Race Review -- Start to Transition 1

I think I am finally in a place where I can start to recap the race.  I really want to do it for me -- to get it off my chest and share my story, but I know there are at least a couple of people out there who have asked for more details about the race.  I'm sure this will be more than anybody really wants to hear, but hey, you have my permission to skim, skip sections that aren't interesting, or drop out halfway through. 

I think to do it all at once would be a little much -- not only for you to read, but for me to write, so I'm breaking the race up over three days.  I'll do the start of the race to T1 today, the bike through T2 tomorrow, and the run and finish the next day.  This will give me a chance to really include everything and do a good job.

So, here we go!

Start to Transition 1

Lake Placid is a beautiful town.  When the Ironman is here (the only time I know), there are triathletes and their families everywhere you look.  Colby and I saw more people in spandex, visors, impressive previous race finisher shirts, and compression socks (yes, I'm serious)  than I would care to again. Ever.

It was a bit ridiculous.  Walking around in a sundress and sandals, I felt conspicuously un-Ironman.   Colby just assured me that I was cooler than every one else, but I didn't believe him.  Being in town was stressful for me.

This is me talking on the phone and drinking my coffee while driving a bobsled down Main Street in Lake Placid.

But seriously, there was nowhere to park and there were people everywhere.  Walking up and down the streets, you saw triathletes biking all over, running down the streets, and even swimming across Mirror Lake.  It all seemed a little much for me and made me extremely anxious. Needless to say, we tried to keep our time in the actual town of Lake Placid to a minimum.  I was so glad that we stayed in a little town about 6 miles west -- Saranac Lake.  It was exactly the non-triathlon crazy haven that I needed. 

So, anyway.  For a few days I had been walking around the Olympic Oval, checking my bike next to other bikes that cost several times more than mine and checking gear next to athletes that seemed significantly more prepared than I.  I had been driving up and down roads that were riddled with gigantic hills and was concerned at my ability to finish the bike course. 

All this to say that I was pretty psyched out by race morning. 

The alarms went off at 4:30 am after a less-than-ideal night of tossing and turning.    One of my biggest  fears was that I would sleep in and miss the start of the race.  That would be sort of embarrassing to explain, but luckily, my fears weren't realized.  The transition area opened at 5 am, but I really wanted to grab some coffee on the way in, and Dunkin' Donuts didn't open until 5 am.  So, I put on my tri suit, my Concord Classic shirt from when I raced in 1989 (7 years-old), my sweatpants, my bandanna, my smiley face earrings, and my favorite tie-dyed sweatshirt and we jumped into the van to wait in line at the Dunkin' Donuts drive-thru.  Three small coffees later (2 for me, one for Colby), we were headed to Lake Placid.  I didn't really need to do too much before the race started, and the coffees made it totally worth arriving a little later than most everyone else.

The drive was quiet.  I was nervous beyond anything I have ever experienced in my life.  I ate a banana and a bagel, but my stomach was churning with anticipation.  I kept thinking how close my dream was, that all I had to today was reach out and capture it.  I prayed for strength, for the ability to think clearly and execute my race nutrition and hydration plan, and for the fortitude to persevere when it got tough.

Because the traffic was more than a little insane in downtown Lake Placid, Colby dropped me off literally in the middle of Main Street.  Because I had already checked my gear bags and bike, I didn't have to hang on to anything but my coffee and my special needs bags.  I only really wanted to get some air in my tires before heading down to the beach to drop of my bags and get ready for the start, so I battled my way through crowds of nervous triathletes and their families to the racks of bikes in the speed skating oval.  The men in spandex seemed considerably less cocky this morning, much to my amusement.  I found a fellow triathlete who had a bike pump and was willing to let me borrow it, filled up my Camelback with some water to get me going on the bike, and finished off my coffee.  I was shaking so badly as I filled up my water bottles that I sloshed water all over the table and my clothes.

As I started back out of the transition area and towards the lake, I stopped to get my body markings done.  A sweet high school-aged boy carefully wrote 483 on my quads, each bicep, and put my age on the back of my calves.  Probably not the best job to have at 5 am, but he was funny and kept my mind off of the nerves I was feeling, at least for a couple of minutes.  I called Colby and we met up on Mirror Lake Drive to drop my special needs bags off in the appropriate area. 

Wearing my 1989 Concord Classic t-shirt, I wanted to capture the competitiveness, fire, and confidence that my 7 year-old self had.  I mean, when I was seven, I was confident that I would be successful in everything I did (not always an accurate assessment, but ballsy).  I'm pretty sure that in 1989 I fully expected be the first person to cross the finish line at the Concord Classic.  I wanted to embrace the fierceness.  I wanted to channel that attitude of self-assurance.  I'm not sure that I was successful in that, but my vintage t-shirt did make me smile.

Yes, this was actually the same t-shirt I got when I raced the Concord Classic in 1989.

