2013 Ironman Lake Placid Race Ramblings

Thinking about, and then deciding to do an ironman, is sort of like having a baby. Allllright now... settle down.  I can almost feel you rolling your eyes.  Did she just go there?!  Geeeeeez, don't take things so literally.  I get the miracle of childbirth.  I have two little monsters... and anyway, if you hear me out, you may just agree.

You know before you decide to have a baby and you are sort of thinking about maybe entertaining the thought of possibly having one? (If you don't have any little minions, just go with it). It's sort of scary and you are positive the whole idea is just ludicrous? Like completely off the wall.  Then there is some point when you think, well why the heck not? All these other smuckolahs have kids, why can't I?

Then there is that moment. The moment when something switches and it's not only NOT a completely crazy idea, but it's actually an awesomely great idea. One of such brilliance that you can't imagine why you haven't thought of it sooner.  All the adorable baby clothes and what theme should I choose for the room?!?! You NEED to be part of this other world filled with baby blankets that you are certain you will knit yourself. 

Yeahhhhhh, except for the other stuff that nobody tells you about. The funky stuff. The stuff nobody really wants to talk about, and you wonder whos idea this baby making business was in the first place because the pain is so intense! But in the end, and in spite of all the funky stuff, it's all of those amazingly great things and more.

That is exactly what it was like for me and Ironman (miracle of childbirth disclaimer)...

Right before I went up to volunteer for Ironman Lake Placid 2012, Bob laughed and said I would definitely be signing up for the following year's race.  "You better clear it with Rich," he insisted. Yeah right! I have an IRON will.  I wasn't signing up.  That was the end of it... except for, you know, it wasn't. The morning after the race, my thought process for signing up went something like this; Absolutely not! Crazy! Mildly crazy.  Hmmmm. But why?  Why not? Why the hell not?  F it!  Damn straight I'm singing up for that race!!!!  Good thing I cleared it with Rich.

My head was immediately filled with thoughts of doing cartwheels to the finishers tent with Mike the morning after the race.  Mike Riley calling out my name while I back handsprung into the Olympic Circle in Lake Placid. The crowds of people lining the streets pulling me towards the finish.  All the volunteers encouraging me along way that I would thank... and the thing is, it was amazing beyond what I could have imagined, but just like that whole baby making business, there were things people sort of left out along the way.

It was 140.6 miles of extremes.  Extreme joy.  Extreme pain.  Extreme emotions.  Both highs and lows.  This is my story of how I gave birth to an Ironman.   The amazing moments, the dark moments, and the funky moments. To leave them out would be telling half of the story. So consider yourself warned. Proceed with caution.

***If you got this far and just don't feel like reading further, here is the short version:

• I swam 2.4 miles and didn't stop.
• I biked 112 miles and didn't stop. Except to use the bathroom. Alot.
• I ran 26.2 miles and didn't stop. I wanted to stop.
• It was fun.
• The end.

When I decided to sign up for Ironman, I had two goals.  

1.  Get to the starting line healthy.

2.  Train with my friends whenever possible.  

I consider myself extremely lucky in both regards.  I had a few derailments in training, most notably a head on collision with a tree at stillwell trails (oye), but nothing that stopped me from training for more than a few days, and I made some really great memories of long training sessions with friends that I will cherish as much as the race itself.  So even before the race started, I had already hit both of my goals.  Win! 

Those that know my aversion for math will in no way be surprised to hear that I had absolutely no time goals for the race itself and at no time during the race did I have any clue as to how long I had been out there.  I'm sure I could have figured it out, but... who am I kidding, I was never going to figure it out.  

Race weekend:

Thursday: the drive up:

Mary Luke picked me up bright and early and we were on our way. Packed for the ride were stuffed animals (chilly, tiny and froggy; pictured below) the kids picked out for me to bring. Adorable overload, I know. The ride was uneventful but packed with lots of laughs and silly girl talk.

Text from Ta: Did you get it yet?

Me: NO!

Yup. You ladies know what we're talking about.

I had to pretty much get it at that moment to be free on race day. Just one of those things I didn't ever imagine would be an issue. Lots of texts all weekend back and forth about it. And lots of talks with my uterus. Come on, girl, you can do it!!!! Then once Saturday morning came along and still nothing. Good Lord. Not today. Abort all coaxing with uterus. Stay the course, uterus. I would rather get it on course than the day before the race.  

