(Continued from yesterday: IMLP Race Report Part 1: Everybody was Kung Fu Swimming.)
Immediately after you exit T1, the bike course makes a short descent on a narrow strip of gravel and goes directly into almost 180-degree turn. This area is lined with other bikers trying to clip into their pedals and spectators trying to catch a glimpse of their athletes.
Suffice to say, it’s a tight squeeze.
Rather than get caught up in the throng, I walked my bike to an open space just after the apex of the turn.
I clipped in and was off for 112 miles in the shining sun. No rain for us today!
I took a mental check of how I was feeling. The queasiness had completely subsided, and I was feeling good, strong and mentally ready. It was time to execute the bike plan.
The first part of this plan dictated a conservative pace for the climb out of town. So, I settled in and mentally prepared myself for the day, which in terms of elevation looks like this:
It seems I was not the only one who had a 1:30ish swim time because as I started the bike, I was in an absolute THRONG of bikers. As we started up the first climb out of town, I felt like I was in the Tour de France Peloton – we were so lumped up, which was complicated by some cyclists who were all over the road.
TIP: Please, ride to the right if you aren’t actively passing.
This throng was very helpful for ensuring that I stuck to my race plan. I had no choice but to go slow because there was almost no where to go.
TIP: Be alert on this climb out of town. I narrowly avoided several bikers who were a little wobbly after the swim, and they were weaving a torturous line on this climb. Keep your eyes ahead to avoid them.
Learning some new tricks
By the time we got to the descent, which is roughly 10 miles into the course, the pack had thinned, but it was still congested.
The first part isn’t that steep and it is incredibly scenic. I was mentally prepared to fly through this part.
Yet, two things got in my way: 1) another athlete who was all over the road grabbing his nutrition and monkeying around with a chain that looked like it was about to drop, and 2) a stiff head wind.
Crap, I thought, this is supposed to be “free” time.
Yet, there I was trying to avoid William (name on race bib) as he wobbled all over the road, and the wind forced me to pedal as if I were on a flat.
On the steeper sections of the downhill, the wind was blowing hard enough that I barely had to hit my brakes. Usually, I will feather the brakes so much that my hands hurt. This time, however, I only needed to tap them two or three times.
I have to admit, it made me feel kinda brave, and I pulled out some bike handling skills I didn’t even know I had. On one of the turns, I stuck my knee out and leaned into the turn. Okay, yes, this is basic cornering. But, it was the first time I ever did it at a speed greater than 12 mph.
I also learned how to do something else for the first time on the descent, which involved a little something about a bathroom break. 😉 While my poor mother is probably moaning in disgust, I have to admit, I was pretty proud of this stunt. Yet more evidence of the primal freedom that comes with triathlon.
TIP: If you go for the bathroom-on-a-bike, grab an extra water at the next aid station and wash yourself down with it. Sitting in that for the rest of day can lead to some nasty saddle sores. Trust me on this one.
Getting to the bottom of the big descent always brings with it feelings of relief. As you come to the bottom, you make a sharp left, to head from Keene into Jay. This part of the course is flat and fast. On race day, we had a steady head/crosswind that blew diagonally into our faces.
I settled in and worked this section as hard as my race plan allowed, staying within my IM heart rate zone. Several times, I had to catch myself from working too hard, too soon.
Patience, I repeated to myself. Patience.
The Best Spectators
Along the route, there were plenty of enthusiastic spectators. The ones I remember most clearly are those that lined the course along route 86 (see map above).
I saw an older gentleman standing outside of his house, playing ragtime music from an old-fashioned radio. He looked like something out of a John Cougar Mellencamp video. He had such a sweet demeanor about him; I took a double and then a triple take.
He gave me a thumbs up. I smiled.
Ain’t that America, for you and me…
This section also included a group of drummers who kept a perfect beat for climing, and a couple who sat beneath the shade of a tree along with a pair of their pet goats.
Yes, you read correctly: goats.
When I came around on the second loop, one of the goats was munching on the woman’s shoe while she alternated between petting his head and clapping for the athletes.
Ain’t that America, something to see, baby…
The spectators at Wilmington Notch campground, which is a challenging section of the course that comes just after you pass Whiteface Mountain, deserve a special shout out. While they were not necessarily large in number, they made up for that with their boisterous and nonstop cheering throughout the day.
I gave them a few fist pumps and a smile, and they went insane. It felt good to hear them say things like:
“Wow! She’s looking strong!”
“You go, Maria! Keep smiling girl!”
“You are killing it, Maria! Keep on going!”
TIP: Yes, it hurts. Yes, it’s hard. Yes, at certain points, it even sucks. Yet, as Shakespeare reminds us: nothing is good or bad but thinking makes it so. Negative thoughts will only hurt your performance, leading to a downward spiral. If you tell yourself, “I can’t,” then you likely won’t.
On the flip side, positive thoughts can only help. Remember the little engine that could? Use the energy of the spectators to help you get there if you have to. Send them a little smile, give a little fist pump – even if you don’t feel it. Those crazy Lake Placid spectators (the best of any race I’ve done) will return the love tenfold and help keep you moving.
Before I knew it, I was at the infamous “three bears” section of the course: Mama Bear, Baby Bear, Papa Bear. As I’ve written before, I don’t think these three hills are really that hard. But, Papa Bear might be the most fun, as it is lined with spectators wearing costumes, carrying signs, running along with you as you climb. Think Tour de France here.
Ain’t that America, home of the free, yeah!
These people are going absolutely ballistic, and it’s as if the sheer power of their shouts alone propel you up this hill. After the bears, it’s a right turn into the village, where my family and friends were waiting at Team U Crazy headquarters.
