Race Review -- Bike and Transition 2
Dislaimer: It is very late. I make no promises as to the quality of this review. I can promise that it will be riddled with spelling and grammatical errors.
Bike and T2 (continued from yesterday)
...repeated to myself the motto of the day:
DON'T.
BE.
STUPID.
Okay, so maybe that wasn't the motto of the day, but I sure felt like I said it to myself a lot.
Don't be stupid, as in, don't be stupid and go out hard on the bike!
Don't be stupid, as in, don't be stupid and not drink enough water!
Don't be stupid, as in, don't be stupid and not eat enough calories!
I am including a map of the bike course, for reference. The course was 2 loops going counter-clockwise from Lake Placid:
I flew down the hill from the transition area and through town. I tried to settle down and focus on what was sure to be a very long bike ride. I told myself that I wanted to keep my legs fresh for finishing the marathon, which meant riding extremely easy. That wasn't too hard to do as the first mile or so out of town were a nice, easy down hill. We turned left onto Highway 73 and I was greeted with the sight of the Olympic Ski Jump Towers . I was awe-struck by these massive columns that athletes willingly flung themselves down and off of, on skis to boot:
Once we were past the ski jumps, the ride started to get pretty tough. We began climbing steadily out of town, but I was patient. I watched tons of bikers pass me, but thought of the long day to come and the fresh legs I'd be enjoying on the marathon. I stuck the bike in a low gear and spun away. I kept an eye on my bike computer to make sure that I was drinking water every five minutes. I knew that pretty soon I would be coming up on the 6 mile + descent into Keene, which is infamous for its screamingly steep plummet, complete with winding curves and sketchy shoulders. I tried not to panic (that could have been another motto of the day) and focused on my hydration. At 20 minutes, I ate a Smoothie bar for some calories and was feeling good and relaxed.
Shortly after the climb out of town, I rode by a beautiful, clear lake bordered by the steep side of a mountain. It was incredible:
When I saw this, however, I knew I was in for something interesting:
The descent into the village of Keene is marked by a series of three of these such signs. I dropped down in my handlebars, said a prayer for safety and focused, and down I went.
Let me just tell you, I rode my bike A LOT during the training for this Ironman. I knew that I was in for a hilly, tough bike course, and consequently, I made it my mission to find as many stupidly steep hills as I could possibly climb, knowing it probably still wouldn't come close to preparing me for the stupidly hilly course at Lake Placid. All this to say, on the steepest, biggest, stupidest hills I found to go down, the fastest I ever went was 28 miles an hour. 30 seconds past this sign I decided to dare looking at my bike computer, just for a second taking my eyes off of the road in front of me. My speed was 43 mph.
I don't know what I was worrying about. It took me about a minute to realize that the descent was freaking fun! I didn't have to pedal and I like going fast. What's not to love? I whizzed down that hill with the most gigantic grin on my face and loved each of the six miles I got to fly down those hills.
When the thrill ride was over, I settled into some nice rolling hills on my way into the town of Upper Jay. Not too long after that, I realized that I had to pee already. I had no idea how far away the next aid station was, so I found a nice wooded spot, ditched my bike and headed in. I felt so much better afterwards and smiled because I figured I must have been hydrating okay.
In fact, I must have been hydrating phenomenally because I had to pee at the next aid station before heading out to the out-and-back, and then at the one after that on my way back from the out-and-back.
Every time that I stopped at an aid station, the volunteers would once again show why they are so awesome. One would hold my bike while I lumbered into a porta-john; another would ask what I wanted to eat or drink. If I needed it, a third would take my Camelback and fill it up with water. A fourth would offer to slather sunscreen on me. I had a picture of the three kids taped to Quicksilver's handlebars.
Those people were even kind enough to make comments about how cute my kids were in the time it took for all of that to happen. They are seriously the best. I loved those volunteers.
After the first out and back, I was surprised to find a serious climb waiting for me. I knew that the last leg of the bike loop past Whiteface Mountain on highway 86 was very tough, but I was not expecting this. I repeated the motto for the day, switched to a low gear and tried to be patient. When I finally reached the town of Wilmington, I was happy to find that I was already at the second out and back. I stopped again at the aid station and prepared myself for the climb back to Lake Placid.
Rumor has it that this last 15 mile stretch of the loop is beastly. It's 15 miles of constant climbing, punctuated with hills so steep they have their own names like, "Little Cherry", "Big Cherry", "Baby Bear", "Mama Bear", and "Papa Bear". I intentionally did not drive this section of the course before race day because I didn't want to get psyched out, and I certainly wasn't going to let myself get psyched out now, because no matter how big they were, I was determined to climb them.
