Ironman Lake Placid, Part 2

Ironman Lake Placid was a dream I'd had for years. I've volunteered for the past 10 years, including last year when I raced (I did athlete kit stuffing on the Monday before the race). I always work at an aide station on the run course, and I've joked that that's why it took me so long to do the race. The sights you see are inspiring; they are also a bit of a deterrent. The swim is terrifying, but short. The bike is mentally tough because it is long and can be boring. The real physical suffering starts on the run. And only a truly sick person can watch all that suffering and say, "Hey, sign me up!" As I said in my last post, I did over a dozen 3500 meter + swims, including a two-loop swim of Mirror Lake before race day. I've done many century rides over the years. I'd ridden the 112 miles during the Lake Placid Spinervals camp in 2013, and a few times with friends, "just for fun." I'd even done Troy Jacobson's Hard Core 100 Spinervals DVD once indoors on my trainer (I promised myself never again, and I've kept that promise). But, I'd never done a marathon prior to IMLP, and my longest run ever before the race was 16 miles. All of the people I trained with over the year from signup to race day had done IMLP before, and I heard many times that the race doesn't start until the run. I heard all of their war stories of past races. It was kind of like telling a first time mother every labor and birth horror story you know in the months before her due date. So, I was worried about the run.

About the time I signed up, I also went all in on a gluten-free diet. I'd had gut issues for years, especially after I started doing endurance sports and drank the figurative and literal Gatorade. I was sick of suffering from IBS, and it seemed to help. I stumbled across an article about the low carb/high fat diet, and it was exactly what I was looking for. When I started training, I stuck to a strict LCHF diet in my daily life, and used Skratch for hydration and Generation UCAN for nutrition for my long training sessions. One of my training partners was convinced I wasn't taking in enough carbs, and that would bite me in the ass on race day. As I watched him suffer from bloating and discomfort and desperate searches for bushes or trees big enough for him to duck behind during our long rides and runs, I was pretty confident I was on the right track. As race day drew closer, I experienced some tight IT band issues and visited my chiropractor. He asked me what I thought my finishing time would be, and I confided in him that, if I had the perfect day, I thought I could finish in around 13 hours--1:40 for the swim, 6:30 for the bike, and 4:30 for the run. Add 20 minutes for transitions, and there you go. Everyone else got the "just want to finish" answer. It's a long day. A lot can happen and I didn't want to jinx myself. He had also done IMLP before (when you live in this area, you can't swing a dead cat in a room of fit people without hitting a couple of IMLP veterans). He suggested that I walk all of the aide stations to be sure I get water and food in, and that I walk the two big hills, Lisa G.s and the ski jumps. We had a rule during training, absolutely no whining. That wasn't easy. We had to remind each other frequently. As race day approached, we added three more: no hanging on the "lily pads" on the swim, no drinking the broth on the run, and no crying until the finish line.

It's now race week and I wanted to experience all that I could in case it is my one and only Ironman. We waited quite awhile to book a place to stay. Lake Placid is close enough to drive, but I thought it would be fun to be there in the middle of everything. A couple of months before the race, we rented rooms at a place just outside of town. We headed up on Thursday before the race. I checked out the room as my husband checked in. The door was unlocked, so I walked in and looked around. Within a few minutes, I felt something bite me and looked down to see my legs covered with fleas! I ran outside and swatted and wiped and stomped my feet until I had them all off. I had to take off my sneakers and hit them on the ground to be sure I got all the fleas out. My husband went back and demanded a refund, while I called our friends who were also staying there, and then called around looking for any available rooms in town. I got lucky right away. The Crowne Plaza had rooms, and we booked on the spot. More expensive and worth every penny. And no fleas. I did the Underpants Run on Friday morning, which was followed by Greg Bacon's Meat and Greet at the beach at Mirror Lake. I chatted up Mike Reilly there for a couple of minutes. That was a dream come true! Checked in, got my prized wristband, listened to the athlete briefing, and went to the opening ceremony and watched the video. I soaked it all in.

Start of the Underpants Run at Mirror Lake.

Mike Reilly at the opening ceremony.

