Bumps on the Road to Kona

The best-laid plans sometimes unravel.

t’s race week at the 2012 Hawaii Ironman World Championships, where 1,900

Greek statues have sprung to life. The triathlon world’s best of the best are in

Kailua Kona, on the Big Island, Hawaii, for the annual 2.4-mile swim, 112mile bike, and 26.2-mile run. About 110,000 athletes participated in the 2012 qualifying series, and these are the ones who made the cut.

Fit and tanned, they’re performing their last-minute bike checks on the Queen K Highway, running by Ali’i Drive coffee shops, and swimming with the tropical fish in crystal-blue water in Kailua Bay.

They have put in weekly averages of seven miles of swimming, 48 miles of running, and 225 miles of biking. They have peaked and tapered. They represent all 50 states and 64 countries and range from 19 to 82 years of age. They have gear that mere mortals can’t buy until 2013 and know how to execute flawless races—or So it appears.

Bryan Dunn, 44, Fountain Hills, Arizona

Financial analyst, Wells Fargo Bank 2012 Kona Finish Time: 9:48:54

less like a transition area and more like Occupy Tempe. I had enough stuff laid out around my bike to bivouac for a week. Having survived the 1,500-meter swim, I ran to the small town I had created beneath my wheel, spent about five minutes sorting myself out, and then clip-clopped in my bike shoes to the mount line, where I summarily fell over while attempting to clip into my pedals.

Next was my first Kona, in 2007. Having mastered the art of not falling over at the mount line, I had graduated to leaving my shoes clipped into the pedals in the first transition area. My transition area was now a shining example of brevity

and efficiency. I grabbed my bike and in bare feet sprinted for the mount line. As I executed a somewhat awkward flying mount and went to slip my feet into the shoes, I felt there was something wrong. I stopped, removed myself from the bike, and leaned it up against the barricade. A bemused woman was standing on the other side watching my predicament. I looked down and realized my folly. [had clipped the right shoe into the left pedal and vice versa. As I unclipped them to get it sorted out, I looked up at my audience and said, “Well, that didn’t save any time!”

Jennifer Sloan, 35, Tulsa, Oklahoma

Attorney 2012 Kona Finish Time: 10:16:55

© Cathy Tibbetts

A Bryan Dunn gearing up for the annual Kona Underpants Run.

For my first open-water swim in a triathlon, I went to a dive shop and rented a weighted wetsuit. It looked like overalls and had Velcro straps that came over the shoulder. It had weights in it, and the whole chest just scooped up water. I’m pretty competitive, and when I saw a group ahead of me on the swim, in my mind’s eye I thought I was catching the men’s group. Then I realized I was dead last. I felt like I was swimming as hard as I could and getting nowhere and was exhausted when I got out of the water.

For my first Ironman, which was Wisconsin 2001, a friend advised me to put food in my special-needs bag that would sound good to me halfway through the bike. I went to McDonald’s, bought two cheeseburgers, froze them, and put them in my bag. They were gross—partially frozen and soggy when I got to my special-needs bag. I did not do that again. A Jennifer Sloan strolling along Alii Drive.

Travis Funk, 34, Norwalk, Connecticut

Engineer 2012 Kona Finish Time: 11:04:14

I started doing triathlons when I was 8, and I was doing one of the IronKids series that they had at the time. I had a mesh tank top that was my race shirt, and as I pulled it over my head after the swim, it got caught in my braces. It was all tangled around my neck and stuck to my face. I didn’t care—there was a race going on, and I was doing it! I tried stuffing my singlet up under my bike helmet so I could keep going, but it didn’t work. My parents were taking a video of me at the time, and you can see the camera go down as they ran to help me get untangled.

: : A Travis Funk head t fe “He was in the bike corral next to the Tavis FUNKE NES OUL TOF a Prerace

. . bike ride. fence when his yellow mesh shirt got caught

in his braces,” Travis’s mother, Jill Harmon, reflected. “We couldn’t help him because it was against the rules, but three or four volunteers were instantly there trying to help him get untangled. He looked like he was ready to cry.

“T yelled at him to just pull it down so he could get his helmet on. I think they eventually just ripped it.

“He had his head and arm through one armhole and did the whole bike that way. He never got it straightened out until he was on the run and said it had hurt to bike that way.

“When he was in second or third grade, he was looking at one of our triathlon magazines and came out of his room and asked where Denver was. He said he wanted to do the IronKids race there. I asked if he could swim that far, and we made sure we got him back into swimming lessons. We wanted to go somewhere on vacation that summer anyway and hadn’t been to Denver, so that’s what we did!”

Susan Nixon, 44, Waimea, Hawaii

Starbucks District Manager 2012 Kona Finish Time: 13:00:08

We don’t wear wetsuits in Hawaii, but for a lot of races on the Mainland you need one. I was doing Vineman in California one year and had procrastinated about

© Cathy Tibbetts

Denise Dorner

Susan Nixon on Kamakahonu Beach.

getting one. On my way out the door, I pulled out an ancient wetsuit from years ago when I did Ironman Canada, when I was probably a little thinner. And I have had a kid since then.

