I returned to the Hawaiian islands one last time this year to join 1,500 trail runners for the third annual XTERRA Trail Run World Championship at Kualoa Ranch on Oahu. This 21k/10k/5k race is becoming a very big deal, and has grown over 50% this year thanks to the 60+ races in the XTERRA Series pulling runners from all over the world and the reputation of a challenging course with $10,000 in prize money. My Dad and I saw an opportunity to get some beach, sun, and fast trails so we made it a "dude's weekend" to retreat from winter on the mainland.
(Ahhh...Waikiki)
It was great to have a few days of one-on-one time with the old man prior to the Sunday race. The Outrigger Reef hotel at Waikiki was a splendid location for "acclimating". I often forget our standard family get-togethers provide few venues for deep conversations, much in thanks to eager grandkids, the ever-ringing cell phone, and the matrix of in-laws and siblings time slicing the few remaining hours for rapid fire catch ups. The beaches of Waikiki offer a contrarian repose, with a trifecta of sun, beach, and mai-tais that can eat an afternoon with one gloriously random conversation. These long stretches of quality time, engaged and listening, inevitably unearth new stories and perspectives that permit us to appreciate the men behind the roles of father and son. Time is a wicked cool gift.
(At the start)
(A few clouds for cover, but still a hot day)
Come 9am on Sunday, we arrived relaxed (and quite possibly over-acclimated) for the 12.9 mile romp through the stunningly beautiful Kualoa Ranch. Nobody was allowed to preview the course, so the starting area was abuzz with new runners getting tips from experienced runners like Max King (2-time defending champion), Fujio Miyachi from Japan (5th last year), Christian Friis, Cristina Begy (defending 35-39 age group champ), and George Taylor (75 yrs old and 2x age group champion). Max had some new challengers this year with Brandon Mader (who rocked the Alabama XTERRA Series), Oregon's Tyler Davis (5th at Nationals), and the US Navy's Will Christian all in top form. The Women's race was wide open, with most people putting their money on Sally Meyerhoff after her 2009 American Record in the 10-mile (54:38), or reigning XTERRA Triathlon World Champ Melanie McQuaid.
(Posing with Team XTREME)
(Seriously bad ass Team XTREME, photo courtesy of Eric Wynn/XTERRA)
As I was warming up, I got to meet Team XTREME, a group of military men running the race in full gas masks to raise awareness for military members wounded in Iraq and Afghanistan. The masks create 20-25% oxygen resistance, which is, as stated by founder Jeremy Soles, "not nearly as difficult as living with Traumatic Brain Injury, PTSD, or learning to walk again with prosthetics". Wow. There's a little perspective for ya.
At 9:15am, the gun went off and Will Christian, Tyler Davis, and Max King led the pack up the first set of hills. I settled into 25th or so, just behind Sally Meyerhoff, trying to keep my cool in the early miles. Behind me was a snake of runners that seemed to stretch to the sea.
(600 trail runners take on the 21k distance, photo courtesy of Eric Wynn/XTERRA)
(The cannon sends us off!)
(Cruising up the first valley, photo courtesy of Eric Wynn/XTERRA)
(Will Christian, Tyler Davis, Rivers Puzy, and Max King set the pace, photo courtesy of Eric Wynn/XTERRA)
At mile 2, the course took a new turn, heading up into the Valley to connect to some single track. We saw backdrop scenes from the TV show Lost, and films such as Fifty First Dates, Jurassic Park, and what looks like to be a new film about the Lost City of Atlantis. The single track came suddenly, and forced the pack to spread out; I was fortunate to be a few steps ahead of Mark Speck, my likely competition for the 40-44 age group. When we exited the single track to head out towards the ocean (mile 4), I had gapped him by a minute, but had also been gapped significantly by those ahead of me. Oh, cursed single track, you giveth and you taketh away!
(Climbing up to the single track)
By mile 5, I was drenched in sweat from the breeze-less stretches of fire roads that baked my pale white body. It felt like we were running all alone in the thicket, but any clearing would quickly show us that there were folks just ahead and on our tail. Single track may spread us out, but fire roads bunch us back up! I wonder what is around the next corner?
