Post 205 - Kona day 9 - Race day: post-race

Day 9 - Saturday 12th October 2019 - Post-race

I crossed the line and walked down off the finishing ramp. The first thing I saw was Deirdre at the front of the crowd on the right hand side. Looking very distinctive in the Team Ireland t-shirt, white with green trim. She had a bit more energy to look happier than me. She was thrilled. Then a volunteer put a Hawaiian lei of shells around my neck and wrapped me in a towel. They like to clear athletes away from the finishing area and into the post-race area as quickly as possible, to prevent overcrowding, and athletes backing up across the finish line.

Looking back at videos of the race, where I was in the race was still fairly well spread out. There are videos of the energy lab section where there is a huge density of athletes, almost like a football crowd streaming away from a stadium after full-time. So I can imagine that the finish line gets very busy and they need to move people away from the vicinity.

My volunteer/escort/finish line bouncer gave me a minute or two to go and see Deirdre. I think I said something like “I don’t have any words but it was a brilliant day…” I couldn’t have said anything else. It had been a great day and a great race. I wasn’t going to let anything affect that. I wasn’t going to let the fact that I needed to be 6 minutes quicker to have done sub-10 affect things. This was the trip and race of a lifetime and I had given everything.

Then I was ushered away from the magical, much sought-after finish area and around to the back of the pier, where the grounds of the King K hotel were. This was the athlete post-race recovery area. I intended to make the most of it! Plenty of people were in terrible shape, struggling to walk, literally being held up by volunteers, or being taken to the medical area. I was feeling surprisingly OK, and a couple of bottles of cold water for starters were very welcome…

The entire hotel grounds had been turned into something indescribable. A mixture of total carnage, quiet reflection, celebration, injury and medical treatment, endless food and drink, bodies in various states of undress, huge medals, finisher’s t-shirts, bloody feet, sweat, heat… and all against the backdrop of palm trees, sunshine, blue sky and ocean. Like nothing else I’ve ever seen before.

I didn’t know where to start. I had a few bits of pizza. Some chips. Some crisps. An ice cream. I hadn’t eaten a scrap of junk food all year. Time to indulge! I had lots of water. Some coke. A long, soothing massage, followed by a lot of difficulty getting back up off the table. I chatted to a few fellow competitors. I got my medal, saw it was scratched on the back, and they were only too happy to replace it. The volunteers and race team were super.

I also got my finisher’s t-shirt, my finisher’s cap, and I got my bag of clothes back (the same bag I had dropped off before the swim start). I had some photos taken. I got changed. I admired the view. I sat down and blanked out for a short while. I had a chat with the Vega team (plant-based Vega nutrition were the main sponsors of this years’ event). And – small world – the girl at Vega I got chatting to was from Ireland. She gave me a few good freebies and (honestly) the best-tasting recovery drink I’d ever had.

Although I was still hungry and thirsty, my stomach was by now full and I couldn’t take on any more food or drink. I was also aware that my supporters had had a long day and would be waiting for me. So it was time to make a move. This move really would signify the end of my race experience, so I lingered just a little longer. It was getting dark now. The soft evening light was incredible. The ocean was calm. Such a contrast with Ali’i drive and the recovery area.

I left the recovery area. Back into the real world. The entire hotel and surroundings were packed. It was carnage. Limping. Sunburn. Families torn apart. Crowds everywhere. I picked up wifi signal and got in touch with the others. Eventually we found each other. Big hugs all round. Natalie (who is a fantastic endurance runner) said, "It was some undertaking in that heat..." Indeed, for athletes and for spectators! I hoped they’d had a good day, and they confirmed that they had indeed. I was very lucky to have had such a brilliant support crew, not only on race day but for the whole trip. Fantastic. 

There was nothing else for it now but to re-unite myself with my bike and other race gear, and then head for home. At this point (as per many other points throughout the day and the entire trip), I was glad I had people with me. Getting a bike and 4 gear bags home solo would be a tough task.

Reunited. Apparently lots of people (including the locals) were

commenting really positively on the shirts. I thought they were 

really cool - distinctive but not disgustingly garish...

Fantastic artwork in the King Kamehameha hotel, right by transition and the pier.. 

