This is really late, but I thought I’d toss it out to the group. I got some good advice for my race by reading these forums, and thought I should give something back.
So this is one IM virgin’s view of the IM-LP 2005 race:
All I can say is WOW. What a weekend…
I’m STILL pretty amped up from the event. From the peaks of elation at the finish, to the “I don’t deserve to be here” thoughts during some tough going on the bike & run, the range of emotions that one goes through in an event like this is staggering.
Where to start? Ok, at the beginning…
We headed off for Lake Placid early Friday morning. We had an uneventful drive until we got within 20 minutes of our hotel, where the car got hit by a rock and cracked the windshield. It was a nice clean star-break that we watched slowly cross the windshield all weekend. Fortunately it held together during the whole weekend.
People often complain about the high cost of these events, but you certainly get your money’s worth in organization. Check in Friday was a breeze, considering MOST of the athletes were checking in on Friday afternoon. There were lots of ID checks, medical review and a weigh-in, then a sit down with a volunteer to go over the extensive numbering A number on the bike, one helmet, two race numbers for the body, number on the official swim cap, numbers on the swim-to-bike bag, the bike-to-run bag, and two ‘special needs’ bags. After check in, I went out for a quick run to shake off the drive. The town was really filling up with triathletes, volunteers, officials and spectators. The run & bike courses had a bunch of people in full training mode, and the lake was filled with swimmers. Hadn’t these people learned to TAPER??
Saturday morning, I put the bike together and went out on a very short ride to make sure that all was in order. Afterwards, we took the bike over to the transition area, found my spot and got the bike settled in. It was a little unnerving leaving the bike overnight, but security was really tight. Only athletes identified with numbered wristbands were allowed in the transition areas. As it turned out, leaving my bike early in the day was a good thing, because the transition area became a ZOO in the afternoon.
The tranistion area is in and around the outdoor skating oval, which sits right next to the 1932 & 1980 Olympic centers. This spot has so much history. The outdoor oval is where Eric Heiden set his records, and won his medals during the '80 games. Between the expo, finish line setup, roll-away bleachers, jumbo-tron, transition area, port-o-johns and all the other paraphenalia, the area got pretty crowded, but again it was all really well organized.
After I got the bike setup, Fran & I wandered around the expo (lots of IM stuff, and a huge tent full of ‘toys’ from In & Out Sports. There were great displays from Cervelo (drool - carbon P3 only $5,000) and other vendors. We ran into a lot of other folks we’ve met from previous events. It was like homecoming week. After the mandatory 2:00pm race meeting (held in the shiny aluminum bleachers, without a lick of shade) we headed back to the hotel, climbing up the 14% grade driveway of the Crowne Plaza. We hung out at the hotel, napped and stayed cool. We had a friend and his girlfriend who were working as volunteers for the race staying with us, and they showd up right before dinner, so we all chowed down at the pasta bar in the hotel, then got
settled down in the room for the night.
The alarm went off at 4:30, and woke me from a dead sleep. I thought that I’d be up all night worrying about the race, but that wasn’t the case at all. I really didn’t get all that nervous in the early morning. From 4:30 until 5:45, I ate, got my fuel supplies ready, ate
some more, got dressed, ate again and headed down to the start.
This is when the butterflies start.
From our room we can see the main drag of Lake Placid Village. There is now a continual stream of people headed to the oval, like pilgrims headed to a holy shrine. As we walked down the hill to join then, you can really begin to feel the anticipation like static electricity through the whole site. I got to the transition area, and hung my T1 and T2 bags up on the hooks. Picture long, narrow aisles in a discount store, barely wide enough to walk down. Now add in 4000 stuffed bags, hung on two levels, blue on top (swim to bike) red on bottom (bike to run). As I hung up the back I was thinking that the gear storage would turn into a killing zone when everyone descended on the site at about the same time. As it turned out, it was only really crowded AFTER the race.
Next it was time to suit up and get numbered. My race number was ‘1234’ and that got a LOT of attention from the numbering volunteers. Numbers are written in permanent marker, each arm & leg, with your age on the back of your right calf I was wondering if this made it easier to locate missing limbs after the swim.
Then we headed to the swim start. Mirror lake is a very pretty site, most of the time. Toss in 2000 wetsuit clad triathletes, about 2000 spectators, a very narrow beach front and it got really congested, really fast.
The 2005 Lake Placid race featured the pro women, with all the prize money going to the top 10 women. In order to keep them sort-of separate from the top age-group men, they were given a 35 minute head start. So basically, they were on their second loop of the swim when we started our swim.
I took my coaches advice and tried to stay near the dock, at the front of the pack. This was easier said than done with all the bodies kicking paddling to stay afloat, and everyone trying to get near the front. Finally, the big countdown and then the cannon went off. I began to sprint away from the pack, using my well planned strategy.
That lasted about 60 seconds. It seems that EVERYONE had the same strategy, which meant that all 2000 were trying to occupy the same spot in the water, at the same time. It wasn’t a swim, it was a bar fight in the water. I got kicked, punched, slapped, gouged and run-over. For a few minutes it was pretty scary. Then my high-school water-polo training kicked in and I just put my head down and swam for all I was worth. Eventually I found myself in some open water, but I was INSIDE the bouys, and risking a penalty. Fortunately there was a bunch of us stuck in this place, so no way was anyone going to get our numbers, plus we were right inside the markers. I finally got out and pulled away a bit, locating the underwater guide wire that held the buoys in place. That was a lucky break, because it meant that I didn’t have to sight on anything on shore (not that I could with all the people swimming in front of me) and I could maintain good form and keep my head down.
