Ironman USA Lake Placid - TriathlonFull Ironman

And then it did. I didn't wait, I just put my head down and began swimming. After the race, I heard two different stories from people about how the swim was--which made me believe I was surrounded by newbies. There were over 900 first timers doing IMLP, and we were just best friends on the swim. Nobody bashed me. If I tapped someone's feet in front of me, they moved off to the left or right to let me pass. We were crammed in together for sure, but somehow, I didn't feel claustrophobic. I managed to hang onto small patches of open water and navigate around others when they were in my way. And when I was in someone else's way, they gently pushed me aside with a stroke. One person actually grabbed my hips and pushed me (again, gently!) to the side to pass me. It was weird and a heckuva lot of fun! I also tried the trick of flooding cold water into my wetsuit as I swam by tugging on the neck. What a great trick--incredible, easy and wonderful. So thankful for the person who suggested this on the IMLP thread. You are a genius.

I came out of the first loop and looked at the clock. 47 minutes. I was a little bummed I was 7 minutes slower than I wanted to be, but figured that I'd still be in a solid good range for the finish of the swim. I paused before getting back in the water to jump up and down like a maniac because my family had spotted me and were waving their signs and cheering for me. It felt amazing.

The second loop was much clearer, but now people got a little more defensive about their spots. I decided to be a little more aggressive, so when people encroached on my square, I swam harder. This paid off in a big way because at one point, I looked down and there was the cable! Holy. Crap. I was swimming next to the cable. But then people got pushy and I decided it wasn't worth the aggravation, and moved back out a little. As I climbed out of the water and looked at my time, I was floored. I'd made up some serious time and swam the second half in about 32 minutes!

Absolutely nothing. I came in a minute under what I was hoping for. This was my most favorite, funnest, most thrilling and rewarding swim I've ever done. Great way to start the race.

Longest. Run. To. Transition. Ever. They should deduct this distance from the run portion! ;) Still, running through the crowds after the swim was such a blast. I was already having such a great time, I didn't really care. This was due in large part to the two awesomest wetsuit strippers ever known to mankind. I had no idea what to expect, but when they (gently!) shoved me to the ground and in one flash yanked the suit off like it was nothing, I thought I would just about die from the thrill. SO cool.

I had decided not to rush in T1. Got my bags and mostly did everything myself. Changed out of my tri top and put on a sports bra and bike jersey. Dried my feet, put on my socks and bike shoes. Optimistically slapped on some sunblock. I had told my family to write me short notes to read during the race, so here I read a note from my parents, and another one from my best friend, who wasn't able to make it to the race. I immediately started to tear up before I even got past "Dear Mirjam." It was really inspiring and encouraging to know they were behind me the whole way, though you could only have them yell and ring a cowbell on the course. So reading their sincere congratulations during a moment in the transition tent was a really wonderful thing to experience. So yeah. There's where my long azz time in transition went. And worth every last second.

Here's the note from my parents:

Lieve Mirjam:
We are very proud of you. We admire how you prepare, how you plan and how you perform. We believe in you! Enjoy this Ironman and we will embrace you at the finish. Veel liefs, Marthe en Peter

And from my best friend:

Mirjam:

Perseverance + tenacity + strength + femininity = YOU and the power to move heaven and earth. GO GET IT. With great love, great respect and great admiration, Patty

And this Dr. Seuss quote "from" her newborn baby, Zoe: You have brains in your head, you have feet in your shoes, you can steer yourself any direction you choose. Oh the places you'll go!

Nothing. I wasn't trying to compete for any specific time here, just enjoying the journey.

