Three Weeks in
Paradise
The Deca-Ironman Triathlon World Championship
Hawaii. 13th to 27th November 2004
24 mile swim - 1120 mile bike - 262 mile run
by Arthur Puckrin (GB and Cleveland BikeTraks Tri Club)
After my 5th place in the World Cup
Triple-Ironman Championship in Virginia I was pleased to receive an invitation
to compete in the World Deca-Ironman Championship to be held in Hawaii during
November 2004. After a 30 hour flight from Teesside we were met by our host, the
organiser Chet "the Jet" Blanton. On our flight out the plane had flown low over
the "badlands" of South Dakota - very spectacular canyons, ravines, rocky
waterless wasteland - real John Wayne country which extended for thousands of
square miles. I would not have wanted to trek though that. Apart from this the
flight was uneventful and we arrived very tired at a hot and humid Honolulu. I
certainly never expected that my triathlon career would lead me to Honolulu or
to surfing on Waikiki Beach.
Despite two days without sleep I found it difficult to sleep and was up making
breakfast at 3 am. Fortunately I soon settled into the life - up at 5 am for a
pre-dawn cycle ride over the Diamond Head pass, where in the darkness the
surfers were already launching their boards. This was the only time of day when
it was reasonably cool. Then I had a 30 minute swim before my second breakfast
of the day. Most of the day I spent eating and carb-loading before an early bed
after sunset, ready for an early start the next day.
On Thursday we went out to the disused part of the Pearl Harbour Naval Base at
which the event was to be held. We were dismayed to find the site was overrun
with woodlice, giant centipedes, scorpions and other creatures and also there
was no food, water or sanitation. The island had been the setting for the film
"Jurassic Park" and all we needed were prehistoric monsters coming out of the
undergrowth to make our "happiness" complete. Our first task was to visit a
nearby supermarket to scour the waste bins for old cardboard boxes to make our
tents more habitable.
Fortunately I had taken the precaution of taking an airbed with me so the nights
would not be too uncomfortable, however it was so hot and humid it was almost
impossible to sleep. The first night, just before the race started, I awoke
drenched with sweat and suffering from heat stroke. I got up, covered my head
with ice for an hour in an attempt to cool down. I was about to withdraw,
clearly conditions were impossible.
However at 12 noon on Saturday 13th November I started to swim. After coming all
this way I had to at least give it a try. It was incredibly hot and humid. After
2˝ hours swimming I came out exhausted. I sat at the side of the pool in the
shade, drinking cool drinks. I would have to withdraw. Still, I could enjoy two
weeks holiday in Hawaii. After 4 hours it started to get dark and became cooler.
"Should I have another swim?". "Why not?". Another hour later, again exhausted,
I came out. The Irish coach had a go at me. "Your problems are psychological,
not physical", he said. "Do it in 1000m stints, then have a rest and do another
1000m". I decided to give it one last go and found that now it was night and
cooler I was swimming quite well.
After 26 hours and 45 minutes I got out of the pool. I was unsteady on my feet
and had lost a lot of skin on my back after all that time in the water but I got
onto the bike and rode onto the race track. I was a bit unsteady but rode for 10
miles to get used to the course. I decided I had better have something to eat
before it got completely dark and then as I was about to resume cycling one of
the people manning the computer timing equipment said to me as a casual aside
"Well, we are going now, the machine is going to be switched off, you will have
to manually count your laps". I was astounded at this and said "The race has
been going for 36 hours, it has another 12 days to go, you can't do that". She
said "Well don't shout at me, we haven't been paid, it's not our fault". I
shouted to everyone to stop riding as they finished the lap. Obviously there was
no point in riding if the laps were not being counted. We had an urgent meeting
with Steve Foster, the joint organiser with Chet and owner of the timing
equipment. Steve told us he was not going to switch off the machine but that we
would have to man it and supply and cook our own food as the volunteers promised
by Chet had not appeared. After some discussion we organised a rota for this and
the race continued, although under a cloud.
It was now completely dark, a strong wind was blowing and tree branches were
coming down onto the course. Although Chet had promised the course would be
fully lit there was a complete absence of lights. After one lap I decided it was
too dangerous and retired for the night. Desmond Kiernan of Ireland was not so
lucky, he was hit by a falling tree on his helmet and was fortunate to escape
serious injury. Next day at 6 am as soon as it became light I started my ride.
It soon became very hot and I rode with a bag of ice in my helmet in an attempt
to keep cool.
Most of the competitors had arrived with either their wives, girlfriends,
mothers, fathers or clubmates as support crew but double and triple Ironman
World Record Holder Louis Wildpanner from Austria had rather incongruously a
support crew of 15 and had designs on the world record. In the conditions I
thought this was much too optimistic, but an unknown Australian, Brock McKinley,
made this purely academic as he blew Louis and everyone else away on the cycle
course. At times he was averaging 27 mph for the 1120 mile route and he
established a big lead over Louis in second position. I rode with Brock for a
few laps and complimented him on his riding. He thought Louis would overtake him
on the run but I told him not to be so sure because Louis had won all his races
on the cycle leg. This time he had been completely blown away and his confidence
would surely be in tatters. If Brock kept his nerve and a steady speed he must
have a good chance and probably his only chance of becoming world champion. He
told me that he had only been able to enter the race at the last minute when his
brother and support crew had been posted to Pearl Harbour, thus saving him the
expense of an air ticket. Sure enough Louis retired after 71 miles of the run
leaving Brock with a 54 mile lead over the next competitor. But alas Brock had
also exhausted himself and struggled to eventually finish in third place.
