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...

Busy Life=Bad Blogger

Catching up on my blog has been hanging over my head like that summer writing assignment for school. We're having an all-day rain today, so today's the day. We've had a roller-coaster ride of dealings with my father's health and living situation, but long story short, he's settled at a local adult residential center where he's being well-cared for, and his memory still continues to improve. He's generally healthy and happy, so we'll be satisfied with that.

My last blog entry was about the time I began training for Syracuse 70.3. I think I'll write that race up as a separate entry, and make this entry about the lead up to that race. I purchased Joe Friel's 70.3 training plan for athletes over 50 and uploaded it into my Training Peaks account. I had been loosely following Troy Jacobson's Super Six off-season training plan for the bike, while continuing to swim three times a week (like it was my job!), and running three times a week. I did a Resolution 10K Run on New Year's Day, and resolved to do my long run outdoors every weekend throughout the winter. I managed to keep that resolution, but it wasn't easy. We had an ice storm around Christmastime, and my road and the adjoining roads remained ice covered until mid-March. They were hell to drive on, and impossible to run on. I drove to Plattsburgh every weekend and ran with a group of friends on mostly clear and dry city streets. Twice, it was so cold, my water froze in my hand-held bottle. Still, it was way better than running for an hour-plus on the treadmill. I still battle the dreaded shin splints on and off, and see my chiropractor, Jon Mulholland, for Graston scrapings and occasional tune-ups. He also fitted me with orthotics. I confess, the jury is still out on them. My shins have been better, but they still flare up occasionally even with the orthotics, so I just get after them aggressively with a lacrosse ball and massage stick. Also, the orthotics are aggravating an old scar on the bottom of my foot. I'm still using them, but we'll see...

As for the bike, my tri bike was on the trainer all winter. Besides using Spinervals and following Coach Troy's Super Six program, I also discovered TrainerRoad. I had looked at it before, but couldn't see how it was better than what I was doing. I'd been training with the Kurt Kinetic inRide computer on my trainer and using the corresponding app on my iPhone for workout data and simulated power. An OS update by Apple broke the KK inRide app (it's still broken, although Kurt Kinetic is saying they will have a fix ready soon), so I took a closer look at TrainerRoad. I have the Garmin Ant+ speed and cadence sensor on my bike, which I paired with the TrainerRoad app on my desktop. I did a time trial and got an FTP number that was relevant to TrainerRoad, and I was good to go. The great thing about TrainerRoad is the website has an extended library of rides to choose from; many of the Spinervals titles, as well as member-produced workouts, and a "free ride" option to pop in a DVD and ride along, while recording data. I would look at my training plan, then choose from my DVD library or the TrainerRoad library and find a workout that met the goals of my plan. 

I ran the Frostbite 5K in February in order to get a LTHR for running and to set my zones. My time was about 30 seconds slower than last year. I did the race in my new-ish Hokas, and rolled my ankle slightly just a few minutes into the race. I won my age group, though, so I was pleased. By March, the shin splints were back with a vengeance. On the advice of my chiropractor, I ditched the Hokas and got the orthotics. That's when I did the Graston treatments, and started using the lacrosse ball and massage stick regularly on my shins, and as of this writing, have not had any more serious issues with them. I also ran the Plattsburgh Half Marathon in April as part of my training. By then, my hip was starting to aggravate me. I tried not to push too hard and finished with a time about 35 seconds slower than last year. Still, the hip continued to hurt. In the two months between the half marathon and Syracuse, my longest run was 6.6 miles. I saw the doctor who did my hip surgery. He ordered an MRI which showed fluid in the joint, but no new tears. I had a cortisone shot four days before Syracuse (more on that in the next post). Needless to say, I wasn't able to follow the run workouts of the training plan as written. It's becoming obvious that speed work and stand-alone 5Ks are just too hard on my hip. I followed the training plan as best I could, mostly trying to put in the time for the week. I've mentioned before that I live in hill country, and since the run at Syracuse is very hilly, the best plan of attack seemed to be to just get out and run my hills. I only did one other stand-alone running race as a lead up to Syracuse, a trail run 5K fund-raiser for my school, and I'm not sure if I'll do any this fall.