Spoiler Alert: my body gave me a pass and I still can't believe it.  Probably because I was so overly prepared. Both transition bags and both special needs bags were stocked with provisions should things start happening on course. Oh stop it!  It's circle of life type stuff and I'm actually downplaying how much I stressed over this. I stressed over this more than any other single thing leading up to the race.

Later that afternoon, the whole SSTC crew hit Mirror lake for a group swim and it was awesome.  Everyone there in one place.  It was surreal.  It was happening.  It's then that it really hit me.  I had gotten to know many of these people really well over the past 6 months and allowed them to really get to know me.  I had so much admiration and love for all of them.  Most of us were doing Ironman for the first time.  Once if a lifetime experience.  Bucket list stuff.  We would forever have this amazing shared memory.  A memory made even sweeter because we were living through it together.  Lump in throat.  Happy sigh.

Later that evening, the 'band' (Mike, Anthony and Tommy, along with Jeanette, Staci and Diana) all went out to dinner.  Get those three together and I'm spending most of the time laughing.  This dinner was no exception. Perfect end to my first night up in Placid.  

Friday:

Short group ride on Friday.  It was nice to get out there and ride in Lake Placid again, but were we all just tempting fate? As it turns out we weren't. The ride was great and the only casualty was Ginger's flat tire which made for a quite amusing tire change tutorial from Ken.

'Put the stem between your legs and line it up with the hole.' lol.

A bit later in the day, we went out for a nice 20 minute swim in mirror lake capped off with a completely ridiculous, side splitting laughter, photo frenzie with Mike's underwater camera. Complete goofballs.  I'm sure they must have heard us laughing from across the lake.

Look 'tough'

Saturday:

Saturday was Mike's big day at the expo. He sat on a panel to talk about his fundraising efforts for the Ironman foundation. He was also chosen as one of their featured athletes!  He did an amazing job up there in front of the crowd and we all could not have been more proud.

More walking around the expo. I must have been super wrapped up in the excitement because I bought new socks and new compression calf sleeves! GASP! It's good to change things for race day, right? Well, no, but I was going to wear these awesome socks and compression calf thingies anyway.  

Back to the room to get ready to check my bike and transition bags. Whoever said race day was just like a long training day, failed to mention all the bags.  What happened to keeping things simple? 

Off to bike check in.

me: You guys think I got all the things I need in those bags?

Jackie and James Christie: Hmmm, no idea. Wasn't paying attention.

Awesome.  

Back to the room to stay off my feet for the rest of the day.

As a final precaution, I made a list of things for the next morning and taped it to the door right by the door knob. Super self aware of my, um, limitations.... wet suit...swim cap... goggles... special needs bags... etc...

Time to set the alarm. Right before going to bed I was texting Tara...

me: i'm nervous

her: i know. don't be. 140.6 miles of glory!

Slept about three hours total that night. Too many thoughts rattling around, and I'm pretty sure there was a Mardi Gras party happening outside the hotel from 2:00-3:00am.

RACE DAY:

The morning was a blur.  I ran up to Tara's house quick and Jon braided my hair in pig tails.  I was very calm. My usual pre-race excitement/anger/nervousness just wasn't there.  I had a bagel with peanut butter and banana and Bob stopped by the room with a small coffee. Love that he stopped in to check on me.  I waited around for, um, things to happen, and nothing.  Oh well, there was plenty of time before the race.   

Spoiler alert: No go.  

I made my way to get marked with Mary Luke and there was Bob and Gina.  Good sign.  While I was getting marked they unrolled a huge banner right in front of me.  

Awesome!

The swim:

My plan was to seed myself with the 1:14-1:20 finishers and I originally went to the proper coral, but when everyone else started packing in, it got real tight, real fast.  I turned around to see who was behind me and I spotted Mike and Anthony standing together.  F this.  I forfeited my spot and went to stand with my people!  

The music was playing.  Anticipation was building.  The gun went off.  We didn't move. Queue awkward silence.  Takes some time for the hoards of people in front of us to make their way into the water, but before we knew it, we were approaching the waters edge.  I grabbed each of their hands and we walked in together.  Bob and Brendan were right there going nuts cheering us on!

