Doug Herr Kona Race Report
I realize that this race report is different than the traditional EN reports, but I wrote this mainly for my non-IM friends and family. Also, as a lottery slot winner, it's a bit of a different perspective, so here goes:
I managed to get about 6+ hours of sleep, which is pretty unusual for the night before a race. It's normal to spend most of the night staring at the ceiling. I had four alarms set for 3:15 but was up at 3:00 and didn't need them. After getting ready, stretching, and having breakfast, I met Patrick and Anne at 4:25 for the trip in to town. It was great having Anne there to drop us off at the race site. Not having to worry about parking reduced the stress by 90%. It also allowed our families to sleep a bit more and meet us closer to the start time. I got my bike bottles set up, Garmins turned on, and tires pumped up, then met the team at 6:10 for our group picture. After downing two GU gels, 1/2 of a Powerbar, and water, I headed into the water for the start.
It's a deep-water start, meaning the start line is actually out in the water and all of the participants are positioned behind the line (marked by race volunteers paddling in a line back and forth on surfboards) treading water which is about 20 feet deep. We were treading water for about 10 minutes, doing our best to conserve energy. The saltwater is very buoyant, so it did not take much effort to tread. At 6:55 the cannon went off and the race was started. The female age-groupers were scheduled to go off at 7:10, to provide some distance between the two groups. I felt comfortable in the water and there was not too much contact. I seemed to be able to find a lot of free space in the water and just concentrated on finding some feet in front of me to catch a draft. I looked at my watch at the halfway point and was at 38 minutes. I knew that the return trip is always slower because of the current, so I concentrated on keeping my effort up and staying on people's feet to draft. About 1/4 of the way through the return trip, I got pummeled by the freight train which is the fast age group women. These chicks were serious and I got punched in the head more than by any guy in the race. It didn't take me long to decide to get off of the buoy line and move about 10 yards to the left. I exited the swim in 1:26. I was pleased with that as it was two minutes faster than the practice swim seven days earlier. Afterwards, looking at my Garmin file, I could see that I was much less "zig-zaggy" than in the practice swim, as well.T1 was uneventful - I had a great volunteer who helped me with my bike gear and also put all of my swim gear in the T1 bag for me. I made the mandatory jog around the pier (so that everyone has the same distance to travel in transition, no matter where their bike is racked), grabbed my bike, and was off.
The bike starts with a 7-mile loop in town before heading out on the Queen K. At the end of this loop is a steep climb up Palani Rd. (also known and Pay and Save hill to Kona veterans) and this is a great place for spectators since we're moving slowly. It's also a no-passing zone for safety. I saw Dana, Abbey, and Callie about 3/4 of the way up the hill. As I was waving to them, another guy tried to squeeze between me and a rider about 2 1/2 feet to my left (in the no-passing zone). He brushed my left arm, and since that was the only one holding on to the bike (my right arm was waving), I lost my balance and started making a 90 degree left turn across the very crowded Palani Rd. I hit one rider's rear tire with my front tire; luckily he stayed upright but it didn't help my situation. I ended up doing a low-speed fall on my left side. I was somehow able to unclip my left foot on the way down and broke most of my fall. I landed a bit on my left hand/wrist, but nothing serious. I popped up, saw that my bike was fine, and took off again, not too shaken. Dana later said that a female fell into the grass median during the melee but that she was fine as well, which I was very glad to hear. One thing that really struck me was that as I was getting up, one of the physically-challenged athletes passed and asked if I was ok. Here he is, a paraplegic, trudging up Palani hill in his race wheelchair, asking if I'm ok. That act stuck with me for much of the race and was really motivating. I hope that good karma came back to him. As I got out on the Queen K, I thought about my fall and thought that if that's going to be my big mishap for the day, that it was not too bad and I'm glad to have it out of the way. One mental game that I played all day long was that any time a negative thought entered my head, I chose to turn it into a positive one. That helped a lot.
The winds for the bike turned out to be the "normal" race day winds, meaning a nice tailwind through mile 40 on the Queen K, then a heavy crosswind turning into a headwind on the climb to Hawi, then a strong tailwind turning into a crosswind on the descent from Hawi, then a headwind on the Queen K from miles 80-105. The Hawi winds were strong, but nothing like they can be when you hear of riders getting blown off the road into the lava fields. I'd say 30mph-ish (they have been known to gust as high as 60mph). We hit a strong rainstorm on the climb to Hawi, which felt good and cooled things off, but visibility was very low. The rain was gone by the time we came back through. It's interesting how many different weather patterns exist simultaneously on the island at different locations. They said that the temperature was one of the hottest races on record.
I knew that the last 30 miles on the Queen K were going to be difficult, especially mentally. This is the part of the race where people start to lose concentration and fade. Add the stiff headwind and hills and it can be demoralizing. At the 85-mile mark, I decided to hit the "lap" button on my Garmin and spend the next hour concentrating only on riding my goal watts and nailing my nutrition and hydration. It was getting very hot, especially on the climbs, because you didn't have the airflow that you do at higher speeds. I was sure to take two water bottles and one Gatorade Endurance at each aid station. I would put the first water bottle and Gatorade in my bottle cages, then use the second one to douse myself to stay cool. Then I had the one in the cage to do the same between aid stations. The fact that I was so regimented about staying cool really helped throughout the rest of the bike as well as the run. As the road bends around the island, the headwind turns into a cross/tailwind for the last few miles, which is a nice reprieve. I dropped my bike off in T2, changed into my running shoes, and was off. I completed the bike in 6:13, or 18.0 mph average.