Late in the winter, I put my mountain bike on Craigslist. It was a very nice bike, but I wasn't riding it. My interests are now firmly entrenched in triathlon. And besides, I wanted a power meter. It took a couple of months, but I finally got a buyer, and used the money to buy a PowerTap for my Zipps. I took the tri bike off of the trainer in April, and it hasn't been back on since. Using power has transformed my training. I did the local time trial early in the season to get my FTP and to set my zones, and did my best to follow my plan, hit the power goals, and still ride outdoors. I know there's a ton of literature supporting training indoors on a trainer to control workout goals. For me, riding outdoors--on hills, in wind, on bad pavement, with friends and surging to stay on wheels--prepares me much better for racing. Most of the enjoyment for me on the bike is riding on beautiful days, through gorgeous scenery on quiet back roads, with good friends. If I had to choose between only riding the trainer to train for races, or riding outdoors and not racing, I'd give up triathlon. Thankfully, I don't have to. I did the Placid Planet half century ride in late May as a training ride for Syracuse. (Side note, I've found that my FTP from my PowerTap is much closer to the inRide simulated power numbers, versus TrainerRoad's simulated power numbers. Stay tuned for my next post on how that all worked out for me at Syracuse.) 

As for swimming, it is what it is. The masters swim team at my gym was defunct by late fall. There were promises to start it back up during the winter that weren't kept. I swam three days a week, and tried my best to follow the training plan. The shorter speed and form workouts got done. The longer swims were a little tougher, because there was a time and a distance goal. For the most part, there was no way I'd get the distance done in the time allotted, and indeed, in the time I could reasonably spend in the pool (without packing a lunch and becoming water-logged). I did several 2+ mile swims, but often had to compromise somewhere between the time and distance goal, because, well, I had a life. Lots of room for improvement.

So far, I'm on track for my training goals for the season. Next post, the Syracuse 70.3 debrief. Stay tuned.

 Our weekend run group after the Plattsburgh Half.

 My tri training partner, Bob Heins, and my #1 running partner, Leanne Macey.

 Sprinting to the finish. Why? Because Sandy (in the red cap behind me) told me to.

Lake George Triathlon

The Lake George Triathlon was my last triathlon race of the 2013 season. It's an olympic distance race that is always held Labor Day weekend. I am familiar with this venue. I did the bike leg as a member of a relay team three years ago. Two years ago, I did the half-iron distance Aquabike. Obviously, the bike course was different, but the swim venue was the same, just longer for the half. I had signed up to do the olympic last year, but had to skip it because of a funeral. I signed up for Shelburne and Lake George when I realized I wasn't going to be able to do a half this summer. I thought two olympic distance races would be a good step up to the half distance.

Since I had done Shelburne two weeks ago, I had an idea of the result I was looking for. The bike at Shelburne was two miles longer than a traditional olympic distance, and my finishing time was 2:57:12, so I thought I should be able to do around 2:46:00 for this race. Truthfully, though, my real goals for any race are to have a good swim, and to finish. This year, race organizers decided to move the start from the 8:00 a.m. time they've had since its inception, to 7:00 a.m. in order to accommodate Labor Day traffic. Lake George is about 100 miles away, so I decided to get a hotel room for the night before the race. And as long as I was there the night before, I did my packet pick-up to save time race morning. We got a bag, a pair of cycling socks (nice!), a water bottle, and a long-sleeved hoodie (even nicer!) I'm always happy to get some different race swag. We had dinner at The Village Blacksmith restaurant, a local steakhouse. The steak was delicious, but probably not the wisest choice the night before a race. Back to the room to read, surf the Internet on my iPad, play Words With Friends, anything to keep myself distracted. I had a very good swim in Mirror Lake with a friend earlier in the week, my best all season, and I was determined to not have a freak out over the swim. Lights out at 11:30, and I actually slept some. The alarm went off at 5:00 a.m. I made myself oatmeal (I brought with me) in the microwave, while my husband fetched coffee from the local Stewart's. I love Stewart's stores, they are the best. We were just five minutes from the race venue; my husband dropped me off with all my gear near transition before 6:00 a.m. I found my bike slot in transition, left everything there, brought my bib to be scanned, and picked up my timing chip. After body marking, I set myself up in transition, and chatted up some of the women nearby. Bike slots in transition are determined by bib numbers, which are determined by age and sex, which determine swim waves. Long way of saying that the people racking their bikes near mine were 40+ year old women. It's actually comforting to find out that everyone worries about the swim, not just me. I found a couple of very good friends in transition, which is also comforting on race morning. 