I had a minor freak out on Saturday when my IT band was painfully tight during a short run. I was relaxing in our room Saturday night when I got a text from a friend asking if I was okay and if I needed a place to stay. An apartment above a store next to the Golden Arrow was on fire. Part of the Golden Arrow was evacuated, and rumors started swirling that, because of debris and chemicals washing down into the lake, the swim may be cancelled. I'm ashamed to say that I seized on that bit of news as a ray of hope that I could do an Ironman and avoid facing my biggest fear. I was so convinced it might happen that I was actually able to sleep a little that night. The water was tested the next morning, and as we were getting bodymarked and placing our special needs bags, it was announced the swim was a go. In retrospect, I'm glad it worked out that way, but in that moment, I was terrified. We put our wetsuits on and started walking to the swim start. I almost broke a rule and started to cry, I was so scared. IMLP has a rolling swim start where you self-seed based on your projected finish time. Dan is a very good swimmer, so he was up with the 1:05 or 1:10 people. Bob and I had almost identical swim times, and I had planned to go in the water with him. I had several panicky minutes searching for him in the 1:40 group, but I did finally find him just moments before we went into the water. And, of course, I lost him within seconds.

I guess there's no such thing as an easy Ironman swim. Theoretically, Mirror Lake should be as easy as it gets. You have a cable under the water that is plainly visible and you can follow without having to sight. Of course, all 2500+ athletes want to swim on or near the cable, and it's a battle getting that coveted spot. The one thing I hate and can't seem to get over is the close proximity of other athletes in the water. I figured I'd swim wide left and just follow the bodies. It's a small lake, and when you know people are on the cable and swimming straight, you just have to follow the bodies. That didn't work out very well. If the cable is like a somewhat civilized drag strip, wide of the cable is like the demolition derby. People swimming over the top of me at a 90 degree angle, people hitting and kicking me. One guy put his hand on my hip and aggressively shoved me. When you pack my 115 lbs. into 5 mm of neoprene, I skate across the surface of the water like a leaf in the wind. After about five minutes of the washing machine, I felt the panic start to rise and I lifted my arm for a kayak. I'm not sure what I intended to do, but as soon as I stopped swimming, the water opened up in front of me and I had room to swim. I waved off the kayaker and continued. I did get into a good rhythm, but there was still enough contact and I was having to sight often enough that, as I finished the first loop, I was determined I was getting on that f-ing cable for the second loop. Which I accomplished relatively easily. I think by then, the faster swimmers were done or well into their second loop, so there were just fewer bodies to fight through. And, people were much more civil. If they swam up from behind, they passed to my side instead of over the top of me. And as I (surprisingly!) caught people, I did the same. My calves did start to cramp a little on the second half of the second loop, and I rolled my toe again running out of the water. I had sprained it rather badly at Syracuse. It was black and blue for days all the way down to my mid-foot. And, now, here we go again.

Setting the buoys early on race day.

I survived.

If I had written this blog within days after the race, I don't think I would've recalled much more detail than I can a year later. Call it "flow" or some kind of intense concentration or emotional detachment, but much of the rest of the race seemed to pass, I wouldn't say quickly, but without much mental engagement on my part. Well, except for the first hour on the bike. I was ecstatic to be out of the water, alive, and have that behind me. I had planned before the race to go for comfort in my first Ironman, so I was prepared to do a complete wardrobe change in both transitions. It was a cloudy and cool morning, and was sprinkling a little when I got out of the water. I decided to forego the vest and arm warmers, but somehow I also missed the sunscreen. When I got to my bike, I became inexplicably enraged that there were so few bikes left. I had done the swim in 1:39, and took 12 minutes for T1, so I was very close to where I wanted to be. In any event, I hammered the first almost 40 miles of the bike, I was so angry. The first 10 miles or so are a pretty good climb out of town before getting to the awesome downhill through the Cascades to Keene. Every person I passed on a regular road bike or with a Camelback on, just enraged me even more. I swore at them in my head, "Did you punch me on the swim? Take that, motherf--er, how do you like me now?" I reined my emotions in before I got to the Cascades. I love downhills, but I know enough to ride intelligently and be vigilant about crosswinds and other riders. I did ride most of it in the aerobars, and continued to push through the flat section on 9N from Keene to Ausable Forks and back to Upper Jay. It wasn't until I turned onto 86 and started the climb to Wilmington, that I finally told myself to stop being stupid and rein it in a bit. I was passing people rather easily on the climb to Wilmington, and I knew what was ahead of me, so I dialed back the intensity. I did stop in town to grab nutrition and hydration out of my special needs bag. You feel like a rock star from Poppa Bear until River Road, with all the cheering from the spectators. I took the climb out of town a little more reasonably, and sat up a little more on the downhill, because a cross wind had started up on the second loop. It was getting very hot, and I do remember knowing I had made a bad error missing the sunscreen. It did cloud up and sprinkle a bit, and that felt wonderful. The only other item of note happened as I was climbing through the Notch. It's like one long train of bikes with no consideration being given to staying out of the draft zone of the bike ahead. I was passing pretty much everyone I rode up to, and because they were so close together, I basically just stayed to the left, since there was no room for me to move right after each pass. A motorbike came up alongside me, and the official on the back smiled at me and motioned me right. I kind of shrugged and gestured as if to say, "Where?" He responded by motioning right again a little more emphatically, so I moved right to avoid a penalty. A headwind had come up on the second loop as it often does, and when I moved right, I was suddenly and blissfully out of the wind for a few seconds! I couldn't stay right because I was in someone's draft zone, so I passed and moved right, passed and moved right, all the way to the top. And saved some energy in the process, so that guy did me a huge favor. I completed the bike in 6:34, just a few minutes off my goal time. I didn't negatively split, but my second loop was only a couple of minutes slower than my first, so the angry riding hadn't really hurt me.