My "long run pace", which is roughly marathon pace plus 30-60 seconds is a 9:15 mile. The Endurance Nation guidance is to run the first 6 miles at long run pace plus 30 seconds/mile, then see about picking it up to the long run pace. That's for a run in normal conditions. In Kona, with the heat and humidity, the name of the game is to keep your core body temperature and heart rate down and forget about the pace. If your goal pace is resulting in too high of a heart rate, you're going to pay in the second half of the run and have a very long day of walking ahead of you. The name of the game is to keep the heart rate down and to slow down as little as possible as the run progresses.
In the first couple of miles, I was very pleased to see that my heart rate was low, even though I was running at a faster-than-planned 9:30 pace. Knowing that pushing the pace early would yield very bad things later, I forced myself to slow down and even inserted a few 15-step walk breaks to "reset." After the first 6 miles, I was right on my 9:45 goal pace. This included the EN protocol of walking 30 steps at each aid station (one every mile) as you grab fluids and ice. Patrick also tested a new idea in IM Texas last May that worked great - taking a Ziploc bag on the run to hold ice. By having the volunteers dump ice in the bag every mile, I always had it at my disposal to put under my hat, down my back, or in my shorts (think femoral artery). That was critical in keeping my temperature and heart rate down.
I saw Dana and the girls at miles 1 and 9 and that was a huge boost. At mile 9 I said to Dana "I feel WAY too good." But mile 10 is that climb up Palani, after which I felt less good than I did a mile earlier. Miles 10-16 are out on the Queen K and are a lot more desolate than the first 10 miles, which take place in town where there are tons of cheering spectators. Miles 16-19 go down into the Natural Energy Lab, and 19-25 head back the Queen K to town.
As I headed out the Queen K, I knew that it was going to be a trek, so I concentrated on staying cool, keeping my pace, and just ticking off the miles. I wasn't thinking about a whole lot, mainly preparing myself for later when I knew things would get really hard. I felt decent as I turned down the energy lab, but it was definitely getting harder to keep the pace. In miles 16-19, my pace started to slip to 10:00/10:30 miles and I was inserting more walk breaks. I did remain disciplined in that when I allowed myself a walk break, it would be for 15 or 20 steps, no more. No wholesale walking. I never wanted to give myself that mental "out." I had to stay accountable for a specific number of steps.
Miles 20-24 were the hardest. It was getting dark, and I knew that mile 24 would be hard - it's a climb back to the top of Palani. After you hit Palani, you're home free. One downhill mile with the promise of the finish and Mike Reilly's voice in the distance. I treated miles 20-24 as a 4-mile "race" where I had to keep my pace under 11 minutes. By that point I had calculated that even if I averaged 11-12 minute miles that I would break 12 hours and 30 minutes - way ahead of my 13-hour pre-race goal. If I would get to .4 or .5 mile and was faster than an 11 minute pace for that mile, I would reward myself with 20 steps of walking. As it got completely dark, I concentrated on my pace and not tripping over anything. Those miles got emotional - I was thinking about my Dad who passed away the end of August and the conversation we had right before he died when he said how proud he was of me. Then I realized it's even harder to run/breathe when you're getting choked up, so I moved on to other good thoughts about Dana and the girls. At mile 24, I was grabbing water at an aid station and realized that I was passing Sean Astin, the actor who played "Rudy," as he was headed out the Queen K. I told him "great job" and continued up the last hill.
The final mile of the run was magnificent as I ran back into town and knew that the end was in sight. I could hear the crowd, the music, and Mike Reilly in the distance. When I made the final turn onto Ali'i Drive, I entered one of the most amazing finishing stretches in the sport. The street was lined with fans all cheering my name. They were so far into the road that there was only about a 4-foot wide path to go through. I saw Dana and the girls cheering in this stretch. When I entered the finish chute, everyone was cheering and banging on the banners. Then as I crossed the finish line, Mike Reilly yelled right on cue: "Doug Herr, YOU... ARE... AN IRONMAN!" The most famous phrase in the sport, coined by Mike decades ago – the one every Ironman athlete will give anything to hear.
My marathon was a 4:29, with a total finish time of 12:22. This beat my even my most optimistic expectations. I am beyond thrilled that I was given this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to race in Kona and made the most of it and did not squander any of it. Who knows if I will ever be back there, but in any case that day now moves into fourth place in my list of "best days of my life," right behind my wedding day and the birth of our girls. I only wish it wasn’t over.
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Comments
Doug, big congrats on a really well executed race! As a first timer as well I know how you felt about the whole experience and not wanting it to end. I didn't know about your Dad but am sure he was intensely proud and watching you on race day. It was great seeing you out on the course including your comment "good conditions huh" right before we hit the headwind back in! It was a pleasure spending time with you, Dana and your girls. Enjoy your rest time!
Congratulations on putting together a great effort throughout the day both physically and mentally. I am sorry to hear about the passing of your Father, and am certain that he would be pleased with all your hard work.
Hope that you are recovering well.Doug,
Your race report is great. Your race was Awesome! You really nailed everything.
Wow. Those last two paragraphs say it all. I'm so glad you had one of those "perfect moments" in that race. Sunshine and smiles saved up for a rainy day...