Oh boy.  I definitely seeded myself too far back.  I'm no Michael Phelps, but when I'm swimming over swimmer after swimmer, I'm at the wrong party.  I kept trying to find clear water, as per James Christie, but I couldn't find any.  

What were these people doing?!?  I got kicked in the head and grabbed for the first 1.2 miles.  I wanted to yell at each and every one of them 'press your T zone down! Your feet will come right up and you can stop whatever you think you are doing with them!!!'  Obviously this wasn't the time for an impromptu swim clinic, so I just kept calm and swam on.  

"One, two three, breathe.  One, two, three, breathe.  One, sight, breath..."  That was all I kept telling myself.  I wouldn't let any other thoughts get in my head.   When I heard Mike Riley over the loud speaker, I knew I was finishing up with the first loop.  Stepped out of the water to hit the second loop and there was Gina with a giant smile on her face.  Yay!

The second loop was much better than the first.  I was able to find mostly clear water the whole way by swimming all the way to the left with the kayaks.  I  stayed nice and smooth and enjoyed the swim.  I did have one little run in when it was time to bottle neck to the swim exit.  I looked over and thought... Is that???  Nooooo.  When I stepped out of the water I realized it was... Chris Casey.  Ooops.  Sorry for the underwater dust up.  We ended up getting our wet suits stripped together by Brendan and Bob! Swim was in the books.

Running up to transition with Chris.

me: why are we running?

chris: i don't know.  feels like we should be.

me: true

Transition:

Grabbed my bag off the rack and made my way into the transition tent.  Completely full service. The second I sat down a volunteer was there asking me If I needed help.  Sure.  She took my bag and quickly passed me things.  Socks.  Bike shoes. Sun glasses.  Not only did she point me to the bathroom, but she walked me there and made sure I was good before she wished me luck and went back to the tent.  Bathroom break one (of many) in the books and I was off to get my bike.

Seriously, they just call out your number over a mega phone and someone brings you your bike!

Bike:

The plan for the bike: great advice from a friend: a nice scenic bike tour of the beautiful Adirondack mountains.

Coming out of transition I saw Andy Jacobs at the tight left. He was wearing a rainbow mohawk wig and advising riders to use caution around the tight turn.  "Andy!" and right behind him spectating was Vinny O!  I took a second to let this awesomness sink in before returning to the task at hand.  Wet road.  Quick decent through town.  Must. Feather. Brakes.  

The first loop of the bike was technically uneventful.  I was extremely cautious on the descents and made sure to stay to the right.  Early on, Dana found me.  It was nice to see a friend on the coarse.  She raced Lake Placid before and helped ease my nerves.  I was nervous about my stomach (it was already whispering promises of trouble to me) and she said there were plenty of rest stops and not to worry.  Whatever needs I may have would be met on course.  She was right.

I had my watch set to beep every 15 minutes to remind me to hydrate.  Every other beep I also took in some calories either in the form of Perpetuum, EFS, or food.  The food, however, was short lived.  I had a honey stinger which was fine and then followed it up later with a GU.  Fail. After that GU, I felt bad things happening in my belly.  I'm not sure how many rest stops I stopped at but it was alot of them.  I was able to, um, get things moving at two of them.  The rest of them were false alarms.  

Like I said, other than the tummy issues, the first bike loops was uneventful (a good thing).   I rode with two different packs.  When I had to stop to use the bathroom, I would fall back with one group and then slowly make my way up to the other one.  This went on for much of the day.  

I remember a few things vividly about the first loop.  

• The house blasting Queen's "Bicycle" song (Second loop it was 'We are the Champions') while a girl of about 9 or 10 marched back and forth on the lawn playing a giant lobster pot drum she had hanging in front of her.
• My tri top giving me some major sores under my right arm, and Dana was right, when I needed body glide, one of the ladies at an aid station had a similar product that fixed me right up. Full service.
• The man and the boy sitting roadside playing a bucket and pots for drums.  On the second loop, they took it up a notch, and the boy had a giant pot on his head that they were both using as a drum as well. Good stuff.
• Hoola-hoop lady.
• The crazy group right before 'the bears' coaxing riders to pop and wheelie.  (Don't mind if I do.)  
• The aid station with all the super hero costumes.
• Giant bubble lady.  
• Seeing Mary Luke at two aid stations. 
• The cyclist with the barbie affixed under his saddle with a missing shoe, and the other rider with Jesus Freak on the back of his bike jersey.  

