Post 207 - Kona day 11 - Loco moco and beaches

Day 11 - Monday 14th October 2019

All too quickly, the last full day in Kona arrived. We’d make the most of it…

Starting with – finally – some loco moco. A “traditional” Hawaiian breakfast. Not really an “Ironman” breakfast, but the Ironman was over now. It consisted of rice, a hamburger patty, fried eggs and gravy, all piled up on a plate. Superb. Even more superb when it’s 30 degrees and you eat with a view of the ocean at an open air restaurant.

It didn’t disappoint. The place we went to served it up with shredded beef instead of a hamburger patty. It was amazing. Almost worth the trip alone. I ate and ate and ate, and then ate everything that the others couldn’t finish eating. Magnificent. And this magnificent meal was paid for by a running friend back in West Cork named Geraldine, who we all know. It was a magnificent gesture from a very brilliant person. 

What a pair

Great shirt

The aquatic life treated us to another great show, with the spinner dolphins doing their thing. Swimming along just offshore in a big group, their fins breaking the surface, and from time to time, they’d jump up, completely out of the water, and spin while they did it. Apparently they simply do this for fun. And why not?!

The photos don't do it justice

We had a short wander about. Sarah Crowley (a top female pro) was obviously nearby as her bike was sitting just outside. I’m sure her bike was worth ten thousand dollars. It had a lock on it, but it looked like you could chew through it. Kona is obviously quite an honest place. Deirdre and I had arrived a couple of days before Steve and Natalie, and we had seen Kona before the Ironman circus had really kicked off. Natalie and Steve were only now seeing it "without" the Ironman, and Kona is undeniably a nice, laid-back place, with a massive global event taking over for about 10 days every October. 

On a boardwalk wall, there was a big poster entitled “the world’s most dangerous sharks”, with images of big fearsome-looking beasts. I’m sure sharks aren’t unknown in Kona and Hawaii. To date I hadn’t seen a single thing in the water that caused me any concern. I didn’t see any jellyfish, manta rays, sharks, big fish, or anything. It was only the small, colourful, benign ones. With one last day in the water today, I hoped it would stay that way!

Actually, one thing did give me concern in the water – Steve’s lack of swimming ability the first time he was in the water. A lot of the trip would revolve around being in the water so I was very glad when a bodyboard and a flotation aid solved the problem!

We headed for Maniniowali beach – the bodyboarding beach with the dumping waves where Deirdre and I had been bodyboarding before Steve and Natalie arrived. It’s a great spot. We drove out along the Queen K, with bodyboards and snacks loaded into the back of the car. It was as if the Ironman had never happened. The traffic lights were back on, the roads were all open, there was traffic again, the aid stations were all away. There were only a couple of cyclists out for one last spin to shake out their legs before leaving the island.

Maniniowali beach was hot. And scenic. I was getting used to the black lava, blue sky and heat and clear sparkling water by now. But the colour contrasts at Maniniowali were something else. It looked brilliant. We got suncreamed up again and went to play in the water, like the spinner dolphins. It was great fun. Steve was now confident enough in the water to properly do some bodyboarding. Natalie described this as a Hawaiian miracle. So he did well…

It was good fun, trying to catch a few waves and riding them to shore. I’ve never surfed, but I can imagine it is absolutely exhilarating. Bodyboarding is a much easier proposition, but still along the same lines as surfing. You’re out in the water, in the elements, feeling the force of nature through the waves, trying to read the patterns and trying to decide which waves look like they are worth trying to catch, then trying to time your paddle so that the wave will catch you just as it is breaking… If you get it right it’s brilliant – you’re zooming effortlessly to shore, carried by the wave. Then you have to work to get back out beyond the breakers, to try and catch another one. It’s really good fun.

Like a boss of the waves

Waiting to catch a wave... like meercats

It says "Great Success" then the waves washed it away

I suppose it’s comparable to working and working to climb a mountain on the bike and then getting the downhill “reward”, or climbing a mountain on foot and getting the views. There’s something really rewarding about using human power. That’s why, I guess, we do things like Ironman triathlons. In 2005 when I worked in France, I didn’t understand the people who drove their camper vans up the Alpine mountains, parked their vans 200 metres from the summit of an Alpine col, took their bikes out, set up their videos, filmed themselves “summiting” on their bikes and then jumped back into the camper van to drive back down. Often they were wearing yellow jerseys too…!

