Ironman 70.3 Hawaii 2017: Honu Race Report

Since we are over five months into Ironman training, my plan going into Honu this year was really just to treat it as a long training day. No taper, no big changes in schedule except to count it as both a long run and long bike, which meant taking the day before the race off. This worked out well, as the day before the race happened to be my birthday! We had been planning on driving from the house but the week of the race Sean’s mom surprised us by coming over to spectate and by renting a really nice townhouse just minutes from the race finish. We would have made due either way but it was certainly a wonderful surprise to be closer to the race and to have Cheryle there as our support. 

We checked in on Friday and rumors were already swirling about whether the race could go on without modification due to the wind, which was pretty severe. I brushed the possibility out of my mind until the evening, when we sat in the townhouse eating dinner feeling the walls shake violently with each gust. I thought about dealing with crosswinds like this on my brand new bike, having only ridden it on one ride over 40 minutes and still feeling quite wobbly and uncertain on it. Something about this made me nervous, and the feeling of uneasiness stayed with me all night, causing me to toss and turn without much sleep. Luckily when we got up in the morning the winds seemed to have ramped back down to “normal” Big Island level. Still fairly rough but no longer threatening to tear the house down!

Last minute preparations

We got up early, 3:45, and rode the shuttle to the start at Hapuna. This year, unlike when I did the race in 2015, they had instituted a rolling start, meaning that we gathered by gender and age group and then seeded ourselves within those groups according to our projected swim times. While I like rolling starts in general, this one was not well-executed. My group did not begin to enter the water until over an hour after the start time. I took a long warm up -- much longer than usual -- running at a relaxed pace up and down the beach, getting in the water for a short swim, all while watching the water conditions go from moderately acceptable to downright bad. By the time we got in the water it was incredibly choppy and the currents were going every which way. If they continue the rolling start in subsequent years, I hope that they figure out a way either to condense the start waves or to start the race an hour earlier to minimize the deterioration in water condition. I would also like to see the start waves divided simply by swim time, not by gender or age group. Why, as someone who generally swims 35-36 minutes for 1.2 miles, I had to swim through several waves of much slower men, I don’t understand. Anyway, I survived, but I think there is significant room for improvement in how to organize the rolling start. 

Lots of time to take pictures waiting to start...

All this time contemplating and waiting for my start also gave me time to think about the fact that I hadn’t toed the line at a triathlon start for two years! After Honu in 2015 I had so much momentum and motivation I but knew that the next year, in which I got married, bought a house, moved, and changed jobs was not the year to add Ironman training to the mix. So despite my enthusiasm triathlon had been put in hold. This realization both thrilled me (my grand return to the sport I love!) and worried me (did I forget anything? How should I pace this race? Am I really ready?). Having five months of Ironman training under my belt I felt vastly more prepared than I was for my first 70.3 in 2015 and I tried to just focus on that, but much ofthat training was Zone 2 base training and I was concerned that lack of speed training would negatively affect my race. Finally it was my turn to enter the start chute and put these thoughts to rest.

The swim was not enjoyable for me because of the conditions. No matter how in rhythm I got or how hard I pushed, the waves and current made it impossible to have the kind of swim I had hoped for. I was somewhat horrified when I came out of the water and saw 40 minutes on my watch. All my improvement on the swim this year and a 40 minute swim time is what I have to show for it? Blah. I tried to just put it behind me mentally and move on to the next thing: transition. 

My transition was…. unpolished. Looking back on it and the time (almost twelve minutes!) I’m not quite sure what I was thinking or doing in there. Having a sit down breakfast? Getting a massage? I put on my heart rate monitor, I very thoroughly applied sunscreen, I ate a Huma gel… what else was I doing that took so freaking long? I think I might have hairsprayed my hair… so embarrassing. Pre-race I remember thinking “don’t rush, this is your first race back and you’re not trying to win anything so just take your time and don’t forget anything you need.” Post-race looking at my time I was thinking “okay so maybe you should have rushed a little bit!” Yikes. Anyhow I wasn’t at all stressed at the time and I left T1 more prepared for any bike ride than I probably ever will be again. 

The only bike photo where my helmet didn't look like it was about to fall off

The bike. I remember one thought, the whole race. “Push.” Unlike my first Honu where I remember every hill and bump, this one kind of blurs into a memory of just pushing, faster faster, the whole time. Luckily my shiny new bike, which found its name, Beastie, on this ride, performed like a rockstar and we bonded in a big way. Where my Cervelo would lose speed hitting an uphill, Beastie felt like it was holding all the accumulated speed somewhere in its frame and then letting it out in perfectly rationed portions to keep me flying all the way up the hill. This may also have been a reflection of having a new drivetrain, since the one on my Cervelo was so shot. Either way, it was fun. I had a wonderful time flying down hills in my new 11th gear and passing people on the uphills as my bike unleashed its power. It was awesome. For about half of the course I had a stupidly huge grin on my face. The only little bauble was my fault, when I stupidly tried to drink from my water bottle on my unfamiliar bike on the crosswinds section coming down from Hawi going incredibly fast. I got hit with a terrifying gust of wind and, having only one hand on the handle bars, I was suddenly sideways and moved at least three feet to my right, straight off the shoulder onto the gravel. Somehow I managed to right myself without crashing and steer back into the concrete, all within a split second, but it took ten minutes for my heart to stop pounding. Needless to say I didn’t take my hands off the aero bars again until the wind had calmed down. 