(That's me with my hands on my hips. No idea what was on my mind at that moment.)

Race instructions were at 6:45 on the beach, so I had my wetsuit on by 6:40, and got in a quick swim. The water was 73 degrees and smooth as glass, just perfect. There were seven swim waves, and mine was the last, so it was a long, nervous wait. We finally got in the water and waited for our signal. I positioned myself to the outside, but not all the way in the back. We got the countdown to go at 7:22. I immediately just started swimming. No panicky feeling, lots of room in front of me. They had five large orange or neon green buoys on each side of the course, very easy to see. I sighted often, and just focused on swimming from buoy to buoy, counting them off as I did. I realized a couple of minutes in that I forgot to start my watch--again!-- but this time I paused for a second and started it. I was in a good rhythm out to the turn-around, had no difficulty at all with breathing. I sighted about every sixth stroke, and because the buoys were so visible and there were so many of them, I didn't have to pick my head up much and interrupt my stroke. About three buoys from shore, I starting passing people. Not many, but I was picking off a person every couple of minutes. I saw a guy in a white cap--they had gone out three waves before mine! Somewhere around the last buoy, I touched someone's feet and looked up and saw several people just in front of me. Where the hell had they come from? I couldn't work it out at the time, but realized afterwards that I caught them! I'm not a fast swimmer, but I'm as steady as a metronome. I think they were people who went out fast and ran out of gas. I swam until my hands touched bottom and I stood up and started to peel off my wetsuit. I was running out of the water with other people, a rare thing for me. My watch said 35 minutes. I knew it was more like 38 minutes, but still, that was 2 minutes faster than Shelburne. 

(Look at that smile! And green caps went out two waves before me!)

It's a long run up the beach, across and up the road, through the chute, and across the timing mat into transition. Stripped off my wetsuit, put on my cycling shoes, grabbed a small bar that I had opened before and stuffed it into my mouth, and put on my helmet. I have the new Giro Air Attack with the face shield. It was a cloudy, muggy morning, and it apparently had rained a little while we were in the water. My shield was wet, making it hard to see. I ran out the other end of transition, crossed the timing mat, mounted the bike and took off. Because I was in the last wave, I was also one of the last 50 people on the bike. 416 individuals did the race, plus 51 relay teams. (There were also 133 men and women racing in collegiate nationals, but they went out in the first two swim waves and are fast, so they were well into the race before I even got on the bike.) The first part of the bike course climbs away from the lake, then follows a bike path for a few miles. Only two people passed me on the bike; one guy from a relay team and I played cat and mouse for most of the race. He finally dropped me about five miles from the end. He was hammering it hard, and I still had to get off the bike and run. The other guy and I did the same in the first few miles, then I dropped him for good around mile 10. Riding the bike path was very dicey. The path is narrow and was open to recreational riders. It's also very curvy and wooded, and with a dark and cloudy morning and a wet visor, my visibility wasn't good. So "relay guy in the orange jersey" was a god-send. I stayed legal distance behind him and let him lead the way. Once off the path, the rest of the course was mostly rollers, which I love. I had my Garmin on the main screen, and mostly focused on heart rate. I just kept catching and passing people the entire ride. I ended up with the 84th fastest bike time overall. If you subtract 30 to account for the people who came out of the water behind me, I literally passed 300 people on the bike. I drank one 200 calorie bottle of Heed and had one GU gel on the bike.