As I came round the hot corner, where my family was, I noticed they were all kicked back. They didn’t realize I was coming!
I screamed, “I see you Team Crazy! I’m rockin’ this bike, baby!”
They lept to their feet and started cheering as if someone had poked their backsides with a branding iron. It was hilarious!
I had wanted to finish the first loop in 3:30, but as I came around the back of the high school, my garmin read 3:38.
Damn.
I had mixed feelings. I was disappointed because I wasn’t hitting my “mark.” (And, this goal wasn’t even my “stretch” goal. It was my “realistic” goal – or so I thought.) On the other hand, I was proud of myself because I was riding well and felt incredibly strong.
It’s a long day out there
As I began the second loop, I hit the climb out of town more aggressively. I wasn’t that far away from averaging 16 mph; I had to go for it.
However, as I rode the descent and the flats, the wind made it very difficult for me to hit my goal pace without spiking my heart rate too much. With the final set of bike climbs and a marathon looming, I couldn’t risk it. So, I stayed within a manageable zone, even though that meant sacrificing my desired speed.
I was moving along, feeling good, and then as I hit mile 80, I felt it. After weeks of feeling better, the pain in my right leg was back.
I knew it wouldn’t go away, so I did what I had to do. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my “emergency” pack, which includes Tums, endurolytes and Alieve. I fished out an Alieve and swallowed it.
TIP: Pack a ziploc baggie with your emergency items. You can either stick these items in one of your shirt or bike short pockets, or safety pin them to the back of your race bib. Wherever you put it, make sure you’ll have it with you for both the bike and the run. (In case you are wondering about the Tums: they can be very effective for stomach and muscle cramping.)
Within 15 minutes the pain was gone, but the fear of what it would mean on the run lingered in the back of my mind.
In the final 16 miles of the ride, where the major climbing began anew, the evidence of the toll that an Ironman takes was apparent. I saw and/or heard about a half a dozen ambulances during the second loop. (Last year, I only saw one.) Each time one passed, I said a silent prayer for my fellow athlete, and it served as a not-so-subtle reminder of properly pacing oneself. I felt secure in my decision to stick with my plan.
At one point, I passed a man laying flat on his back–snow angel style–along the side of the road. I slowed down.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I just got lightheaded.”
Not good. The sun was blazing, and he was laying on hot ashphalt. I looked at my water bottle. It had about two sips left in it, and the Perform in my aero bottle was disgustingly warm.
Double not good.
Several hundred feet ahead was a spectator. I rode quickly to her.
“Do you have water? There’s a man laying on the ground back there.”
“Yes! I’ll get him.” She grabbed a phone, some water, and ran down the street. A few minutes later, an ambulance passed me, heading in the direction of the man I saw.
Triple not good.
TIP: It’s a really long day out there. Make sure you have a strategy for ensuring proper hydration and nutrition. I like to set my watch so it beeps every 15 minutes, reminding me to drink and/or eat. You may think that you’ll remember, but as the day wears on, you will likely lose track of time. Take the guess work out of your fueling and hydration. It could be the difference between finishing or not.
The final 12 miles of the Lake Placid bike course are notorious, not necessarily because they are the hardest 12 miles you’ll ever ride, but because they might be the most cruelly relentless when you’ve already ridden 100 miles. You are just climbing, climbing, climbing, with only the briefest whisper of a downhill and the frustrating illusion of the false flats.
Despite all of this, I felt really strong at this point. I enjoy climbing – I like the way it makes my legs feel, I like the way it makes my lungs feel. Of course it hurts, but it’s a pain I can endure and even enjoy–as far as pain goes, anyway.
As I passed the other bikers, I saw that many were wiggling in their seats, standing up and sitting down frequently, heaving with their torso–all signs of fatigue.
I wasn’t going to let them give in to the pain.
The race bibs that we wear have our names on them, and during the bike, we are required to wear the bibs on our backs. So, I could see the names of the people as I passed them. I offered whatever words of encouragement I could.
“Here we go, Neal, final push into town!”
“Nice climbing, Heather. We are going to do this today!”
“That’s it, Kevin. Steady brings us home.”
“This is it, Emily! We are rockin’ these rollers, baby!”
While I know not everyone likes it when another racer talks to them, I felt compelled to offer whatever I could as we all gave the final push into town before we started the final leg of this epic Ironman journey. I hope my words helped the other athletes; I know it put a little pep in my pedal.
In what seemed like a blink, I was back in the village of Lake Placid, rounding the corner where my family was. This time, they knew I was coming. As with the swim, I saw my brother first.
“You go, Maria!”
Then, I slowed down because I wanted an update on John.
“John?” I yelled to him mom, Jeanne.
She waved her hand and pointed, “He’s waaayyyy out there on the run already.”
I knew I would see him coming in off his second loop as I started off on my first. So, I headed into T2, and gladly passed my bike off to the waiting volunteer.
It had taken me 7 hours, 12 minutes and 51 seconds, for an average of 15.52 mph. I went from being in 79th place in my division following the swim to 69th place in my division following the bike. (Note: This is wetsuit & nonwetsuit combined result.)
I shaved 15 minutes off my bike time from last year. I was hoping for at least 30 minutes, a deficit which leaves me disappointed.
However, I’m also proud of my bike because I worked it about as hard as I could have. At this point, I really wish I had a power meter so I could judge my performance based on watts, rather than speed. Given the fierce winds, it’s hard to judge the full extent of my cycling improvement.
Following the bike, I had a great T2, taking only 4 minutes, which even included a bathroom break! I headed out of transition, to the cheers of thousands of people.
As I began running, I could feel the tweek in my leg.
