from www.irishtriathlon.com I can’t really start the race report without a little prefix, summarising the last three visits to the big island, which had all been less than great to be honest. In 2007 within two miles of the bike start a giddy German on aero bars decided to get up close and personal to my front wheel, resulting a death defying leap from my saddle over the front wheel hitting the ground at 25miles an hour. From that point on it was a long painful for day. 2008 left me wondering where I had left my legs as I couldn’t even get close to the watts I use to warm up on a normal training ride. It got worse on the run and spent 10 mins lying on the ground at the 23 mile mark, coursing this sport swearing I‘d never do another one. 2009 almost didn’t begin as walking down to the swim start, the anxiety of being battered for 20 mins got the better of me and my full belly decided to donate it’s contents to the Kona concrete beside the swim entrance. As you can imagine it didn’t make good viewing for all the other nervous souls entering the swim. And so 2010 loomed, could I finally race this event or would it be another “heroic effort” to get the finish line. A “completer” or a “compeeter” which would it be?
Declan ready for the dawn start.
Goals ? Simply to race well and have a result indicative of my ability. Time wise, to finish under 9.30 would make me happy.
Race morning was a first for me, as I had actually slept more than 1 hour. I decided to have a lighter breakfast than normal with the hope that it would be easier, to hold in what I had when the butterflies woke up. It’s a such a familiar feeling now, fear and excitement mixed with the internal dialogue which repeats,
“you are in control, you have done the training, nothing to fear”
Each year I usually get picked up by Tim Bishop a fellow competitor who I train with in London. The journey is always the same, enter the car, a blast of bravado such as “ Tim, I think I might actually win this race overall” which is greeted with chuckles and then silence. It really feels as you are about to do something very special, almost meet your maker type of stuff. Then leaving the safety of the car we head to transition and body marking, the point of no return. The atmosphere is so thick with nervous energy that if someone lit a match I reckon the whole place would go off.
I headed to my bike to load the days nutrition, check everything is working and battle with the race day gremlin that shouts:
“everybody looks faster than me, jeez look at that bike set up… why didn’t I think of that”
On goes the battle gear, swim hat, goggles and blue seventy “this will make you faster” swim skin.With 20 mins to go, I force down a carbohydrate gel and begin the slow procession to the water. With every stroke as I swim to the start line , I repeat to myself .
“it’s ok, you can do it, don’t be afraid”
Calm before the swim start storm
But the truth is I am afraid. Always have been, water scares me, water with 1700 “ A” type personalities, all willing to climb over you scares the bejesus out of me! I manage to find Tim and tell him I will stay on his feet. At least the fire might be friendly at the start. A minute to go…. Everybody looking for space, believe or not, you actually get kicked before the gun goes off, people just become a little crazy. Booom, we are off. Now this is really make or break time for me. I will usually get to about 30 seconds from the start before the little voices that tell me to panic start to talk and by then I‘m searching for the rescue canoe!. However this time I was so intent on swimming on someone’s toes, the voices must have been talking to someone else because I never heard them. 2 mins of fighting go by and still nothing! Game on! Tyson could hit me now and I wouldn’t stop, time to think about racing, not just surviving for once. What a relief!
Whilst not a great swimmer I can be confident enough to know that after a while I will get space and about 1k in this is what happened. The only problem is that if you don’t have the initial speed to get out of the melee early and grab some quick feet, you usually end up on your own. I decide that at least I would swim the shortest line possible if I couldn’t draft. This is what happened and I’m out of the water in 1.10, 3mins quicker than ever before.
Transition went smoothly, and I was out on the bike quickly. Time to do some damage! It’s a crazy first couple of miles going through town as there are so many bikes close together, everybody is riding hard and people are excited and can be all over the road. I pass the place where some of my skin still remains on the pavement from 4 years earlier. I am always now a little extra cautious around this point.
