After an eventful flight, meeting an inspiring young IronKid, and landing on Kona, reality reared its head. 

Next thing I know I’m assembling my bike in a jet-lag haze at 2 a.m., grabbing some breakfast at four, and by seven am driving out on the Queen K Highway to Kawaihae to find out how my body and bike will handle the headwinds up the long ascent to Hawi. This year I’m attempting something crazy—trying to use my new Zipp 1080 very deep-rimmed wheels front and rear, something no pro would do. Really, don’t try this yourself. But I think I can because I weigh 185 pounds and have good upper-body strength. I’ve been using that Zipp 1080 front in some very windy triathlons and even a 100-mile road race back in Texas, sometimes posting the fastest bike split against kids 25 years younger than me.

But the Kona Coast has no ordinary winds—forever chaotic and never steady—and I struggle on the narrow shoulder in the crosswinds in the early climb. Then I turn into the wind those last few miles of false flat, and the wheels are golden, making me go much faster than I can ever remember through that section. I murmur “I love you wheels,” to myself.

Every Ironman descent down from Hawi is a red-knuckle affair.

Then I turn to make the treacherous descent, where it is now drizzling a little in the cool mountain air, and at first it’s fast and tolerable, but when I turn and make the wind cross, things get very dicey. I have to move from the shoulder into the lane proper at about 40 mph, which of course will be available to us on race day, because I know from experience that I will be blown some meters one way or the other as I lurch in and out of protected rock outcroppings and wide-open areas, sloping down by the beautiful blue sea to my right.

After about five miles of this, my hands grow tired tightly gripping the aerobars, and as the long descent gives way to rollers, I start gripping the bullhorns for climbing and more crosswind control. And with traffic roaring by, I want to keep that control.

Now every Ironman descent down from Hawi is a red-knuckle affair, even with narrow-rimmed wheels. I’ve raced here the last two times with front and rear trispokes, which aren’t easy to handle either, but now I’m wondering if it’s worth the hassle for the 1080s. Even though I have good enough handling skills to avoid injury, will I lose time in that descent lingering on the bullhorns? Maybe I’ll try to rent a Zipp 404 front? Maybe I’ll just have to live with tightened wrists for 20 minutes or so in that long descent.

As Julius Caesar said, “The die is cast.” He crossed the Rubicon with an army—I may descend from Hawi in a crosswind with rims a little too deep.

Back in Kailua I pick up my Blueseventy PZ3TX, their new WTC-legal swim suit, made from high-tech acrylic instead of now-illegal neoprene. With a sweaty body it’s hard to put on, even with a new “magic zipper lock” that does not need a dangling string. You just flip the zipper tab up and pull, and off the suit comes. It’s tight, even though my weight is lower for this race than any this year, but the sales girl assures me this is normal and I still have room underneath for my trishorts and top.

Later, I head on down to Kailua pier to give it a try, and there are strange towels arrayed in rows in a protected area, sort of like the old practice-swim check-in, and I put my shoes on a folded new towel and head out for a 30-minute test drive of my ultrafast suit. The suit feels much better in the water than on land, smoothes my stroke, and could save me a minute or so.

By chance I run into the kids biathlon, where I exit the water just before they do and realize that I unknowingly put my shoes in their transition area. The official just laughs, says “that’s funny!” and lets me retrieve my shoes and get out of their way. Little rascals headed for IronKids—and someday, maybe a decade from now coming out of this water, onto this same pier, to test their fate for 140.6 miles.

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Tom Rodgers was born in Hawaii, is an elite coach and is the author of The Perfect Distance: Triathlete’s Guide to Long-Course Training from Velo Press. He coaches Ironman World Champions, beginner triathletes and everyone in between at http://Endurathon.com. Before becoming a full-time endurance coach, he designed extreme physiology experiments and trained astronauts for the International Space Station at NASA in Houston, Texas.