Iron Man Lake Placid Recap (7/26/23)

Why Placid?

Lake Placid was my 2^nd full Iron Man back in 2016.  That was a special race for me and really cemented my love of triathlons and specifically the Iron Man distance. It was also in Placid that I learned that I love, love, love hilly courses and that they work to my advantage. The minute I ran into the Olympic Speed Skating Oval and crossed the finish line that July, I knew I would be back one day. So, when I started to hear rumors in 2021 that Iron Man’s relationship with Lake Placid wasn’t great and that the town maybe wasn’t super thrilled about hosting the race indefinitely, I wanted to be sure to get my return race on the books and plunked down my credit card the day registration for the 2023 race was open.  Then came word that Placid was one of the races that was going to get additional qualification slots for women to go to the IronMan World Championship in Kona this year (up to 17 slots in my age group) – bonus! Finally, my training buddy Deb Ryan decided to do Placid, and that's when I knew it was going to be epic.

Accommodations

We stayed in a great little Air BNB about a 20 minute walk from the start.  I have learned that for the sake of my relationship, it is very important that my partner Dave have a place within walking distance on race day.  It’s such a long day for spectators (especially when it’s not a team race and there’s no amazing Team Z hospitality tent) and parking in Placid can be tricky.  It’s just better if he can walk me to the start, watch me get on the bike, and then have a place to walk back and relax/take a nap until the run. 

I've also learned it's important for me to be just a little bit away from the Iron Man craziness. Our place was in a quiet neighborhood, so we weren’t constantly surrounded by the nervous energy triathletes radiate in the days before a race.  I create enough nervous energy all on my own. 

One note: I started trying to make Air BNB reservations the day I registered and a lot of the places that were posted as available didn’t yet know the Iron Man date for 2023 and had not yet changed their listing based on that information.  Several had either already promised their place to somebody for Iron Man (without knowing the date) or had much higher rates for the event.  What was posted on the website, wasn’t always the full story.

Days leading up to the race

We arrived in Lake Placid on Thursday and Deb and I went to pick up our numbers.  Nothing was pre-assigned and they were just assigning numbers as people came in, so we got consecutive numbers (831 and 832), which meant that our bikes and transition bags were next to each other (which was nice, as our bikes have biked a lot of miles together this summer, and it's important for a bike to have a friend in the race transition area 😂).  

I have good luck with race numbers with 8 in them, so that was a good race omen. 

I always take my bike to the expo mechanic first thing for a pre-race check. It’s probably a waste of money, but having mechanical issues during a race is something that fills me with anxiety, so anything I can do to calm those particular pre-race nerves is helpful. Plus, with this race Kona slots were on the line, so a mechanical issue could mean missing out on that opportunity. When I dropped it off, I told the mechanics that if there was anything wrong that couldn't be fixed by Sunday morning I didn't want to know. 

Over the course of Friday and Saturday I did a short run, short ride, and short swim. All of them felt slow and hard and terrible. I’ve done enough Iron Mans now to know that is totally normal and to just go with it.

The night before the race we had salad, spaghetti and garlic bread at our Air BNB and watched “Miracle On Ice” because, well, Lake Placid.

I slept horribly the night before the race, but I knew that would happen and had gotten lots of sleep the week prior in preparation.

Nutrition

My race nutrition is probably not ideal, but it seems to work for me. Oatmeal on race morning. Gels and Gatorade Endurance when moving during the race (mostly because I'm not talented enough to eat anything more than a Gu when riding without crashing). PB&Js in all of my transition bags and special needs bags.

Swim

The 2 1/2 mile Lake Placid swim is two loops and is unique in that you actually get out of the water between the loops, running across the sand to get back in the lake. It’s a glorious swim in Mirror Lake (no, not in Lake Placid, weirdly) – clear, calm, crisp water and the next buoy is always in view.  They sent us off 6 at a time, and it kept the course from getting too congested. In 2016, I think they sent us off by age group and it was the roughest swim (rough people – not water) that I’ve ever been in.  This time was much, much better.  The second loop was a little more congested than the first, but nothing crazy.  Overall, the swim felt controlled, strong and, dang, Placid is just such a beautiful place (even when you are swimming).

