Tricape Race Report: Ironman Hawaii by Raoul de Jongh

It had been a hard winter in Cape Town and many sacrifices were made along the way to fulfil this dream of mine that has been there since I first learnt about triathlon. Indeed, my highschool physical education teacher had raced there, and seeing the potential I had from running and swimming, he coaxed me into triathlon at the end of my matric year. He handed me my first Triathlete Magazine and inside, was the race report from the 1997 race. It grabbed me and swallowed me and here we are, 11 years later, and I am at the airport in Kona, and yes, my bike is not on the flight. I am told this is normal. Mom, Dad and Marilu all have their stuff though. Of course they do.

Our apartment/condo is incredible and we are on the waters edge. A quick dip reveals schools of tropical fish right there, where you walk in. Its green, its hot and yes, its humid. We shop, we eat, we drink, and quick quick the trip is over.

Oh wait, lets go back a little. All the way to April, where I qualified for a race in Kona on October 11th, 2008. some would call it a date with destiny, some would call it the race of truth. For me, it was the cherry on a great year. My first year of focussing on Ironman and I was in Hawaii, to race the World Ironman Champs, a race I have wanted to race since I was 18 years old.

You cannot believe this place during raceweek. 1800 athletes, their families, spectators and pro’s from all around the world descend on Kona for 10 days. It’s a real festival of athletic prowess and its very scary as well. Everywhere you go, there are bikes, there are guys swimming, biking and running. They are going fast. They all have pimped out bikes. They look the part. they must be – they made it to World Champs. Suddenly, your peer group got a reality check. This is real and you better get your rest in for raceday.

Amazingly, people do the complete opposite. They chase the pro’s up and down Alii drive all week. Its quite scary to watch a 12 hour age grouper chase Craig Alexander up the hill at mile 2 on the run route. You can see the fear in his eyes, because he has no idea who’s ahead of him. He just wants to beat everyone out there.

Lets cut a little forwards, to…… lets say 6:15am on Saturday the 11th. I am sitting on the pool deck at the King Kam Hotel. Belinda Granger pointed out this spot to us earlier in the week as a calm place to chill before the race. Chrissie Wellington is here and let me tell you something you don’t know about her. She has freakishly long toes. There, I said it. Miss Wellington’s hidden secret to her running prowess is that she has Shaquille O’Neill’s toes.

Moving on and its 6:50am. I am sandwhiched between a guy and a girl, treading water. We are packed so close at the front of the start that I can see the follicles on the girls skin. The air is electric and the banter is light, but edgy. Ze Germans try push in everywhere, they must all be sub 50min swimmers. I got an inside tip that when the orange flag goes up, its 10 seconds to go, and I apologise for my actions beforehand, making a smidgen of space to kick off.

BANG! And the gun goes off. Its rough out there and the kicking and arms are everywhere and I feel like there are 50 Roland Schoemans in the water around me there is so much wake. I’m trying to spot a gap and see one just right of me so I dip under the water and under the guy to my right and swim underwater for a few seconds and pop up in clean water! I hang on the right of the group for a while and as the guys slow I find I’m naturally moving up the pecking order. Eventually im swimming near the front of the pack and there is this annoying dude who’s not just touching my feet, but my calves he’s that far up the leg. We get halfway and I see Greg Welch and he has a beer in his hands. I adjust my cap and let the annoying dude pass and settle in the middle to back of the pack and cruise back. The trip back felt faster and just before we hit the ramp we swim over the cameramen and its quite a sight seeing six guys in scuba gear out there.

55:31 and im over the mat and getting my transition bag. Not bad, but not super. I am having a rocker of a time and get on the bike with a big smile and head out of T1 to see the 3 best supporters in the world with a big banner just for me. A tear wells up in my eye and then I remember : Time to wikkel boytjie! I settle into a great rhythm in the first 5km and am amazed at how fast some of the guys head out of T1, only to see them come back 10km up the road. I am settled nicely in the front pack of AG guys (from what I can see but im sure there are guys up the road) and the heart rate is perfect, I feel amazing and we are moving on so nicely. My second gel goes down with lots of hassle and I just don’t feel like solids. I have felt quite full since yesterday and seems American food has me a little “plugged” up inside. Oh well. Im sure it’ll come right. I hear its 42 degrees celcius today. Luckily the road isn’t made of black lava. Right…

The first energy bar goes halfway and comes back up. Oh no! The next gel cant get past my mouth and I realise I’m in trouble. I want to finish with a smile, and run the marathon. I’m in this awesome place riding along at a great speed at the right intensity, but I know that if I continue at this pace, I will run out of calories sooner than later. Whilst in the first draft-legal pack I’ve every ridden in, during an Ironman, in my life, I back off the pace 10 beats a minute to see if my appetite comes back. It also happens to coincide with the 18 mile climb to Hawi and to back the pace sufficiently, I have to go pretty slow. I am now on a weak mix of coke and water and have made quite a bit of peace about the situation. I could be in a lot worse places in my life, and yes, its important to me to finish this running, with a smile.

