Honu 70.3: the first time the distance was the point

The week before this race I kept asking myself why I'd signed up, what kind of crazy idea did I have to make me want to punish myself like this? It boiled down to fear, I was scared of the unknown and the magnitude of the race I was about to attempt.

How I got here

I did a couple of Olympic distance triathlons in 2005 and 2006 and didn't really like them, was just looking for ways to keep exercising and staying in shape after leaving active duty Army. In 2014 Michelle and I did the Honolulu Triathlon and Tin Man with some training but not nearly enough for those 3+ hour efforts. We suffered through those and it didn't stick again. Then I turned 50 and got arm-twisted into running a marathon by Michelle. We did a half-marathon first to make sure we could and then ran the marathon in December 2022.

I got addicted to running training for the marathon and afterwards couldn't stop thinking about the next challenge. Signed up for the Hawaii 70.3 (half distance ironman) two weeks later and spent that spring on the bike: the Haleiwa Metric Century in April, a 50-mile ride and a 10-mile run in May, and the Honolulu Triathlon two weeks prior as the dress rehearsal. Written down, that looks like a plan but it didn't feel like one. It felt like winging it but one thing just kept leading to the next all the way up to race day.

I did all of it on the Felt road bike I already owned. I didn't see the point of getting a triathlon bike if this race was going to be 'one and done.' The tri bike came a month later.

It was a Felt F60 from 2004, not a light bike, bought when I was a younger man trying triathlon once or twice and not liking it. Two friends came with me, Ed and Michael, who signed up the minute I told them, and we trained together on the weekends all spring. On race morning we were up at 2:30 in Kona for the 45-minute drive to Waikoloa.

The course

Honu is the Big Island's 70.3, and it's one of the harder 70.3 races (not that I had any prior experiences to know the difference). The swim is 1.2 miles in the ocean off Waikoloa at first light, and that's the easy part. The bike is 56 miles up the coast to Hawi and back through the lava fields. There's no shade, the wind comes straight off the water, and the road to Hawi climbs about 2,400 feet before you hit the turn around. Then you run a half marathon starting late morning, in the summer heat, with almost nowhere to hide.

The run is two loops through the golf course at the Fairmont Orchid and out a paved road through the lava that people call Hell's Kitchen, and before the second loop you run right past the finish line, watching other people turn down the chute while you go out for six more miles. Ice water over the head at every aid station, keep drinking, keep the electrolytes and the gels going, and keep moving.

This race is why we call heat the fourth sport on this site. Everything we say about humidity, early alarms, salt, and running the first third of the race at an easy pace comes from training for Honu and from watching what it does to people who didn't plan for the midday sun.

The day

Michelle was there supporting and I had friends racing, and that mattered more than I expected. A first long-course race is a long time to be alone with your thoughts, especially since Ironman doesn't allow earbuds or headphones to listen to music. Having people out on the course and at the finish encouraging me and cheering me on really made a huge difference.

The official splits tell it better than I can: 48 minutes in the water, ten minutes in the first transition, three and a half hours on the bike into that wind, and a 2:16 half marathon in the heat. I respected the heat from the first pedal stroke and didn't let the bike get away from me, and that's the only reason the run was survivable. The people walking by mile four weren't less fit than I was, they just left more out there on the bike course.

I finished. Not to qualify for anything but to prove to myself that I still had it in me to climb mountains and accomplish something I never imagined I could ever do.

What it changed

This was the first race where the distance itself was the whole point. Not the birthday, not the pace, not somebody else's day. The next question was if I'd ever do that again and for 2 months the answer was a resounding 'NO!' My wife Michelle had something to say about that of course, and I found myself signing up for this race again because she wanted us to complete it together.

6:48:03 was my total time, 53rd in my age group. I've come back every year since, and the 2024, 2025, and 2026 pages show what a few more years of building fitness and gaining experience does to a 70.3 time.