(Richard Burgunder leads a group up an early climb)
(Using my 180-degree swiveling ankles to tackle the lava, photo courtesy of XTERRA)
The views were spectacular, and the trails much dryer than previous years. I took in as much water as I could at the aid station (mile 7) before passing some horseback riders and tacking the big climb. The long exposed stretches quickly drained me, and I had to slow to a walk to keep my composure. Try not to strain that neck looking over your shoulder, Scott!
(Even the fire roads were lush)
(How crazy are these views?)
About a half mile up the 15 degree ascent, I came to a complete stop to allow the tunnel vision to fade away. Hmmm, same spot at last year! I guess that course knowledge isn't doing much to help me avoid the overheating. I got passed by a few people, including Mark Speck who was one of the few brave souls running everything, all of whom put a hand on my shoulder to make sure I was okay. Once the vision was back, I snapped to and charged up the hill again.
(And here is what photos look like when the tunnel vision kicks in)
(From the thicket to park-like clearings)
The back side of the mountain (mile 8) was much more dry than last year, so it was easier to control my speed on the descent (unlike Meyerhoff - be sure to check 3:35 in the video a the end of this entry for her epic spill off the mountain). I charged through the last of the fire roads in hopes to catch Mark Speck, but the clearing in the single track showed that he (and three others) were out of reach.
(Along the top ridge, then down the other side, photo courtesy of Eric Wynn/XTERRA)
(Descents steep enough to need a rope! Photo courtesy of Eric Wynn/XTERRA)
There was nobody behind me, so I cruised in at 1:35:41 for 18th place, 3rd in age group. I was just in time for the kids race! Check out the video...it's the future of trail running coming at ya! Such amazing energy.
Max King (1:16:36) made it a three-peat, despite recovering from the flu, with Will Christian (1:17:56), Hawaii's Rivers Puzey (1:20:54), Brandon Mader (1:21:48), and Tyler Davis (1:23:07) taking the top 5 slots. Sally Meyerhoff (1:28:58) recovered from her mountain spill to win the Women's division and pick up the $2,000 check, pushing so hard that she was whisked away to medical soon after crossing the finish (she's fine). Hawaii's Kim Kuehnert (1:36:52) and Melanie McQuaid (1:38:11) finished up the podium. [results, press release]
(Max King)
(Sally Meyerhoff)
(Into the finishing chute!)
Before I could even gulp my third Gatorade, I heard them announce my Dad's name at the finish. He did it again! An amazing 1:56 for a clear win in the 65-69 age group. Once more, I am happily upstaged by my father - age group wins at XTERRA Nationals, USATF Trail Championships, and now XTERRA Worlds. He has set the bar quite high for my debut in the 65-69 age group...thank God I still have a few years to train!
(Larry Dunlap, WORLD CHAMPION!!!!)
We sipped some beers at the finish, making lots of new friends, then headed back to Waikiki to swim with a sea turtle and watch my Dad's legs cramp in crazy sporadic patterns. Throughout the next day and flight home, we overheard trail runners talking about their amazing experiences and how they want to "step it up" to even bigger distances. XTERRA is doing a great job feeding this sport! Then again, how could you not with such an epic adventure.
(Top 3 finishers, men and women)
(Tyler Davis helps raise money for CAF with a haircut from Paul Mitchell)
My Dad and I didn't need to say much as we headed to our respective homes, for we had enough beach and trail time to say everything. I am lucky to be able to share these experiences with him, particularly because it was the time he graciously spent with me as a kid that led to my deep passion for the outdoors. Once again, the gift of time yields immeasurable fruits.
And I couldn't be more proud of my World Champion Dad! Such a perfect way to cap the season.
My thanks to Janet, Trey, Emily, Dayton, and the fabulous crew at XTERRA for another extraordinary event. You guys make it easy to add adventure to our lives.
Mele Kalikimaka! (Happy Holidays)
- SD
[PS - Check 4:55 in the video above...is my Dad throwing an elbow at the finish? ;-) ]
For nearly all of my life, good news has come in threes. The last few months have put an exclamation on that trend in a big way. First, the company I founded (NearbyNow) was acquired by a very exciting business in San Francisco. Second, my wife told me she is pregnant with our second child, a daughter comin' round in mid-March. Number three had been on my calendar for months now - a chance to fulfill a childhood dream and compete in the Ford Ironman World Championships in Kona, Hawaii. Too much life change in one month? For some, maybe. But for adventurers like me/us, I've never felt more invincible.