As I’m pondering this a guy gets blown off his bike just ahead of me. We are coming down the hill and the legendary winds on the Queen K are in full force. 60km/h gusts of wind, side on. He goes down hard and I get to him as another lady is running to him as well, she called the ambulance and they are on their way. I calm him down as much as you can calm a guy who’s dream race has just gone up in tatters. It’s a realisation that indeed, there are people out there having worse issues than not being able to eat. I get on the bike and head back to town, which is still 80km away. I get into a decent rhythm but I’m riding aid station to aid station, i.e. coke bottle to coke bottle. I keep trying to get solids in but this is to no avail.

I feel thankful for T2 when it comes and I’m a little bummed about my ride time, I lost 30 minutes in the last 120km and that’s the race done, but I realise I still have to run a marathon on an empty stomach. This itself is a massive challenge in itself, so I try head to the porta potty for some relief but….. nothing. I head out onto Alii drive and its electric. I cruise along a little below what I would normally be running but I don’t care. I stop the watch and realise I’m plodding aid station to aid station for the rest of the run. I try get people to run with me but nobody seems to be running at this slower speed of mine. Its 9km out to the turn at the church and I high five the volunteers out there, the sugar highs are settling into delirium now. Awesome. On the return to town I try get in the toilet again, but all that gives is a 15 second burst of air. A hear the next athlete waiting outside give a chuckle. He doesn’t realise its like a sauna inside and I chuckle back at his future…

As I make the turn for Palani Hill Craig Alexander comes around the same corner and I put my hand up for a high five, and I get a high five from the leader of the race. Thankfully, I have 24km to go at this point. I walk Palani Hill and head out to the Queen K with a smile on my dial.

The volunteers are awesome and I stop to boogie at 1 of the aid stations for a few seconds with them. Orange Slices are a new source of liquid which seem to be staying in and the are the best relief of sweet coke this side of mothers milk. I run with a new buddy, Stewart Phillis, for a while. He provides some much needed company and I am sad to see him walking at the next aid station. I make the turn into the Energy Lab and the board reads 36 degrees celcius. Woo Hoo! Its cooling down. The Lab gives me a little energy and I am excited to be running in a place which has given the sport such great definitive moments.

The trip back on the highway is not really memorable and its just to get back to Palani. I cruise down the hill and I have 1.5km to run and its all over. The usual rush of emotion comes over me and I shed a tear of joy, that I am still running and that I have no idea of my time, that the experience of the race has been so amazing. That I am in Hawaii and about to see my folks and my girlfriend again. That I am blessed to live this incredible life and that I have a God given talent which I am using. It passes with a wave of euphoria and I look up to the sky and put my hands in the air and let out a shout of ecstacy. As I run under the hanging tree and the Ironman banner I just stop and start to walk. There is only 400m to go and I want to enjoy it all. I see my dad and give him a hug. He has a South African flag for me and I am proud to represent my country here.

I walk down the finish chute with my flag loving this place. I will never forget it. This moment is a good one. I let a fellow athlete through at the finish so I can get a better photo on the line and I put my hands up and BAM! Its over.

Scoot ahead a few hours and it’s the after party. I am hanging out doing shooters with Rudger Beke and Rebekah Keat, chatting away with Crowie and listening to the banter of athletes having a big party for the first time in ages. I realise there is a balance here, and that the emotional release I am witnessing is worth the headache in the morning.

If you get the chance to get to this race – go. Its worth selling you other bike, your spare sunglasses and your spare race wheels. I did all those things to get there and I will never regret it. As I was doing yoga this week images of the race were flashing through my head and I was content that indeed, a deep impact is there, that I can draw back on the experience of this race whenever I want.

That indeed, gives me a deep sense of calm. If you have any questions please don’t hesitate to contact me. I also would like to give a shout out to those partners of mine who made this trip possible, or easier through providing me with the best quality equipment an athlete could ask for.

Kleinhoekkloof Wines, Whaspgel, Puma, Orca, Suunto, Rockets Compression Gear.

Then a last thank you to my amazing family and my gorgeous girlfriend for making the trip with me, it was amazing having you all there.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, November 12th, 2008 at 1:05 pm and is filed under 2008, Ironman World Championship, Ironman World Championship 2008, Raoul de Jongh, race report. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.