Post 199 - Kona day 7 - Underpants, agony, banquet

Day 7 - Thursday 10th October 2019

The underpants run. A Kona must-do. A legendary part of the experience. A couple of miles jogging around the heart of Kona, in underpants. I was looking forward to it. The shamrock underpants had been procured. I wasn’t too bothered about prancing round in underpants. Most people in Kona this week are prancing around in short shorts, or tight tri shorts, and not much else apart from heart rate monitor straps and running shoes. I think some of the others might have been having second thoughts, but I had seen footage of it from previous years. It’s a bit of fun, it raises a few dollars for charity, and it’s for everyone – all ages, sizes, abilities. It would be a laugh.

The fan had been on in the room all night, blowing air on my neck. My entire body is a wreck, and has been for years – everything is permanently tight and sore. My neck was already a bit stiff from the long drive and the half-dozing in the car last night. The fan blowing cool air on it hadn’t helped and now it felt decidedly stiff. I’d get through the underpants run and then see about stretching it and massaging it,

The underpants run started stupidly early. I suppose this is because it’s easier to close Ali’i drive at an early hour, and also the thousands of participants would get frazzled by the sun if it was in the middle of the day. We were a bit late and didn’t manage to get there to team up with the rest of Team Ireland. We parked the car and legged it down Palani hill as the run was leaving the King K hotel. As I started to run, my neck completely seized up. Completely. Agonisingly. Every step was painful. After the initial seizing up, the intensity of the pain decreased a bit, but it was still pretty bad. And only 2 days from the race…

I would have to make the best of it, get through the underpants run, get back to the condo, and do as much work on it as I could to try to loosen it out. Sore neck apart, the underpants run was fun. All manner of extravagant underpants and costumes. Some people took the underpants-ing and the costume-ing very seriously. Some people took it less seriously. Some people were seriously, seriously ripped, tanned and proud to show it off. Others less so, myself included – very skinny/lean and very white in comparison to many others.

But it was all good fun, and pretty inclusive. You could wear as much or as little as you wanted. Loads of people were watching and cheering. It must have been quite a sight. Some of the expo stalls lining Ali’i Drive were throwing out freebies. It’s amazing how a freebie, no matter how tacky, can make people snatch, grab, stamp, trample, push and shove to get hold of it.

Girl on (her father's?) shoulder very happy with freebie cap

Everyone wants a freebie

Shamrock underpants, stick-on turtles, shirts, funky headgear, leis, shamrock flags

Even Mike Reilly (the voice of Ironman, who calls you over the finish line with 

"You are an Ironman") got in on the action

We managed to get a few Rudy Project caps. And a few photos. And jogged on, around the back of one of the expo areas and back along Ali’i drive to the King K hotel, where it finished. Good fun. I had hoped that the others hadn't been apprehensive about it. I knew it would be a laugh, and fairly innocent fun. I was glad when Natalie described it as "strangely brilliant." High praise indeed...!

We headed back to the condo. It had clouded over. We had an hour of chill-out time. Natalie is in training for the Dublin marathon and she needed to run. She was struggling to get her long runs done in the heat. “I’ve never been so happy to see clouds,” she said as she headed out to make the most of the rare lack of sun. All along Ali’i drive, little mini aid stations had sprung up. The different nutrition and hydration companies had set up little stalls offering free samples and drinks, and everyone out running was making full use of these. I used the hour to work on my neck and Deirdre gave it a massage.

Then, all too quickly, next up was another iconic Kona “thing”: Breakfast with Bob (and Poncho Man). Bob Babbitt is a long-time Ironman interviewer, doing fairly informal interviews with the pros before and after the race. Poncho Man is his assistant. He plays the ukulele and sings introductions and endings to the interviews. They are all recorded and shown on TV/online.

Having “Breakfast with Bob” today in an oceanfront restaurant called “On The Rocks” was famous triathlete, Olympic gold medallist, and first-time Kona competitor Alistair Brownlee. Before him were a couple of the female pros including Laura Siddall. She knows Deirdre from cycling tips to Girona in Spain. Before Breakfast with Bob, we had to have some actual breakfast. "On The Rocks" had stopped serving breakfast but Huggo’s next door fitted us in and we had a good feast overlooking the ocean.

