The Lake Placid Ironman was held on Sunday, July 26, 2009, with 2051 athletes finishing the race, according to the official race results (2258 began the race, but 207 athletes did not finish). For those of you who may not know, the Lake Placid Ironman is a 140.6 mile race that must be completed within 17 hours. It consists of a 2.4 mile swim, followed by a 112 mile bike (over some seriously mountainous terrain), and finished with a marathon (26.2 miles). There is little dispute that this event is tough stuff. But, these numbers only tell a very small part of the ironman story.
The athletes are positively amazing in their ability to overcome various challenges just to toe the starting line. One of the more well-known stories of this year’s event is that of Matt Long, a NY firefighter who was run over by a bus in 2005 (for some history on his experience, see this article from Runner’s World). We saw him as he ran through the swim chute, and John was able to snap this picture, catching him as he ran toward T1. We were a little star struck when we saw him, so we didn’t get the picture until he had already passed.You can view part of his inspirational finish, just 4 minutes before the cutoff, here.
The day before the race we met Jamie, who had volunteered at the 2008 race so that he could participate in this year’s event. He had planned to be competitive in his age group, but in April he had to have knee surgery. Despite this setback, Jamie adjusted his goals, and was able to finish the ironman by walking the marathon. With a strong swim and bike, he was able to make the 17 hour cutoff with almost 90 minutes to spare. The wounds on his knee may have been fresh, but his will was strong. Some athletes competed in memory of a loved one, others raced for charity. We met Tom Burrell, from Michigan, at our campground the morning after the race. After making impressive changes in his life, Tom has completed 2 Ironmans–both in the name of charity. You can read about his work and commitment by clicking this link. (For other athletes’ stories, check out this link.)
And, all of the athletes were racing to feel alive. Their smiles at the finish line were tell-tale evidence of that! But, before we get to the finish line, let’s go to the starting line.
Our alarm went off at 4 a.m. I nudged John and said, “It’s 4 a.m.” He replied, “No it’s not.” We had been up well before the sun for two days in a row (day before at 3:30 a.m.), and I guess John had hoped he could use his mental powers to turn the clock back an hour or so and buy us some more sleep. It didn’t work. We had volunteered to work the 5 a.m.-10 a.m. shift, which put us on the swim chute leading to transition 1 (see the previous post for information about this volunteer work). It had rained throughout the night, but by 5 a.m. the rain had let up. Yet, as the sun began to color the sky, it was clear there were more dark clouds heading our way. I hoped that the rain would be done before the athletes had to start–or at least before they had to get on their bikes. Well, it’s always nice to hope. The threat of rain only added to the pre-race tension that had many of the athletes on edge. After months and months of preparation, the day had arrived. I was only volunteering and I was nervous – I can only imagine how they felt!
Unfortunately, the rain starting coming down as the swim began. It was raining so hard at some points that it created a little river that ran down the side of the swim chute. The carpets, which were laid to protect the athletes’ feet as they ran to T1, started to come undone and slide down the side of the hill. Uh-oh. The first pro would be coming out of the water in about 20 minutes. We worked furiously to reset the carpets. In some cases we had to stand on them to keep them from sliding. My hopes were realized later, however, as the rain let up before most of the swimmers started coming out of the water. By the time most of the athletes got to their bikes, the rain had stopped – there were clouds, but no droplets.
At 10 a.m., our volunteer shift ended, and John and I decided to run the marathon course, which is a two-loop course, part of which follows the bike course. So, as we ran, we were able to cheer on the cyclists, as well as get a preview of what the run is like. As the run winds out along River Road, it becomes harder for spectators to get there valium because the roads are closed to traffic. But, there is about a mile of signs that were handmade by the families and friends of the athletes, with inspirational, motivational, and humorous statements. One sign said, “Go, Kevin! Make this race your B@tch.” I laughed when I saw that one. Another sign read, “This road leads to Kona! Go Maureen.” I don’t know who Maureen is, but I really hope she qualified. (Note: Seventy two finishers qualified for the October Kona race.) One sign said, “We’ll get you ice cream at the finish line!” I can only imagine how great it must have been to read these signs while working through the last leg of an ironman.
After we ran, we sat at the wall that overlooks the Olympic Oval. From this vantage point, we were able to see the cyclists as they were coming in from their 112 mile ride. The spirit of endurance was alive at this point.
One woman we saw (shown here) had some problems with her bike, and was unable to ride, but she ran it in to the transition area. I couldn’t help but marvel at her commitment to keep going – no matter what happened. When plan A fell through, she moved onto plan B. That’s a valuable lesson that breathes new life into the old adage: never give up.
As we watched the athletes come in, we talked with the family members and friends of these athletes. The triathlon (and marathon) community is a special one, and you are able to talk with strangers as if they are old friends. I heard great stories from parents who were watching their son or daughter do their first, third or 23rd ironman. Significant others and friends waited nervously for a glimpse of their athlete. After watching their athlete pass through, they would hurry to the area where the athletes would leave T2 to cheer them on as they began the marathon. After watching the bikers for an hour or so, we heard the announcer say the first place finisher was about 10 minutes away from the oval.
After eight hours, 36 minutes and 37 seconds, the winner, Maik Twelsiek, finished the event. (More results can be found at http://www.ironmancenter.com/results/results.php).
He came into the oval with a definitive 20 minute lead over the second place finisher. As he ran through the spectators, he slapped hands with spectators who had their hands held out, he raised his arms and shooks his fists in victory. It was quite a site!
The first female finisher was Tereza Macel (who was first out of the water with a swim time of 50:48). Her time was 9 hours, 29 minutes and 36 seconds, about 12 minutes ahead of the second place female finisher. She was 12th place overall!
After she finished, the announcer interviewed her, and she was a model of sportsmanship. Given her commanding lead, the announcer asked, “When were you able to relax and think that you definitely had the win?” Despite her commanding lead, Macel responded (loosely paraphrased), “I think I knew it after I entered the oval. Anything can happen in an Ironman and you can’t take anything for granted.” I admired her graciousness at a time when she was clearly pumped–which is evident from the photo we took here.
While the performance of the professional athletes is indeed impressive, it was the everyday “age group” athletes that I wanted to see finish. Excitement and joy replaced the tension of the early morning hours. I watched as wives and husbands, with shirts that read “I’m an iron wife” or “My wife is an ironman” clap and cheer as they watched their loved one cross the finish line. Children wore shirts that read: “My mommy is an ironman” or “Go, Daddy #811.” And through it all, the announcer never skipped a beat as he called each athlete’s name and said, “You’re an ironman!” It sounded special each time he said it.
We stayed at the oval, watching finishers until around 9:30 p.m. Then, we walked up the run course a bit and cheered on the runners who were finishing the last leg of the marathon. Here, the spirit of endurance continued, as athletes despite the pain and extreme fatigue, plugged through the final miles to the oval. The magic of the day had solidified my desire to hear that announcer say, “Maria Simone – YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!” We woke up the next morning at 5:30 a.m., headed to town and stood in line for 2 hours to register. As I left the Lake Placid High School, where registration was taking place, I felt like I was on American Idol and I had just gotten my golden ticket to go to Hollywood. Now, what I do with that ticket is up to me. The next 12 months will teach me much about myself, and I’m looking forward to it.
