Last Sunday was the annual Haleiwa Metric Century Ride, hosted as always by the Hawaii Bicycling League. The ride begins at Kaiaka Bay Park in Haleiwa and passes several iconic surfing spots, including Waimea Bay and Sunset Beach. It’s place on the calendar make it a perfect shake-down for anyone doing Ironman 70.3 Hawaii, aka Honu, and there was a bunch of us doing just that.
In the past I rode the MCR on my Cervelo TT bike to get a better feel for Honu. Riding the TT bike in the aero position makes for reduced visibility and poor handling, and the MCR, like any group ride, can get pretty dicey. This year I chose my road bike, for those reasons, and I was glad I did. Riding a road bike is so much more comfortable, especially when it comes to dodging potholes and chickens running across the road. Yes, we had chickens. No dogs. Turtles on the beach, though.
As I get older, I find that training becomes more of a balancing act. The line between too little and too much gets narrower every year. The week before the MCR my wife and I performed with the U.H. Gamelan Ensemble on Saturday night, and the following morning I rode Pineapple Hill on the North Shore. Pineapple Hill involves a long, grinding climb from Haleiwa, about 1,000 feet at a 4% grade. The climb is slow and relentless, while the decent is either exhilarating or terrifying, depending on how you feel about going 40 mph on a bicycle. I was expecting a bad day, a rehearsal of how it feels riding up to Hawi after a long, hard swim. It turned out to be a terrific day. My legs felt fantastic. But I paid a price. Throughout the following week I felt tired. I cut short Tuesday’s HIIT workout and skipped entirely Thursday’s planned long swim. I doubt that I was rested and ready for the MCR.
I must admit that my plan for this ride was a bit foggy. I wanted it to be just another long training day, capped at five hours. But I also wanted to practice holding race pace. More precisely, to get a better feel for what my race pace might be. I knew that if I rode too much at race pace I would be digging myself a deep fatigue hole, which I already did the previous week. I need these last few weeks before Honu to be consistent and focused.
I suspected that my wrists and arms would be a limiting factor. Despite putting in some training time on the road bike, it wasn’t enough. My arms gave out long before my legs. On the other end, so to speak, I was pleased that I never suffered from hot spots at saddle contact points, which have plagued me in the past. By the time I got to the Sunset Beach aid station I knew it was time to turn around. I did not make five hours, but I did get some good practice pushing the pace and avoided wrecking myself. I was still a bit tired Monday and Tuesday, but by the time I did a swim/run combo at Ala Moana on Wednesday morning I felt great.
My wife Pattie is still affected by her lengthy bout with ovarian cancer. My prostate cancer was detected early, by an elevated PSA in my annual physical blood work. I choose to do radiation therapy, five sessions over thirteen days in mid to late March. Doctor’s orders were to take it easy, no hard training, no going to work. I guess he wanted my immune system to be uncompromised. After the first three sessions I only felt some fatigue. The last two had a greater impact, more fatigue and difficulty with – as in painful - urination. My guess is the radiation caused some swelling and inflammation down there. That took a couple weeks to dissipate.
As April approached, I eased back into training while waiting for my gut to settle down. My first long ride was a Pineapple Hill session on Sunday, April 13, on the TT bike, followed by another a week later on the road bike. The following Sunday was the MCR. So, not enough long rides to be properly prepared, and Honu may be affected as well.
Something else to consider is the lingering, possibly long term impact my cancer has on my body. My treatment was not nearly as intense as what Pattie went through. Still, all that radiation ripping through cells is bound to leave a mark. I’m surprised I don’t glow at night.
To be honest, I did consider dropping out of Honu this year. I didn’t, because I have embraced a goal of doing the best that I can. Outcome goals are nice, but they can be a trap. At any point in the race, if you think your finishing goal has slipped away and is no longer achievable, the overwhelming response is to give up. Nowhere is this more apparent than when a race leader is caught and passed near the finish. In almost every case you can see them slow down. Once they know that winning is no longer possible, that they have been beaten, their brain refuses to push any more. The same thing applies to a simple goal of just finishing. Honu is a hard race, generally accepted as one of the most difficult half Ironman races. If my goal is to just finish, and I begin to think I’ll miss the cutoff time, there is a good chance I’ll slow down. I will be disappointed by my result. My goal, then, is to look back at the finish and know that, given the circumstances I faced, I did everything I could, that I gave it my best.
Recently, Pattie gave me an ornament to hang from my training backpack. It reads, "You never fail until you stop trying." Good words to live by.