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.

High Peaks Cyclery Mini-Tri

High Peaks Cyclery bike shop in Lake Placid has been running a weekly mini-tri series for the past 29 summers. It's a 400 yard swim, 12 mile bike and three mile run, making it almost a sprint distance race. I've been doing triathlon for three years, and had heard about this series right from the beginning. My friend, Sandy, has been gently encouraging me to do one, and I finally did last night. The races are on Monday nights, starting at 6:30. Mondays are usually my rest days, and Lake Placid is almost an hour's drive from where I live, so I had a couple of easy excuses for not going. Last night's race was the last of the season, and I desperately needed redemption from my DNF at the Y-tri two weekends ago. I rode the Ididaride the day before, a 75 mile ride with over 4300' of climbing. I averaged 17.6 mph, and my average heart rate was just over 130 bpm, so I knew I hadn't gone too deep. When I woke up yesterday, my legs were feeling good, so I decided to go.

We got to Lake Placid early. The race director, Brian Delaney, set my bike up in the primo location in transition. I got my area set up, and took my bike for a quick spin. Decided to go with my shallower rear wheel with the 12/27 cassette. Put my wetsuit on and did a warm up swim almost all the way to the first buoy. I felt good. It was a beautiful, sunny evening and the water was smooth. I got out of the water and listened to the race instructions. Now, one thing I've noticed is when I get out of the water and don't remove my wetsuit right away, it "suctions" to my body. That's the only way I can describe it. I really should at least unzip my wetsuit after my warmup swim, then zip it quickly and pull the neck down to let some water in before I start swimming. I was all the way to the back, where I always start. Another thing I need to change. I only swim freestyle in races, and once I get into a rhythm, I'm fine. The problem is, I'm always swimming with the breast- and back-strokers, and I can't get going. The same thing happened last night. The race began, I started swimming, and I was immediately on the feet of slow people or whip-kickers that I couldn't get around. My wetsuit felt suffocatingly tight, and I was starting to panic. My heart rate was through the roof, and I could feel that weak, hypoxic feeling in my arms and legs. I entertained the thought of quitting for one second, but just couldn't stomach the thought of being a two-time loser. So, I just kept swimming. I somehow made it to the turn-around buoy, then managed to find some open water in front of me. Sighted a few times, only had to adjust once. I swam right into the exit, stood up and hit the lap button on my watch, and turned around to see how many people were still in the water. Shocked to see maybe 20 swim caps, and that only 11 minutes had elapsed since the race start. I always feel like I'm in the water forever, and that I'm last. Next race, I'm positioning myself about 3/4 of the way back. I think that's where I truly belong, and hopefully, it will keep me with the freestyle swimmers.

As I ran into transition, I yelled to my husband to grab a gel for when I finished the bike. That weak feeling was translating into a hungry feeling. I think I just imagined it, but it couldn't hurt to have a gel. I knew I had a 100 calorie bottle of Heed on the bike, so I should be okay. I did a quick transition, about 1:30, then headed out on the bike. I hammered it. I love the bike leg; I feel so strong, and I'm always so glad to be done the swim. Headed down Mirror Lake Drive to Northwood Road, a little climb there, then down to Route 86, and a lovely, fast downhill through the Notch to River Road. I passed everyone I came to. I was flying! After the turn on River Road, there is a little bump. I passed a couple of people there, then thought it would be a good time to grab another drink before I settled in the aerobars to time-trial River Road. As I reached down to put my bottle back on the seat tube, I muffed it, and my bottle went under the bike. Dammit! I just got that bottle at Ididaride the day before. I was only four miles into the ride, and there went my calories and fluid. It was a cool evening, maybe low 70's at this point, so I made an instaneous decision to leave the bottle. I had my handheld for the run, and my husband would have a gel ready for me. That would have to be good enough. River Road is made for me, with a few little rollers to work. I continued to pass people. I heard an admiring, "Whoa!," when I passed one young guy. I heard my watch beep a 5 mi lap and saw 12:56. The next beep, after turning from River Road to Route 73, and climbing the hill after the bridge back up to Route 86, showed 14:37. A spectator on that hill cheered my Team Placid Planet kit, and told me I had a cool helmet (Giro Air Attack with the face shield ). I did the math, and knew my ride would be about 35 minutes. Took the right on 86, back to Northwood and Mirror Lake Drive. My husband had the gel ready for me, and I was in and out of transition in about 45 seconds. I was worried that my shins would start rebelling, or I'd just suffer a general rebellion from my body because of the 75 miles the day before. I felt a little redlined as I ran that first mile on Mirror Lake Drive. I made the turn onto a dirt road just as my watch beeped a one-mile lap, and I was shocked to see 7:46. Holy crap, I was flying! The dirt road is a bit of a climb. A few people passed me shortly after transition, but then I started passing people on that dirt road. I made the turn-around, and had a nice downhill in front of me. Started to feel like I had my legs under me. Back to the end of the dirt road, my watch beeped again, and it was just two seconds slower than the first lap. I was back on Mirror Lake Drive with a mile to go, and I just pushed as hard as I could, keeping a good rhythm. Only two guys passed me after the dirt road. I heard my watch beep one more time before the finish (I can never figure out how to run the shortest distance on a race course), and I had run a 7:36 mile. Another tenth of a mile and I was at the finish line, so happy to have finished the race feeling so strong! My watch said 1:12:59. (Link to results)