I started reading the signs that people had posted along the side of the road and found myself very much amused by their content, funny things like "Smile if you aren't wearing underpants" (I wasn't), and inspiring things like "It's the hard that makes it good". Before I knew it, I was at the last aid station and over half-way through what was supposedly the most difficult section of the course! I took one last visit to the porta-john, let the volunteers spoil me for a minute, and was off again.
When I met Papa Bear, I was ready for him. The crowds who line Papa Bear hill are notorious for being crazy, and this year's contingent did not disappoint. They yelled and cheered like I was part of the Tour de France. I smiled and high fived as many people as I could on the way up and pedaled the rest of the way into town just absolutely beaming.
Winding my way through town, I miraculously managed to spot Colby, who was grinning like an idiot and asking how I was feeling. "Great!" I managed to yell out before making the turn behind the speed skating oval.
And, I really was feeling great! I was flying high on completing the course, and happy that I had stuck so well to my nutrition plan.
At this point, I got a chance to grab my special needs bag. Inside, I had some treats to eat. I snagged a PB and J that Colby had made me, a couple of bags of fruit snacks, and some trail mix and stuffed them in my tri suit wherever I could find room. I was feeling fully confident that I was eating more than a sufficient number of calories, but my stomach was starting to feel a little iffy. I pushed it out of my mind and focused on how good it would feel to cross that finish line.
When I rounded the bend, however, I had a serious moment of doubt. I looked and saw two signs. One said "TRANSITION" with a straight arrow. The other said "SECOND LAP" with an arrow bent to the right. In a flash, I wondered if there was any way that I could possibly do all of that over again. The first lap was done, sure, but it had been a lot of work and time, and I was tired.
I began the climb out of town with a heavy heart. It seemed harder this time, and a lot quieter as I had long since been passed by most the people who finished the swim after me. I found myself looking down at my kids on the handlebars a lot during that climb, using them for inspiration.
When I rounded a bend during this section, I saw a man on the left hand side of the road jumping up and down and yelling wildly. I was confused because, first of all, the roads on the bike course had pretty much been shut down to vehicle traffic; and second of all, I was like the only biker around at the point.
As I got closer, I started to to realize what was happening and felt tears welling up. It was MY DAD! My dad had flown out that morning to see the race and had finally made it to the course! I don't remember all that was said, but it made me so happy to see him! As I rode away, he yelled, "Make sure you're eating!" That made me laugh. But, it worked. I grabbed another granola bar and made short work of it. My dad's presence was enough to boost me up all the way through the rest of the climb and the descent into Keene, which I let myself fly down even faster the second time around.
By the time I made it to the first out and back, I had decided that I would stop at every aid station from here on out. I didn't want to take any chances, and it was getting hotter and hotter as the day went on. My stomach was still hurting, but I managed to force down another Smoothie bar.
At the aid station in the town of Jay, I saw the first of what ended up being many ambulances throughout the day. I began to worry, but used it as a reminder to continue eating and drinking.
At the second out and back, as I was letting a volunteer put some more sunscreen on me, he remarked that the temperature on the course was well above 90. When I got back on my bike, I said a grateful prayer thanking God for all of the hot weather we had been having in Michigan. I hate hot weather, but all of the training I had to do in it certainly helped me prepare for the race.
I reached mile 90 and began to see more and more ambulances. At this point, I wasn't feeling too great myself. My stomach was really feeling sick, I was hot, and I knew I faced the entire climb back into Lake Placid. I honestly don't really remember much from this part of the race. I know I did a lot of praying.
I stopped at the final aid station and let the volunteers shower me with encouragement. When I reached Papa Bear, it was deserted. I'm sure that the crowds had left long ago after the majority of the cyclists passed through. I felt a little sad, but I knew that I was so close to having conquered the course I had worried about for so long. I powered up Papa Bear feeling strong and made the turn into town feeling glorious.
As I coasted down Mirror Lake Drive, I took a look at my bike computer. I had been out on the bike course for 8 hours. I knew this included all of the stops at the aid stations and the ridiculous climbing, but even so -- I had been on the bike a full two hours longer than I had ever been on my bike before. I couldn't believe that I had actually pulled it off. By the grace of God, I was going to be able to get off of the bike having finished the course. I started to get emotional as I passed through the crowds on Main Street. I was all smiles as I rounded the turn behind the speed skating oval. Instead of looking at the two signs with dread, I was ecstatic to follow the straight arrow sign into the dismount zone and transition area.