Then we went next door for Breakfast with Bob. It was busy. Alistair Brownlee was a big draw. Saying that, with thousands upon thousands in Kona for the Ironman, it’s surprising it wasn’t far busier. There couldn’t have been more than 60 or 70 people there for it. It’s just that it was a small space! It was good to meet Laura and have a quick chat after her interview. We wished each other well for the race. Word went around that Alistair Brownlee was running late, as he had been selected for a random drugs test after the pro athlete briefing. I was standing off to the side, looking at the pro athlete autograph book. I heard someone say to another, “Is that him?” “Yeah, he’s here…” then someone came up to me and said “Are you Alistair Brownlee, let’s get you on stage…” maybe I should have played along. Faked a Yorkshire accent eee bah gum ey up lad…

Bob Babbitt, Ali Brownlee and "poncho man" on the ukulele, all triathlon legends

When Brownlee did finally arrive, he was quite cagey. The impression I got was that probably he secretly hoped to win, but realistically he might have realised Kona is a tough beast, not at all like the short-course races he is used to, and I would liken it to Mo Farah trying to do the marathon – he’s a great shorter-distance runner but not quite the same when it comes to the marathon. Different horses and different courses. Brownlee may well win Kona one day, but I suspect he will need a few years of trying, learning, and adapting first. Ever the Yorkshire man, he gave Bob a box of Yorkshire tea to conclude his interview. It’s so cool that the pros are so accessible here, you can swim with them, meet them, chat with them, get photos. We are all in the same boat.

I had to register. Today was the last day of registration. We also needed to go to the supermarket. I’d register while the others were at the supermarket. I had my identification this time. The volunteers were fantastic. It’s funny how such a massive global business like Ironman (and it has become a corporate monster) couldn’t put on races for its customers (who pay a fortune in entry fees) without the goodwill and essentially free labour of countless tens of thousands of volunteers… and the volunteers truly are fantastic, right down to the elderly lady who was holding a model of a left ankle with a timing chip on it and telling everyone to put their timing chip on like so, on their left ankle. She must have been 90-odd but had a wonderful youthful exuberace about her.

I signed lots of forms, was glad I had medical insurance, got my bagful of race kit and freebies, and the registration process concluded by being funneled into the merchandise tent, where all manner of Ironman branded stuff was on sale. Some of it was really nice stuff, but not at those extortionate prices. I’d see what I ended up with in terms of race kit, finisher’s kit, and freebies, and then possibly make a trip to buy a couple of official bits and pieces.

One had recently been to Edinburgh - small world

I walked up the steep Palani hill in scorching heat to meet the others. My neck was sore. I couldn’t lift by head or look around. I found the others and was then raging to realise I had forgotten to pick up the pre and post-race banquet tickets. Mine were free but I’d bought tickets for the others at $55 a pop. The pre-race banquet was tonight. I had to go back. I was raging that I’d forgotten. What I really wanted to do was chill the f*ck out, not have a sore neck, and stop running round Kona like a headless chicken. I was getting stressed. Things were catching up with me. I needed a break. I got the tickets. Then went to Starbucks so the others could get their fix of coffee. Then to the post office to buy stamps for a few postcards.

Then back to the condo. The others had bought so much food and drink. Would we ever actually get through it all (we did). There were two doors into the condo – a first screen door, and then a main door. The screen door sprang back on me. I booted it in a rage. Not like me. I needed to calm down and de-stress. I went into my room, shut the door, lay down, put my headphones in, shut my eyes, and lay there for about 40 minutes. Yesterday had been good, but too much. All that driving. Getting back late. Why did I ever half-doze in the car, how stupid was that? Why did I leave the fan on in my room last night? Damn this neck. I couldn’t lift my head off the bed.

I had to go for a run and somehow dissipate all this red mist. But I doubted I could run properly. I had to do something. I ran south on Ali’i drive in a thunderous mood. My neck was really, really bad. Every step was agony. Less than two days from the biggest race of my life. It was what it was, I couldn’t change it. I got back and had another massage. To her credit, Deirdre did everything she could. I kept telling her to go harder on my neck. This wasn’t a time for softly-softly, it needed serious work to de-seize it. It was probably harder for her than it was for me. I was on the anti-inflammatories. Bah. If this was how it would be in race day, it would be a painful 26.2 miles. But I would do it, somehow. And I still had time. It would still improve. Hopefully.