This hotel is as integral a part of the Ironman as anything or anywhere 

or anyone else. Some spot...

Thousands of bikes waiting for collection...

Serious worth on the pier...

Our stage just behind the finish line

We shared out all my gear and headed off on the 2-mile walk back. I was surprised how well I was doing. Walking wasn’t too much of a problem. At the start of my Ironman career, the immediate aftermath was always very tough and walking was a nightmare. More recently, the immediate aftermath has been fine and the soreness has kicked in a couple of days later.

We stopped about half a mile down Ali’i drive, just where the barriers started. We cheered finishing athletes. It was so cool. The Ironman tracking app is absolutely excellent and we could see that June wasn’t far away. She came charging past like a steam train possessed. We screamed at her. She didn’t even notice. Full focus. She had got word a bit earlier that she was closing in on a podium position, and she was absolutely going for it. She missed out by a few seconds, and but for sore feet on the bike (partly through not wearing socks), and having to spend a long time in transition getting treated, she’d have been on the podium.

Joanna came through shortly afterwards. She was loving it. She grabbed an Ireland flag off us and bounced down Ali’i drive, in absolute delight. She had the whole finish to herself, jumping up and down. Great scenes. I could have stayed there until midnight, but we had to go back, the others had to eat, I had to shower and unpack, and then we could go back for the midnight finish party.

We got back and rather than just dump everything and flop down on the sofa, I had to try to process everything. There was gear that was covered in urine, that needed urgently washed. Other stuff was covered in salty sea water and it needed rinsed off. I needed a shower. Plus, we were planning on heading back in to the finish area for the final hour. Hero’s (and heroine’s) hour, as the final finishers came home. None of us wanted to miss this.

So, I set to work, sorting my gear, throwing stuff in the washing machine, throwing other stuff (like shoes) in the shower, emptying my bags, trying to be organised. I had a shower. I was pleased to see that I didn’t have major sunburn. I had been as diligent as possible with suncream, and had chosen to cover my arms with sleeves in the race as well. Inevitably, there was still a bit of redness, and I completely covered myself in blissfully cool aloe vera.

I still wasn’t particularly hungry but I snacked on a few bits and pieces. We had a bit of stir-fry. Steve and Natalie went out to get pizza and it took ages because of all the roads still closed. I might even have tried to drink a beer but only managed a few mouthfuls. I manged to have a short rest. Then we headed for the finish area. In the car, of course. By now, most people had finished and we were able to park up on the Kuakini road. Finishers were trickling in. We stood in the relative quiet and isolation of the Kuakini road, clapping and cheering each one that passed. Some were delighted, others had had a bad day that hadn’t gone to plan, and no amount of cheering would fix that.

It was almost eerie, watching these 16-hour athletes appear out of the darkness, doing what they could to keep moving. By this stage, with a mile to run, they knew they were nearly home. I wonder what it was like out on the Queen K, with 7 or 8 miles left to run/walk/jog/shuffle/limp. Tough going I am sure.

I quite enjoyed watching from the Kuakini road, but the race cut-off at midnight was approaching, and we wanted to be at the finish line party. We could hear it, about half a mile away. We headed down to the waterfront and Ali’i Drive. We jumped up on the sea wall and made our way down as close as we could to the finish line. I’ve been back to midnight finishes at both Ironman UK and Ironman Wales. It is something else. This was incredible. For a start, I was in shorts and a t-shirt…!

The music was going full blast. Mike Reilly, the voice of Ironman, was in fine voice. It was packed. Plenty of people had come back. Plenty of finisher’s t-shirts were on show. The atmosphere was electric. An energy I can’t describe. “This is the greatest party in the world!” proclaimed Mike Reilly, and who was to argue?!

But the real stars of the show were the finishers. There was plenty of time between each finisher now, so Mike Reilly was building the atmosphere, telling everyone about the finisher about to arrive, encouraging the crowd to cheer ever louder, until the finisher arrived on the scene. They were undoubtedly energised by everything, and the crowd picked up on this, which energised the crowd even further, in a spirally positive feedback loop, until eventually they got to the finish line and Mike Reilly yelled, “You are…” before the crowd drowned him out by yelling “…an IRONMAN!” Unreal. I took a video of the guy in his 80s finishing. Maybe Mike Reilly was a little un-PC when he yelled, "and here's a guy with no legs..." but I suppose he was just telling it like it was. Incredible stuff, to finish an Ironman with no legs.

