Ironman USA Lake Placid
LaKe Placid, New York

Some photos from the days before the race:

Sunday, July 28, 2002

My day didn’t go quite according to plan.  But, does it ever?  Successful Ironman races go to those who can overcome the inevitable obstacles that arise during the long day.  Those who can’t struggle to finish and, if they’re gluttons for punishment, look forward to doing better the next time out.  As soon as possible, preferably.

I had the normal pre-event night’s sleep.  And my blender breakfast and stretching routine were fine.  I wasn’t feeling quite at 100%, but I told myself it was just a worse than usual case of pre-race nerves.

Craig with his Sister and Mother ("I'm so cool it's scary")

Leslie & Stuart (Nice 'Deer In The Headlights' Look)

Mary Ivy, Roger, Steve, Renate (Looking A Little Green Already)

Getting to the race site plenty early.  Putting my drink bottles on the bike as well as a gel flask.  Checking the air in the tires about a million times.  Putting a gel flask in the bike to run transition bag.  Getting with Stuart and Craig to walk up and put our special needs bags where they were supposed to go.  There were short lines at the porta-potties so I opted to visit.  No luck.  Walk up to the special needs section.  Craig lets out an expletive deleted.  Turns out he forgot his run gel flasks back at the condo.  Stuart and I send him back to the crew to see if someone could go back and get them.  Stuart comes up with the idea of having somebody go back while Craig is on the bike and giving the stuff to a volunteer to put in Craig’s bike to run gear bag, so he runs back to the crew to help sort out the plan.  I now have all our bags and I carry them up to the special needs drop-off.  When I get back the plan has been hatched and approved.  After they see all three of us start the bike, Craig’s support crew and Renate will take the parking shuttle back to pick up their car (our car and Stuart’s car would probably not be able to get back into their lot if they were taken out) and then drive to the condo to get the gel flasks.  They will then drive back to the shuttle lot and take the shuttle into town.  They will give the flasks to a volunteer who will put them into Craig’s bag.  All will be right with the world.  It was a good plan and Craig was back on track.  I went to the porta-potty.  Still no luck.  I was mildly concerned.

Soon it was time to put on wetsuits.  Pre-race pictures, handshakes and kisses.  Over the timing mat and into the water.  A little bit of breast stroke, a little bit of free style and then stand around for a few minutes.  The national anthem.  Just a few more minutes.  I breast stroke out to my starting position.  Some pre-race babble from the officials, mostly telling us that if we saw the big red flag on the dock, the swim was over and we were supposed to stop.  I think they mentioned something about getting in a boat or heading to shore.  A new safety feature added to the swim, because of the Ironman Utah adventure I guess.  I’m not sure how visible the red flag was going to be from a half mile away, but if it made the officials happy . . .

Finally, the cannon and the calm, smooth lake turns into a frothing cauldron of rubber-coated humanity all trying to swim in the same spot.  Usually there’s the immediate shot of adrenaline accompanied by the fight or flee reaction.  This time I was pretty calm.

In retrospect, I had positioned myself poorly for the swim.  Usually I’m quite far from the buoy line and towards the back of the pack.  This time I got more on the buoy line and closer to the front.  I wanted a good swim and I was hoping to get some drafting benefits from the people in front of me.  Instead, I got hammered.  Pretty much the entire swim was on the violent side.  I was hit on my arm hard enough for the button on my watch to be pressed to register a split time.  That happened twice.  A little over seven minutes into the race and then again about ten minutes from the end of the swim.  My goggles were knocked askew once and I had to stop and drain the water.  I was concerned about losing a contact lens, but I didn’t.  I had several people start breast stroking right in front of me.  Somebody let loose a thunderclap of a kick right next to my head.  I moved away from that person as fast as I could.  And the usual congestion at the turns.  Then the way back to shore, across the timing mat.  My first lap time was 38:07 and I was kind of disappointed.  I was hoping to be around 35:00, but I could never get into a “reach, roll and relax” swim.  Maybe the second lap would be better.

