By T.J. Murphy
Oct. 20, 2006 -- Mix a supreme test of ultra-endurance with the scrutiny that triathlon's greatest event incurs, channel it through 1800 well-trained triathletes on the day before the race, and what do you get? The slow, sluggish strain of the final hours before the start of the Hawaii Ironman.
It's an interesting thing that warms up slowly throughout the year and then, during pre-race week before the Ironman World Championship, heats up to a discomforting level: the tension and pressure bleeding from the question, What the hell is going to happen on Saturday? An emotional time bomb has formed, and the ticking of the countdown gets louder and more disturbing with each passing hour. It doesn't help that there are nearly 2000 tapering triathletes in total who are all freaking out about the race, with very little (if any) use of exercise to help blow off the steam. The tension mixes with the warm, sticky air and Kona is transformed into a human zoo, with each athlete getting a taste of what it's like to be a caged animal.
Another factor adding heat to the experiment is the conjecture, and no one has it worse than the top pros. Imagine the small, humble Hawaiian village buzzing with hundreds of ongoing conversations erupting from the usual posed questions: Who's going to win? Who's going down in flames? Who looks too fat? Who looks to skinny? Who's calm and cool, relaxed and having a laugh? Who looks like they're about to spontaneously combust?
Yesterday's press conference cast a reflection on this dynamic. It was packed. The hotel ballroom was laden with print and web journalists, photographers and videographers from around the world, but also squeezed in were simply those caught up in the building tension of the coming race and wanting a peek at those most squarely planted on plank. You want to win this race? Sure, train your brains out, but, as Faris Al-Sultan said at the conference, everyone arrives in Kona at the ultimate peak level of fitness. What does that mean? It means to win you may have to take the kind of risk that, if you're very good and very lucky, will yield a heady moment in the sun when you jog down the chute slapping hands with spectators, resplendent with the glow of victory; or-and more likely-the risk may leave you clamoring to a roadside ditch of lava in defeat, off into the shadow to hurl up every last gram of energy bars and bananas you've been cramming down your throat.
With eight of the top finishers from last year's championship seated up front (understandably each one looking like they couldn't wait to get the hell out of there) and just 36 hours from the start of the race, the nervous tension was palpable. Each time Cam Widoff was asked a question-one was to describe what he learned in his 16 years doing the Ironman, another was to comment on how his biking was coming along-a note of belligerence coated his reply. It was as if people were asking him, "Do you really think you have the right to be here?" And then there's the story floating around the island about how Normann Stadler has been in a fury over quotes by Peter Reid in Cameron Elford's interview in the current issue of Triathlete magazine. Reid told Elford, "Normann is a classic Thomas Hellriegel. In 2004, he had the race of his life, and he'll be a top-five guy this year, but he'll never be on top again because he's a marked guy." According to one of his sponsors, Stadler read the quote and flipped. His sponsor said, "He called me after he read the story. I had to remind him that he had only so much energy to bring to Hawaii, and if he was going to have a nervous breakdown anytime people wrote or said something, he's going to have nothing left on race day."
How can you blame them? It's not like they're going to wake up on Saturday morning and trundle off for a day of games at the state fair. When the cannon fires, they'll be facing 140.6 miles of athletic effort made far more complicated by a sunshine, humidity and eerily powerful headwinds and cross winds. The water in which they swim will rock them into seasickness, and this year we can expect it to be worse than ever thanks to a 6.5 magnitude earthquake just six days prior, one with an epicenter that makes it look like the race course was the target.
Of course, there's a direct relationship between the pressure the race is charged with and the greatness of the race. The Ironman demands a fantastic effort underneath the scrutiny of an electron microscope. Right now, a matter of hours before the start of the race, everything feels like it's about to bust. This is what makes it great.