Just about 42 years ago (October 6, 1973), Syria and Egypt launched a surprise attack on Israel, beginning what became known, variously, as the Yom Kippur, Ramadan, or Arab-Israeli War of 1973. Although it took a bit longer than the Six Day War 6 years earlier, Israel successfully repulsed the attackers by October 25, ending the fighting, but not the conflict. Regional oil producers, led by Saudi Arabia, began economic warfare, with an oil seller’s boycott. This led to a quadrupling of oil prices practically overnight. Hard to imagine, but over the next six months, gasoline in the US went from about 32¢ a gallon to over a dollar. Long lines formed at gas stations, which began firing many employees, the ones who had previously pumped our gas and cleaned our windshields (for free!)
The US responded, again economically, in a number of ways. In addition to instituting federal gas price controls, we began to look seriously into developing alternative energy sources, to prevent worsening dependence on foreign oil. All sorts of things were brought up. In western Colorado, a nuclear device was set off underground in an attempt to release “shale oil” – the stuff we’re now pumping out with the help of ‘fracking. Solar cells received their first major federal subsidies. Farmers were encouraged to grow corn for ethanol to be added to fuel at the pump.
And in Hawaii, in 1974, the Natural Energy Laboratory was founded a few miles north of Kailua Bay. The original idea was to develop Ocean Thermal Energy Conversion – take advantage of temperature differentials in ocean water at various levels to drive turbines which could produce electricity. To the tune of nearly $250,000,000, pipes and pumps were built to bring cold ocean water from 3,000 feet down to the surface on shore. In 1979, a small amount of electricity was actually produced at the lab, but the original project was abandoned in 1991.
However, like most government programs, it developed a life and constituency of its own. Large slabs of solar cells now rise at the entrance to the lab. A burgeoning complex has sprung up at water’s edge, which (in the words of the lab’s promotional material) “serves as a business incubator, research facility, and economic development agency. It offers the opportunity for organizations using sea water, sunshine, and ingenuity to perform research, engage in conservation and education activities, and produce sustainable commercial products.”
And on the second Saturday in October, the Energy Lab is the penultimate crucible in which Ironman Athletes are tested. The marathon is run as two out-and-back loops, the first down Ali’i Drive, and the second out along the Queen Ka’hamanu Highway, turning left into the Lab just past mile 16, with the turn around about 1.4 miles farther on, down at the ocean’s edge.
More often than not, the race leaders find themselves close to each other at this point, usually with some gaining and others losing ground. It’s easy for them to see which group they are in, as the out and back run provides a chance to gauge position relative to each other.
In addition to its strategic location, the topography of the lab’s road provides some unique challenges. The elevation drops from about 100′ to about 10′ over 3/4 of a mile, a 3-4% grade – kind of fun going down, but coming back out, at mile 19 of a marathon, not so much. Worse, as the road drops down from the lava to the sand, the Queen K winds disappear, and runners are left in a dripping stew of sweat, with no evaporative breeze.
Half way through, the road turns right, paralleling the shore. A park popular with locals lines the route; families hold parties all day and into the evening to cheer on the racers. Even though it’s less than a mile from there to the turnaround, it seems never ending, especially for those who have placed something special in their special needs bags. For me, it will be a head lamp, as the sun will surely have set by the time I hit the lab.
The pros themselves recognize the unique quality of this section of the run. In 2006, a year after 3 time winner Peter Reid retired from racing, he decided to volunteer at an aid station, to “give back” to the island and the competition for all it had given him. He could have chosen anywhere and any job. He picked the aid station at the top of the lab, the one racers hit just before they turn right back onto the Queen K for the final 10k slog to the finish.
That was my first race at Kona. I was doing fairly well. The sun was just setting behind my back, and I was feeling as if I might actually meet my primary goal of “not blowing up on the run”. But the trek up the Energy Lab hill was sapping me. What little breeze there is comes up from the ocean, at just about the same speed I was running – so I felt nothing to help cool the grinding heat. I was dogging my steps, eager to make the top; but, eyes downcast, I was unable to produce any real power. As I approached the aid station, I heard someone saying, with fervant intensity, “You NEED this water.” I could sense someone looking right at me, so I reached out and looked up at the same time – and saw Peter Reid locking eyes with me, his eyebrows imploring me to take his cup of plain, warm water. I’ve never gotten such a boost from one drink before or since.