This Is The walk To Start Lap 2

And maybe not.  Mirror Lake, where the swim takes place, has an underwater cable to which the buoys are attached.  Swimming along the cable is a great navigation aid.  Unfortunately, that’s the line everybody wants to swim.  I didn’t see the cable during the first lap, but I did get on it for the second lap.  Maybe another not so wise move.  I ended up getting boxed in and I couldn’t get away from where I was.  And still more kicking and punching.  And more swallowing of lake water.  Finally getting back to shore and across the timing mat for the end of the swim.  I had a second lap time of 39:07 for a total swim of 1:17:12 (fourteen seconds slower than last year’s time).  Fairly disappointing.  I had done 1:14:27 in New Zealand and I was hoping to be pretty close to 1:10:00 for this one.  But, it wasn’t the end of the world and I was feeling pretty good physically.  At this point I was 175th in the M40-44 age group and 1150th overall.  (I didn’t know this during the race.  I found it out by looking at the results afterwards.)

Wetsuit strippers are one of the great inventions of triathlon.  Laying on my back and having two cute girls take my wetsuit off is a good way to finish the swim.  Then the long run to the transition area.  Run past my gear bag and have to go back.  Over to the changing tent.  Saw a vacant chair right outside the tent so I sat down and put on my socks and shoes.  Then the race number belt, helmet and sunglasses.  And off to fetch Rita for a nice ride through the area surrounding Lake Placid.  The transition took 5:39.  Not great, but not overly bad considering the long run from the lake.

The Start Of Bike Lap 1

In Town At End Of Lap 1

After 111.5 Miles

As you can imagine with 1149 people in front of me, the bike course was pretty crowded for the first five miles or so.  I always worry about picking up a drafting penalty in those situations.  I just try to move through the packs as quickly as possible.  Getting a penalty so early in the bike is a pain.  Right, Craig?

The first lap of the bike went well.  Having done the race last year, I sort of knew what to expect.  There are about 7.5 miles of rollers, some a little steep, leaving town.  Then a six mile, mostly downhill with some flat, stretch into the town of Keene.  Lots of signs telling trucks to use low gear.  I hit a maximum speed of 45 mph here, which is plenty fast for me.  I rode a lot of the downhill parts with my hands on the handlebar drops instead of using the aerobars.  It just felt a little more comfortable for me.

Then a long stretch of mostly flat riding with some great scenery.  A left at the town of Jay and a Shed Road type of climb to Wilmington.  Not overly steep, just long.  Stay in a low gear and spin up to the top.  I passed quite a few people on this section.  (All those repeats up Shed Road in training helped.)  Then there’s a 14 mile out and back stretch (seven miles out and seven miles back for all you math majors) that’s pretty much all up and down.  It was also very crowded with bikers.

Once out of the out and back section and back onto the main roads, probably the hardest riding of the course starts.  The miles between 45 and 55 are tough.  It’s not all uphill, but it feels like it is.  Just kind of take the hills one at a time, spinning and keeping the heart rate under control.  And staying hydrated and fueled.  Things were going pretty well for me.

Then it’s back into town and the special needs section.  I caught Dr. Trager here and was very surprised.  He was in his usual left-side of the lane position.  Chatted very briefly.  Saw the crew.  Zipped around town.  Heard the announcer announce “Steve Noone from Glenmoore, Massachusetts”.  I wasn’t exactly sure what happened to Pennsylvania.  Crossed over the timing mat with a first lap time of 2:36:14 (21.5 mph) and then headed out to do it all over again.

Which would have been boring.  Good thing there was lots of heavy rain, some light rain, a bunch of wind and a touch of sunshine to make things fun.  That steep downhill section in the rain was especially entertaining.  Fortunately the riders were spread out.  Although there were still lots of people getting pulled over for violations.  (I saw a lot of numbers with slashes through them during the course of the ride.)

Again, just trying to keep things under control.  Continuing to fuel and hydrate.  Spinning up hills and passing through the odd pack of riders as quickly as possible.  Into the out and back section.  Around the turnaround.  Reminiscing about last year when I got up close and personal with the pavement.  Deciding not to get anything at the offending aid station.  And boogieing back out to the main road.  Craig mentioned later that he saw me when I was going out and he was coming back.  I didn’t see him.  Which was probably a good thing.  I might have started riding too hard in an unwise attempt to catch him.