Coming back into town, I made my way to special needs.  When they handed me my bag, I immediately grabbed my Perpetuum and EFS powder.  I wasn't thrilled with either at this point, but it was my only option.  Regular food wasn't happening.  Hrrrrrmmmm, guess I forgot to put in the extra water and bottle to mix the EFS and Perpetuum.  I put the powders in and asked the volunteer if they had any water.  No.  Um, ok.  Out to the second loop with a dry bike in search of an aid station.  I was in a perpetual state of having to use the bathroom anyway, and wasn't overly anxious to ingest anything, so I wasn't really worried.  

The stomach issues continued on the second loop.  Add to the mix; constant burping.  If it helped to alleviate the gurgling in my stomach, I would have welcomed them, but they were just annoying.   I was also letting out some major heavy sighs.  I didn't realize I was doing until the riders next to me started to laugh. LOL.

The sun broke through the clouds on the second loop and it made for some really beautiful views of the mountains.  I tried to soak up as much as I could until about mile 90 or so. At this point, my stomach was giving me the middle finger and I began to feel really dizzy.  I felt completely sea sick and could no longer stand being in aero.  I basically shut everything down. I just pedaled and set my sights on the road 3 feet in front of me.  Nothing else.  No more bubble lady, or clouds, or marching girl playing a lobster pot.  No more joking with other cyclists about my heavy sighs or wheelies on the bears.  Just head down riding.   It just was... dizzy.  I wasn't upset about it in the least.  I just kept moving forward.  I guess I was saving the pity party for the run.  Spoiler alert!  

Transition 2:

No shocker that I was a bit confused coming into T2.  There was nobody in front of me to follow and the signs just seemed confusing.  Oh, there's a person, "follow it around this way?"  "Yes. Just follow it around."  Ahhhh. Ok. Get me off this bike.

Wow, things certainly were funky in that tent.  I was a bit unsteady on my pins and still had to change out my shorts, get my hydration belt on (mental note not to wear that thing again), visor, switch out glasses, socks, compression sleeves...  Thank goodness for such a great volunteer.  I would still be in that tent trying to make heads or tails of things if not for her.  She kept me on point and walked me out to help me fill my bottles.  I filled two up with EFS powder, which at this point I couldn't stomach, but knew I had to get calories in and this seemed like the best bet.  I also grabbed my zip of Gu's and threw them in my back pocket even though I was pretty sure the one I had early on the bike was still trying to eat it's way out of my stomach.

The Run:

I made it to the run, and I knew I would finish at this point.  It was a good feeling.  The first loop was really great. My plan for the run was to stay very conservative till mile 20 and give it everything I had the last 6 miles.  I was no longer dizzy, but really couldn't even think about taking in any solids.  My stomach was no longer like a volcano ready to erupt, but it was still warning me to watch my step.  Running out of town was as awesome as everyone had said and I felt the urge to let the hill pull me along faster than I knew I should be going. I fought the urge, slowed myself down, and enjoyed the crowds of people. Before I knew it I was on the rolling out and back.

I saw almost everyone on that out and back.  Dana, Tara, Chris, Mike, Heidi, Joe Jr. and Sr., Ginger, Tommy... and there was Mike.  All smiles.  "We're doing it, Mike!  What?"

"I think I broke my hand! But I'm still smiling!!!!!"

He lifted up his arms and they were all bloody.  WTF?  He flipped the bike.  "I'm fine," he told me and we kept going our separate ways.

Then I saw Anthony.  He was walking and I could tell his spirits were down.  As we passed each other he told me he wasn't going to make the cutoff.  Huh?  I knew he must have been confused because he had plenty of time to make it.  I had no time to tell him this in the three seconds it took us to pass each other, but I'm sure he would figure it out.

Coming into town again, I shuffled up the hill.  I felt a blister starting to develop on the bottom of my big toe! OMG.  The new socks that the guy at the expo promised me would keep my feet from blistering were causing a blister!  Queue Bob jumping out of the crowd.  Awwww, Bob.  I starting tearing up.  I gave him the biggest hug and told him I loved him.  He just laughed and hugged me back.  Maybe he said something else, but I had no idea.  I was feeling awesome. Toe be dammed!