It's a good thing I was feeling on top of the world, for I would need every ounce of energy to keep up with the 1800+ world class triathletes here for the big show down. This event has more hardbodies than the Top 40 Rap Video countdown, and make no mistake they were here to COMPETE. I was certainly fit, but you could easily pick me out of a line up as one of the 200 lucky lottery slot winners. I don't even have an Ironman logo tattooed anywhere on my unshaven body, for the love of Pete.
(Ironmen do have fun, such as the Thursday Underpants Run)
I got sized up at every street corner and asked "where did you qualify?", only to watch the smile drift from their faces when I said this was my first-ever Ironman distance. Their expressions looked exactly like Ted Knight in Caddyshack when he says, "well, the world needs ditch diggers too". ;-)
No worries. I was AT KONA for IRONMAN. After applying to the lottery for 12 years and sticking to a solid training plan for five months, I was as ready as ever. I yearned to be a part of this now-world standard for crazy endurance challenges that sucked me in with their ABC and NBC one-hour specials decades ago (see video above...drama, baby!). This was long before I was pulled into the world of marathons, ultramarathons, and 100-milers, which even the Ironmen here will tell you is a bit off the deep end. As a teenager when I heard that the origin of the sport was a dare from Commander John Collins in 1978 to combine the toughest swim, bike, and run tests on the island and settle a bet about which athletes were the most fit, I was seriously hooked. How could you not want to be part of a story like that?
As an ultrarunner, hanging around the Ironman crowd felt like a big family reunion filled with distant cousins. We were all cut from the same cloth (lycra?) but I felt like the mountain hillbilly that came out of the woods to see what this whole swim-bike-run-thingy is. I'm sure others thought the same with all my body hair.
I was in good company, however. Western States 100-mile Run Champion Graham Cooper was here after qualifying at Ironman St. George, as was WS100 Champion and 25-time sub-24 hour finisher Tim Twietmeyer after claiming his spot at Ironman Wisconsin. Graham was hoping for a sub-10 hour, and this definitely wasn't his first trip here. His family helped him triple check all his drop bags like a fine-tuned machine. Tim was new to Ironman Hawaii like me, but he was a known quantity among his age group. When I asked Tim which is harder, Ironman or Western States, he just said "Are you kidding? You get to SWIM in the Ironman." True, true. But as a runner, it was the swim I feared the most.
Body numbering and drop bag set up were both fun rituals, much in thanks to 5,000+ volunteers that all show as much passion for this event as the racers. I was through in no time, and had enough time to return to the hotel room and watch the sunrise with my girls. When I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, number-tattooed and as fit as I've ever been in my whole life, I found that peaceful serenity of knowing the training was done and I was ready.
The Speedo, however, looked ridiculous. But that's how I remember the Ironman, so I thought it best to honor those crazy athletes of the 80's.
(Only at Kona can I fit in with a Speedo and compression gear...sooo sexy)
(An Army of volunteers get us marked and ready)
(1,800+ athletes check their gear one last time)
We watched the pros go off at 6:30am, and there was a lot of discussion about the womens race, now wide open after 3-time defending champion Chrissie Wellington dropped with flu-like symptoms. Mirinda Carfrae, who set the marathon record here last year (2:56) in her very first marathon, and XTerra and Ironman 70.3 champion Julie Dibens, here for her first Ironman World Championships, were both up there. For the mens race, the talk was about temperatures predicted to only hit the high 80's by the time of the marathon, and how that might affect a race that usually rewards the heat-friendly like 2-time defending champion Craig Alexander and 2nd place Andreas Raelert.
(Defending champion Craig Alexander chats with Ben Hoffman)
(That's the race number to have!)
I edged into the water about 6:45am, just noticing that I had torn my Speedo when sitting on lava rocks. Let's just hope it holds on! I don't want a penalty for failing the nudity rule. ;-)
The goal for my swim was to stay on the back 1/3 of the pack and have a comfortable experience. It was going to be a long day, so best to hit the bike feeling good and staying aerobic. The 2.4 mile swim distance wasn't a worry so much as the mass start with 1,700 people. When the cannon sent us off, the ocean exploded into a white mass of bubbles and we went heads down.