Afterwards, everyone who races grabs a raffle ticket for some awesome prizes. I know they do the raffle every week. I'm not sure what the prizes typically are, but this week they had running shoes, fuel belts, beer from Lake Placid Brewery, shirts, googles, socks, gloves...all great stuff. I didn't win anything, but the age-group awards were coming up next. Before the raffle, I had wandered over to the table at the finish line where two formidable-looking women were entering results on a laptop. I tried peeking over their shoulders and got the hairy eyeball, and was told that Brian would give the results, so I slunk away, not knowing how I finished. After the raffle, Brian called out the age-group winners, starting with the youngest to oldest women, then the same with the men. There was a table full of items to choose from: Baseball caps, water bottles, nutrition and hydration, gym bags, etc...Again, awesome swag! Now, Lake Placid is a world-renowned vacation destination, which typically draws very fit people. Around 70 individuals and 10 teams did the race this week, and they were from all over. A woman from Far Hills, NJ won my age group. She beat me by about two minutes. When all the age-group winners were called, I started to leave, thinking it was over. I was half way to my car when I realized it wasn't over, and they were calling 2nd place winners. I got back just in time to hear my name, and I picked up a nice gym bag. I was very happy with my performance, happy that I toughed out the swim, and that I was walking away with some swag. It was almost 9:00 at this point (if you do this race be prepared for a long evening!), so we went to Wise Guys for dinner--they serve until 2:30 a.m. and the food is great. On the way home, I swung onto River Road and found my water bottle. Bonus!

**A Team Placid Planet group email went around the next day, and a couple of race veterans commented on how rough the swim was. One guy was sporting a bump on his head from being hit or kicked. I know I wasn't near that scrum, but there were a lot of people for this shoreline swim, so I don't feel so bad for feeling like it was a tight swim.

