Kona Pilgrimmage: Station 2, The Pier

Kamehameha I, the king who unified the Hawaiian Islands, could have put his vacation cottage anywhere – he was King, after all. He chose Kailua Bay, as the most pleasant place in the entire volcanic chain. The west side of the islands are relatively protected from the prevailing easterly (“trade”) winds. A smallish (for the Big Island) volcano, Hualalai, gathers those trades and occasionally, but not very often, dispenses rain down its flanks. More often, the afternoon sun is obscured by those clouds. Coupled with the constant sea breeze, and the date palms, fed by those occasional rains, swaying overhead, a more idyllic South Sea idyll is hard to imagine.

Today, the King Kamehameha Hotel occupies most of those royal grounds. The bay itself, where King K surfed, is bisected by an L shaped concrete pier, built first to service the fishing fleet, and later expanded to accommodate the daily cruise ship arrivals. Thirty some years ago, the growing Ironman race began using it as ground zero for its swim, bike and run. Each of those courses has changed a bit over the years, but, except for a brief sojourn to the Old Airport when the pier underwent renovation, that spot has served as the swim start, transition zone, and run finish for the “world’s greatest one-day endurance event.”

There’s even a little sign signifying its status. One of those little Hawaii Visitors and Convention Bureau red and yellow jobs, with King K in his flowing robes, and the words: “OFFICIAL SWIM START AND RUN FINISH IRONMAN TRIATHLON WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP.” I am so taken by this spot, the epicenter of the triathlon universe, that a picture of the sign appears on every page of my blog. This sign sits at the exact spot of the finish line, along the seawall protecting Ali’i Drive from the occasional breaker seeking higher ground. About a hundred yards in each direction stand several Banyan trees, huge things cantilevered over the roadway, with endless shooters dropping ground ward for stability and new growth.

That seawall looks out onto Dig Me Beach. I’m not sure of the origin of that name; I think it comes from the parade of athletes crowding its postage stamp sized rectangle of sand. People do stand around a lot, showing off their fitness, on that sand patch, or the stairs leading down, or up on the pier near a small set of wooden cubbyholes where they trustingly leave their towels and other belongings. Ironman week, there is an awful lot of covert strutting going on – see and be seen is the watchword. Along with the babel of tongues – German, American, English, Japanese, and others more exotic. And today, joined by the tour guides hawking their services to the cruise ship arrivals, wandering pale and blinking into the morning sun off today’s floating hotel.

Today, a man has chained himself to the sign. Reading his pasteboards, and listening to his intense lecture, it seems he’s upset at the World Triathlon Corporation being sold to a Chinese … well, in this country we would call him a developer. He owns shopping centers and other real estate projects in the orient, along with a smattering of sporting related businesses. Maybe most analogous to Donald Trump, with his office towers and golf courses? Anyway, he thinks the Hawaii state government is somehow complicit in this sale, and it should be disallowed, in the interests of national, or maybe state, security.

That ship sailed a long time ago. At its start, the Ironman on Hawaii was indeed a not-for-profit local community endeavor. Kept alive in its lean years by the perseverance of Valerie Silk, it was eventually incorporated as the World Triathlon Corporation. Even then, it was mainly a licensing company, which did not even own the main thing it was selling, its name. Ironman as a trademark is owned by Marvel Comics, and WTC has a sweet deal with them for use of the name. As interest in Ironman grew, WTC started selling to other race promoters the opportunity to use the Ironman name, with the right to send athletes from those races to the Original out here in Hawaii. New Zealand, Canada, Vineman, and a few others took that up. Races started popping up in Europe: Roth, Austria, Switzerland. When Graham Fraser perfected the Ironman Experience first in Canada, and then throughout North America, the folks at WTC finally decided they should get in on some of that action, where the real money seemed to be. They put their toe in the water with a race in Louisville. They bought Fraser’s entire operation. They began to market, through original races and the purchase of others, the half distance, or 70.3. They started making a lot of money.

But the WTC of a decade ago was basically just riding on its incredible luck at having sole control of an iconic brand known world wide, whose marketing was done for it though NBC TV broadcasts and word of mouth within the growing triathlon community. Venture capitalists saw a lot of untapped potential, snapped up the WTC, and installed Andy Messick as CEO. He doubled down on the Graham Fraser model, and embarked on a whirlwind of expansion. After 6 or 7 years, the purchase price of $150,000,000 became $890,000,000 which Mr. Wang laid down a few months ago.

Back to the man chained to the sign…yes, there are restrictions on foreign ownership of US corporations engaged in sensitive areas of national security. Think defense, computers, and the like. It’s hard to see the national security interest in a corporation whose customers are more often then not from outside the US, whose services are provided mainly outside the US, and whose main activity is promoting a mass market sporting activity. What, the Chinese are going to enlist all the Ironmen into an army bringing down the US government? We’ll literally run the politicians out of town? The time to stop this process was at the moment when WTC was created as a for-profit entity. Now, he just seems like a ranting fool, akin to those objecting to the creation of the Federal Reserve. Yes, there might be an argument against it, but do you really want to bring the whole pyramid scheme that is modern day capitalism crashing to the ground?

I’m here to race, and part of racing is getting ready. Today, I swam in the bay. It’s a wonderful place to practice keeping your head down – there are so many fish to look at. Visibility is crystalline  all the way down 75-100 feet below the surface. The water is “perfect”. 79F, not too hot, not too cold, perfect for swimming an hour or more, even at a leisurely pace. I only go a mile, 35 minutes, then get out to preen myself along with all the others on the pier.

In the afternoon, I take my bike out for some initiation in the wind and heat. I drive out past the airport, to Kahaka Kai State park entrance, MP 91. My goal: ride down to Waikoloa, MP 75, and back. I expect to have a brisk tail wind on the mainly downhill outbound run, then back into the same brutal wind on the uphill return trudge. I do find a tail wind as I roll past the Veteran’s Cemetery, the “Donkey Crossing” sign, and the “Scenic View” pullout. The scenic view is a grand place to look at …black lava. That’s all there is, for miles in front, behind, and to the east, and a mile down the hill into the ocean. No houses, no trees, no donkeys. What I do notice is the green edge of grass tufts lining each side of the road. Over the years, rain and dust rolling off the Queen K highway have allowed seedlings to sprout, and the highway now sports a neat row of grass, about 5-10 feet wide, on either side. It’s most useful for telling the wind direction. Decidedly in my favor on the outbound leg.

I hit bottom at Waikoloa – a resort complex devoted to golf and fine living – and run smack into a headwind. Boom, no warning, the wind abruptly shifts direction about 150 degrees. I assume it has something to so with the change in elevation, coupled with leaving the wind shadow cast by 13,600′ Mauna Kea to my right. I turn around, and expect to find a tailwind for about a mile or so. But the wind shift holds true for another ten miles, as I climb back up to Scenic View and beyond. Overall on the ride, I average 19 mph – a good bit faster than I would normally go on race day – this despite my overall IF of 0.62. My outbound speed: 20.6. Return trip: 18 MPH. Going out, there is a good 300′ drop; the return trip climbs the same amount. I feel strong, even when the wind turns against me about half way back. I’m feeling pretty fit, and a rising chorus in me chants, “Honor thy training self.’ At this point in the training cycle, half the battle is 90% mental. Gotta keep my head in the game, keep reminding myself I’m here to have fun with my fitness, and nothing more. Thanks, Yogi.