(On your marks, get set....)
(GO! And the sea becomes a washing machine)
(Look out fish, we're comin' through!)
The meyhem was AMAZING. Nobody could see in the bubble-filled water, so swimmers were darting everywhere. If the pack slowed down in front, the swimmers behind you would start climbing up your calves. It was like rushing the stage at a rock concert! Once a fast swimmer cut through us, we would all jump on his/her tail for drafting, and before too long the pack moved forward like a school of fish. Just tickle the feet in front of you, and don't be surprised if you are tickled yourself. And hang on!
At the halfway buoy, I caught a glimpse of my watch - 41 minutes. This is fast for me! I found a great line on the way back, using the waves from the open ocean swells wherever I could. I hit the beach in 1:20:44 and felt good. That was supposed to be the hardest leg, but honestly, it was fun! I changed into full bike gear, had the volunteers soak me in sunscreen, and hit the road.
(Swim done, now onto the bike)
After a quick loop in town, we made our way to the famed Queen K highway, known for it's unpredictable winds and road temperatures that can exceed 130 degrees. It was warm, but I had the feeling Madame Pele was cutting us some slack so far.
(Canada's Brian Preston shifts into high gear)
The Queen K is all about isolation. Lava flows on either side of the road, heat, and long stretches of highway as far as the eye can see provide a barren landscape worthy of self-contemplation. I hummed along at 23 mph and feeling good, careful to take water and S!Caps at every aid station.
(Chris Lieto takes it out fast, per usual)
(Does it get hot on the Queen K? HELL, yes!)
At mile 30 is where I had signs of my first issue. The ball of my left foot felt like I had stepped on a firecracker, and loosening the shoe straps showed obvious swelling. Hmmm, not good. The pain subsided when I spun in a lower gear, but was ferocious when out of the saddle. I had heard about "hot foot" before, but wasn't sure why it was hitting me now for the first time after thousands of miles of training. It didn't go away by the time we turned to Havi at mile 50, so I had to factor it into my pace and slow down. Graham Cooper was right - there are many more things that can go wrong in an Ironman.
Havi was a reminder about who is in charge on this island...and it ain't us. The heat kicked up to the 90-100's, and the cross winds coming off the mountain were keeping us leaning 20 degrees to stay upright. I had to get out of the aero bars and white-knuckle it for a few miles just to stay on the road. Fallen athletes were being picked up on both sides of the street, proving we are all just one gust away from unforgiving lava ditches.
(The isolation of the climb to Havi)
The return trip from Havi was just as brutal, but at least had some downhill to keep up the momentum. The heat at the bottom was well beyond 100 degrees and we all pushed hard to reach the breeze of the Queen K again. My foot swelling wasn't getting better, and now my obliques were twitching from all that white-knuckling (and let's not forget that swim). Holy cow, this is tough! As we hit 100 miles, my ass started to complain too. But luckily each body position only hurt one area, so I just "rotated the pain".
(Chris McCormack off the bike and putting on the chase)
(Ocean on the right...that means we're headed back!)
(The press follow the head-to-head duel of Chris McCormack and Andreas Raelert)
As I closed in on the final miles, I could see the press cars and helicopters following Chris McCormack and Andreas Raelert going shoulder to shoulder at mile 22 of the marathon. They were on a sub-8:10 pace so this was going to be a fast one! Marino Vanhoenacker and Craig Alexander were behind them and gaining ground too. If I timed it right, I could catch the finish before heading out on the run.
I entered T2, and walked my swollen foot to the change area. The volunteers took one look at it and called over a medical person, who said something about "metatarsal swelling...foot cooked from hot asphalt...ice...five minutes". Clearly I was not the first person with this problem, and I was far from their biggest problems in the full medical tent. Within seconds my foot was packed in ice and they were changing my clothes.
The conversation with the volunteers reminded me of any great crew trying to get their ultrarunner out of late-race aid station. Does it hurt to walk? Well, you've got nine hours to walk a marathon. Did you come this far to drop now? I didn't think so. How about we cram that foot into a running shoe and get you out the door and see what happens? We did just that, and I took an extra minute to watch Chris McCormack win his second world championship before taking off.