Seeing 3000 matching plastic bags on each side of the road was pretty cool.  The amazing volunteers took my bags from me and assured me that they would be placed in the correct location.  Sweet!  Colby and walked hand in hand back down the road.  I kept having to go to the bathroom, but so did everyone else and the lines to the port-johns were forever long.  I kept climbing over the hill to pee in the woods.   After the first time, Colby wanted me to get my picture taken with "Ironfan", but I felt like so nervous about the race that I said no. 

After the second time going over the hill and into the woods, we started to hear announcements about the start of the race.  I  had just over 20 minutes to go, so I headed down through the thick of the crowds to put on my wetsuit, watch the professionals start their race, and get ready to cross the timing mats to get into the water.

From there, things started to go pretty quickly.  After getting my wetsuit on, I watched the professionals enter the water.  I gave Colby a hug and a kiss, grabbed my hot-pink swim cap and goggles, and fought my way through the crowds to cross the timing mats. 

My plan was to stay towards the back, as I figured on being one of the slower swimmers, and the mass swim start had me anxious about getting kicked in the face.  I wanted to swim wide to stay out of the crowd.  I found a spot back towards the beach and managed to wave to Colby, only to hear Mike Reilly (the voice of Ironman) say that the cannon would fire in 4 minutes.  My stomach dropped, but Mike started talking to us, saying "Today, you will be an Ironman!  It's time!  I'll meet you at the finish line, okay?"

That's me in the middle with my arms raised.  If you look in the background and see the suspended flags hanging above the water, that is the official starting line.  You're seeing less than half of the width of the race start right now.

To my surprise, I started to get pumped.  I would be an Ironman today, as long as I wasn't stupid and didn't go out too hard.  If I left something in the tank for the marathon, ate my calories, and stayed hydrated, I would be an Ironman!  Everything I had dreamed about for so long was finally within reach and I felt ready to go!

With a BOOM, then cannon fired and all of us were on our way!  I couldn't help myself.  Instead of staying back like I originally intended, I thought, "Why not?  I might as well get started!" and moved my way up with the masses.

Immediately I was getting kicked in the arms and face, although I felt no direct blows to the nose or teeth.  I also had hands grabbing my feet and legs, which made me feel like I was getting pulled down into the water.  When I lifted my face out of the water to take a breath, I would get either a foot in the face or a nice slosh of water.  I wasn't getting into a good rhythm, and I was fighting the urge to panic.  Instead, I started concentrating on finding the feet in front of me, and holding my own space in the water.  I knew it was going to be a long, hard battle, and it was just beginning.  Here's a short video clip of the start that shows a little bit of the craziness that is the Ironman Lake Placid mass swim start:


The swim is 2 laps.  It seemed like it took forever to reach the first turn-around, which is around the time I started to notice a pain like getting a rug burn on my neck every time that took a breath.  After the race, I saw why:

My wetsuit rubbed me the wrong way.

I pushed it out of my mind and focused on sighting the next buoy in line until I finally reached the last one and got ready to come back.  Circling around the buoy was a mass of humanity.  When I looked up, there was white foamy water and pink and green swim caps as far as the eye could see.  I just kept kept working and tried to relax. 

When I got out of the water for the first lap, I didn't waste any time, but dove right back in.  This time, I tried to get a little wider and actually had some stretches where I could find a rhythm and work with some space.  This made the swim much more enjoyable.  I started to notice how clear and beautiful Mirror Lake was as well as appreciate the beauty of the scenery around the lake when I looked up to sight the buoys.  When I made it to the second turn around, I thought, "My word, I'm almost done with the swim!"  Just a short time later, I was crawling out of the water and headed up through the chute towards the transition area.

I was shocked to see that I came in under an hour and 20 minutes.  I honestly thought I would be more like and hour and 40 minutes, and with the traffic I encountered on the first lap, I thought maybe even that would be pushing it.  I was thrilled to be coming out of the water so quickly!  I started running up the hill high on adrenaline, then realized that I was being stupid and slowed to a light jog.  I found a crew of wet suit strippers that helped me get the darn thing off.  Shortly after, I saw Colby on the left side of the chute and stopped for a second to plant a big wet kiss on him.  I was so happy!  I did it!  I finished the swim in the Ironman! 

In a matter of a couple of minutes, I was all the way through the chute.  I grabbed my swim to bike gear bag and followed the directions of the lovely volunteers to the change tent. 

When I got there, a volunteer quickly grabbed me and directed me to a seat.  She helped me put on my socks and bike shoes, my Camelback, my sunglasses, my headband, and my helmet.  I strapped on my race belt.  Then, she wished me luck as she stuffed my wetsuit, goggles, and cap back into the bag.

Let me just pause for a moment and tell you how amazing the volunteers at this race were.  They take care of you something fierce.  It was incredible.

As I jogged out of the tent, volunteers were lined up along the bike racks and were shouting my number out as I came through.  When I got to the end, a volunteer was holding my bike for me all ready to go.  I rolled Quicksilver to the Mounting Line, threw my leg over and...