But Wait! There’s More! In 2006, I did the “Hawaii Double”, meaning the Ironman and Xterra World Championships. That journey begins here:
Thursday, October 26, 2006
HERE TODAY, GONE TO MAUI
TUESDAY
Cheryl is still doing her “low light interiors”, working with film and ambient light indoors, for her current class. She’s in the certificate program at the Seattle School of Photography. Personally, I think she should be teaching some of the classes. An example of her work can be found here, the website showcasing her work at the Purdy women’s prison. She’s grown enamored of the little Hawaiian churches from the 19th century, and wants to try her camera out in the “little blue church”, which lives up to its name. It is VERY little, and quite blue. Right on the water’s edge at one of Kailua’s best snorkeling spots, it also serves as the first turnaround for the Ironman marathon.
On our way from the parking lot to the church, I see a rugged guy in a Speedo, getting out of the water with two blonds in tow. It’s Mitch Hungate, with his wife and sister. Mitch is a dentist from Lake Tapps/Sumner, WA. He has been into triathlons for far longer than I, doing shorter races until last year. He’s 2.5 years younger than I, so we compete against each other half the time. He’s probably a little faster than I am, when he decides to train. I feel kind of responsible for him being here. Two years ago, we were talking about our results, and he noted he had won his age group in a recent half ironman. His time showed that, unlike most people, he did not go too much slower when he went longer, especially on the bike. I convinced him to enter Couer d’Alene, where he just missed the Kona cut-off, and signed for this year. He finished fifth in the 50-54 age group, and got the first roll down slot. His sister was so convinced he would qualify, that she had reserved a condo on the beach months earlier.
I have a knack for finding the people I’m closest to in the race just before the start of the swim, and this time was no exception. After the pros took off, I meandered down the steps from the pier into the water, and aimlessly drifted left and out into the water, adjusting my goggles and cap in preparation for hitting a few strokes to make my way up to the deep water start. Just as I find my spot to get horizontal, there’s Mitch!
We shake hands, and then, because this is THE Ironman, and everyone is lonely and absurdly nervous, we hug, to support each other and recognize the fear. Then Mitch goes into his rap.
“How’re you feeling? I’m just looking to go easy, take the swim wide like I always do wide on the far side, then treat it like a training day, and just see how I feel. I’m not gonna push it to hard.”
I know this is a bunch of crap, because he says this before EVERY race, and he RACES HARD every race. Sounds like HE’s ready to go.
“Right. Just stick to your plan. Good Luck!,” I say, with all sincerity.
Anyway, here was Mitch on Tuesday morning, at the beach next to the Blue Church, with his entourage, getting ready to extend their vacation later this day on Maui.
“So how’d you do, Al?”
“I feel real good with how I did; I got a personal best on the marathon for an Ironman. My biggest fear was that I would blow up, and not finish strong, and I didn’t do that, so I’m OK. You looked strong each time I saw you.” I’d seen him in the out and backs along Ali’i and The Queen K.
“Right, you know, I felt good there at the end. I just seemed to roll along even though I was struggling on the run.” “Struggling” means he had the same time I did.
“I’ve still got the Xterra coming up. I checked, and I think I’m the oldest person who has a chance to finish both.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right. When is that; where is it?”
“Sunday, at the Maui Prince, in Makena. It’s easy to watch; it’s a lot smaller than Ironman, and everything is all in one spot, and open to everyone. It starts at 9 AM; the pros’ll finish at 11:30, and I’ll get in at 1 o’clock, plus or minus.”
“Well, we might try to watch that – we’ll be on Maui then.”
We say good bye, until the next triathlon, when we’ll be competitors again. I bounce into the bay for a little more snorkeling, until Cheryl finishes up her pictures.
We spend the rest of the day on an auto tour of northwest Hawaii, through Waimea onto Hawi and Kapa’a. Each time we stop for food, at lunch and again for ice cream, I get gushes from the server for doing the race. My finisher’s polo brings me good vibes all day. No post ironman depression (PID) for me.
WEDNESDAY
Today, I’ve got to get back into a minimal “training” mode, as I do have a race coming up in 96 hours – the Xterra Off-Road Triathlon World Championship on Maui. I’m one of less than 50 people (out of 500 in Xterra and 1780 in Ironman) who are doing the “Double” – both big races in Hawaii, a week apart. When I packed my mountain bike for the trip, I noticed that I hadn’t even put it back together from the LAST time I came back from the Xterra on Maui, a year ago. I reflected that I’ve done ONE mountain bike ride all year since then, in August in Colorado. I wonder if I’ll still be able to function on my dual suspension Specialized Epic. Mountain bike racing and cycling 112 miles in an Ironman are as different as cross country and downhill skiing. They use similar appearing tools with similar sounding names, but one is all about endurance and repetitive, consistent action, and the other is all about fighting gravity with repeated burst of anaerobic strength and skill based maneuvers. I’m hoping I won’t forget how, hoping that it’ll be “just like riding a bike”.
I try a twenty minute swim off the pier, and that goes well – I feel strong, and certainly confident that I can manfully swim 1500 meters without too much strain (Ironman is 3800 m). Next, I take my Epic up the Queen K, and start down the lava road to the shore. It’s an hour plus, in 96-100F cloudless noon time heat, along the unforgiving black rock lava route along the ocean’s edge. I don’t fall down, and shift gears without thinking, so I guess it IS just like riding a bike. We’ll see on Sunday.
In the afternoon, my last here in Kona, I go down to the splashing seawall. Hawaii tourism officials have placed on of those little Kamehameha statues signifying a point of interest right on the finish line. I try to capture it in the fading afternoon light, with the Royal Kona, looking like a giant Hawaiian war canoe, looming in the background. My condo is that little patch of light right on water’s edge to the right of the hotel.
THURSDAY
Travel day. The flight from Kona to Kahului, Maui’s airport, takes 30 minutes, but it takes me 4.5 hours, condo to condo. First, wait in Kona’s cute little “green” airport (being all outside, it uses no electricity for heating or cooling) for 45 minutes after surprisingly quick security line. Next, wait 20 minutes for luggage, then another 30 minutes in line at Dollar to see rental car agent. Spend 10 minutes preparing car to accept giant double bike box, and another 15 minutes basically waiting at stop lights along the way to Kihei/Wailea/Makena on Maui’s west coast. And that doesn’t count all the usual lines and waits and drives to and from airport. But who’s complaining. After all, I’m doing all this waiting in beautiful HAWAII. I’ve been here almost three weeks. I’m starting to feel like a local.
Once I get settled, I amble across the street for the sunset. These alone are worth the price of admission here on Maui. The whole vacation side of the island faces west, into often cloudless skies. Small islands (Lanai, Molokai, Kahoolawe, Molikini) dot the seascape. Gentle sand beaches abound, often defined by coconut palms and lava outcrops. There is much less vog (volcanic smoke) clouding the atmosphere here than in Kona. There are no cruise ships or working fishing boats in the way. Just pure reliable sunsets.
This is my sixth year here now, coming back to Maui for the Xterra World’s. I don’t want to feel jaded by the view, so I try to frame a new image of the sun and sea merging together.