Back into transition, and out for the run, I saw some of the collegiates finishing the race. I forced myself to not think about that. They had started over 20 minutes before me, and are, what, 35 years younger than me? Can't dwell on stuff like that. I have never done this run course, though a friend had cautioned me that it's hilly. It's a two-loop course that gains over 250 feet per loop. The first hill came almost at the start, and is longer and not too steep. The second hill comes about two-thirds of the way into the loop, and is shorter and steeper. There were three water stations; I grabbed water at every one, took a quick gulp, then doused myself with the rest. It was getting very muggy, and I was starting to feel it on the run. When I got to the steep hill on the first loop, I saw some people walking, and I told myself, "Thou shalt not walk." I dropped my eyes down to the road, and ran leaf to crack to leaf until I was at the top. The second loop was easier since I now knew what to expect. My first and fifth miles were the fastest; around mile four I was really wishing for rain, it felt so muggy. There were tons of people cheering us on. The road back to the beach was lined with cars. On the first loop, I was feeling kind of guilty that we were holding them up. On the second loop, when I saw some of the same people, I realized that they were parked there specifically to cheer on the racers. It was so awesome, it really gave me a mental boost. The run seemed to go pretty quickly. I didn't feel like I was really hurting until the fourth mile, but once I climbed the steep little hill, I knew I had mostly downhill to the finish. When I got to the finish chute, I found a kick, and saw 3:09 on the race clock. Minus the 22 minutes for my wave start, I knew I was close to my goal. 

A local brewery, Adirondack Brewery, sponsors this race, and each racer could get two free beers. My stomach wasn't feeling that great. I drank some cold water, then went down to the lake to rinse off and cool down. I felt much better afterwards, and hit the beer tent for my first beer. Saw some friends there, and we did the debrief. I was so happy that I'd had a good race, so happy to be drinking a beer with a friend. I went to the food tent after and had a little bit to eat, then checked the results sheet. I saw my official time, 2:47:22. Okay, a little slower than I thought I might do, but I knew the run was much hillier than Shelburne, and so my run time was a little slower. Then, I saw a "20" and a "2" next to my name. I had to follow the numbers to the top of the column before I realized that I had finished 20th woman out of 132, 2nd in my age group! I truly had not expected that. This is a big race, attracts people from all over. I just didn't consider the possibility that I would have a high finish, or place in my age group. Yes! I changed into dry clothes, then waited with friends for the awards. My friend, Lynne, did the bike for a women's relay team, and they took first place. Another friend, Jim Adams, took 2nd in his age group. I had walked with Jim for part of Ironman Lake Placid, and he gave me his finishers cap afterwards. We all got beer glasses, nice! 

(Not sure what that face is about. I look like I'm about to cry!)

On the ride home, I was really sad that the season was over. I started with the Lake Placid Spinervals camp, had a seriously low moment at the Y-tri, and finished feeling like I had accomplished so much. I'm planning to do some running races this fall, and to start back to building base October 1st. My goal for next summer is a half-ironman, maybe two. Can't wait!

Race stats: 2:47:22, swim-00:38:26, bike-1:13:12, run-00:51:48. (Official results)