Soon we hit the the fabled Queen K Highway. The first part is super fast and one can easily hit 50km+ without much effort. I pass people with ease, this is normal at the start of the bike, but it continues throughout the ride. At 40 miles I am passed for the first time, as always, you check out who has the audacity to pass you. I noticed that this guy looked like Pappa Smurf and was at least 100 years old. I recognised him as Joe Bouness from California. He is a multi time age group winner but he much do the run with a zimmer frame! I decided to up it a little more but still in the comfort zone and drop the pensioner. I see the leaders go past on the ocean side of the road. I get excited that I am actually in a race with these super stars. The urge is to start cheering for them but side winds make sure you concentrate on staying on the bike. Every aid station I collect carbohydrate drink and water. I decided to use a normal helmet instead of an aero variety as it could help keep my core temperature down, something that has been a problem in the past. I also wear white kit for the first time. Developed by Fusion, it has special heat resistant features and I also cover my arms with a arm coolers that when wet become extra absorbent so they hold cold water to the skin. Pretty nifty stuff. I hit the halfway point and check my watch, 2hours 38mins. I thought that this was pretty slow and a little frustrated and decided to push on once again. It was only later I realised I miss read my clock and I was actually 2.29.
The side winds just after Havi were at their gruesome best. It is amazing to see the angles of the bikes approaching you from the other side of the road, they look as though they defy gravity due to leaning so hard into the wind. One poor lady actually could not control her bike and veered across the road on a collision path for me. She somehow managed to unclip her pedals and slide to a halt, complete with sparks from her cleats, right in the middle of road. After the wind tunnel fun, I continued to push waiting for the inevitable fatigue to set in around 120k mark. It didn’t happen I continued to pass people. It is one of the few benefits to being a slow swimmer as you have continuous targets on the ride all day. I came close to town and looked at the clock and couldn’t believe the time. I felt great and It was my fastest bike split ever placing me in the top 20 amateur bike splits on the day.
Declan Doyle on the Kona run.
Again transition was smooth, deciding to take on some salt tabs and a gel flask, something I haven’t done before. Exiting the run is a special time, it is full of support, and if you are not careful that support can push you into the red very quickly. My plan was to run on how I felt, and I felt good. I clicked off the miles averaging 6.50sec per mile and got to half way in 1.29. I thought :
“ok, if I can hold on I will do 3 hours.”
I hit the energy lab loop and started to feel fatigue for the first time in the day. It is usually the hottest part of the course and it was the first time I felt hot. The thermometer which someone mashistically placed towards the end of the loop said it was a cool 40c. On leaving this section I saw my pace drop. It is amazing how hard 7 min miles seem when you are tired. I again begin to talk to myself and this is where experience actually becomes so important. In every run there is a stage roughly 25/35 k when your body says “listen, I’ve had enough, stop hurting me! But if you ignore this for long enough, it actually goes away! So I concentrate on drinking at each aid station, think about my technique and put a target on the guy in front. The pain know set in, there is an overwhelming need to stop, just for a min, but again experience tells me once you stop, you are gone, so I shuffle on at 7.30 pace. With 5k to go I feel ok again and push for home. It’s around this point you ask yourself all the questions that you fear you may not have the strength to answer. I could shuffle home now and everything will be ok,
“I have had a decent race and everyday will be happy”
but it’s not in my thoughts, leaving it all out on the course is something I can honestly say I have done in every race and it wasn’t going to change. Two guys pass me and I hang onto the back of them. We get to the last turn on alii drive and there is only three mins running left. One surges and go with him, both in my age division so after 9 hours racing it comes down to an 800 foot race. The surge leaves just two of us going hard, now this my quads are screaming “mercy!“. But I ignore and hold on, knowing that there is no way he will beat me in a sprint ( my reasoning behind this confidence?) he had skinny legs! We see the finish line, he goes, I go and as soon as my shoulder passes his, he drifts backwards. I’m safe! However I still have 30 meters to go, do I slow? The sprint has brought me in shooting distance of another target. This time my head says no but my body says faster. 5 metres left and I’m on his shoulder, he seems surprised and matches me for speed. 2 metres left and eyeballs are out and teeth are on display. I dip for the line and ruin his finisher photo. Mine too come to think about it. But it’s a race and today I was a “compeeter” rather than a completer
I finished with a time of 9.21, swim 1.10, bike 4.52, run 3.11, finishing in the top 50 amateurs in the world and 16th in my age group.
A special thanks to Team TBB and Brett Sutton, my training buddies Tim and Stu and Jenny at Freespeed, my brother Colin and his wife Katharina who have witnessed all my disasters in Kona, and finally to Tam, I couldn’t have done this without you.?