Kona 2002

“The two biggest things I have taken away from them so far is that they are fast—so very fast that it is scary to try to observe how fast they are, and yet that they are humble and polite, so much so that you have trouble realizing just how amazing they are at this sport,” Easa said. “They have both sides of the coin, and they are perfect examples of what makes triathlon so much more than the conventional sports (baseball, basketball, football).”

During their first week in Carlsbad, Easa took Luoto and Soderdahl on the group ride that leaves from the Reynolds fork factory on Wednesdays.

He writes of the week:

“This is a ride that I can usually handle, but today it seemed like they were riding faster, and that my legs were still fried from Ironman. Seeing my ugly excuse for an attempt to bridge a gap, Tom dropped back to pull me up to the front. I neglected to inform him that the big climb was coming up and that is usually when everyone who wants to put on the hurt starts putting it on. Tom pulled me all the way back to the pack, which I reached just at the base of West Lilac. I would have liked to return the favor somehow, but I just couldn't. All I could do was watch as the climb started, and Tom chased down Mika while I got left in the dust. At the top I just barely caught the two of them leading the charge as I sneaked off on a shortcut down 395 with my tail between my legs. Clearly not my finest day of cycling, but what impressed me was the confidence with which Tom had led me back in, then forged on to catch the leaders and hang in.

“Friday I decided to drive them to the pool as they were otherwise forced to ride their bikes there. I splashed around at masters while they churned out 4 of 6 x 400's. I jumped in the lane for #5 just to see what kind of pace they swam, and I was surprised to see Tom take off in the lead. I was even more surprised to see him gap Mika, who was already swimming faster than I could sprint for 200m. By the end of that 400, Mika had lapped me once and Tom had lapped me twice. I realized I was in over my head and retreated to the showers as they wrapped up #6. I was told later on that their pace was something in the 4:40 range for 400m. Which I found kind of scary and decided not to think about.

“In the car on the way home I decided I should ask Tom if he was racing in Kona. The information I had been given was simply that he was Mika's bike mechanic, but from all of the indications I did not see how an athlete of his caliber would be interested in flying all the way to Kona and not getting a little time on the course in. His response was a much more polite version of ‘Duh, of course I'm racing in Kona!’

“Saturday I took them to the Saturday ride from B&L. I knew this ride was out of my league, but I felt determined to give it a shot anyway since I knew the route and I had no races in the near future. A couple of bikes that I recognized from other races showed up; I recognized Macca as he rolled up in his Aussie jersey, and then the group got going at a reasonable pace heading north. On pops Michellie at Starbucks in Encinitas. I see Paul from Spinergy catch the train at La Costa. And finally, we hit the first hill on the route to the Elfin forest and a red Clif bar jersey on a Softride surges past. I had no doubts that it was Jurgen Zack trying to start some mayhem, but just as I attempted to perform some kind of pathetic response, my rear tire flatted on some glass and I was off the back for good. I missed out on the fun of seeing the big dogs pull away from the rest of the field, but the minute or two that I got to see Jurgen in action spelled out what must have happened for the rest of the ride.

“Sunday came and I was again determined to try to see the action up close. I took Mika and Tom to San Dieguito at 7:30 and we got a warmup in for what Jurgen had promised them would be a very fast run. The pack took off at 8, Jurgen surged at 8:03, and based on my frustration from the flat on Saturday, I followed Mika and Tom as they covered Jurgen's pace. Never mind that athletes like Michellie and Macca were starting off at a more reasonable training run pace, I threw out all reason and went with a group that I should never have even considered running near. I had neglected to wear my heart rate monitor, suspecting that I would see numbers that would be too ugly to bother looking at. In retrospect, I probably should have worn it because I am sure I could have used it as a max HR test. I hung in for the first hill, but I knew that my cork was popped. The pace felt faster than my 10K PR pace, which would put it somewhere in the sub 5:30 range.

“Only one other lunatic had decided this pace was a good idea, and as I watched the four of them leave me for dead on an unidentified horse trail in Rancho Santa Fe, I realized quite succinctly exactly how good you have to be to be considered a factor in Kona. You have to be able to swim bike and run faster than almost anyone else in the world for the entire 8-9 hours. There is no rest for these guys. There is no stopping at an aid station to drink water. You pee while you race. If you drop something, you don't even think about going back for it. The pace becomes the race. There is a mental battle perhaps, but it has to be a different kind of mental battle than IM is for me. When I race IM, at a certain point in the day the race is over and the survival game begins. When these guys race, judging by their pace and their splits, there is no option for reverting to survival mode. In fact, I'm not even convinced that the thought even crosses their minds.”

“So, as race day draws closer, I find myself as obsessed with Kona as I have ever been. I want to see both of them race well and I know they can and will. There is a strength of character in my new friends from Finland, one that will carry them both far in whatever they choose to do.”