Every year 1800 or so athletes arrive in Kona for the World Ironman Championships. Almost 24 hours after leaving home Harold, JR, Michele and myself arrived among them. The only thing that was missing was my bike. We knew where it was because we saw it sitting on the tarmac in Honolulu as our plane taxied down the runway. Kona airport is a pretty laid back kind of place. When I asked about the missing bike I was told it would come on another plane sometime and I should wait for it or come back and look later. American Airlines was leaving all the bikes they had in the parking lot! So we stuck around and sure enough the bike showed up on the next flight.
We awoke the next day to a town full of fit people who were eager to exercise. There was a never-ending flow of…
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