Spinervals Lake Placid Camp, 4th and Final Chapter

Before we went to dinner last night, Coach Troy gave us our itinerary for today. Meeting at 6:40 a.m. for a 7:00 swim. Back to the hotel to change and have breakfast, then in the lobby by 8:15 for an 8:30 run start time. I was up again at 5:30 a.m. I had my husband to do the breakfast run for me, so I started gathering some of my belongings to expedite check-out after the run. Coach had negotiated a noon check-out for us, instead of the hotel's 11:00 time. I had coffee, yogurt and a banana for breakfast. I pulled my wetsuit on up to my waist and joined my friends in the lobby. When I got to the lobby, I realized I'd left my Garmin 910XT watch in the room, so I hustled back to pick it up. I returned to the lobby just as the group was headed out the door, and I quickly slid in the end of the line like I'd been there all along, avoiding the dreaded iso squat punishment. We walked to the beach and finished getting ready to get in the water. I always wear my full wetsuit because I want every bit of buoyancy I can get, but I didn't bother with the neoprene booties. Two of our coaches, Ryan and Brian, wore Speedos for the swim. I admired their, um, bravery, and appreciated the extra incentive to get in the water :) Coach took the group shot on the beach this time, and as we waded in, we all commented on how cold the water felt. It WAS warmer than the first day, so I attribute this to how tired we all were. Our swim instructions were to, again, swim out 15 minutes, then return, but to swim farther than we did the other day. Not a problem for me, because I didn't get very far on that first swim. This time, I started swimming right away, no humming, no breathlessness. The water felt fantastic! I got on someone's feet, someone was on my feet, and we swam. Back at the hotel after, I inhaled a convenience store crumb cake thing that my husband had left in the room for me. I will say, dinners were great and mostly healthy, but the rest of my nutrition left a lot to be desired. There were refrigerators in the rooms; I should have taken the time the first night to buy some decent food to have on hand. Changed into running clothes and back to the lobby for the run. Troy had advised that we carry fluids. Dan and Dave would be on the course with the sag wagon, but it was forecast to be a hot and muggy day. I brought my handheld bottle that holds about 8 ounces of water. Coach talked strategy for the run. Since we'd all be running at our own pace, this would be the last time I'd see some of my fellow campers. My thought was to run around 9:30 miles. That seemed reasonable after two hard days of riding. And as Coach Troy reminded us, this was training camp, not a race. Too bad I didn't stick with that plan. We all started out fast. It's an easy thing to do on that course, because the first two miles are downhill. I ran 8:35 miles for the first three. I was mostly running alone. The fasties went out hard, a few others were behind them. Jerre went out strong. Christina and Mike were just in front of me, and I used them to pace me for about 10 miles of the run. Miles 4 and 5 were 8:57 and 8:59, and mile 6 was 9:15. I had drained my water bottle by the turn-around on River Road. It was getting hot, so I guzzled about a cup of Gatorade and refilled my bottle with water. Miles 7 and 8 were exactly 9:00 miles, then the slow-down hit. A 9:24 and 9:51 and I was at the sag wagon refilling my bottle again. This time I grabbed a cup of water and doused myself. I perked up a bit, and had a 9:27 mile up the shorter hill after the bridge, past the horse show grounds and towards town. Then came the dreaded in-your-face hill back into town. I had run with Lola a while going into town, but she dropped me on that hill. I refused to walk, and just did what Coach had advised--kept moving forward and had my slowest mile at 10:55. I had the out-and-back left to make it a complete 13.1, and despite the temptation to skip it, I eased my pace and just ran it easy. Finished in 2:02 running time--happy and sorry it was over, at the same time. Back at the hotel, we were waist deep in the lake once again, comparing notes and congratulating each other on a job well done.
It was a transformative weekend for me. I started out feeling like I didn't belong there, and I left knowing that I did, that I could do things I never thought possible before this weekend. I made some good friends--people I will be supporting when I volunteer at IMLP in a few weeks, and people who are now real to me when we're "talking" in our Spinervals group on Facebook: Jerre and Christina, Merle, Lola, Christian and Leigh Ann, David, Ginny, Alan, Rob, Charlie, George, Mary, Chrissy, Raquel, and Mark. Thank you to Coach Troy, Dan and Dave, and Ryan and Brian for putting on such a great camp. I highly recommend it to anyone doing IMLP, or anyone who wants to experience a fun and challenging weekend in one of the most beautiful places on earth. (Stats for the three days: Swim-1.4 miles, Bike-168 miles, Run-18.3 miles)