T1

Getting out of my wetsuit is me at my least coordinated, so the fact that wetsuit strippers are back at races post-covid is AMAZING (yay volunteers!).  The swim took more out of me than I remember at past races, so the trip to pick up my bike gear bag and get to the women’s changing tent was not a sprint. My transitions are on the slow side, but I’ve never forgotten anything essential (including sunblock), so I think it’s a trade I’m willing to make.

I picked up my bike (there was a bit of a struggle to get it off the transition rack, as bikes were packed pretty tightly – definitely should have practiced that on race morning. When I turned on my bike computer, it was still showing the data for my last ride in Frederick (DARN IT) so I had to take a sec to delete that ride and start a new one. It’s fine, everything is totally fine.

Bike

The Lake Placid bike is a gorgeous 2 loops (55 miles each - yes, the bike course was only 110 miles this year instead of 112...no complaints from me) with only one little section that does not have amazing views. It goes something like this:

• Out of town
• Up
• Flat out and back
• Down, Down, Down, Down, OMG how fast am I going?, Down, Down
• Flat
• Up, Up
• Out and back of despair (this is the section without inspiring scenery and with the very real knowledge of what is coming next)
• Up, Up, Up, Up, Up, Up, Up, Up, Up
• Back in town
• Repeat 

I still don’t love biking, but this course works for me because I do enjoy hills and have gotten slightly braver on downhills.  

I was definitely feeling the swim more than I anticipated, so the first loop involved fighting back some negative self-talk, particularly as I got passed by person after person. Getting passed by lots of cyclists is pretty typical for me at Iron Mans, so it’s very important that I watch the data on my bike computer and keep telling myself that fast cyclists passing me does NOT mean that I’m not strong, it just means that they are strong. Additionally, on the Lake Placid course, being a smart cyclist is just as important as being a fast one.  Just because you can fly through those hills, doesn’t mean you should. In the end, the run is patiently waiting for you and she is pretty brutal.  

I was also feeling some stomach gurgles, which caused some concern for the upcoming run.  

Mid-way through loop 1 I saw Debbie Pederson (a master at finding the perfect places to cheer on race courses). She had asked pre-race what I would want to hear and I had told her that my age group place was all I needed to know.  She told me I was in 6^th in my age group. Good, well within the 17 Kona slot range.

As I came through town to start loop 2 I saw Mark Edmunds handing out water at an aid station.  It was great to see a friend. Be sure to ask him about his aid station experience – he has a good story.

I stopped at Bike Special Needs for a PB&J and, more importantly, for the pepto bismol tablets I had packed in all of my transition and special needs bags (because gurgling). The pepto was last minute addition to my bags because I haven't needed it in the past, but it may have saved my race.

As I started loop 2 I was feeling a little bit stronger, but the totality of what was ahead started to get to my head and I started saying all of the things you say to yourself mid-way through an Iron Man. This sucks. Why the hell do I do this? What other things could I be doing right now? I wish I could say that I turned it all around or had an inspirational moment, but I didn’t.  I mostly just concluded that I was in the race and couldn't stop. I did start breaking the rest of the race into tiny pieces to make it more manageable, which helped. Since it was the second loop, after each section or landmark I started saying goodbye with the knowledge that I didn’t have to see them again.  Goodbye flat out and back!  Goodbye long downhill!  Goodbye funny sign for Anna somebody!  Goodbye A&W drive in!

Mid-way through loop 2 I saw Debbie again (at another great spot – how does she do it?) and she told me I was in 11^th but looking strong (I think I was actually looking pretty miserable, but she said it with enough confidence that I believed it). 11 is still less than 17. Good.

We had some rain on the uphill back in to town, but it was actually perfect. Temps had been rising and I had forgotten to take my arm warmers off at the bike special needs, so I needed the cool.  