Cool as a cucumber, somewhere in the Notch.

Back in T2, I did another wardrobe change, located the sunscreen volunteers, and headed out of the Oval on the run. A friend who is a coach and was there spectating, yelled to me that it was hot and getting hotter, and to grab ice often and put it in my hat. I stuck to my plan of walking every aide station. Despite the heat, I was running pretty easily, keeping to a 10:15-ish pace. I started seeing friends, passing some who were already walking, or meeting some still running coming back from the turnarounds. Every one commented on how hot it was, and while I agreed, I still felt okay, and decided I'd just keep running as long as I could. I walked the two steep hills by the ski jumps and Lisa G's. I do recall feeling some gut discomfort near the end of River Road on the second loop, but it didn't last. The sun wasn't as high in the sky and it was cooling a bit. I really felt pretty good until the last two miles.

On River Road, feeling pretty good.

When I turned the corner to do the out-and-back on Mirror Lake Drive, I was thinking that they must've moved the turnaround further down the road, it just seemed to take forever to get there. I walked a bit, and told myself it was okay, but I needed to start running as soon as I passed the turnaround. I could hear Mike Reilly at this point, and I actually thought I'd maybe run past the Oval and up to my hotel room so I could lie down. I just wanted to stop. I doubled down and started running faster, and when I got into the Oval, I lost all sense of being in the moment. I only wanted to cross that finish line. I heard Mike Reilly say my name, and I broke down. I finally let myself acknowledge that I had done it, that I had completed an Ironman. I sobbed, I hugged everyone.

No caption needed.

 When I watched the video after, I saw that I had passed a woman in the Oval. She slowed down, so she could have her finishing moment. Damn, I was that guy. I regret that, and would do that over if I could. Another rule I should've remembered, unless you're a pro or top age-grouper racing for a slot, you don't sprint to the finish line and ruin someone else's finishing moment and photo. I finished in 13:12 and placed 4th in my age group. T2 was about nine minutes, and I had done the run in 4:37. I never felt the IT band or the toe. Dan was at the finish line eating French fries. I saw my husband at the fence. I did the medal photo, grabbed a water bottle and went over to my husband. Started talking to him and Dan for a few minutes, then I suddenly felt nauseous and had to sit down. Then lie down. On the ground. Some volunteers came over and hustled me to the med tent, where I stayed for the next hour and a half. I had gained a couple of pounds during the race, and after emptying my stomach of lots of fluid, I did feel better. I apparently did too good of a job walking the aide stations and drinking water, and I was a touch hyponatremic. My son worked the massage tent, and unfortunately, he missed my finish by about 20 minutes. When he was done his shift, he sat with me in the med tent, and that was  a huge comfort. I missed Bob's finish, and felt badly about that. Tried to eat back at the hotel, and wasn't able to. But, I was an Ironman, finally! And I podiumed in my age group. I couldn't have scripted it any better; well, I suppose I could've done without the puking. I am an Ironman, and I have to say, it's one of the best feelings in the world.

"Alicia Chase, from Cadyville, NY, You. Are. An. Ironman!"

My friend Bob, giving props to Mike Reilly. Bob won his age group.

4th place AG. My friend, Mary took 1st.