No-one wanted to see an athlete come in after the 17 hour cut-off. They wouldn’t officially be an Ironman, and they wouldn’t be in the results. It’s harsh. Everyone went bananas when the last finisher came in, well within the cut-off. The clock hit 17 hours. It was over. A Hawaiian fire dancer treated us to a display, to a beat of Hawaiian drums. I thought this was just a bit flat as everyone had taken out their phones to film it. Mike Reilly obviously picked up on this too and yelled “Let him know that you love it!” Needless to say this got a cheer.

Then they had a few formalities. All the volunteers in the vicinity of the finish line gathered under the finishing gantry for some cheers and photos. They deserved all the cheers they got. One thing that helps to make this event great for the racers is that all the volunteers are there because they want to be there. They've probably all got connections to the event in some form. They are all supporters of the event. Tremendous supporters. They love it. I've been to other events where the event staff are paid employees of a third party company and to them it's just a job - they don't care about the athletes, they don't care about the race, they are just there to do a job and put in their hours. Not so in Kona!

The others had got talking to a volunteer who was very proud to have a role in the swim section. He was on the surf-board team, and was one of the people who tried to encourage the last swimmers to make it to shore and into transition before the 2 hour and 20 minute cut-off. I'm sure every other volunteer would be similarly proud of what they do. The vibes on race day were fantastic, from every one of the volunteers. You couldn't put a price on what they do. It is a shame that Ironman profits so much from what is basically goodwill from many tens of thousands (possibly hundreds of thousands) of volunteers at events around the world.

Then Auntie Mele appeared to sing the Hawaiian anthem. She got an incredible cheer. I thought I knew about most if not all of the traditions around Kona and the Ironman world championships, but I didn’t know about Auntie Mele. I later did some research on this... see below...

Aunti Mele was enthusiastically received

Auntie Mele Kekai. An epitome of Hawaii. As old as the volcanic hills, and with a Hawaiian ancestry that probably goes back even further. An epitome of “Aloha” as well. Aloha is the one Hawaiian word most people will know. In the most basic sense it sounds like and means “Hello”. Delve a little deeper and you realise that Aloha is an embodiment of Hawaii, the land, interconnectness, striving with others, with your Ohana (another Hawaiian word for family/supporters), striving to better yourself and to help others better themselves too. It encompasses excellence, the people, culture, traditions, and the welcome to Hawaii. All in a single word. Auntie Mele was all of this and more…

…As was the notion of the Ironman world championships, particularly if the commercialisation was stripped away and what remained was what was intended when it started up over 40 years ago – the ultimate challenge of body and mind, arguably the ultimate location and environment.

Mark Allen, 6-time Ironman winner, gave a speech at one of the previous race banquets about Aloha. He was very pleased and relieved that Auntie Mele approved of his take on Aloha:

"Aloha" is very real on Hawaii. Natalie had bought a t-shirt which said "Running on coffee and Aloha". The guy in the pizza shop had had a big discussion with the others about the importance of Aloha, and Hawaii maintaining Aloha culture. And I had thought it was simply a word which meant "Hello..."

The 2019 Ironman world championship ended with Mike Reilly yelling, “I’ve got one more thing to say to you…. You…. Are… An IRONMANNNNNNN!” And that was it. Everyone dissipated into the night. We walked back along Ali’i drive. It had previously been reverberating with magic, buzzing with energy and vibrancy. It had been my party, and everyone else’s. As pro triathletes Michelle Vesterby says: “The race is a celebration of all your hard work.”

And now it was over. It was like your ninth birthday party and all your friends are round at your house and you have loads of party food and toys and games and a great time, and then everyone has to go home leaving you alone, looking at the remains of it all.

Now a silent, empty void

We drove home. By now it was morning in the UK and Ireland and I’d had a few messages. I tried to reply to them all. The Ironman world championship 2019 was over. My decade-long journey was over. The end of an era. All the challenges and obstacles I’d overcome had been worth it. I had qualified for and completed Kona.

Aloha and Mahalo...