This was also around the time I saw race officials for the first time all day.  When you are climbing for that long, clumps of riders just develop because it’s so much effort to pass people, but you also desperately want to keep your momentum.  We could hear the motor bike coming, and most of us spread out pretty quickly, but one guy was completely oblivious. He just kept climbing 1 bike length behind the guy in front of him (the rule is 3 bike lengths).  The race officials rode right next to him for what felt like 2  minutes (which is a long time) and he would not pass.  Eventually the race official couldn’t not give him a 5 minute penalty, which the rider immediately questioned.  The rest of us just shook our heads. Dude got a drafting penalty going 5 miles an hour.

T2

My T2 was very slow and I have no idea why. I did have some trouble getting more Peptos out of the packaging (rookie mistake: always put them in something easy to open). The tummy gurgling had lessened by this point, but I took them just as a precaution. I also awkwardly changed into running shorts, because comfort is important when doing something incredibly uncomfortable. 

Run

The Lake Placid 26.2 mile run is a long out and back out of town, back past the finish to another very short out and back in town, and then either back out for your second loop (not actually a loop, but I don’t know what to call it) or to the finish. It goes:

• Out of town
• Down, Down
• Long Flat 
• Up, Up
• Back in town
• Past the finish line 
• Short Flat (why did they tack this section onto the end instead of just making the earlier flat part longer? Except, oh there are lots of people cheering, so I feel like a rock star and that’s pretty cool)
• Out again or FINISH LINE!

I love, love, love running. I was off the bike without having had any mechanical issues, my stomach issues seemed to have passed (thank you Pepto) and my legs felt pretty ok. There was still 26.2 miles left, but this was 26.2 miles that I knew I could do.

Last I had heard, I was safely within the 17 Kona slots, so now was the delicate balance of don’t lose ground and DFIU (don’t f*&^ it up). My first lap was spent finding my pace and feeling my way through every bit of the course. I walked through every aid station and up every hill.  The aid stations were 1 mile apart – I took a water, an ice, and a Gatorade Endure at every station and took my time.  There are 2 big hills and 2 smaller hills on the course. In a race that long, running doesn’t get you up the hill that much faster and uses a lot more energy, so walking makes a lot of sense.

Around mile 14 I saw my coach, Ken Mierke, who told me I was safely back in 4^th place. On the podium!  Ok, ok, that’s great, but you still have a lot of miles left.  Don’t. Blow. This.

Throughout the run, I saw Deb, Adriana Anderson, and lots of DC Tri jerseys. Even if you don’t know the person, the DC connection is always nice and whenever I said “go DC Tri” they would instantly respond with “go Team Z!”

Somewhere in there my watch battery died. It was charged the night before the race, but I took it off the charger so I wouldn’t forget it. Apparently, it used enough battery just existing overnight to not make it through the race. Kind of a bummer, but in the end I think it might have been for the best.  The miles were marked and micro-managing my pace might have just stressed me out.  

In the long flat section I saw Debbie (I swear, she must have a guide book for places in Iron Man routes where people need to see you) who yelled “In 4th place but 3^rd is right in front of you and you are RUNNING HER DOWN.”

The next lady I saw said, “I think I might be the person you are running down.”  I asked her age and she was 35, so I was able to ease her concern.  The next two times I saw that runner on the course, she yelled “Go get her!” I love triathletes.

A big chunk of the run is in full view of the 1980 Olympic ski jump, adding a sense of majesty. At one point, you turn a corner and  there it is, cheering you on.  

Back into town, and on the short out and back that I HATED the first loop, I started to tear up. At this point, I knew that I had everything I needed to get to the end and I knew no women had passed me since I had moved back up to 4^th. The crowd was in full force and offering so much support. What originally seemed like an annoying out and back that they had to add in solely to extend the run course, became a moment to reflect on the day and really love being a triathlete.

Every Iron Man finish line is amazing and Placid’s is no exception. You spend the day seeing remnants of the 1980 Olympics, and you end the race running into the oval where the 1980 Olympics speed skating actually took place. It had rained a bit in town that day, so the oval was pretty wet because, as Dave pointed out, it’s built to be an ice rink and holding water is kind of it’s job.  I was more than happy to run through some big puddles to that glorious finish line.

Once across, I learned that I was officially 2^nd in my age group and Kona was actually happening. I'm still in shock. It was SUCH a good day (just ignore all of that stuff I was saying at the midway point of the bike).