At special needs, I unloaded my Gu's.  Never touched any of them, but couldn't bring myself to throw them out along the way.  Table scraps to the bitter end!  I don't think I grabbed anything in that bag, and I was off for the second loop. Quick stop on the side of the road to give my laces a retie.  I didn't want to give up on my new fancy socks, but if this didn't stop the big toe from rubbing they would have to go.  Coming back out of town, I was still feeling great.  I was joking with all the silly characters on the side of the road and I still had a huge smile on my face.  M toe stopped rubbing. Score.

When I hit the turn to the out and back, I was done with the EFS.  I spilled everything out of the two bottles and kept water in the one I held, but I needed to start taking in calories.  I had no idea what I had consumed the first loop.  Not alot and I still hadn't used the bathroom at all (nor did I for the rest of the marathon).  I started to drink the coke, take an orange here and there, and suck the salt off the pretzels and spit them out. When chicken soup was offered I took a sip. That's how I got through the run.  I knew better than to push my stomach.  There were grapes on the course.  I love grapes.  The thought of them made my stomach turn.

It started to rain just as my legs started to give out and the zipper on my tri top started chaffing my skin.  The zipper I could fix.  I unzipped it a bit and kept moving it to a different spot when the chaffing started again.  I was getting cold and knew this probably wasn't a great sign as I saw other people still taking the ice cold sponges.  I let my mind wander to Mike.  I was worried that maybe he got taken off the course at an aid station.  His arms were really bloody.  Was there some sort of policy about that?  I had no idea, but I let my mind go there and my spirits started to spiral.

I was distracted by a father walking with his daughter right before the turn around.  "Would it help if we splinted it with a branch from the woods?" he asked her. "No, dad.  I think I'll be fine." I started welling up.  My head was spinning with emotions and my legs were screaming at me to walk.  Just keep moving forward. When I saw them again, she had a huge branch taller than she was and she was using it to help her hobble along.  Her sister was with them now and the father was urging her to go on ahead while she was arguing to walk with them.  "We'll be fine.  Just go race your race!"  Here were these people busy being amazing while I was maranating in my own emotional and phisical discomfort.  I was pathetic. 

I surrendered not to long after to walking even between aid stations.  I was trying to quell the dark thoughts by repeating over and over to 'chase 20.'  Get to 20 however you can.  Then I saw Mike. It was just all too much. The girl with the giant walking stick, her sister, my sister, the cold, my kids, my legs, world hunger...  He had a grin from ear to ear and I couldn't even say anything. I starting sobbing like a baby.

He was right there.  We did it!  We were both going to finish!   Ooooohhhh, but I couldn't stop crying.  What's that about?  I was happy, but I couldn't get out of the pity party I created in my head. There was a woman at the side of the road yelling into a construction cone.  She was encouraging me as I walked by weeping.  I'm not sure what she was saying, but I could tell she was sincere.  The further I got from her, the louder she yelled at me. When I started shaking, I forced myself to pull it together.  Shaking was not good path to go down when I was already cold, most likely dehydrated, and a complete emotional jellyfish.  Come on now, Kay!  I started to run again, and I heard the woman start going nuts into the cone.  "I knew you could do it!!!!!"

There was Chrissy Brooks.  I smiled.

Chrissy, you're an Ironman!

Well not yet, I still have to finish.

Nah, you got this.

And she did.

Then came Anthony.  We gave each other a quick happy hug.

You made the cutoff.

Yes, I made the cutoff.

Awesome.

Yeah.

The final person I passed was Joe C.  When I saw him, I knew that everyone from SSTC would finish and it was a very very very happy moment for me.

Back to the task of getting this thing done.  Approaching the hills into town, I was walking alot. My legs were fried and I was cursing this whole Ironman business. Lots of profanity and promises of 'never again.'  At this point the whole thing was dumb.  I think I actually used that word.  The shuffle up the hill was... well... just... painful.  I knew I should be so incredibly happy, but I was in pain.  People were cheering and looking for high fives.  The thought of slapping someone's hand?  Not happening.  They would have knocked me right over.