I did take a healthy shot of hammer gel on the back section.  This was one of the things I learned from New Zealand – that I really needed to bump up the calories towards the end of the ride.  The caffeine in the gel was also beneficial.

And then just riding that tough ten mile stretch back to town.  Lots of cheering spectators.  Carefully around the corners and back to the transition area.  The second lap time was 2:47:22 (20.1 mph), good considering the fairly drastic change in the weather.  That gave me a total ride time of 5:23:38 (20.8 mph), beating last year’s time by more than 13 minutes.  I guess it helps to stay on the bike.

At this point in the race my time was 6:46:28 and I was in 197^th place overall and in 30^th place in my age group.  (Again, I didn’t know this during the race.)

Handing Rita over to a volunteer.  Taking off my bike shoes and running to the gear racks.  Having another volunteer hand me my gear bag.  (Volunteers are great!)  Into the tent this time.  Off with the wet socks.  On with dry socks and shoes.  Change my shirt.  And then out to the run course.  A 3:42 transition.

Now to just crank out a 3:30 marathon and I would probably be on my way to Hawaii.  That’s basically an eight minute per mile pace.  Heck, a 3:45 marathon would probably be good enough.  And I was going out feeling the best I’d ever felt starting an Ironman run. Heck, I even waved to my number one fan. My plan was not to necessarily worry about individual mile splits, the course is kind of rolling, but instead to shoot for forty minutes per five mile stretch.  And to just stay relaxed and focused, fueling and hydrating along the way.  Man, this was going to be fun. About ten minutes in, both quads cramped tight.  I walked through an aid station, about a minute, and they loosened up so that I could continue running.  I had half expected to get cramps early in the run, since that seems to be my history.  In the past though, it’s been the right hamstring that causes the problem.  And that felt fine.  Well, just keep going and see what happens.

My first five mile split was 38:53 (a 7:47 pace) and I was feeling great.  I went around the first run turnaround and about a minute later saw Craig.  I found out later that I passed him while he was in the porta-potty.  I passed somebody in my age group and he said I was in 20^th place.  I wasn’t keeping score, but that’s what the Hawaii slots rolled down to last year, so things were going pretty well.  Through about eight miles.  Then BOOM.  Major sickness.  Have to stop and heave.  And heave.  And heave.  And nothing is coming out.  Now chills and sweats.  More heaving.  What the #$@% is going on?  How can I go from feeling almost perfectly to feeling like I’m going to be violently ill in a matter of minutes?  And I pretty desperately needed a visit to the potty.

I sort of ran to the next aid station.  Both the potties were occupied.  I decided that I could make it to the next aid station so I didn’t wait.  More of a semi-run.  More empty heaving.  The next aid station and more occupied potties.  What was everyone’s problem?  Why did everyone have to crap at the same time?  Maybe I should have waited, but I decided to head out once again.  My second five mile split was 43:17 (8:40 pace) and I was fading rapidly.

Finally, an empty potty.  A, what seemed like, lengthy sit-down.  Ah, much better.  Good thing to get rid of the potential for a poo bum.  Unfortunately, more chills and sweats.  Parts of me were feeling better, but other parts were not.  I was at the bottom of the long hill that goes back into town.  I decided I’d walk up that and re-evaluate at the top.  Craig’s friends walked me to the top.  Outside assistance, I guess, but I didn’t think I’d get disqualified.  Actually, I wasn’t thinking, period.

Craig was about five minutes in front of me at this point.  There was some concern from the Ironcrew when Craig went by on the run.  They didn’t see any of the gel flasks in his fuel belt.  I wonder what happened to them . . .

I tried to run a little bit after the hill, but anything longer than thirty seconds brought on the heaves accompanied by chills and sweats.  I guess it was going to be a longer marathon than I had planned.  Nothing like 16 miles of walking to finish off an Ironman.  Stuart caught up to me about the thirteen mile point and tried everything in his power to get me to run.  I really appreciated the effort, and desperately wanted to run, but I knew it wasn’t going to happen.  And I didn’t want him to ruin his day so I told him to go on without me.  And then I walked.