Spinervals Lake Placid Camp, Chapter 3

Saturday, June 22, 2013: Coach Troy told us at the meeting last night that he was moving up our start time for the 112 mile ride today, from 8:00 a.m. to 7:00 a.m. It was looking like some rain may be moving in later in the day, other camps were there and he wanted to get us out before them, and an earlier start would mean an earlier finish. At last night's meeting, Troy also told us that the reason he had us do the reverse loop of the course first, is so we can see how hard the course could be. If we could survive that seven-mile climb yesterday, today would seem easy. Ri-i-i-ight! I slept a little better, got up at 5:30, but this time drove to the Stewarts for my breakfast. I felt a little guilty about that, but it seemed prudent to not tax my legs anymore than I needed to. I had rinsed my jersey out in the sink after yesterday's ride, and basically wore the same thing as yesterday: Spinervals jersey, (fresh!) tri shorts, and sun sleeves. I got a sausage, egg and cheese sandwich and a coffee for breakfast. I mixed my liquids--carried three bottles today versus two yesterday. I threw a bunch of gels in my bento bag, along with a protein bar and some leftover Chomps. We all met in front of the hotel at 6:40, and started out at 7:00 a.m. Troy led us out again, taking us up past the Olympic Center to show our IMLP campers where the transition area and the bike start would be. He controlled the pace for the first 10 miles or so. Our instructions today were to ride easy to the top of Keene hill, descend at our own pace, and regroup at the bottom. From there, we would ride the rest of the day at our own pace, but were encouraged to find a group or a partner to ride with, looking for Dan and Dave with fluids and cookies along the way. I took a look at the make-up of the A group, and proposed to Jerre that we look for each other when we got dropped by them, and ride together. We hung with the A's until somewhere around Upper Jay. They were setting a hard pace, so we eased up and rode just off the back to Ausable Forks and back to Jay. After a quick stop for fluids and cookies, we started the climb up 86. That is a deceptive little climb. The first part is pretty steep and can catch you by surprise if you're not ready for it. When Troy rode by us, Jerre wondered how we'd feel at this point on the next loop. I shared a quote from a friend who has raced Lake Placid several times, "No matter how good or how bad you feel, it won't last." We did the out and back on Haselton Road, and started the climb up the Notch. There was a good headwind, which is typical, so I proposed to Jerre that we take two minute pulls and tempo our way up. One other camper was with us, I don't remember who it was now. Anyway, every little rise we came to, he'd ask, "Is this Mama Bear?" And I'd say, "No, Mama Bear is almost at the end." He clearly was hoping we were at the end with every hill! We dropped him at some point, and Jerre and I crested Papa Bear to see the A group with the sag wagon at the Cobble Hill Inn. Coach Troy yelled to us, "Good job! Hop on with this group!", which we did. We rode into town and the group went back up and around the Olympic Center. I left it up to Jerre whether he wanted to do that, or make a left turn at the end of Mirror Lake Drive and start the second loop. He chose option B. This put us ahead of the A group for a short time, but they soon caught us before the descent. Jerre was having a difficult time with his liquids. Troy had talked about mixing electrolytes heavier than the directions say, to prevent cramping. Jerre took it to heart, and quadrupled his mix. He hadn't been able to stomach it for much of the first loop, and had drained all of his other liquids. I had a bottle of plain water that I hadn't touched yet, so we stopped and I was helping him cut his mix, when Dan and Dave pulled up. Perfect timing! We started our descent, but I noticed a troubling development; my butt was really feeling uncomfortable. I tried to ignore it, but I was starting to look at the mileage left and wondering how I was going to survive. I had left a pot of chamois cream in the sag wagon, and I was applying gobs at every stop. We had a uneventful ride on 9N to Ausable Forks. On the way back, storm clouds were threatening and the wind came up, giving us a glorious tailwind. We hit the climb up 86, while all the while I was silently praying the east wind would continue on our climb up the Notch. Haselton out and back once again, and up the Notch we went. And, thank you cycling gods, we had the tailwind! We felt a few drops, and Jerre and I were both commenting how good a cloudburst would feel at that point. We had about 10 miles to go, and Jerre and I got very quiet. We had reached the "death march" phase of the ride. No two minute pulls on this trip; Jerre pulled on the flats and downs, and I paced us up the hills. Now, my right big toe was also killing me. I had lost the nail from running earlier in the year, and it was still sensitive. Standing out of the saddle relieved my butt, but hurt my toe. Sitting made my toe feel better, but killed my butt. I couldn't win. I made some comment to this effect, and Jerre said, "Oh, I'm so glad you said that! I'm dying, and I thought it was just me!" He had developed a hotspot on his foot and was in agony. We both just got into this rhythm and pushed as hard as we could, knowing the sooner we finished, the sooner the pain would end. We passed several riders (not from our camp) as we climbed, but we were pushing so hard, not one jumped on our wheels. We had some rain in the last few miles, and it felt exquisite. Finally, the Three Bears and over Northwoods hill, and we had made it! I had timed our loops: We did the first loop in 3:12 (riding time), just two minutes slower than yesterday, and the second loop in 3:22. But even better, when I got home and uploaded my data, I discovered that we had ridden the 12 mile segment up the Notch faster on the second loop! That tailwind made a difference (ride data here). We had an optional run off the bike today. I opted to skip it and save my shin for the half-marathon run tomorrow. Jerre headed out to do the run (he's doing IMLP), and I waded into the lake for my now ritual leg soaking. One of the coaches, Ryan was already in the water, so he came over to join me. Within a few minutes, Jerre, Christina, Merle and Lola, and a few others had all joined us, and we stood there in the water up to our waists, debriefing the ride. I wonder what the other hotel guests thought of us?