Ironman Lake Placid, Part 1

My intention last year was to blog my training for IMLP. It just didn't happen. Training for an Ironman, working full-time, taking care of family obligations (not always in that order, I hope), just ate up all of my time. If I did have a few free hours, I tried to sleep. No kidding, I barely remember last year. I'm making a promise to myself that I will blog my next Ironman. For now, I will just do my best to recall my training and the race.
When I signed up for IMLP, I knew of one regular training partner who was also doing the race. My friend, Bob, who is 20 years older than me (I'll let you do the math), and who had been a regular training partner for a couple of years, was giving the race another shot. He had raced it three times prior to last year. Turns out, much to my happy surprise, at least seven other people I knew had also signed up. This meant it was possible to have a few people to train with, commiserate with, and just generally support each other on this journey. We started out riding together quite a bit through the fall of 2014. We also ran together a lot through the winter, and occasionally met for swim workouts. We had a pretty mild winter during '14-'15, and I recall that I only did four runs on the treadmill, which is amazing for this part of the country (upstate NY, just 45 miles from Lake Placid). I truly believe that not spending a lot of time on the treadmill really helped me break out of the never-ending running injury cycle. A bunch of us did the Octoberfest Half Marathon in Peru, NY in the fall of 2014 as part of our base-building. A couple of guys from the group, Dan and Jeff are both faster runners than me, but were both battling injuries and de-training. They heard me mention that I'd like to PR at this race, so they ran with me and paced me to a 1:48:01 finish. I knew nothing about the NYC Marathon, so when they told me I could qualify with my time, I thought they were kidding. Dan had a deferral from the previous year, so we decided to sign up for 2015 when it opened. Dan and I also signed up to do the Naples Half Marathon in January--Dan has a condo in the area, and my step-son lives nearby. It was a fun, quick trip during MLK weekend in January 2015. About 2000 people do this race every year. There are cash prizes for pros, masters and five-deep in age groups. The chip-timing system crashed, and it was an incredibly humid day. But, it was fun to race on the course with the Kenyans, and it was Florida in January! No complaints. I finished sixth in my age group, and only missed my PR by two minutes.
Official Ironman training started about the third week of January. As always, I used a Joe Friel training plan. I purchased and uploaded his 140.6 Base, and then Build, Peak and Taper plans to my Training Peaks account. Outdoor riding ended by late October, and it was indoors on the trainer with Spinervals and TrainerRoad. I had read about a new web-based riding app built on a gaming platform, called Zwift. Zwift was in beta during the winter and spring of 2015, and I used it a few times to break up the boredom of indoor riding. As the slowest swimmer in the group, I only joined them occasionally for group swims at the pool. I was about a 2:17/100m swimmer heading into Ironman training. I was getting a lot of advice as to how to fix my stroke and gain speed, and while it was all well-intentioned, it had the opposite effect. Swimming 2.4 miles in open water with 2500 others athletes was basically my scariest nightmare, and one I had voluntarily signed up for. I desperately wanted to improve my swim, but trying to incorporate all the advice had the opposite effect, and this was a huge source of frustration for me. I eventually just focused on being sure I could do the distance and have a reasonable estimate of what my swim time would be. My plan was to swim two loops in Mirror Lake in the summer of 2014 to set a baseline and to Just. Do. It. and get it out of my head. It didn't happen, but I did swim 13 or 14 3500m plus swims in the pool, and I did one 2-loop swim in Mirror Lake a couple of weeks before the race.

Bob, Dan and me about to do our first open water swim in Mirror Lake. I look less than excited.