I could have spent all day in the water but didn’t want to get too much sun and risk getting burned. So we lay on the beach, in the shade under the parasols, and dried off while eating snacks and drinking. We had also planned to go to a different beach today – a more remote one, where you literally have to drive over a rough track through a lava field, park up and then hike across a lava flow to reach it. We had hoped to make it to this beach and then back to our condo before sunset so that we could eat down by the waterfront at the condo complex as the sun went down.

But things always take longer than you think, and we decided not to rush. We could watch our last sunset from the remote beach instead. It really was literally a drive over a lava field. It wasn’t a road, it was a rocky, bumpy track, which you had to negotiate by driving at walking pace. It went on for ages and ages and ages. But it was unreal, driving over black lava, some of which looked like it was still soft and molten. Other-worldly. Finally we reached a parking area.

There was a first beach, (Mahai’ula beach) near the parking area, which you had to walk along before reaching the trail which led to the second, more remote Makalawena beach. The sun was starting to sink low in the sky off to the west. We ambled along Mahai’ula beach, splashing our feet in the waves and clambering over some rocks. In the evening light, it looked amazing. There were some palm trees, under which was a turtle sleeping on the beach. Incredible. We wondered if it was OK, if it needed water, if it was too hot. We met a few other people who said it had been there all day, so we assumed it was happy enough resting there. Occasionally it would wiggle a flipper or move its head. We sat and watched this Hawaiian honu and listened to the waves.

The "19" is the Queen K highway. You can see the track through the lava field to the beach, and then you can just about see the lava path running north-east to the remote beach

Views from the car on the lava track

The remote beach was maybe a 20-minute hike away, over a rough rocky path through a lava field. We started to wander along this path. Flip-flops and sandals weren’t really ideal footwear for this, and there was no light of any description if it got dark on the way back. We realised that we didn’t have time and that the going was too tough for those in flip-flops, so we headed back to where the turtle was resting. The remote beach was north-facing anyway, so we wouldn’t have seen the sunset. We sat by the turtle, on the beach, underneath the palm trees, and watched the sunset. Amazing. It was a lime-green coloured sunset. You couldn’t have scripted it better. 

Oh Hawaii.

There were some original old fishing cabins behind the beach. There were some goats behind the cabins. I didn't expect to see goats on the lava. What must have inspired people – centuries ago – to travel across the Pacific, into the unknown, to find these islands, and to decide to stay and make their homes and their living in what must have been a very harsh, hot, barren environment…? 

...Probably the same thing which inspires people to do Ironman races, to qualify for Kona, and to come here to compete. A spirit of adventure, of seeing what’s possible, of seeing what’s over the horizon, of pushing one’s limits, of moving forwards.

It was a short and very dark walk back to the car, and a bumpy rollercoaster car drive back across the lava fields. Steve was in his element driving, but I just wanted to be back on flat roads. We headed back and made dinner. Or rather the others took charge of it. I sorted out the beers. A range of bottled Kona Brewing Company beers, no less. They looked fantastic. The same beers as the one I’d been presented with at  the awards ceremony at Ironman UK, when I found out I had qualified for Kona. I still haven’t drank that one, and probably never will…

The dinner also looked fantastic. We took it down to the oceanfront and got stuck in. It was quite late and quite quiet, and the temperature was perfect. A great way to spend the last night. The beers were superb. And cold. Most triathletes dream about having a beer when they finish their race. It’s a reward. For many, it’s a mental visualisation when the going gets tough in the marathon. I’ve never had these visions and I’ve never had the stomach for post-race beers, but the light Kona lager I had now was absolutely superb. Easy to drink, refreshing, cold. I was less keen on the Kona ales, but I’ll remember my lager for a long time… There was also prosecco - Deirdre had flown on Virgin Atlantic and one of the stewards was from near her hometown, and she got a free bottle of prosecco.

Then we had to plan the packing and airport and eating and returning-the-rental-car operations for tomorrow. Deirdre was on an earlier flight so she would have to go sooner. I’d drop her out to the airport and then come back and pick Steve and Natalie up (Steve still hadn’t done his shopping, talk about last-minute…) We’d then try to get some food, load the car up and head off. I had a huge amount of stuff to pack as I had picked up quite a few freebies, and quite a few other bits and pieces too. I was a bit worried about weight limits, and even having enough room in my luggage. And the bike had to be dismantled and packed too…

Post 206 - Kona day 10 - The day after...

