You Can't Always Get What You Want.

Coming out of the water, it was time to see hit the strippers, wetsuit strippers that is! Basically, I ran over to a line of about 50+ volunteers, and then one of them grabs the arms of your wetsuit, says "lie down" and they yank your suit off in about half a second! Hilarious experience, basically having some strange dude tear your wet clothes off. With my suit off, I threw it over my shoulder and ran across the LONG carpet back to the transition area.

Once into transition I grabbed my bike bag and headed into the change tent. The sun was out, so it took a while for my eyes to focus in the shade of the tent. I grabbed a spot and started getting changed. In hindsight, I’d have worn my trisuit to swim, but this time around I was set on having dry clothes at least to start out with on the bike. I did my best to wriggle into my clothes (dry clothes/wet body equals slow going, thankfully a volunteer grabbed me and helped me get sorted) and slapped on my sunscreen, praying that I’d gotten it on every part of my skin. I threw on some Chamois Butt'r (do not leave home without it), grabbed sunglasses, emergency pharmaceutical ziploc (i.e., Zantac, Advil, Imodium) and a couple of extra Gu Gels. Finally, helmet on; I headed out to get my bike, yelling "226, 226!" so that a volunteer could grab it for me.

The bike mount line felt like the beginning of a rodeo bull ride, you literally get your leg over your bike, clip in and catapult yourself down a ramp, where you make a quick right hand turn and torpedo into the first downhill on the race course. After the race, my family was telling me about all the riders who had run into the hay bales at the bottom of this hill, which I apparently had been totally unaware of, in fact at breakfast the next morning I remember saying “what hay bales”? From there it was all about getting comfortable on the bike and settling into a rhythm as I made my way out of town toward the long descent into the village of Keene. During this first pass by the cottage we’d rented for the week I looked but couldn’t find my fans, it turns out that my family had taken up a roost near the aforementioned hay bails and they had cheered me on in silence as I came down the hill.

The trip up Keene was an interesting one, I’d come out of the water after a strong swim, but so did everone else it seems, and had one male competitor literally say to me “you must have had a good swim”, which immediately had me thinking, "skinny roadie, what the hell does he mean by that??"  Which led me right into a mantra of “beat ten men, beat ten men”.

As we approached the crest of the descent into Keene I heard “Hey, Nicole!”, it was Glen, another coach who I’d worked with in the spin studio over the winter. I yelled “Hey, have a great race!” and he was gone in a red-white-black Sugoi streak, on his way to a stellar finishing time in his first IM.

Now, I love the descent down into Keene, and the first one was just as great as I remember, I took advantage of the free speed, pedaling to the extent possible on the downhills, and moving through the semi-flat sections really comfortably. Arriving in Keene we all made a left and started moving through the flatter part of the course that takes us out the out-and-back section running into Ausable Falls, a sort of "blink and you miss it" hamlet that allows Ironman to take its main road over on a summer Saturday.

En route to Ausable Falls I made a quick stop at what became my favourite aid station to use the, ahem, facilities. I slowed to a stop and a volunteer immediately grabbed me and my bike saying "what do you need, can I fill anything up for you while you're in there?", talk about service! I asked for some water, and went about my business. Afterward she helped me get back on my bike and on my way. I can't say enough about the volunteers at this race, they truly make the athletes feel like superstars, and take care of pretty much every need - they even pick up our trash!

Through this section I ate, drank and stayed in an aero position as much as I could. I remember looked at the competitors as they passed me in the other direction as they returned from Ausable Falls, it was nice to see a lot of familiar faces in that group. This was also where I managed to start to make some gains, passing some people, and really starting to enjoy the ride. It wasn’t all fun and games though, this was about the point in the ride where I began having issues switching into the big ring on my front gears, which I typically use to gain speed on the downhills and carry speed over flatter bits, so I carried on, occasionally trying it out, but having less and less success each time I tried it. I have to cop to using my bike shop's name in vain a few times too I guess.

Once we made the right turn to head to Wilmington, the climbing legs were tested, and testing continued until we all got back to Placid just in time to do it all over again. Coming back into town there are 5 so-called rollers, named Little Cherry, Big Cherry, Mama Bear, Baby Bear and Papa Bear - if not the exact order, that is pretty close. And can I just say, there is nothing little, or familial about any of them!

There was a silver lining,  at the top of Papa Bear, athletes were greeted like it was the Alps in the Tour de France, people right on the road cheering, running alongside riders with noise makers, flashing lights and crazy costumes, it was an amazing rush! Arriving back in town I heard the announcer say my name as I came around the corner to start my second loop - which brought me to tears and covered my arms in goosebumps, it was a great feeling to hear people cheer me on as I rode by.

I wish I could say that the second loop of the ride was uneventful –  that it was as smooth or smoother than loop one – but I can't, although I did finally see my family, first Mom at the bottom of a hill, madly cheering and filming video, and then my husband who mouthed “Love you”, while my Dad waved and silently cheered (he's the strong silent type), with our two pups standing on their hind legs to look out the open rear window of our truck, patiently waiting for me to zoom by.

I think part of me was worried about the marathon to come, and my ride overall may have been more conservative than it should have been, but it being my first race of this magnitude, I didn't want to blow it all on the bike. I was also frustrated with my lack of big ring, and too worried about losing time to flag down one of the technical support vehicles to have a look, so the second loop was frustrating. To add to the fun, a headwind had developed through the day, which made it a bit more difficult to maintain the pace I’d hoped for. In fact, my second descent down into Keene was an entire 10k per hour slower than it had been in the morning, talk about wind.

I saw the funniest thing on that descent though, there was a guy riding in front of me for a while, who had decided to do his bike leg in running shorts, like the short kind that the Kenyans sport at marathons. And, he'd obviously gotten sort of cramp in his leg, because just as we were about to start the big descent, he had one of his legs out of his pedals and extended backward in a stretch. I guess he was having a hard time getting comfortable. It was entertaining to watch, I was cracking up. Ultimately, I made a move to pass him right before the hill got steeper, just in case he took a fall as a result of his acrobatics.

To conclude, the second bike loop did not go as planned and was much slower than the first, but through it my body felt good, my nutrition and hydration were really bang on, and despite some struggles in the winds and hills through the High Peaks Gorge, I came off the bike smiling.

Ok, I was dying to give Stan away to the first available volunteer, and happy to get started on my run, I'd eaten and hydrated well, so I was ready. I actually think I heard Stan yell “Go Engine Go!” as I ran away from him toward the change tent, 183.8 kilometres down, 42.2 to go!