The wetsuit was tight, but I managed OK on the swim. The problem was, I had forgotten how to get it off. At Ironman Canada they had wetsuit strippers to help you, but at Vineman I was on my own. I pulled it down over my shoulders and then made the mistake of pulling it down over both hands at the same time. They got locked inside of my wetsuit and were completely stuck. Icould not get my hands out of my wetsuit. I found a high school kid volunteering, and he helped me pull it off. And then I did the very same thing with my feet, and I got stuck flopping on the ground with my feet trapped inside. The high school kid was gone, so I hopped all around the transition area trying to find somebody to help me get it off. It was the longest transition I ever had in a race, about 20 minutes. You know how triathletes follow your race online. It looked like my swim had taken forever. Everybody asked what had happened on my swim because they knew I had been training so hard. I had to tell everybody, “I got stuck in my wetsuit.”

Bill Greineisen, 59, Volcano, Hawaii

Photographer 2012 Kona Finish Time: 14:27:21

I have two pairs of running shoes that are identical. Last year I was in the middle of a triathlon, jumped off the bike, sat down, put on my socks, put on one running shoe, started putting on the other shoe, and thought, What is going on here?

4 Bill Greineisen racing the 2009 Hawaii lronman.

© Cathy Tibbetts

I discovered I had brought two left shoes. Not wanting to look like a complete ass and tell everybody what I had done, I put one of the shoes on the right foot and kept going. The funny thing is, I wasn’t really any slower.

Rachel Jastrebsky, 25, Chesapeake, Virginia

PhD Candidate in Cephalopod Biomechanics 2012 Kona Finish Time: 10:36:59

Tronman Florida was my first Ironman, and I was on the beach ready to start the swim. The bike transition area was two minutes from closing when I looked down and realized that I was holding in my hands all of my bike nutrition, which was supposed to be on my bike. In an absolute panic, I ran back to the transition area, where the volunteer told me I couldn’t enter through the exit and that I would have to go all of the way around to the other side. I begged and pleaded, and she let me through to put it with my bike. It was my nutrition for half of the race.

A Rachel Jastrebsky rocks the annual Kona Underpants Run.

Caroline Smith, 41, Mandeville, Louisiana

Coach 2012 Kona Finish Time: 11:51:21

This was back when I was racing as a pro. The cleats on my bike shoes had totally worn out. I was first woman coming off the bike at the Gulf Coast Triathlon in Florida and was coming down the chute still going about 15 mph. My feet were out of my bike shoes and on top of them. I put my weight on my left foot to get off the bike and felt my shoe slip in the pedal. I thought I was going to crash so I slammed on the brakes, went over the handlebars, flew across the dismount line, and landed in a bloody mess in front of a huge crowd of people.

I had bought new cleats but had forgotten to put them on. But I did go on to win the race!

© Cathy Tibbetts

<4 Caroline Smith by Kailua Bay, location of the mass start of the Hawaii Ironman.

Diane Calloway, 46, Coral Springs, Florida

Coach, TriDi Multisport Training, www.triditraining.com 2012 Kona Finish Time: 15:08:14

As usual, I packed my car the night before with my helmet, goggles, running shoes, race-belt number, and so forth. I put my race number on my bike and made sure everything was in working order. I went to bed and maybe slept three hours and could not fall back to sleep. I had breakfast with a large coffee and headed out on my onehour drive to get to the race. I unpacked my gear and headed toward transition to set everything up.

When J arrived at transition, I realized that I did not have my bike to rack. My heart starts racing and thumping now. Hoping I left it on the back of my car, I rush out of transition and run through the parking lot to check. I arrive at my car, and there is no bike on my bike rack. I left my bike at home! I couldn’t believe it. Now I am really panicked. Without thinking twice, I jump in my car and start my one-hour trip back home to get my bike (not thinking one hour there, then one hour to get back, that is two hours, hmm, it’s a sprint race.) The race will be over by the time I get back, but who was thinking straight at that moment? Obviously not me.

So I get home, grab my bike out of the garage, and head back on the interstate in hopes of lining up at the starting line (still not doing the math). By now, I have to go to the bathroom so bad. My coffee had kicked in: uh-oh! Just when I thought things could not get worse, I see a blue light flashing and hear sirens from behind. Yes, Di, you are now being pulled over for speeding. A gazillion things were going through my mind at this point. I remembered my friend was pulled over on her way to a race one time, and the officer said to her, “What’s the tush, young lady, are you headed to a race?” My friend responded, “As a matter of fact, sir, 1am.” The officer let her go. I was so hoping that would be how my scene would play out. But no chance.

Diane Calloway with Kamakahonu
Beach in the background.

The officer, in his stoic voice, asked me for my license and registration and said, “Why are you speeding 35 miles over the limit?” At this point, I felt like my stomach was about to bust from needing to go to the bathroom so bad. Here comes my little white lie. The first thing out of my mouth was, “Officer, I am pregnant, and the baby is pressing on my bladder, and I am trying to get to the next rest stop to get to the bathroom.” He shined his flashlight into the car, looked at all my tri equipment in the car, my bike, and then me. Needless to say, I don’t think he believed me. I ended up with a $285 ticket (ouch!). Double ouch: I still had to go to the bathroom. I thought to myself, How unlucky can anyone be? (laughing!)

It turns out that I actually was very lucky. I did make it to the bathroom (whew!) and made it to the start line. My wave was the last to go in the lineup, and the race started late. I arrived at the start line in the nick of time, and I was cracking up throughout the entire race. A world of emotions—one triathlon—so, what’s new? Keep Tri-ing! Mp