Another fabulous volunteer took my bike from me (which was fine with me, I was happy to not see Quicksilver again for a good long while) and directed me to the women's changing tent. When I got there, I was greeted by another angel who helped me strip down and completely change into my running gear. She even helped me get Vaseline on my arms to prevent chafing. She wished me the best of luck and then got busy taking care of all my disgustingly sweaty bike gear.
On my way out of the tent, I got slathered with some more sunscreen, then took a deep breath and started to run onto Main Street.
Bike and T2 (continued from yesterday)
...repeated to myself the motto of the day:
DON'T.
BE.
STUPID.
Okay, so maybe that wasn't the motto of the day, but I sure felt like I said it to myself a lot.
Don't be stupid, as in, don't be stupid and go out hard on the bike!
Don't be stupid, as in, don't be stupid and not drink enough water!
Don't be stupid, as in, don't be stupid and not eat enough calories!
I am including a map of the bike course, for reference. The course was 2 loops going counter-clockwise from Lake Placid:
I flew down the hill from the transition area and through town. I tried to settle down and focus on what was sure to be a very long bike ride. I told myself that I wanted to keep my legs fresh for finishing the marathon, which meant riding extremely easy. That wasn't too hard to do as the first mile or so out of town were a nice, easy down hill. We turned left onto Highway 73 and I was greeted with the sight of the Olympic Ski Jump Towers . I was awe-struck by these massive columns that athletes willingly flung themselves down and off of, on skis to boot:
 |
| This is pretty much exactly what I saw as I was riding down 73...only less snow. |
Shortly after the climb out of town, I rode by a beautiful, clear lake bordered by the steep side of a mountain. It was incredible:
When I saw this, however, I knew I was in for something interesting:
The descent into the village of Keene is marked by a series of three of these such signs. I dropped down in my handlebars, said a prayer for safety and focused, and down I went.
Let me just tell you, I rode my bike A LOT during the training for this Ironman. I knew that I was in for a hilly, tough bike course, and consequently, I made it my mission to find as many stupidly steep hills as I could possibly climb, knowing it probably still wouldn't come close to preparing me for the stupidly hilly course at Lake Placid. All this to say, on the steepest, biggest, stupidest hills I found to go down, the fastest I ever went was 28 miles an hour. 30 seconds past this sign I decided to dare looking at my bike computer, just for a second taking my eyes off of the road in front of me. My speed was 43 mph.
I don't know what I was worrying about. It took me about a minute to realize that the descent was freaking fun! I didn't have to pedal and I like going fast. What's not to love? I whizzed down that hill with the most gigantic grin on my face and loved each of the six miles I got to fly down those hills.
When the thrill ride was over, I settled into some nice rolling hills on my way into the town of Upper Jay. Not too long after that, I realized that I had to pee already. I had no idea how far away the next aid station was, so I found a nice wooded spot, ditched my bike and headed in. I felt so much better afterwards and smiled because I figured I must have been hydrating okay.
In fact, I must have been hydrating phenomenally because I had to pee at the next aid station before heading out to the out-and-back, and then at the one after that on my way back from the out-and-back.
Every time that I stopped at an aid station, the volunteers would once again show why they are so awesome. One would hold my bike while I lumbered into a porta-john; another would ask what I wanted to eat or drink. If I needed it, a third would take my Camelback and fill it up with water. A fourth would offer to slather sunscreen on me. I had a picture of the three kids taped to Quicksilver's handlebars.
Those people were even kind enough to make comments about how cute my kids were in the time it took for all of that to happen. They are seriously the best. I loved those volunteers.
After the first out and back, I was surprised to find a serious climb waiting for me. I knew that the last leg of the bike loop past Whiteface Mountain on highway 86 was very tough, but I was not expecting this. I repeated the motto for the day, switched to a low gear and tried to be patient. When I finally reached the town of Wilmington, I was happy to find that I was already at the second out and back. I stopped again at the aid station and prepared myself for the climb back to Lake Placid.
Rumor has it that this last 15 mile stretch of the loop is beastly. It's 15 miles of constant climbing, punctuated with hills so steep they have their own names like, "Little Cherry", "Big Cherry", "Baby Bear", "Mama Bear", and "Papa Bear". I intentionally did not drive this section of the course before race day because I didn't want to get psyched out, and I certainly wasn't going to let myself get psyched out now, because no matter how big they were, I was determined to climb them.
I started reading the signs that people had posted along the side of the road and found myself very much amused by their content, funny things like "Smile if you aren't wearing underpants" (I wasn't), and inspiring things like "It's the hard that makes it good". Before I knew it, I was at the last aid station and over half-way through what was supposedly the most difficult section of the course! I took one last visit to the porta-john, let the volunteers spoil me for a minute, and was off again.