Day 10 - Sunday 13th October 2019

Needless to say, the day after the Ironman, we all had a bit of a lie-in. We got up at our leisure. I didn’t feel terrible. I could still move. We ambled to swimming pool number 1. Very picturesque, but a little bit chilly. Then we ambled down to swimming pool number 2, down by the oceanfront. It was warmer and we splashed about. It was good to do something to get the blood flowing, flushing out all the muscles and helping the recovery.

Then we headed into town for some fodder. We got a great ocean-front table at the Kona Canoe Club. It didn’t matter what I did or ate now. We polished off Mai Tai and Margarita cocktails – yes, it was only lunch time! This was followed by a pile of tacos. Great stuff. We certainly didn’t rush it. There were no obligations or deadlines today, apart from the Banquet of Champions later that night. There was no reason to hurry, with a pod of spinner dolphins playing and putting on a show, just offshore from where we were sitting. Awesome.

After our food, we wandered around Kona, looking in the various little independent shops. They were all really cool. Kona seems to attract a certain kind of person to live there – independent, resilient, free-spirited, quirky, creative. The shops reflected this. There were some really good, non-official souvenirs on offer, at much better prices than the branded official stuff. Some of the shops had really interesting displays of the histories of the various races here.

And there were also the high-end stuff. Ironman branded jewellery. Solid gold and diamond. Tens of thousands of dollars. Sunglasses for a thousand dollars. Sadly, you need a certain level of income to be able to even contemplate doing an Ironman, and you need a level above that to try to qualify for Kona as you need a certain level of equipment, and then to actually go to Kona you need a level above that again. So in that sense, I think running is a much purer sport as it is available to everyone. I’m glad I have qualified for Kona now, because in years to come the “arms race” of ever-improving equipment and technology and the ever-increasing price of the top-end equipment needed to compete at this level, will become prohibitive.

Regardless, I enjoyed wandering around the little independent shops. I had seen a really cool piece of Ironman-themed artwork in a different shop earlier in the week, but when I went to see about buying it, there were none of this particular design left. 

However, in secret, the others bought me an Ironman tile. A what?! One of the shops allowed you to design a tile, personalise it, add on the swim, bike, run and finishing times. I think they hoped to pick it up later in the day and present it to me. They must have gone back to the shop and found that they weren't able to make it in time. So they told me about it, and said that the shop had promised that they would ship it to me, free of charge. I went to the shop to give them my address. The sample tiles on display looked fantastic. Really unique mementos. I looked forward to getting mine. It would arrive some day in the middle of the Edinburgh winter and give me something to smile about. Way cooler than the artwork I'd seen that had sold out.

We headed further down towards the finishing area. Already everything was already half-dismantled. It’s a big job to put everything together and pack it all away again. I bought a couple of official bits and pieces from the main expo. Already some of the stuff had discounts as they sought to get rid of it. I bought a few fridge magnets and stickers and a half-price mug. I was fairly confident that in a month or so, everything for sale in the expo, all the Ironman world championship 2019 merchandise, would be half-price online. We picked up some desserts for later. I could eat desserts now that it was all over...!

We had a look around the outdoor market and then headed back to Casa de Emdeko. Just in time for another spectacular sunset from the oceanside pool. It had been a really good, chilled out day. More like a conventional “holiday” day. Then it was time to get ready for the post-race banquet. The “Banquet of Champions”.

A super shirt from Matt, one of my oldest cycling/triathlon buddies

As an athlete I was entitled to free entry, but I’d bought tickets for the others at $55 each. I hoped it would be good. The welcome banquet had been good, so the same again would do nicely. Hopefully Ironman would realise that their athletes would be up for a bit of post-race junk food and dessert as well…

We headed down. It was really busy. All the prime seats were taken. There was a VIP area fenced off at the front. They will squeeze as much money out of it as they can. On race day you could buy a VIP viewing experience for $1000. For that you got to watch the swim start on a boat and you get a balcony view of the finish line at Ali’i drive, and a bit of food and drink. Good value? Evidently some think so…

The food was reasonable if you weren’t vegetarian. If you were vegetarian, you could get yourself a plateful of leaves. It was so disappointing for Natalie. They hadn’t catered for vegetarians at all. At the welcome banquet, there had been a great spread of vegetarian food. But here, there was literally nothing but leaves. I was gutted for Natalie. And pretty annoyed that for $55, there weren’t any vegetarian options. Such a shame, to put such a downer on it. I’m sure a lot of people were in the same boat. And the race was sponsored by a vegetarian food company!