As I got out of the water to complete the first lap, I caught sight of the timer: 28 minutes and change. DEEYUMM, that was quick. I run across the timing mats, and head back out. On the second lap, I quickly found the guide wire, and a couple of other swimmers on which to draft. They lost steam about 2/3ds of the way around the second lap, so I had the water to myself for a good bit. I popped out at the shore and checked my time. 57 minutes and change. About 3 minutes better than I had planned.
The swim was over.
There were volunteers right at the waters edge to help peel your wetsuit off. That was a treat, because it was a pretty good run from the lake to the transition area. The organizers had the pavement covered with astroturf, which made it a lot easier on bare, wet and wrinkled feet.
I got through T1 pretty quickly, and headed for my bike. Again, volunteers were standing by to unhook your bike and hand it off to you. This was a theme of the entire event. The volunteers were AWESOME. There were something like 4000 volunteers in the event manning everything from aide stations, medical tents, directing traffic etc. All the atheletes had to do was race.
The first bike loop was uneventful. I had a good loop, felt strong, kept the pace hard, but managable and kept to my fueling & hydration plan. Once I was back in town, I stopped at the special needs area, and reloaded my fuel, and headed out for the second loop. At this point I had averaged about 18mph. Not to shabby, considering the terrain.
On the second loop, my fueling problems began. About 1/2 way around, on the climb up to the Hasselton Rd out-&-back section, I was feeling pretty bloated and didn’t want to eat or drink a thing. I kept forcing myself to do so, but it was really hard to choke down the gu and liquids. This was probabaly the lowest point in the race. I was 80 miles into the bike, was looking at 32 hard miles, and a marathon,and my GI tract was fighting me.
So I just put my head down, shut out the negative thoughts, and focused really hard on all the people in my life that helped me to get to this spot. Thinking of the support I knew I had behind me got me through that tough stretch.
At the bottom of the very last set of climbs, I began to cramp up really bad in my inner thighs. I’ve had this happen before in the heat, and knew that getting off the bike to stretch would be worse than just toughing it out. I grabbed the lowest gear I had and just spun up the hills.
Close to the end of the ride, there are three hills, named Momma Bear, Baby Bear, and Poppa Bear. Poppa Bear is the biggest, and steepest.I tried to focus on what one of my MTB buddies & I went through on one of the 100+ mile Bernardsville mountain double-loop rides and just ground out the climb. The best part about it was the hill was lined with spectators all chanting, calling out your name and number and encouraging you on. It was really a cool moment when I crested the climb, made the turn at the top and knew I only had a few minutes left until I could get off the bike.
At the T2, I headed into the tent at a slow wobble, and began to get into my running shoes. The transition tent was staffed by professionals who administer ART - Active Release Therapy. They are there to make sure that you are feeling ok, have enough to drink, help get your stuff together, slather you with sunscreen, and, if needed, apply a quick massage. I had one of the guys work on my cramping thighs, and it really did the trick. I got up, ran out of the tent and headed out
of town on the run.
The run course is pretty flat, except for the section right out of town, which drops away pretty quickly, meaning you have to climb back up, TWICE.
Again the volunteers were spectacular. The aid stations were really well staffed, stocked with lots of food, water, ice, and cold sponges. I quickly learned to LOVE the sponges up on my shoulders, under my tri-suit
After a couple of miles on the run, I realized that my GI tract was basically shut down for the duration. Lots of cramping, bloating and nausea. I suppose this is what PMS feels like, so I’m really glad I’m a guy. The problems forced me to walk about 1/2 of the marathon, which is where I lost so much time. Finally at 19 miles, I decided that I really should find a port-a-john and try to get some relief. At mile 22, I found one that wasn’t listed as a toxic waste site, and did my business. I felt a lot better, and began a slow jog for about 1/2 a mile. Finally, after a bit of gagging, I felt like a new man, and began to run. The last 4 miles were by far the fastest of my entire run.
At about 23 miles, I began to hear the crowds cheering at the finish. At this point the race turns right, away from the start/finish, and heads down a short out-&-back section along Mirror Lake drive. This was my second time on this loop, and it felt so great knowing that my race was almost over. Especially as I pass other folks who are just finishing their FIRST lap, and are headed out for another 2-3 hours.
Yikes…
Finally, I’m headed down the final stretch, all blessedly downhill. The crowds are held back by grates but everyone is clapping and screaming and waving, calling your name & number, it was a truly surreal experience. I hit the entrance to the oval, gave two kids high fives and that was the last bit of pain I felt.
Instantly, all the soreness, exhaustion, aches and pains were gone, and I felt myself start to run at a dead sprint. I don’t think I felt my feet hit the ground for the last 100 meters. Then it was there, the big finish line marker, and the time clock. I hit the tape, and let out the largest primal scream known to man.
I was quickly grabbed by two volunteers who wrapped me in a towel and mylar blanket. They had a pretty good grip on me, in case I collapsed. But I felt so elated; I think that they were actually holding me DOWN on the ground. It was almost like an out-of-body experience. I had no sense of physical pain, just a strong electrical current running through my whole body. I can’t wait to see the official pictures, as I expect sparks to be shooting out the top of my head.
I guess it is best summed up as a truly life-changing experience, and one that I will cherish forever.