We had a 5:00 meeting after the ride, so I eventually made my way back to my room for a shower, food and rest until the meeting. My husband called and said the rain had interrupted his work for the day, so he was coming up to Lake Placid to eat at a friend's restaurant. I left a key card at the front desk for him, and went to the meeting. After the meeting, we had a group dinner at Northwoods Inn. The food was very good, and we had some great conversation, sharing training and racing and life stories. We traded contact information, just in case we forgot to do it the next day, and headed back to the hotel. We were happy to have two hard days of riding behind us. We were enjoying our shared suffering and conquest of the hardships, but we knew we had another tough day--a 13.1 mile run--ahead of us. (On a side note, back in my room, I glanced at my bike and noticed something odd; the nose of my saddle was angled up at least a half inch, instead of being level. No wonder my butt hurt! I think it rocked back on one of those hard bumps on 73). (Another side note: while resting in my room, I wrote down my calories and fluids for the day--3 bottles of electrolyte mix, 2 bottles of water, 3 GU gels, 4 GU Chomps, 1 Protein bar, 6 Endurolytes and probably a dozen fig newtons.)

Spinervals Lake Placid Camp, Chapter 2

Friday, June 21st: I slept just ok. Strange place, room was warm, even though I turned on the air, or maybe it was just me. Got up at 5:30, threw on a sweatshirt, and walked to the Stewart's convenience store just down the street. I've been to that particular store many times. I knew they'd be open and that the coffee would be fresh and hot. Also picked up a yogurt and a muffin. It was a bit chilly, but not overly so, very quiet on the street. Nice way to clear my head before the swim. I had the coffee and yogurt back in my room and got into my wetsuit. I messaged my friend, Mary, to tell her about the meeting time and to warn her about the iso squats :) Mary had also signed up for the camp, but other commitments came up, so she was only attending Friday. We all met in the lobby at 6:40 a.m., and walked down to the beach. The air temp was probably in the high 50s, buzz among the campers was that the water temp was 67 degrees. I think that was a touch generous. Coach talked to us a bit as we got ready to get in the water (I wore my full-sleeved wetsuit and neoprene booties). We swam out to the beginning of the lovely cable that goes along the swim course just four or five feet below the surface of the water, punctuated every 20 yards or so by buoys on the surface. Coach Troy asked us to swim for 15 minutes, then turn around and come back. He talked some more as we tread water, then took a photo. I look a little grim in the picture, I was starting to feel chilled and wanted to get moving! I am not a fast swimmer by any stretch, though I am a more confident swimmer than I used to be. I've only been swimming about five years, and though I've worked hard at improving, I know I'll be at the back of any swimming pack I'm in. Since this was my first open water swim since last August, my goal was to swim relaxed and in control, and not worry about anything else. It was a little hard to get my face in the water and get started, the chilly water took my breath away. I tried humming as I exhaled underwater--a little trick I'd learned from a friend to help me exhale completely. I quickly got into a rhythm and away I went. I checked my watch a couple of times, turned around after 15 minutes, and almost immediately, my calves started to cramp. The water was cold, and I was starting to feel chilled. I kicked very carefully back to the start, got out of the water, and silently congratulated myself on surviving. All the campers were in high spirits after the swim. We were all very chatty on the walk back to the hotel. So maybe I wasn't the only one who was happy to have our first workout done, or maybe the chilly water woke us up. Coach instructed us to grab something to eat, and to be back out in front of the hotel by 8:40 to start the ride.

