I promised that I’d get myself to Hawaii. I’d pay my dues, do the training, buy the T-shirt. My four year plan was repeatedly tweaked, my barriers continually broadened. One way or another I’d make it happen. And nothing was going to stop me.

God works in mysterious ways.

As it turned out I got to Hawaii far earlier than expected. And far differently to the way I had imagined. There’s more than one way to skin a cat.

The Waitress
She told me that Thomas Magnum PI’s place was on Oahu, some distance from the end of the bike course. But, she whispered, he didn’t actually live there anymore. It occurred to me, while clocking 70kph down the back end of the bike course all dressed in black Italian lycra, that the waitress at Kaneohe Bay may have been a few pineapples short of a Big Kahuna burger. Everyone knows that Magnum lived on the Robin Masters’ Estate just off Waimanalo. No-one kills my dream.

Mexicans, Kiwis and Brazilians streamed past me on the bike. My heart rate monitor registered me as recently deceased, my speedometer was on the blink. I was racing on Zen and spilling Chi-beans all over the road. The swim sans wetsuit had gone to plan. Avoid the congestion of elbows and enjoy the view of the coral. Palm trees had hovered on the beach front, like the pre-Napalm scene from Apocalypse Now, while the 30-34 year old age groupers had skirmished in the warm waters off Waikiki Beach. That was behind me and I was as happy as a big wave rider on North Beach in winter.

I was less than an hour into the race. My legs were working hard and I felt I was flying. The problem was my competitors were flying faster. I wasn’t too concerned. Here I was, a living-in-London-Joburger, representing Italy in the Triathlon Age Group World Championships. Not too bad for someone who can’t pronounce derailleur. But - some wondered - why on earth represent the country of my ancestors as opposed to the country of my birth? Easy decision. The South Africans wouldn’t have me, the Italians would.

Joining the Italians involved several discussions with people from the club, Torino3, and the Italian federation, and they were all only too happy to have me on board the 6-strong team. They aren’t the most organised of teams but do place the Age Groupers on the same level as all Italian sporting representatives which does inspire you to bring your A-game to the race. Also, what the Italians lack in number they made up for in genius. Dressing its members in black Orca was well thought out. Aside from a few glares of the over-6-foot Kiwis at the swim start, the Italians were recipients of the inspiring support form the hundreds of New Zealanders lining the course, shouting “Go Kiwi Go.” I now know what it feels like to be from Wellington. And boy does it feel good.

Alighting from the bike, I hit the run hard trying to squeeze as much speed out of my legs as possible. The sun was heating up and my internal air conditioners were on max. I was amazed at the resilient and resourceful AWADs (Athlete’s With a Disability) who were bounding on artificial legs and springs about the course. Keep in mind that these guys are the world’s best athletes in their category. Guys and girls on wheelchairs. Blind athletes with their guide athletes. One of the AWADs flew around the course in 2h21m his leg replaced by a prosthetic. No weaklings here.

My run time was by far the quickest time I had this year. Your game is raised against better opponents. The finish shoot was awesome and represented to me far more than just the end of a race. It was many things for me. The last race of a long season. My last race as a DINK. My first race on the islands of Hawaii.

In my mind my first time in Hawaii was meant to be at the Ironman World Champs on Kona – a goal still several years down the line. The surprise of getting there as an Age Group Olympic Distance triathlete proved just as special. A good recce and trial run for the Ironman. If you had told me a year ago that I’d be racing with the Olympic big boys, I’d have laughed. Now, I just snigger.

Natalie and I went to Lulu’s on my last day in Hawaii. We were bushed from the surfing in Maui, the switchbacks on the roads to Hana and the Haleakala volcano, the early mornings, and the late nights. My eyes lit up as I ordered my Magnum PI burger wearing my Magnum Aloha Short, now the pride and joy of my wardrobe. Nats & I spoke little that night gazing down the road which acted as the run course on race day, listening to the Pacific Ocean lapping Oahu’s sandy beach. It was a great year for us. And now with Beanie on the way, 2006 would be even better.

Time and stats mean little to the average man but to triathletes they’re everything. Here are mine.

• 53rd athlete out of 127 in the 30-34 Age Group
• Swim 23m36s (42nd position)
• Bike 68m02s (somewhere near the back)
• Run 38m38s (33rd position)
• Total 2h11m15s
• First Italian home

Here’s the webcast of the finish line off Waikiki beach.

People and friends to look out for on the finish line:

• James “Duke” King
• Diego “Kite Rider” Blazquez
• Kevin “Big K” Kelly
• Andrew “Walt” Cairns
• Taryn “Surfer Girl” Holding

Aloha,
RobbyRicc