We took this up with one of the managers on site. He worked for the catering side of the King K hotel (in whose grounds the banquet was held). He sympathised, but said they were simply following the contract  that Ironman have in place. He said they have the same issue every year. No vegetarian food. They give this feedback to Ironman every year, and nothing changes. He said I should take it up with them. He took my email address and said he would follow up and get back to me. 2 months later and I’m still waiting. I took this up with Ironman. 2 months later and I’m still waiting…

We couldn’t change it, and as much as we might have wanted to walk out and go somewhere else, we had $165 spent on tickets, so we would make the best of it. I loaded my plate up and we found seats with an obscured view of the stage, behind the spotlights and sound gantry. We ran into June and Stephen (I really should have contacted them before the banquet) and we ate and chatted about the race. I asked her finish time. “123456,” she said. “Eh?!” 12 hours, 34 minutes, and 56 seconds. She hadn’t worn socks on the bike and the heat and friction had caused major problems with her feet, and she had spent ages in the second transition being treated. If not for this, she’d have been winning a prize tonight.

We talked about "what next?" June and Stephen were off to the west coast of the USA for a few weeks of holiday (being retired must have its benefits), but the "what next" question was more in reference to triathlon/sport. June said, "What DO you do next? Where DO you go from here? I mean, this is the pinnacle of triathlon, of sport..." Where indeed would I go next? Or June? I'd have to come down from this trip and race and think about that question...

I wasn’t really up for drinking, I just didn’t feel like it. I knocked back a few desserts. The speeches were going on and on. Mike Reilly was the master of ceremonies, but his voice had been reduced to a croak after nearly 20 hours on the microphone yesterday.

They present awards to the top 5 finishers in each male and female age group, in 5-year bands, from 18 up to 80+. It takes a long time to get through it all. Some of the amateur finishing times were obscene. Most of the age groupers under 45 years old who finish on the podium are probably good enough to be professionals. But there’s not enough money in it for it to be a viable career. Or rather, there’s not enough prize money. The pros should get more. Ironman must make a fortune every year.

Alexandre Vinokourov – former pro cyclist and convicted doper – won the male 45-49 age group with the fastest non-pro bike split of the day. He was roundly booed getting his prize. The effects of doping apparently provide benefits for years and years. Laurent Jalabert – another former pro cyclist with doping clouds over him – also won an age group prize. A photo went round on social media of the Ironman CEO hugging Vinokourov. Then they announced the latest Ironman race addition to the calendar – Ironman Kazakhstan, where Vinokourov is from. Draw your own conclusions.

Race videos were shown, speeches went on and on, and it was difficult to chat over the noise. We watched the pros being presented with their awards and then everyone felt that we had had enough. It had been a bit of an anti-climax. I should have enjoyed it more than I did. Maybe I was just too tired. And the vegetarian food issue had been a bit of a sour note. And it was a bit noisy and difficult to chat. But whatever. I was glad we had gone along to it. I wanted to experience everything, and I’m sure the others, even Natalie, wouldn’t change it.

Female top 10

Male top 10. Course record winning time. Fast...

We headed back to Casa de Emdeko and lounged around, chilling out. We made a vague plan for tomorrow, which would be our last full day on the Big Island. We all wanted to go and do some last-minute shopping. I really wanted to eat Loco Moco for breakfast. And now that the race was over, I could. It’s a traditional Hawaiian dish of rice, steak, gravy and fried eggs. I wasn’t going to leave Hawaii without having had it. We thought going back to our bodyboarding beach would be good, and we were also keen to try to do the short trek over a lava field to the isolated Makalawena beach. On the way to this beach, we would pass Mahai’ula beach.

It could be a busy day. Like most of our days had been…

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...