I invited Mary to come back to my room to change. I wolfed down the muffin, got my cycling gear on, and prepared my nutrition and fluids. I had GU Electrolyte Brew and Hammer Heed powder to mix into my bottles. I also brought GU Chomps and Roctane Gels. Troy told us that Dan and Dave would be at certain places along the course with water, cookies and Gatorade/Powerade (I don't remember which, because I don't drink either). We brought our bikes out, and prepared to ride. I wore my Spinervals jersey, tri shorts, and sun sleeves. It was chilly, but I knew it would warm up. Troy had on a couple of layers, and some lobster-claw mitts tucked into his back pockets. Some people (not me!) were smirking over the gloves, which Coach didn't wear, leaving his reputation intact ;) We were riding one loop of the reverse of the Ironman bike, which meant we'd be climbing Keene hill--7 miles and 1350' of ascent--near the end of the ride. Coach Troy said he'd be controlling the pace on the downhill through the Notch, that we'd be stopping and regrouping at certain points along the course, and that everyone would do the climb at their own pace. Since we'd all be finishing at different times, we were to do our brick run whenever we finished the ride--one or two loops around Mirror Lake. We set off around 9:00, and it was an awesome ride! The bike is my thing, so I was feeling very comfortable, and feeling that maybe I did belong at this camp. I rode close to Troy's wheel through the Notch and near the front of the group down 86 to route 9N. We did the out and back on Haselton Road--one of my favorite roads in the entire North Country. I think it's a shame the entire road is no longer a part of the bike course. Coach Troy had strongly advised us not to hammer this ride, to save our legs for the 112 miles the next day. At some point, either in Wilmington or Upper Jay, I shed the sun sleeves. We split up into groups after Wilmington, I think, though we all regrouped at certain points before continuing. I hung with the A group until the return leg of the out-and-back to Ausable Forks. They started to push the pace as they neared Upper Jay again; that's a bit of an uphill section. I debated pushing to hang on, and decided to ease off and save my legs. I was going to get dropped, that was inevitable, so it didn't make sense to kill myself. And, the group would stop to regroup at the sag wagon stops, so I was able to start with them after each stop. We finally reached Keene, and started the climb. I like climbing. I live on the top of a hill that's a category 3 climb on one approach, and a 4 on another. I'm small and light, so I have an advantage. I felt good, got into a rhythm, and just tempo-ed up the hill. There was a traffic light about half-way up, routing traffic into one lane for construction. Jerre caught me before the light; our timing was bad and we caught the red and had to wait about 10 minutes before continuing. A couple of others caught up to us before the light changed. Turned out to be just the recovery I needed. We were still climbing after the light, and I took off feeling strong. After a minute or two, I turned to say something to the guys, and nobody was there. One of the guys caught and passed me near the top. I was feeling really good, and just decided to hammer the last few miles. The road is in rough shape, and my bottle with the Speedfil top jettisoned off into the trees on one particularly bad bump. I never could get that bottle system set up right, so, good riddance. Rode to the hotel, brought my bike up to my room and threw on my running shoes, and ran two loops--about 5 miles--around the lake. When I finished, I went down to the beach and waded into the lake up to my waist for a little ice bath. I highly recommend this! Back to the room to shower, and ate every bit of food in my room that I could find. I then went up to Placid Planet for a new hydration system. I got the XLab Super Wing and two Gorilla XT cages for behind the seat. I left the bike with Dan to install it for the next morning, and went to the nightly lecture. Afterwards, almost all of us went to dinner at the Lake Placid Pub and Brewery. It was great visiting with Ginny, Dan, Jerre and Christina down at my end of the table. We were a loud and raucous bunch. I was very happy with how my day went, and no longer feeling over my head. Coach Troy changed the ride start for the 112 miles to 7:00 a.m., so I went straight back to the hotel and to bed after dinner. Good day! My stats for the day: Swam 1130 yards in 32 min, biked 56 miles in 3:10 and ran 5.2 miles in 48 minutes.