(Speedy runners already 10 miles up on us)
(Feeling good enough to run right out of T2)
(Catching a breeze on Ali'i Drive)
(Volunteers were top notch all day...and even recycled 98% of the trash)
I was pleased to quickly figure out that if I ran on my heels (the opposite of barefoot running), my swollen foot felt okay, so I could shuffle along at a 9 min/mile. My legs wanted to do more, but this wasn't going to be their day. It was my first Ironman, so let's just try and finish without a permanent injury. I hollared at Christi to let her know this would be a 4-5 hour marathon, and cruised down Ali'i Drive.
(Alaska's Katy Rosane doesn't let a minor thing like a broken foot stop her from completing an Ironman)
It wasn't hard to occupy myself. Fans were lined up everywhere, runners going in both directions of Ali'i Drive, and the ocean was always on our side. I shuffled the miles, stopping for ice at each aid station.
(Plenty of aloha spirit along the course)
(Oklahoma's Angela Stewart smiles as we climb up to the Queen K)
Before too long, we were on the desolate Queen K again (mile 9) which played mind games with its never-ending expanse. I made a few friends along the way, happy to finally have a chance to chat with other athletes.
I got a huge surprise at mile 10, when Tim Twietmeyer walked along with me. He was working through some back spasms (and massively swollen hands) but laughing his way through the whole thing. It was awesome to see him out there and get a surge from his ever-positive vibe.
(Tim Twietmeyer keeps me in good spirits at mile 10)
(Madam Pele was nice enough to throw in some cloud cover on occasion)
We turned into the Energy Lab, the last out and back before heading home. Everybody could smell the barn door now so there was a lot of smiling. The sun began to set, and each minute brought cooler temperatures. Aaaahhh, it's nice back here!
(Super stoked to see this sign...getting close!)
(Yup, we're running on a live volcano)
(The inspirational mile says "Go, Scratch, Go!")
The Ford inspiration mile gave me one last boost as we returned back on the Queen K. It said "Go, Scratch, Go!", referring to the nickname of Uncle Scratch given to me by my nieces and nephews. Apparently, the goatee is a little scratchy when giving a kiss. ;-) It put my mood in just the right place, and I cruised down the darkening highway wishing the best to those still headed out. The Queen K was eerily quiet, leaving nothing but the sounds of footsteps and the occasional crazy party of volunteers.
In an instant, the calm and quiet of the Queen K was replaced with cheering fans four-deep on either side as I headed down Ali'i Drive one last time. The finish was a party that would rival Times Square, and I crossed in 12:04, good enough for 1,333rd place. I gave a little dance to Kool and the Gang, and the crowd shouted out "YOU ARE AN IRONMAN". I couldn't believe it!
(At last, there it is...the final ramp)
(What a great time!)
(Crossing the finish, with enough energy for a few dance moves to Kool and the Gang)
(Look, I'm getting lei'd on the big screen!)
I got a massage and some food, and packed up my gear to head back to the hotel with my girls. But I didn't stay for long, and ended up coming out at midnight to cheer on the last few finishers in grand style. I tried to get it on video, but it's hard to capture the positive energy that exudes as thousands of spectators cheer each finisher. 2010 champions Chris McCormack and Mirinda Carfrae (winning after clocking a course record 2:53 marathon this time, and only the third sub-9 hour finish of all time) were there to great finishers. It was magical.
(Sophie swipes my lei and makes eyes for the medal)
My body was completely drained, but my soul was spilling over with joy. Is an Ironman tougher than a 100-miler? Well, it's a different kind of tough. I certainly won't be recovering as fast as an ultra. The Ironman training and discipline required is definitely harder, but to approach the mental challenge of a 100-miler, you would probably at least have to do one more lap of the swim and the marathon. But I get the whole Ironman thing now. I can see why the tattoos are so common. This is a bold statement to engage fully in life and find your best, then toe the line with fellow warriors from your tribe. There's nothing wrong with that at all, my cousins!
A huge "mahalo" to all of the directors and great volunteers for putting on a spectacular event. And thanks so much for keeping that lottery system around - I will keep putting my name in and hope to come back again! But for now, it's time to go sit on a beach and rest with a few mai-tai's. It's what Madame Pele would want, no?