We vacationed in Florida in April that year. My friend, Dan and his wife were there for the first few days of our stay, and I rented a bicycle from Naples Cyclery. Dan and I rode a few times in Naples together, then I did a couple of rides there and in my step-son's neighborhood on my own. I also got a lot of running in, of course. Flat, beautiful weather, and my step-son's gated community is huge, with lots of wide streets to run in. The swimming didn't go as well. FGCU is only about 10 minutes away, and for a few bucks you can swim in their pools. They have a 25-yard practice/warmup pool, and a 50-meter competition pool, which is sometimes set up crossways with short course lanes. That year, they had some maintenance issues and the pool was closed. I had to make do with the small pool at the local L A Fitness gym (I think it was 20 yards), and my step-son's 10-yard backyard pool. I did 100 laps in that pool one day.
Once I was back from Florida, training was in full swing. I did several bike rides in the 70-80 mile range. I only did one 100 mile ride. It was one I will always remember. It was a Saturday morning early in June. I was meeting Bob and Dan at a park about 10 minutes away. We were riding to Lake Placid and back, so some of the ride would be on the race course. I was almost at the park and was stopped by a sheriff's deputy. She had a pump shotgun at the ready. I was clearly going for a bike ride, dressed in a tri kit, with my bike strapped to the rack on back of my Outback. She took a quick look through my windows and waved me on. When I got to the park, the guys, who came from the opposite direction, commented that they had been stopped by New York State Troopers. Same experience, quick look in the car and waved on. We agreed they were looking for someONE, not someTHING. As close as we are to the Canadian border, drug smuggling is not unheard of. But there were no dogs, and no detailed search for hidden contraband in our vehicles. I jokingly said, "You don't think someone escaped from Dannemora, do you?" Dannemora prison was about eight miles away, and no convict had ever escaped from inside the prison. Until that day. Now, wouldn't you think since we were clearly going to be riding our bikes nearby (on some pretty isolated back roads) they might have mentioned that we should be careful, or alert, or something? Nope. Not a word. We geared up and off we went. As we made our way over the isolated back roads to Lake Placid, we noted NYS Police choppers flying overhead. When we got to Wilmington, Bob (who knows and/or talks to everyone) asked a state trooper at the store we stopped at what was going on. The trooper told us that two convicts had escaped from Dannemora and were at large. I suppose we weren't really in any danger. A tri bike wouldn't make a very good escape vehicle. Still, we had money and cell phones, and Dannemora is a maximum security facility. There aren't any "good" inmates there. We made it home safely, but the next three weeks were spent finding partners for every ride and run, going through checkpoints every time I left home, having law enforcement guarding my school, and even having school cancelled a couple of days because the buses couldn't get through the road blocks. Hard to sleep with the choppers with infrared sensors crisis-crossing over my house all night. The third weekend of June I went to Syracuse to do the 70.3 again. It was a relief to sleep without hearing choppers all night, but on the way home, we got into a convoy of cars leaving Malone and headed to Plattsburgh pretty late at night. Of course, our luck, we were in the middle of law enforcement leaving Owl's Head after the convicts were spotted in the area (one was shot and killed; the other was shot and wounded and taken into custody). Did I mention they were both murderers? Yeah.

It was comforting having a Trooper outside my classroom, not knowing where the escaped convicts were.

 The only other item of note was that I tweaked my left calf on a run in Lake Placid on River Road sometime in April. We had gone up to get the bikes tuned up at Placid Planet. Dan and I were running, with my husband trailing along somewhere in the car. I was running in the dirt off the side of the road, which was still very soft from the spring thaw. Sharp snap and I couldn't even walk. We were almost at the end of River Road, so it was a good thing my husband was nearby, because I had to call him to come and get me. There was no way I was running, or even walking back to town. Of course, that messed with my head in a major way. I wasn't able to run for a few weeks, and by the time the race came, I had only done one long run of 16 miles. As I said many times that year, if you ever want time to fly by, sign up for a race you're convinced you'll never be ready for. Before I knew it, it was July. Stay tuned...

Try, Tri Again

Wow, my last post was almost two years ago. I will say that it means I had an incredibly busy two years...almost all good, some not so good, all time-consuming to the point that my blog wasn't even in the car, much less taking a back seat. Here are the highlights, and I'll try to write separate posts about some of them:
In July, 2014, I volunteered for IMLP again, and this time I signed up for the race. I actually went for the race-ready package, Syracuse 70.3/IMLP 2015, on the Friday before IMLP. Then, I started training. I found a group of about six local friends who had also signed up. We often trained together; we always supported each other.
I ran a few local running races through the fall/spring 2014/2015 as part of my training. I ran the Octoberfest Half in Peru, NY and PRed. It was also a qualifying time for my age group for the NYC Marathon, and so I signed up in January 2015. I did a half marathon in Naples, FL in January 2015. Actually had a decent finishing time, considering how hot and humid the day was. The chip timing system failed, and I unofficially finished sixth AG, just out of the money. Literally. Huge race with pros from Kenya, and there are cash prizes for the first five places in each age group. I highly recommend this race if you get the chance. Planned to run the local Plattsburgh Half in the spring, but got the flu and was running a fever race day, so I had to bail.

My friend, Dan, and me before the sweltering humidty of Naples Half Marathon.