Coming back up the hill I saw Jackie and started crying again. She immediately ran out next to me and grabbed my hand.  "Do you want me to walk with you?"  I just nodded 'no.'  If she did, I would not have stopped crying. She was with everyone else and I just couldn't pull it together enough to smile.  Every step was like someone was taking a bat to my legs.  (OMG, I'm so dramatic).  The crowds that I loved on the first loop were really just too loud on the second.  I wanted to give them all a 'shushy.'  I longed to be in the quite of the out and back even if it meant running more.

I was finally on the last bit by the lake.  A little over two miles left to go. It started to get dark and there was someone projectile vomiting on the side of the road.  Oh my.  I could hear Mike Riley in the distance and my spirits started to lift slightly, as dragged myself forward.  

On the final stretch before the oval Ken came out into the street to walk with me.   I told him that I was just 'done' and my legs were fried and I had like three major breakdowns on the course. Just like Dana, he had a very calming effect on me.  We talked about who knows what (although after the fact, he said I was still cracking jokes... I don't remember any of that) and before I knew it, he turned to me and said very matter of factly, "Ok, Andrea, time to run it into the oval. Go be an Ironman."  I wanted to give him the biggest hug but didn't want to lose it again, so I kept going.  

That was it.  I ran into the oval and my head was spinning with excitement.   I saw Keith and Mel smiling and cheering me on as I took the last turn.  I could feel the energy of the crowd in the air. I just kept running... waiting... running... listening...  

Andrea Kay, you are an Ironman!

Medal:

I came through the finishers chute to the sight of Bob grabbing the medal out of random volunteers hands.  He and Gina put the medal around my neck and Bob gave me a big hug and told me that he and Gina had a fight as to who would put the medal around my neck.  Happy sigh.  I turn to Gina and gave her a big hug and, you guessed it, started to cry again!!!!  She just let me 'have at it' and when I was done, she asked me how I felt. I told her my legs hurt and she took me right to the massage tent.  I could barely walk and wasn't interested in anything at all to eat or drink, but still forced myself to choke down a chocolate milk.  It was not at all refreshing.

Post race: 

Walking out of the massage tent, I immediately started shivering and Gina bee lined it for medical.   I told them I was extremely cold and a man took me to the hot spot.  Literally.  There was a giant vent in the back of the med tent blowing out hot air.  It was amazing!  He also put a giant wool blanket over me and took off my shoes. 

How was the race?

It was really great.

How did you do?

I did good.

What was your time?

I have no idea.

Oh yeah, this was a timed event.  I should probably know my time.

14:21:53

Gina never left my side the rest of the evening.  She walked me to my room and waited till I showered.  I kept telling her to go to the oval and be with everyone finishing, and she kept insisting she wasn't leaving me.   Good lord, I can't even type this without getting emotional. She took such great care of me!!!

We went back together and watched the rest of our friends finish.  It was amazing to watch them come through the finishers chute hearing there names being called out by Mike Riley. Simply amazing all around.  

Afterthoughts:

Although you race alone, there is no way possible (at least for me) I could have gotten there without lots of help. Lots of all day play dates for Emma while I got my long rides in during the week.  Lots of early evening drop offs at Kath's so I could open water swim at tobay.  I don't think my family saw me in regular clothes all spring or summer. It was my tri gear or pajamas.  I can't thank Lorraine, Michele and Kathy enough for absolutely always being there to take the kids.  No questions asked.  I'm lucky.

My whole tri family.  We may be a dysfunctional family, but it's family.  I spent more waking hours with many of them than I did with Rich leading up to the race.  So many great memories of group rides, rainy rides, freezing rides, snowy runs, trail runs, rainy runs, blisteringly hot runs, tri camp... all leading up to an amazing 6 days up in Lake Placid with some of my favorite people.

Training for an Ironman is an incredibly selfish endevour.  It wasn't the most important thing in my life in the 6 months leading up to the race, but both Rich and I decided, in order to have the very best chance at finishing, it had to be the most important thing those last 8 weeks, and like always, he had my back every step of the way.  I couldn't ask for a more supportive husband.  He doesn't have to 'get it,' this triathlon stuff, but loves me so incredibly that he just goes with it.  Whatever 'it' happens to be at the time.  Those that know us know I'm the lucky one, and they are absolutely right.  I'm one lucky beotch, and he doesn't know it yet, but we will finish an Ironman together one day.

Next year, we head up to Lake Placid as a family to volunteer and sign up for 2015.  All that 'never again?'  That was never going to happen.