The pre-race "E Komo Mai" (welcome) banquet was on this evening. So back into the wagon, back along to the car park – we had established by now there were two options – a low car park at the junction of Hualalai and Ali’i, which left a little bit of a walk to the pier and King K hotel, or a high car park near the junction of Kuakini and Palani, which was a little closer. We were getting to know this place... At $55 per ticket I hoped it would be good. South Africa’s welcome banquet last year was fantastic. I hoped this would measure up. It should do, this was Kona…!

It did indeed measure up. It was packed. The main pre-race briefing was on as part of the banquet, which was said to be mandatory, so most people had turned up. If nothing else, it was a free meal for athletes. Beer and dessert were on offer – you’ think after 41 years of Ironman, they would learn that 36 hours before the world championships, we don’t want beer and dessert… the rest of it was great though, a great choice of food, vegetarians catered for, as much as you could eat. Which was dangerous. I had to be careful not to over-eat. I was at the stage now, being so close to the race, where everything I ate would now directly affect the race.

No words needed here other than "soon!"

I saw a photo of the coffee boat we never made it to. 

Swim 750m out to it, get a coffee, drink while hanging on, swim back

They had more traditional Hawaiian dancing, music and fire shows. Lots of speeches. Mike Reilly was there, the voice of Ironman. There was a native Hawaiian who was an unbelievably smooth talker. You could close your eyes and listen to him all night. He talked a lot about “Ohana” – the main “theme” of this year’s race. Ohana is a Hawaiian word used to mean family and friends and community, Quite appropriate for Ironman – behind every Ironman athlete is their Ohana, whether present on the island or not. I’m grateful for my Ohana. I went to find June to wish her luck and give her a couple of shamrock stickers for her bike.

Quite a bit was made of what Ironman means. I’ll maybe get into this in more detail in a later post. There’s no doubt that the Kona Ironman is historical and special. The challenge is awesome. The Kona ironman is above and beyond the ironman corporation. I’d love to know the stories of each and every one of the competitors.

“What does Ironman mean?” asked Steve. “It means you’re skint…” he quipped. I couldn’t argue. This reminded me of the following race finisher t-shirt description, entitled "What does your race finisher's t-shirt say about you?":

Any T-shirt from a 5k, 10k or half-marathon race

What you think it says: I am a superb runner 

What it really says: I haven't done a triathlon

Finisher's T-shirt from a sprint triathlon

What you think it says: I am a triathlete

What it really says: I am a novice

Marathon finisher's race T-shirt

What you think it says: I am an endurance athlete

What it really says: I am a crap cyclist

Olympic tri finisher's T-shirt 

What you think it says: I am a better triathlete than everyone wearing a sprint tri t-shirt

What it really says: I am either too young or too old to do anything longer than 2.5 hours

Ironman 70.3/middle distance finisher's T-shirt

What you think it says: I am a proper endurance athlete

What it really says: I haven't done an Ironman

Something wacky or adventurous like Xterra, Channel swim, Lands' End to John O'Groats...

What you think it says: I am the real deal

What it really says: I haven't done an Ironman

Non-Ironman Ironman T-shirt from Outlaw, Challenge series...

What you think it says: I have definitely done an Ironman

What it really says: I still haven't done an Ironman

Ironman T-shirt

What you think it says: I AM AN IRONMAN

What it really says: I haven't been to Kona

Double Iron

What you think it says: Ironman is for wimps

What it really says: I have given up trying to get to Kona

Kona finisher's t-shirt

What you think it says: Top this you b*****ds

What it really says: This race cost me so much money I may have to fake my own death and move to Venezuela

I can’t argue with this either... After a couple of hours, we were fed and watered and the speeches were starting to drag on. So we decided to bail out, beat the crowds, beat the traffic, get home, get my neck some hard treatment, and get to bed early. The race was looming. Tomorrow would be about doing a short bike ride (or rather making sure that I could hold an aero position with my sore neck), working on my neck to loosen it, getting all my gear together, racking everything, and trying to relax.