Tupper Lake Tinman Sprint, June 29, 2013

I decided about a month ago to sign up for the sprint at the Tupper Lake Tinman. I've had some shin splint issues, but they seem to be improving, and I've been able to get more running done. Coming just a week after the big Spinervals Lake Placid training camp, I knew I'd have to make this past week an easier training week. Did two open water swims in Mirror Lake, one five mile run on the treadmill on a rainy morning, and one 18 mile ride on the tri bike during the week. I took a rest day on Friday, and really felt good all day, physically and mentally. For once, I felt confident about the swim, and didn't make myself practically psychotic worrying about it all day. Slept ok Friday night. I don't expect to get a good night's sleep the night before a race, but this night we were having sump pump issues because of all the rain we've had. My husband had to get up twice in the night to check the basement. On race morning, we were up at 4:30 and were on the road by 5:15 a.m. for Tupper Lake. It was cloudy and threatening rain, but pretty mild temperatures, around 60 degrees.
Tupper Lake is a little over an hour's drive away, through some really beautiful and remote country. We were there before 6:30, parked close, but then ended up having to walk a long way around the barriers to get through the race venue. Everywhere around the race venue was wet and muddy. I picked up my race packet, timing chip, and found my bike rack spot. (When I picked up my t-shirt, the woman asked me what size it said on my race bag. I told her, "small." She said, "Well, we have large and extra large. Which would you like?" Really? Why is it so hard to order enough of the size people choose when they register? Sorry for the rant, but I have many large-sized race shirts. It happens a lot.) Racked my bike, got my transition area set up, found my friend Sandy, did a quick warm-up run, and put my wetsuit on for a quick swim. We were told the water temperature was 72 degrees. It felt a bit cooler than that, but was perfect. Sandy and I went to stand in the sprint start carrel. There weren't many people there, which we should have noticed. Some guy came over and told us they decided to start us in the water, so we hustled down there. Someone was giving us instructions over the loudspeaker, when we suddenly heard someone near us say, "five seconds," and then the gun went off! I had one earplug out to hear the instructions--which were still going on!--so I quickly stuffed the plug in my ear and started swimming. Two minutes later, I realized that I never started my watch, damnit! I had a very good swim for me, just steady, sighted often. Had to adjust my course a couple of times, and I swim so slowly that I was with the breast- and sidestrokers. I kept thinking, "How can I be so slow that I can't lose these people?" I had to stay alert to not get kicked by the breaststroker, and a backstroker could not swim in a straight line, and kept swimming across my path. Both of those things slowed me down. In retrospect, I think I would risk a little sprint, and get out ahead of them early in the swim. I did the swim in 25:09, which is just about right for me for 6/10 mile. When I breathed and sighted, I could see the kayakers near me, so I was convinced I was last. When I got out of the water, I turned quickly and was shocked to see so many white caps of the sprinters still in the water! I ended up 73rd out of 96 on the swim. Lots of room for improvement, but I swam steadily and in control, so I was very happy.
When I got out of the water, I started my watch, then quickly hit the lap button to advance it to T1. It's kind of a long run to the bike racks. I did a quick, but not rushed, transition. It started raining on the swim, so I decided not to wear my sunglasses, thinking I wouldn't be able to see if the lenses were wet. We had to run our bikes over two timing mats, then run them across the road before we could mount. My T1 was 2:29, not too bad. I started to hammer immediately, just felt really good. Glad to be out of the water, glad to be on the bike, which is my strong leg, when I suddenly realized I never put air in my tires! I immediately reminded myself that I had pumped them up before my ride three days before (I know, I was grasping at straws), and since the roads were wet, it was better that I was running them a little low. Nothing I could do about it at that point, I just needed to not dwell on something I could not control at that moment. I felt a touch cool going out on the bike, but warmed up very quickly. The bike course was perfect for me; lots of long rollers at the beginning, then a nice climb partway up Mt. Arab before the turnaround. I passed everyone I came to, except two guys at about mile five. We played tag a little on the ups and downs, but then I passed them for good when the road went seriously up, and I never saw them again. It was an out and back course, so I could see that I would get a chance to recover on the mountain descent, and that there would be a good last descent back into town, so I really pushed the ride out. My HR dropped on the way back, just as I hoped. On the downhills on the way back, I was wishing I had worn my sunglasses, just to keep the rain from bouncing off my eyeballs (at least, that's the way it felt). The rain stopped right before I finished the bike. The course was 18.75 miles, and my time was 56:57. I averaged around 19.8 mph and had the 16th fastest bike time (link to data). That moved me up a bit in the standings! Did a quicker transition--1:28--and as I was headed out, the girl racked next to me was coming in on the bike. She said, "Hot damn, you're fast on the bike!" Gave me a nice mental boost to start the run. The first mile for the run was flat, but a lot of it was over wet, muddy grass. The second mile was uphill, mile three is a slight down, four and five were a more gradual climb, then the last 1.6 miles were down. I just tried to run as steady as I could. A couple of Team Placid Planet teammates, Billy Whitney and Darci LaFave, were at the race, and rode out along the bike course, cheering people on. I saw them three or four times, and it was just great to have that encouragement along the way. I did the run in 57:54, so I averaged 8:32 miles (data). That's a little slow for me for a 10K-ish run, but I don't have a lot of miles in and no speedwork, so I'm happy with it. I had the 31st fastest run, and finished 30th overall out of 96 (results). I was 2 out of 9 in my age group, and the 6th out of 43 women. I was just thrilled when I finished! I felt strong and in control the entire race. I drank almost a full bottle of Heed on the bike, had a gel and a small handheld bottle of Heed on the run. I also took water at every aid station, drinking about half and dumping the rest on my head. It just felt like everything had gone perfectly (other than the couple of things that didn't :)). If you've read this far, thank you for sticking with me. I wrote much of this to just record my thoughts for future races, and I'm just so excited this race went so well. My friend, Sandy, finished third in our age group, so we both got certificates at the awards. Sandy's daughter, Erin, did the half in preparation for Mont Tremblant next month. We stayed to see her finish. She broke five hours, 4:59:09, I believe, for 2nd place. Absolutely awesome race for her!

