2023 Ironman World Championships, Kona – Saturday 14th October 2023 - Louise Sinclair

Prior to Ironman Cork in August, I knew about Kona of course, but it had never even crossed my mind that it would even be a possibility. Consequently, on qualification there was little time to research the course and plan given it was only eight weeks away. Paul kindly send across a full page of Kona info which proved invaluable over the coming weeks. Most prominent of those tips being number one which was that it was going to be expensive and shopping around would be futile.

Paul had suggested arriving as early as possible so we arrived out Friday 6th October, a long 40 hours after leaving home. I’m very glad we did as it allowed for a full week’s tapering and some rest in the sun. I was awake very early Saturday morning so built the bike and was out on the Queen K before 7am. It had a fantastic road surface but had much potential for a heat-fest on race day. Sunday was the Ho’ala 3.8km training swim. The swim is a funny one for me – I’ve been a swimmer since school (long before running and cycling) but I worry about it the most. I am very glad I did it as firstly, I realised that I don’t actually need a wet suit; secondly, as suspected I really don’t like wet suits; and lastly, swim skins rip your neck to bits. Swim nerves were calmed for the rest of the week. Monday was an easy 75 minute run – harder than normal in the heat but not as bad as anticipated. The rest of the week was just a pleasant cycle of training, chugging water with PH 1500, purchasing unnecessary merchandise and gazing enviously at very expensive bikes.

Friday came around all too quickly and it was time for racking the bike and dropping off the bike and run bags. I was absolutely mesmerised with the finish area – lights, finish line, tents etc looked amazing and out with the realms of anything I had ever envisaged. Transition was incredible, the sheer number of bikes and tents cleverly located on the pier to utilise the limited space was unbelievable. I felt as though I had scoffed a thesaurus trying to describe the set-up and atmosphere. After checking-in all the gear, I went for dinner and I was in bed by 6.30pm. This was probably the earliest bedtime ever but was well worth it when I woke up the next morning before the alarm.

As always, I had a simple plan in my mind – survive the swim; hold a steady but maintainable pace on bike (as per Paul’s watts target); run between aid stations on the run and bag the medal at the end. Finally, no heroics and hopefully not be last over the finish line.

On Saturday morning, it was a 1km walk to transition from our hotel which although in the dark, was warm and dry. After transition closed at 6.15am, it was time to stand back and watch the pros starting and soak up the atmosphere. The 45-49 age group was last start at 7.20am, which I was very glad about. I didn’t need to worry about later waves swimming over the top of me but still had plenty feet to catch and sit upon. Lucy Charles-Barclay came flying up the swim exit whilst we were waiting to enter the water – that gave me a swim time to aspire to! I had experimented earlier in the week and decided to scrap the pesky swim skin and go with my trusty SEC tri suit as any gains were in my opinion, negligible. The sea was calm with a very light, lazy swell – what a difference from Cork! The swim itself was uneventful – beautifully clear and most importantly, warm water and lots of fish to look at. On the way out from the shore, there were people around me, but I certainly wasn’t crowded even though I was on the inside next to the buoys, along with plenty drafting opportunities. After turning, I lost everyone. I couldn’t make my mind up whether I was just last or if I was off course even though logically thinking I wasn’t given I was tight to the buoys. I then spotted a few earlier wave swim caps and calmed down. It was a lonely haul back to the shore until the last 300m when it became jam-packed and a fight for space.

The exit was nicely carpeted and a short trot to transition where I was surrounded by volunteers offering towels, drinks and assistance. T1 went to plan and passed in a flurry of green-shirted volunteers shouting my number and pointing me to the mount line (thank goodness, as it was a maze).

Heading out on the bike, the legs were moving nicely and with the heat, the usual chilly and damp start was absent. I realised quickly that my Garmin was on strike, it wouldn’t switch on at all and the thought of cycling blind was disconcerting. I knew that I just had to get on with it and go on ‘puff factor’ and speed rather than watts. I was passed by many, many ladies – I wasn’t overly perturbed though as I hoped that I would pass them then on the run. One good thing about being a slow cyclist is that you are preserving the legs for the run (or that’s my line and I’ll stick to it). The landscape (long straight drags with no shelter) and wind was very similar to home albeit much, much hotter. The cycle out to the Hawi was on schedule and I was hopeful of a decent bike leg. After turning though, it was a headwind back and the heat was starting to drain me. When slowing off for an aid station, you could just feel the heat building up – probably the only time I can ever say that I was cooling off by speeding up! By 175km I was starting to feel wobbly and was so very glad that I didn’t have long left.

T2 was more or less empty but I was glad to see that there were still a number of empty bike slots so I definitely wasn’t last. I didn’t waste much time in T2, doing as much as I could on the hoof later (salt, painkillers etc) but I did take the time to put on fresh socks and slather my feet in Vaseline after some horrific blisters in Cork.

Setting off on the run, my average pace was decent albeit lower than a usual T2 exit. It didn’t last more than 0.5km and the first hill arrived which I had to walk. The plan had been to walk the aid stations but I swiftly realised that I would also need a between aid station walk as well. The runs were at a decent pace but I just couldn’t run for long. I did try to slow the pace down so I could run for longer but it didn’t work, I still could only run for the same distance - the heat was draining. I wouldn’t say that I felt bad with it, just that it was having an effect. The walk/run seemed to be working as on every run, I was picking off at least 3 or 4 ladies and my overall pace was remaining consistent. The first part of the course had lots of support, running through the town but then we headed up to the Queen K for the second visit of the day. By this time I’d had my fill of gel shots and alternated chicken broth and crisps at the aid stations. The chicken broth was fantastic, it settled the stomach nicely after so much water and sugar all day. At every aid station I chucked a handleful of ice down by bra which worked really well in cooling me down.

I hadn’t actually clicked before arriving in Kona that half the run would be in the pitch black with no street lights but was very glad when I managed to get a couple of small clip-on lights from the running shop. It was a bizarre experience albeit oddly reminiscent of home as many of my training runs are completed in the dark with no street lights in the back of beyond! I do think that it was maybe better in the dark as it was cooler and was so dark, I couldn’t see where the turns were. I reckon you can’t be mentally destroyed by what you can’t see. No records were broken on the marathon front for sure, we’ll leave that for another day. I really enjoyed the one lap course, multiple laps are torture. Official time was 14:38:38, not quite the 14 hours I’d hoped.

Kona isn’t a climate for heroics – I’d gone all the way to Hawaii and wanted home with a medal. I am very glad to say that I bagged it (along with tonnes of merch) and that was the goal. To come home without that frying pan sized medal would have been deeply disappointing.

What’s next is the big question, how do you follow Kona? I may be on two weeks’ rest but the mind is in overdrive as to what to do next year – another full, retire from fulls, have a break from fulls for a year…. I don’t honestly know but I am very sure that Paul will keep me right! I’d love to break the 14 hours but I think I’ll try that somewhere a little cooler albeit not too much cooler as I think I like this warm water malarkey.

Kona was an unbelievably, amazing experience, I thoroughly enjoyed the race and absolutely loved the entire experience all week. It was way beyond anything I had ever envisaged whether it was the location, the race itself, the camaraderie between athletes, the support, the medal …. the list goes on. However, for me probably the best bit was managing to wear triathlon gear for 10 days without feeling completely scruffy compared to the people around me!