The conditions this year were definitely more challenging than in 2015. The wind wasn’t as scary as I had been worried it might be, but that's not to say it was easy either. The headwind into Hawi was much more severe, and the crosswinds were frightening. It also started raining around Mahukona so the whole acsent to Hawi felt like I was riding through a massive storm. There were quite a few crashes, each one sobering. I saw an ambulance loading one unconscious cyclist, and on a less serious but odder note I also saw two women whose bikes had somehow gotten tangled and stuck together. Both athletes were fine but they were desperately trying to pull their bikes apart, swearing up a storm all the while. 

I counted myself lucky to make it to T2 unscathed. I was slow in T2 although not quite as embarrassingly so as T1, and then I was headed out on the run. My goal was to keep my mike pace right around 12 minutes per mile, and I was aiming to keep my heart rate around 150-155. I had decided that I wanted to run he whole thing without stopping to walk at all except through aid stations (since most of the time if I try to drink out of a cup and run the hydration just ends up all over the front of my tri suit. Here I encountered the other major change from 2015 was that the run course has been changed to two loops, so instead of running all around the Mauna Lani resort area runners stay on the Fairmont property for the vast majority of the time. I’m sure this is easier logistically but it also creates a hillier, grassier, hotter run course. 

My first six miles felt good. The course was indeed very, very tough, with constant rolling hills, quite a bit of time spent running in grass, and unforgiving sun and heat, but my training seemed to be carrying me through. I was thinking “wow, what a change from two years ago” as I headed into the second loop. I even stopped to go to the bathroom, which was new for me. This is where I discovered he challenge of a one-piece tri suit, as much as I love them… it does not make a pit stop easy! 

As soon as I hit familiar territory and had to start repeating the course for the second time, my body and mind turned on me. My legs started breaking down (in hindsight, probably a byproduct of going too hard on the bike!) and mentally I was just disgusted by the thought of doing the exact same really hard run that I had just done again. I made it through three miles holding it together fairly well, but at nine miles my body gave up on me and it was nothing but determination that kept me running. My legs were so shot that I couldn’t even keep my heart rate at 75% -- the fastest I could run had my heart rate hovering around 140. It was bizarre. I hated every hill, both the uphill and the downhill, with a fiery passion. People who were doing run/walk intervals were passing me, but since my goal was to run the whole thing I couldn’t allow myself to walk, even if it might have been a little faster. The “Hell’s Kitchen” section of the course, which some people hate because of the heat but I like because it is paved and flat, now appears twice, so for me this was a pick-me-up. When I hit it the second time I knew I only had a couple of miles left, which kept me shuffling along. When I stepped on a rock and twisted my ankle a bit, I barely noticed. Luckily it held for the rest of the race and only got stiff the next day. 

The last mile and a half everyone surrounding me was suffering. It was scorchingly hot and humid, and the course was nothing but hills pounding on our aging joints. There were many words of encouragment and support shared between us; this is one of the things I love most about triathlon. I had been thinking for some reason that I was supposed to be drinking both water and Gatorade at aid stations, rather than alternating like I usually do, so my stomach was sloshing and distended. Gross. (I felt really stupid afterward when I realized my mistake.)

As is always the case, the last half mile I was lifted by excitement, accomplishment, and adrenaline and my pain melted away. The grass suddenly looks green and beautiful instead of squishy and painful and the gorgeous blue ocean sparkles just beyond the black lava and white coral rocks. Suddenly all is well in the world again. Coming to the finish line was such an incredible feeling, as it always is, and this time I enjoyed knowing that I had taken significant time off my PR and that I had put together a better race, even if it was painful. I also had a bigger cheering section at the finish line this year, which was really fun. Thank you to Cheryle, the Wiley family, and the Grigore family for being there to bring me in! 

So Honu is in the books once again, with a 31 minute improvement on my time! The next thing on my plate is The Big One: my first full Ironman! I’m so glad that we chose to do this race to get us back into it. I got to make my stupid mistakes, try some things out, and see where I stand regarding fitness so that I can better plan and improve over the next few months to be ready for Coeur D’Alene! It was also a wonderful reminder of why I love this sport so much and that Ironman will be worth every moment of dedication and training.