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.

Spinervals Lake Placid Camp, June 2013, Chapter 1

Raison D'etre: I've been incorporating Coach Troy Jacobson's Spinervals training videos into my workouts since January of 2012. My friend, Mary Duprey, suggested I use them when I was recovering from hip surgery. At the time, about all I could do was spin easy on a bike. Six months later, I PR'ed at my first post-surgery 5K. That made me a believer. This past fall and winter, I participated in Coach Troy's Super Six Challenge: six months of structured training, including the December "Challenge" month of serious strength-building on the bike. Around that time, Mary asked if I would consider attending the Spinervals Lake Placid Camp. At first, I said no. Camp conflicted with work, I'm not racing IMLP, and just generally felt like I'd be over-reaching. Winter progressed, and my fellow Spinervals teammates and I virtually trained and suffered together. I had an opportunity to meet two team mates, Kelly and Eddie Mendoza, while training and racing at Battenkill. Mary asked me again, and I decided to resolve my work conflict and sign up.

Registration and Orientation, Thursday, June 20th: I had originally reserved Friday and Saturday nights at the host hotel, the Golden Arrow Resort in Lake Placid. A couple of days before camp started, I called and added Thursday night. I arrived at the hotel around 5:15, checked in, and headed to the conference room to register. That's where I first met Dan and Dave, Troy's detail guys. I would learn to look forward to the sight of this father and son team before the weekend was over. I filled out the paperwork, got some swag--a Spinervals jersey (which I love and fits perfectly!), a water bottle from a local bike shop, and a couple of other random items. We also were instructed to choose three titles from a variety of Spinervals DVDs. I had all but two of them, and both are Runervals videos (which I'll have to rip and put on my iPad or iPhone to use at the gym). We proceeded into the conference room, where we met Coach Troy and his team. Troy put up a PowerPoint presentation with a few questions for us to use as a guide to introduce ourselves. After the introductions, Coach instructed us to stand up and do a five-minute isometric squat, as a way of simulating how one feels throughout the day when competing in an Ironman (Coach Troy had done his iso squat that morning, so didn't join us. Yeah, where have I heard that before?!) Longest five minutes of my life; the room became very quiet, my legs were shaking, beads of sweat started rolling down my face. Somehow, I and everyone in the room made it through the five minutes without sitting down. In retrospect, this little exercise accomplished two things: 1. When Coach told us he expected timeliness for meetings and workouts or we'd be doing squats, we took it seriously. 2. I think we impressed Coach Troy. He knew the caliber of the group he was dealing with from those five minutes. At that moment, however, all I could think was, what the hell had I got myself into? Coach talked some more about racing IMLP (I'm not going to give any details from the lectures. I think you should attend a camp to hear those), gave us the overall plan for the weekend, and sent us on our way for the night, with the instruction to meet in the hotel lobby at 6:40, for a 7:00 a.m. swim. As I walked down the street with quivering legs looking for a place to eat, I resolved I would be up early. My favorite sandwich shop was closed, so I started to head back to the hotel, thinking I'd grab some take-out pizza. I ran into fellow campers, Merle, Lola, Jerre and Christina, and they invited me to go with them to Milanos. We had a great dinner (I ordered the pizza special and a beer), and some good conversation getting to know each other. As we walked down the stairs leaving the restaurant, we felt that damned iso squat in our legs, and I secretly worried if I was up to the challenge. When I got back to the hotel, I called my husband and told him I didn't know what I was doing there, that I was in over my head. Then, I went to bed and worried about getting to sleep, waking up on time, iso squats, swimming in cold water, and on and on...

