I flew to the Kona Coast four days early to adjust, acclimate, and practice on the course. Athletes from the Mainland, Japan, and other Hawaiian Islands are out in force, testing the course and swim start. As one guy said, "It's never too late to over-train". They have the same quest; to qualify. The Islanders are feeling pressure because of the cancellation of the Windward Triathlon in Oahu (previously the only other qualifier in Hawaii). For the Japanese, Keauhou, a 5 hr flight, is the closest qualifier besides Ironman Japan. And with the record number of Mainlanders attending, it isn't surprising that the constant inquiries are about who's here and who's good. A local bike shop owner summed it up, "In the past this has been an event. This year it's a race!"

Some friends also competing for slots are Brigid Kranz ('83 Ironman), Alisa Goughner (5 time Ironman) and Christine Heilman ('95 Ironman and '95 Keauhou winner).

In my 25-29 age group, 51 athletes are competing for 4 slots. I recognize a few I'm up against: Brent Imonen (3 time winner & course record holder), Shawn Drake of Colorado, Brooke Claireborne (4 time Ironman), and David Liotta (10 min faster than me at Wildflower)

My strategy for the race was to follow a detailed plan, trust my training, and keep my focus on God.

I researched the course, past times, and my own performances to create a detailed plan. It included sprinting 300 yds to stay with the fast swimmers, concentrating on maintaining 24mph on the bike, controlled breathing, forcing myself to eat/drink at proper intervals, running 6:40 pace and finishing with nothing left!

The specific training leading up to this race included many open water swims w/out a wetsuit, interval speed and strength training on the bike, marathon training, running hill repeats and training in warm clothes to simulate Hawaii's climate.

And focussing on God was most important because w/out him it's all just a roll of the dice. With my focus on God, I'm reminded that triathlon is for fun and not something to determine one's self-worth.

With all this in mind, I lined up with 450 triathletes at Keauhou Bay for the start of the race of my life. My friend, Brigid Kranz, was also geared up to race all out against the other top women going for the single slot in her division. My cousin, Kristen, is here from Sacramento to support us from the side.

It's low tide and many of us have cut our hands or feet on the coral heads below. For this reason the line is moved a little deeper. I'm in the front row. With a cannon shot, the mass start bolts forward, thrashing through the warm, clear water! .6mi straight out. The swells and current keep us running into each other. I get some mouthfuls of salt water. The turn-around boat and buoy break loose, floating away and causing confusion. Heading back towards the black beach, the field is still packed. A human wall finally directs us around the sharp coral. Brigid, Darren Gill, Christine Heilman & myself come out close together around 65th place. Since I rode to the transition area in the dark, my bike is in good position and, with a helpful push from a volunteer, I'm in-and-out quick.

I'm in 60th place. To have a chance at the 4 slots, I need to be near the top ten, assuming only 4 in my age group make top 10. First we struggle up Kam III Road, still gasping from the swim, then race down famous Alii Dr. towards the Queen K Hwy.. (Ironman Course). A 1/4 mi section is under construction and declared a "no passing zone". Luckily I'm through w/out a flat! I work to keep 24mph along the rolling lava fields and slowly move up in the ranks. I see the leader coming back w/an incredible lead. At the turn I'm 32nd. The winds are friendly and blow from the side. I force down the gooey power bars melting on my bike's hot frame. I'm riding w/out a shirt but still am quite hot. There are many water stations and I sometimes get ice in the bottle. My knee hurts so I take Ibuprofen. I get a 2nd wind at 40miles. Some of the racers I pass are relay teams. Now I maintain 26mph as we fly by the Kona-Keahoe airport. I'm 25th as we enter Alii Dr. Concentration is important as we dodge road hazards & swerve around traffic. I come up on a racer just as we enter the "no-passing" zone so I have to hold back. I pass 5 guys in these last 5 miles and their bib numbers are single digits (which I think means they're good) I enter the transition 20th. I wait helplessly as volunteers rush to take bikes and hand out run bags. Shoes on, I rush out while putting on my singlet, waist pack, and hat.

I see Kristen's excited face and feel I must be doing well. I realize I missed the 1st water station as I was dressing and I quickly feel the heat as I hit the fist hill. The heat is different than California, it cooks from the inside, like a microwave. I've never felt this hot in a race. Down in "The Pit" at 1.5mi I get water and sponges and loop around for the tough 1mile climb back up. At 4mi I'm on 6:43 pace and I see Brigid looking strong in the first hill. A stomach cramp is developing; probably from taking Ibuprofen throughout the week for a swollen ligament in my foot. I remember the same thing happening at ½ Vineman last year and know I need water fast. I wish the aid stations were closer together. By mile 8, the cramp is doing better but the rolling hills and heat are getting tough to bear. I'm ignoring my beeping 6:40 timer on my watch as my pace slows to 7:20. Short relief comes when I fill my hat with ice. I welcome a spray from a garden hose but the water is warm and helps little. A couple runners succumb to walking but I refuse the temptation. I think of the hard training that's led to this point, of Kristen who flew here to watch, of my friends and family who own plane tickets to Ironman, and of my Aunt who repeatedly told me, "You DON'T want to go to Lubbock!". I try to prepare for the inevitable fast-approaching footsteps that belong to the guy ready to steal the last slot. I want to look back but my neck is too stiff. I feel God telling me to run my own race the best I can and he'll take care of the rest. I recite Phil 3:14, "I press on towards the goal for the prize which is the upward calling of God through Christ Jesus" and I never try to look back again. 2 miles to go, I load up on water, ice and sponges. I tell myself I'll sprint at mile 12, but that's a joke. Instead, remembering my Dad's advice, I try ignoring the pain in my legs by concentrating on arms and form. I'm oblivious to people except for a faint image of Brett McDonald (30) who has remained 300 yds ahead of me despite his blistered, bleeding heals. I also fail to notice Brett easily passing a toasted runner in my age group who finishes only 13 seconds ahead of me. But I do see the Finish Line and I'm done!!

I'm totally happy because I followed the plan and have nothing left to give. Volunteers are grabbing me, making me drink, sticking ice under my arms, massaging my legs... I don't complain.

I finished 12th out of 444. My times were Swim 29:47, Bike 2:23:46, Run 1:34:04, and Total 4:27:37. The results show I'm 6th place for my age. I don't mind that I missed a slot by 2 places because it's my best time ever. However, 5 hours later, in the final awards, the announcement is made that the first 2 finishers are ineligible because they are pros and the 4th Ironman Slot goes to Troy Soares!

Praise God! I'm going to Ironman!