Meanwhile, I started Ironman training in January 2015. I planned to do Syracuse 70.3 as part of my training. I also signed up to do the Lake George Olympic again in early September. NYC was November 1st, and I foolishly signed up to do the Mohawk Hudson Marathon in mid-October. A training partner had signed up to try to qualify for Boston, and I thought it would be "fun" to go and give it a shot. Less than two months after IMLP. Three weeks before NYC. Clearly, I was delusional, but more on that later.
I have mostly used Joe Friel's training plans, and Ironman would be no exception. IMLP was the "A" race. Any other race would be folded into the training plan with maybe a few taper days before, and a rest day or two after. Syracuse 70.3 was five weeks before IMLP, and I did want to do well. My first attempt there the year before netted me a surprising 4th place spot on the podium, with a time of 6:07. For 2015, I really wanted to break six hours if I could. Race day started cloudy and muggy, if I remember correctly. I had a late wave start, around 8:00 a.m. The swim went ok, no horrible calf cramps this time, and a four minute PR over last year. I did catch my second toe of my right foot on something as I was running to transition and rolled the toe. I remember thinking that that was not good, but promptly forgot about it. Bike was similar to 2014, a two minute PR, I believe. The run is freaking hilly, and I'd had to have a cortisone shot in my hip just days before the race the year before, so 2015 definitely should've been better. And it was. The toe did hurt a little, but I'd forgotten what I'd done, and just dismissed it until after the race. Six minute PR on the run, and I finished in 5:55! Very happy with that result, and I felt like I was legit, that 2014 wasn't a fluke. Good enough for 5th place. A bad thunderstorm rolled in about an hour after I finished, and they pulled people from the course (2nd time this has happened, that race is cursed). If you were on your second run loop, they gave you a finishing time; if you weren't, you got a DNF. 2015 Worlds were in Austria, and because of the storm, there was no slot sign-up or awards ceremony. We were mailed our awards, and the slot roll-down was done via email. It came to me, but I turned it down. Wasn't going to happen for a variety of reasons (money, work, other races, etc).

 

 IMLP will be a separate post, as will NYC Marathon. They deserve it. In 2014, I had signed up to do the Lake George Olympic again, went down the night before, everything going really well. Race morning, on the beach in my wetsuit, and I have an episode of SVT (supra ventricular tachycardia). I've had it pretty much my whole life, always inconvenient, but this was the worst timing. No way was I going into the water that way, so my swim wave went off without me and I walked to the ambulance. Long story short, I had to get an adenosine push to be cardioverted, and I spent a good chunk of the day in the Glens Falls Hospital. I had purchased the insurance, so I did get my race fee back. In 2015, I was back, and this time had an uneventful race all around (Other than badly spraining my ankle six days before the race on a trail run.). I missed my PR by just a few seconds, but it was good enough for 2nd place AG.

Lake George. I'm starting to handle the swim much better.

My son's girlfriend, Sam, and me after Lake George. Sam has become a regular training partner.

October was the Mohawk Hudson marathon, and that's where the summer of fun came to a screeching halt. I had continued to run train through September and October, but had no idea what I was getting into. I had never run 26.2 miles before IMLP. My run time was 4:37, not too bad. The BQ time for my age group is 4:10, so I thought, what the hell? Bad mistake. If I remember correctly, there wasn't a 4:10 pace group. A pacer at the expo the day before advised that I go out with the next slowest group, and try to negatively split (MH is a net downhill race, and most of the elevation loss is in the second half). I didn't listen, and instead, went out with the next fastest group. The pacer for that group had a wild hair; I think we should've been doing around 9:15 miles, and he was doing sub-9's and just over 9 for the first 7-8 miles. My gut started griping, and I used a port-a-pot stop as an excuse to drop off the group, and try to get my own pace going. That worked ok for a few miles, then the gut started in again, and I had to dash into the woods. Around mile 17-18 there is a crazy long downhill. I want to say, for the record, downhill running needs to be practiced in training. I had done six months of training to run up the hills of Jamesville Park and Lake Placid, and it did not translate. Flat and downhill running takes a toll on the legs, and by mile 20, I knew I was in big trouble. By mile 21, my IT bands were seizing up, and slower pace groups were passing me. By mile 24, I was walking. The finish line photos, which I did not buy, show me running/limping sideways, about to tip over. I believe my time was 4:29, a PR, but it was ugly. Fortunately, NYC was a bit of a redemption, but that is a later post.