Meanwhile I was finding conditions very difficult. It was impossible to sleep
during the day in the intense heat. The coolest place was on the bike when at
least there was some wind to cool you down. Every night the mosquitoes made a
meal of your body. The heat was such that my feet were swollen and I had to cut
my cycling shoes to ease blisters on my toes. Before I had reached 200 miles I
developed saddle sores but fortunately I was able to change to my spare saddle
and that made things easier, or at least less painful. The days went by,
"Eventually these two weeks will come to an end" I told myself, "in the
meantime, keep pedalling".
Nearly every night, just about midnight, a white rabbit would appear at the far
end of the lap. He ran across the road in front of Desmond and was nearly rabbit
pie. I waited for him to say "I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date",
but he remained silent! There were also many mongoose on the course and I
thought one of them would eat the rabbit, but he stayed alive and kept appearing
in the same place at the same time.
I started each day usually about 3.30am with 2 eggs, fried bread and 2 pancakes
made by Chris our physio who had found new fame as a stand-in cook. I could only
eat cold food later in the day due to the extreme heat. I survived on tinned
pears, melon, chicken sandwiches, chocolate bars from the cool box and Ritz
crackers. To drink I had orange juice, gatorade and tea.
The days and miles came and went. "Eventually this must come to an end" I
thought, and on Saturday evening it did. Off the bike and onto the run. The pain
in my backside would diminish, whereas the pain in my feet was about to begin. I
noticed that as they came off the bike those who ran the most “died” earliest,
so I decided to walk for at least the first two days to give my body a chance to
recover. Robert Holmes and I walked together in stout walking boots with a thick
sole to give our feet some protection from the heat of the track. This strategy,
which had been successful two years ago in Mexico did not work this time,
probably because it was hot 24 hours a day whereas in Mexico it was cold at
night.My feet blistered almost immediately, and I had to revert to my walking
sandals which I had hoped to keep for the last two days when my feet would have
swollen.
On the eighth day of our ordeal Pascal Jolly was disqualified for taking short
cuts across the track. He was caught “red-handed” when race organiser Chet
waited for him together with a witness half way along the short cut. This was
foolish behaviour as he only had to finish to become overall champion for 2004
as he had won three other races during the year. It was also unfortunate that
the first and second to finish later accused each other of taking the same short
cut but as there was no independent evidence the result was allowed to stand. We
only needed a major drug scandal now to bring the race into absolute disrepute
and although allegations were made, no doctor was present and nor were any drugs
tests carried out contrary to what was stated on the race prospectus.
Three days to go and I was now in a good position, going strongly and over half
way. Although my feet were blistered badly I was sure to finish, or so I
thought. Unfortunately my blisters became infected and walking very painful.
This slowed me down a lot and I fell behind, it was impossible to make up time
as I was going for nearly 24 hours a day.
The only time it became comparatively cool was in the early hours of the morning
between 4 am and 8 am when, due to the clear skies, you could admire the great
constellations of Orion, the mighty hunter of Greek mythology, and the Great
Bear, shining brightly in the sky above. Towards the end a full moon appeared
and shone, appropriately enough, on the “lunatics” endlessly circling the track
below. During the day, brightly coloured Cardinal birds with their red caps
entertained us by walking across the road as we passed.
Day 14 arrives at last, we finish at 12.45pm. My feet are in better condition
after I have taken antibiotics to kill the infection, but moving is still
painful. I cannot finish in time, but resolve to do as much as possible. I am
still strong, but with only 180 miles covered and 82 still to go the finish is
called and I cross the line for the last time. I examine my feet and ankles for
the first time in three days. I am horrified to discover they have swollen to
twice their normal size.
Still, for the last 14 days I have broken bread with the rest of the world. I
thank Steve Foster for his efforts in organising the race and for working the
timing equipment despite all the difficulties. He tells me “You people must be
sick”. Later he and his wife do not appear at the presentation and closing
ceremony, which is left to Chet Blanton. I thank him for his efforts, but for
him there would be no race and no chance to see Hawaii.
Thanks to Mary, my support crew who fed and watered me for 14 days and kept me
going.
Results:-
1. Mario Rodrigues, Mexico, 9 days 2 hours 38 minutes
2. Giacomo Maritati, Italy, 9 days 13 hours 54 minutes
3. Brock McKinley, Australia, 9 days 19 hours 19 minutes
11. Jason Sawyer, GB, 12 days 20 hours 21 minutes
12 Robert Holmes, GB, 13 days 4 hours 18 minutes
16. Suraya Oliver, GB, 13 days 12 hours 59 minutes
(1st lady and overall IUTA Ultra Distance Champion for 2004)
21 Arthur Puckrin, GB, 24mls swim / 1120mls bike / 180mls run in 14 days.