Tanita InnerScan BC-533

I've been using the Tanita Inner-Scan BC-533 for about a month and a half now, and I feel I have enough data to draw some conclusions. I chose this particular model of Tanita because, at $85.00, it seemed to be a good value for the price. It's advertised as the best selling scale on the market. The next model up was not only a lot more expensive, but provided more data than I was interested in having. Between my Kurt Kinetic inRide and my Garmins 110 and 500, Training Peaks and Garmin Connect, I feel a little overwhelmed by all the numbers I'm looking at every day. However, I really do want to gain muscle, and just tracking my weight every day wasn't giving me any useful information about if and how all the training and eating was helping me accomplish that goal.
This model of the Tanita provides the following data: weight, body fat %, body water %, muscle mass/physique rating, bone mass, visceral fat, daily caloric intake/metabolic age. The Tanita uses Bioelectrical Impedance Analysis to calculate your body composition. It passes a low electrical signal through your body, carried by water and fluids. According to their literature, "Fat tissue does not contain much water and creates resistance to impedance to the signal. (Fat is approximately 10-15% hydrated, whereas muscle is normally between 50-70%.)" The Tanita uses this information along with formulas based on other information that the user provides: height, weight, gender, body type and age, to estimate the user's lean and fat tissue. I've discovered that my hydration level is the most important factor in getting consistent data. But, more about that later.
The Tanita was very easy to set up. There is a guest mode, and up to four users can store their personal data to get more accurate readings. Once I turned the scale on (it runs on 4-AA batteries), and selected my Personal Key Number, I entered age, sex, height, and activity level (I selected "3", which is an "adult involved in intense physical activity of approximately 10 hours per week and who has a resting heart rate of approximately 60 beats per minute or less." ) That's it, set-up complete.
Each time you weigh yourself, you need to first select your personal key before stepping on the scale. Tanita recommends that you weigh yourself under consistent conditions of hydration. This is important, because you can get very different numbers with seemingly insignificant differences in hydration. You also need to be barefoot, so that your skin can make contact with the electrodes. Further, it is recommended that you be unclothed, and wait three hours after rising, eating or exercising. These stipulations basically give me a small window of time on weekdays, so I find I'm not using the scale every day. But, if I use that window, I have the best chance of getting consistent readings, and I can see the effect that illness or poor hydration has on my readings. When I am adequately hydrated, I see my highest muscle mass, highest bone mass, and lowest fat percentage. Not surprisingly, this corresponds with my highest weight, though not always. Also, some of my lowest body weight readings were coupled with some of my highest body fat percentages, simply because I was dehydrated. For me, my best readings happen when I weigh myself after work and before my workout, and when I've had two meals (breakfast and lunch), two snacks, and about 60 oz of fluid, at the time of weighing. Here are the differences I've seen between my highest and lowest readings: weight-4.2 lbs, muscle mass-9 lbs, bone mass-0.4 lbs, body water-5.3%, body fat-7.3%. My worst readings were when I had an intestinal bug, my best were two weeks after I finished the Challenge Phase of the Spinervals Super 6 training plan. It was an intense month of focused muscular endurance training.
Time for some conclusions: The day I recovered from two days of intestinal nastiness, I gained 2 lbs, gained 0.4 lbs of bone mass, gained 9 lbs of muscle mass, lost 6.6% of my body fat, and had 4.8% more body water. Clearly, I didn't have 9 more lbs of muscle from one day to the next, but it illustrates how important hydration is for correct readings. I can see trends, and I can use those numbers to make decisions about my training. For example, when I look at my numbers for January 14th and February 11th, all of my numbers are virtually the same, except I weighed 1.6 lbs less and had 1.2 lbs less of muscle mass on February 11th. Since my current training phase has been mostly aerobic endurance work, I feel I've done a good job maintaining my muscle gains, and I'm ready for the next phase of my training. I also really like the Tanita because it forces me to focus on hydration, something I have been casual about in the past to my detriment. So, if you like to quantify your progress and are serious about training and improving your chances for success, the Tanita scale can be a very useful tool to have.