Pretty much all the way to the finish line.  I was trying calories, cola and chicken broth and gel, and water and then no calories or fluid.  But every time I would run for longer than thirty seconds I would have the same problems.  So, I walked.  As I headed out on the last little section in town, about two miles, both Craig and Stuart offered to walk with me to the finish.  Again, I greatly appreciated the offer and the friendship, but I declined.  The last thing I needed to hear was that they did a 28 mile marathon while I only did 26.  I did manage to run, very slowly, about the last half mile to the finish line.  My marathon time was 5:53:54, slower than my 112 mile bike ride by thirty minutes.  The last 16 miles took over 4.5 hours.  My overall time was 12:44:03 and I came in 813th place out of 1624 official finishers.  (One person finished in 17:00:13.  I don’t know if she was considered an official finisher or not.  It looks like there were 1751 people who finished the swim.)  I was 132nd out of 278 finishers in the M40-44 age group.  My eighth Ironman was in the books.  By far, my slowest. As I crossed the finish line, a volunteer wondered why I wasn’t all hot and sweaty.  I commented that one does not get very sweaty walking 16 miles.  He noted that, based on the finish time, I must have had a very good bike.  And, indeed, I had.  The volunteer asked if I wanted a picture taken with my finisher medal, but I politely declined.  And I didn’t need the Mylar blanket, either.  I just wanted to collect my belongings and get the hell out of there.

So, I wandered over to the gear racks to get my bags.  While there I saw a very pretty and tanned young woman.  Her bright white shirt had the words “GO BARRY” on it.  The “G” and the “O” were in very strategic positions with the “BARRY” underneath.  I thought to myself that Barry must be a very lucky guy (but not nearly as lucky as I).  Craig apparently got caught with his jaw down around his knees.  And Stuart didn’t think they were letters on her . . .

I got my gear bags, collected Rita, found the Ironcrew and headed home.

I guess I’m happy to say that I never contemplated dropping out.  I knew I had plenty of time to finish the marathon.  And I never really thought about not doing another one.  I tried to figure out what went wrong.  I knew I woke up not feeling 100%, which I guess was more than just pre-race nerves.  I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary the days before the race (I didn’t even try Leslie’s green beans).  I also drank a bit of lake water during the swim, but I wouldn’t think that would affect me so quickly, if at all.  I did get chills during the rainy portions of the bike, but, again, didn’t think much of it at the time.

Two days after the race I felt fine.  In fact, after the race I felt pretty good.  So my immediate thoughts were “did I try hard enough or did I just weenie out”.  When the going got tough, did I not get going?  I’m going to consider it an aberration.  I’ll make a few minor adjustments before the next race.  Which, as I’m writing this, just happens to be in six weeks.  See you all in Madison, Wisconsin.

Epilogue:

Some time during the drive home I decided that I would sign up for Ironman USA Lake Placid 2003.  My thinking is that the third time is going to be the charm.  It’s either that, or three strikes and it’s out.  So, pretty much as soon as we got in the house I fired up the computer and logged onto the web site.  And registered.  Renate was standing there the whole time, more or less just shaking her head and saying “what am I going to do with you?”

The memories of the bad race are starting to fade and the excitement of training for the next one is starting to build.  And the thoughts I had during my long walk on Sunday about getting a job and getting on with my life . . . well, those memories are starting to fade, too.  Anyone up for Shed Road repeats?

Some Additional Observations:

The days before the race were fun.  Lots of laughing and joking.  I think Craig cheats at Rummy Cube.  And he’s got an evil streak – putting his Sustained Energy up high so Stuart can’t reach it.  Although Stuart got him back by making him model his running costume before the race.  And then Stuart hung his hair clippers from the curtain rod, telling me that when I qualified for Hawaii he was going to put them to use.

It continues to amaze me how Stuart can change so many key things right before a race and still do very well.  The disk wheel wasn’t so bad, since he’s used one before.  But getting a brand new one-piece race costume at the expo and then wearing it for the first time at the race.  He was very happy that I got a new seat bag for my bike the day before the race.  And I was worried about bad luck.  Maybe I ought to change lots of things the night before Ironman Wisconsin.  By the way, I did shave my legs for this race.

Thanks to Roger and Mary Ivy for fetching the pizza and beer after the race.  That was an entertaining adventure in it’s own right, but we ended up with six pizzas by the time the night was over.

Thanks, everybody, for reading. Hope you had a good time.

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