Start Me Up

At just before 10:30pm on July 24, I became an Ironman. And, if the pictures are any indication, hearing the Mike Reilly, the Voice of Ironman calling my name as I arrived on the finishing track was one of the most exciting experiences in my life so far. It really was, but as you all know, it’s all in the getting there, so, here is how that went. I'll be posting in three parts this week.

The week leading up to race day was eventful, short workouts to ensure that my body remembered how to swim-bike-run, and the requisite preparation that comes before a week long roadtrip/holiday. And then, two nights before our departure, our car was broken into. Laptop gone, camera gone, and window smashed. T-minus 36 hours before departure for Lake Placid. Resulting in insurance calls, a new window, and rapid replacement of technological items the day before we left. This was more than a little bit inconvenient.

We arrived in Lake Placid on Thursday afternoon, and took the time to settle in. We rented a (very) small cottage for the week, and it literally had just (barely) enough room for luggage, two bikes, two dogs, one athlete and one amazing husband. Some of you probably know that it was sweltering in the week leading up to the race, and being in the Adirondacks, very few places were blessed with air conditioning, remarkably though, the ceiling fan and the shade of the surrounding trees made our little spot very comfortable, particularly in the evenings, when restful sleep was so important.

Friday morning brought (Iron)golf for my hubby, and a quick trip to the grocery store for me. Post-golf, we headed to Lake Placid High School to check in and pick up my race kit. Standing in line surrounded by hundreds of fit people all tapered to a fine point, and as many green shirted Iron Crew volunteers, it hit me, this is Ironman, the big moment had almost arrived. Even the lady who affixed my athlete bracelet to my wrist said “I’ll be praying for you on Sunday”. Just for me? Who am I? I think I freaked out just a little, but then I blushed, said thank you, and quietly made my way around the gym collecting my stuff. Friday night, the athletes and family support were entertained and inspired at the Welcome Dinner. If you’ve never heard of firefighter Matt Long, look him up, it will remind you that anything is possible.

Saturday in Lake Placid brought the arrival of my parents, two of the best fans I could ever hope for, and the tale of a dinner ruined. Wanting to eat something relatively plain on Ironman Eve, I had purchased some chicken during my quick grocery run on Friday, but come Saturday evening, after a visit with my parents at their hotel, we found out that the chicken was frozen. It was just about dinner time, and we had no dinner. My ever resourceful husband then made a mad dash to Chair 6, the restaurant right at the end of our cottage’s driveway, to beg for a table. We were lucky, they had just had a cancellation for the next sitting. So, although the rice and chicken wasn't made by me, it was the exact meal that I’d planned to eat the night before the race. Thank You Charlie! We had a lovely meal, made our way back to the cottage to relax and take the dogs for a short walk. Before bed I took a bath to visualize the race one more time.

At 4am on Ironman Day, I got up to have breakfast (one and a half bagels with peanut butter, one banana, a cup of coffee and water), hit the shower and transfer my water bottles into a bag. I was actually amazed that I was able to eat, it felt like a relatively normal day. I opted to wear a swimsuit under my wetsuit, rather than wearing my tri suit in the water, so I threw my sweats on over that to wear for the walk over to transition at the Olympic Oval.

It was hard not to feel like that walk was more of a death march, I knew what I had ahead of me that day, and was struggling to harness the butterflies in my stomach and keep them from ejecting my breakfast. Once we got into town though, I started to feel much better and methodically moved through dropping off my special needs bags, and headed into transition to check on Stan, my trusty steed, who was waiting patiently for me. Got a good luck hug on the way in from Brenda from Ottawa, a coach who I'd trained with at the spin studio over the winter, which was just what I needed at that moment!

Walking into transition, race organizers were informing athletes that due to the high water temperature, the race would a non-wetsuit swim for those competing for Ironman World Championship spots, and age group awards – the tension was palpable. Given that many of the girls in my age group would have had to trip and fall in front of me for me to win an award, I opted to wear my wetsuit, along with the majority of other racers.

Seeing Stan that morning, my eyes filled with tears, and I was stoked to find that I had no flat tires, despite my unfounded concern that they had exploded in the hot sun after bike check-in. I topped off my tires and headed out to get body marked.

Race numbers inked, it was time to get into my wetsuit, and eat a gel. I was standing next to another woman at this point, who longingly asked if I had an extra gel, alas I didn't have one to spare. Pulling on the wetsuit, I realized that shorts would have been a wiser warm up outfit than pants, as I struggled to get my suit up over my clammy skin! It took about twice as long as usual, but I was finally wetsuited and it was time to kiss my husband and head toward the start. The walk to the beach was a long one, between two barriers which were lined by a carpet to protect our feet on the run back. It was one of the weirdest walks of my life, I could still see my husband, I think I hugged him like six more times, but all the same, I felt very cut off from the spectators who were lining up for prime spots to see their athletes come out of the swim. Freaking out at little bit at this point, I spotted a friend from Ottawa and we hugged it out, wishing each other luck. From then on, it was like being in a funnel, hundreds of athletes making their way into the water to await the start. In the water, I did my customary dip, allowing the water into my wetsuit, and then I walked out toward the beach to let some of the excess water drain out the bottom, learned this trick from JMac, and it’s become a habit. Scanning the crowd, I was finally able to spot my cycling partner, and we gave each other huge good luck hugs and words of encouragement, drawing from the all the hours and kilometers we'd logged out on the road together – I am certain I cried. It was the perfect way to start the race.

At 7a.m., to the sound of Start Me Up by the legendary Rolling Stones, the gun was fired and Ironman Lake Placid 2011 began. The feeling of 2500 people moving from floating upright in the water to freestyle swim position was incredible, contact was inevitable and basically continuous. As expected, I was easily able to grab onto a draft and find a rhythm in the water, even making eye contact with my cycling buddy and saying “You’re good!” mid-stroke. About 500 metres into the swim I got kicked in the face, which pushed the left socket of my goggles up into my eye, lovely! But, the hard knocks were reciprocal and I’m certain that I kicked, punched and swamped my fair share of swimmers that morning. Not to that a lot of folks had opted to swim sans wetsuit that morning, which creates all kinds of contact you don’t want to know about!

In terms of the turns, and protocol around course markers, it doesn’t actually matter whether you’re racing 100 people or 2500, someone ALWAYS stops at the buoys to have a look around, honestly, you need to look when this much white water is basically propelling you around Mirror Lake? I literally yelled “Why are we stopping?” at the first buoy, as I turned my head to take a breath. It was the same at the second buoy, and at both turns on the second loop of the swim.

As I finished the first loop of the swim, I heard the announcer call my name as I ran up onto the beach to start the second loop, that energized me and pulled me all the way around Mirror Lake one more time.

Before I knew it, after about 1:15 (woohoo!), I was out of the water the second time and running across the beach in the direction of transition, to be reunited with Stan.