way too long in there getting my feet massaged during T2 in 2015 (I didn’t win T2, I may even have been DFL). Then there’s nothing left to do but eat, sleep and race.