The pieces are small and scattered all over the jagged emptiness of the Big Island lava fields. The edges have been blasted to bits by the hellacious winds that can, at different times of the day, help you, frustrate you… or destroy you. The colors of the pieces now blend together after being scorched off by the mid-day sun, just like the runners who dismount their bikes and head out for a marathon with triple figure temperatures smacking them right between the eyes.
Mix in food poisoning, jet lag, cramping, a forearm shiver to the goggles, a penalty on the bike, a mechanical, missing a special needs bag, a stomach not able to assimilate all of those thousands of calories in one hundred degree heat, and you’re one step closer to solving the Ironman puzzle.
Kind of.
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