When I met Papa Bear, I was ready for him. The crowds who line Papa Bear hill are notorious for being crazy, and this year's contingent did not disappoint. They yelled and cheered like I was part of the Tour de France. I smiled and high fived as many people as I could on the way up and pedaled the rest of the way into town just absolutely beaming.
Winding my way through town, I miraculously managed to spot Colby, who was grinning like an idiot and asking how I was feeling. "Great!" I managed to yell out before making the turn behind the speed skating oval.
And, I really was feeling great! I was flying high on completing the course, and happy that I had stuck so well to my nutrition plan.
At this point, I got a chance to grab my special needs bag. Inside, I had some treats to eat. I snagged a PB and J that Colby had made me, a couple of bags of fruit snacks, and some trail mix and stuffed them in my tri suit wherever I could find room. I was feeling fully confident that I was eating more than a sufficient number of calories, but my stomach was starting to feel a little iffy. I pushed it out of my mind and focused on how good it would feel to cross that finish line.
When I rounded the bend, however, I had a serious moment of doubt. I looked and saw two signs. One said "TRANSITION" with a straight arrow. The other said "SECOND LAP" with an arrow bent to the right. In a flash, I wondered if there was any way that I could possibly do all of that over again. The first lap was done, sure, but it had been a lot of work and time, and I was tired.
I began the climb out of town with a heavy heart. It seemed harder this time, and a lot quieter as I had long since been passed by most the people who finished the swim after me. I found myself looking down at my kids on the handlebars a lot during that climb, using them for inspiration.
When I rounded a bend during this section, I saw a man on the left hand side of the road jumping up and down and yelling wildly. I was confused because, first of all, the roads on the bike course had pretty much been shut down to vehicle traffic; and second of all, I was like the only biker around at the point.
As I got closer, I started to to realize what was happening and felt tears welling up. It was MY DAD! My dad had flown out that morning to see the race and had finally made it to the course! I don't remember all that was said, but it made me so happy to see him! As I rode away, he yelled, "Make sure you're eating!" That made me laugh. But, it worked. I grabbed another granola bar and made short work of it. My dad's presence was enough to boost me up all the way through the rest of the climb and the descent into Keene, which I let myself fly down even faster the second time around.
By the time I made it to the first out and back, I had decided that I would stop at every aid station from here on out. I didn't want to take any chances, and it was getting hotter and hotter as the day went on. My stomach was still hurting, but I managed to force down another Smoothie bar.
At the aid station in the town of Jay, I saw the first of what ended up being many ambulances throughout the day. I began to worry, but used it as a reminder to continue eating and drinking.
At the second out and back, as I was letting a volunteer put some more sunscreen on me, he remarked that the temperature on the course was well above 90. When I got back on my bike, I said a grateful prayer thanking God for all of the hot weather we had been having in Michigan. I hate hot weather, but all of the training I had to do in it certainly helped me prepare for the race.
I reached mile 90 and began to see more and more ambulances. At this point, I wasn't feeling too great myself. My stomach was really feeling sick, I was hot, and I knew I faced the entire climb back into Lake Placid. I honestly don't really remember much from this part of the race. I know I did a lot of praying.
I stopped at the final aid station and let the volunteers shower me with encouragement. When I reached Papa Bear, it was deserted. I'm sure that the crowds had left long ago after the majority of the cyclists passed through. I felt a little sad, but I knew that I was so close to having conquered the course I had worried about for so long. I powered up Papa Bear feeling strong and made the turn into town feeling glorious.
As I coasted down Mirror Lake Drive, I took a look at my bike computer. I had been out on the bike course for 8 hours. I knew this included all of the stops at the aid stations and the ridiculous climbing, but even so -- I had been on the bike a full two hours longer than I had ever been on my bike before. I couldn't believe that I had actually pulled it off. By the grace of God, I was going to be able to get off of the bike having finished the course. I started to get emotional as I passed through the crowds on Main Street. I was all smiles as I rounded the turn behind the speed skating oval. Instead of looking at the two signs with dread, I was ecstatic to follow the straight arrow sign into the dismount zone and transition area.
Another fabulous volunteer took my bike from me (which was fine with me, I was happy to not see Quicksilver again for a good long while) and directed me to the women's changing tent. When I got there, I was greeted by another angel who helped me strip down and completely change into my running gear. She even helped me get Vaseline on my arms to prevent chafing. She wished me the best of luck and then got busy taking care of all my disgustingly sweaty bike gear.
On my way out of the tent, I got slathered with some more sunscreen, then took a deep breath and started to run onto Main Street.
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