The bike started off in rain. I intended to go easy on both loops and tried my best to stick to the plan. Stayed seated on every last hill, and let people stand up and hammer past me ("I'll see you on the run!" I thought to myself many, many times) stayed aero when I could. I also planned to drink every 10-15 minutes and take some nutrition every 18. That so didn't happen, and I think it had to do with the fact that (sorry, TMI!) I had some female cramping issues--SUCH awful timing, literally about an hour into the bike. After that, as I was biking, I kept saying to myself, "You should eat something" and I'd try to take a bite of something here or there and it just wasn't working. I felt awful. So by the time I hit the end of the first loop, I was feeling my standard not-unpleasant buzz in my head. I knew, I knew, I knew I had messed that up. But all I could do was try to eat what I could and keep going. The course is so beautiful. I got passed the entire way, but I'm just not that great a cyclist, so I knew that would happen. Still, everyone was super encouraging and nice. My friend Bob Norman passed me at one point. He was grinning like a fool and I just loved his attitude, and reminded myself I was DOING an Ironman and to enjoy every second of it! The volunteers were great! A little girl named Hannah got me water in Jay. Some guy was being a total jerk to her, she asked him if he needed anything and he just sort of ignored her because he was waiting for the bathroom. I asked her for water and when she got it for me, I asked her what her name was and said "That's my sister's name, too! Thank you SO much, Hannah!" I hope the other guy heard me and turned down the jerk button a little. Sheesh. If you're stopping for a long old port-a-potty break, exactly how serious are you about your race time?

The climb back into town through Wilmington was rough, more people passing me. But I was having a good time. All three of the "bear" hills (Baby, Mama and Papa) were the best crowd support EVER. Guys dancing in cutoff jeans, wearing superman costumes, singing songs. It was a party. I loved that part and getting back into town was a thrill.

The second loop was very similar to the first, except I got a flat (!!) at mile 80. It totally killed my mood. I was hungry and jittery and now I had a flat. Nothing was going right. I couldn't get the wheel off the bike, then I couldn't get the tire off the wheel, then the tube was physically stuck TO the tire...But strangely, I now believe the flat tire saved my whole race. Here's why: during that time, I had a moment to catch my breath. The whole thing couldn't have taken more than 10 minutes, though it felt like an eternity. But I had a bite of my PB sandwich. And then a gel. And some water. And another bite of sandwich. And when I got back on the bike, my appetite was back! I could eat again! I felt better. So, thank you tire gods. You got me back on track with a flat. It stunk, but it also saved me.

The climb back into Wilmington was even harder the second time. I played tag with another girl in a full on awesome cycling outfit, complete with alien-style helmet. But she kept standing up on the hills, and I thought, that's not gonna be feeling good on the marathon. I stayed seated and let her pass me.

Coming back into town from the second loop was again a thrill and a relief. The crowds on the Bear Hills were gone (so sad! They were much much harder without the crazies running next to you screaming and cheering). But coming around the corner, seeing Mirror Lake through the trees and the surprise of seeing my family along the sidelines totally pepped me up. I began thinking about the run, how happy I would be to be RUNNING. My sport. Everyone was cheering as I made my way to the dismount. What a super crazy 112 mile ride, but I truly loved it.

Ride. More. Hills. :-P And also maybe focus more on speed/interval workouts. I feel like the majority of my bike workouts were just based on distance and not specifically geared towards interval training. Probably would have helped.

And try to stick to my nutrition plan, though that still feels like it was beyond my control--maybe "plan a race around my monthly visitor" is a better strategy? Ugh.

Loved the volunteers (again!)--they grabbed my bike from me and directed me to the tent. I considered removing my bike shoes so I could run faster, but decided I'd rather do that sitting down, as I was still feeling a slight bit loopy from the nutrition fail. So I squished my way in my bike shoes as fast as I could go (ha) to the tent, and already feeling the major "oh yes, I'm running on post-bike legs" rubber effect. Nice.

Grabbed my bag, sat down and a volunteer was there to help me. I told her I'd only need help getting my stuff back in the bag. It was actually sort of difficult to have to communicate with anyone, but I didn't want to be rude. So I let her unpack my stuff and lay it before me. I took out my sister's letter, which turned out to be a novel (like seriously, an entire page of writing--lol!). I decided I couldn't read the whole thing right then. I just wanted to go finish up my Ironman. Not sure what overcame me. I read her greeting [Meme! You rock! Keep going!] (and teared up) the first three sentences and then decided to take her advice to "keep going." Besides, I wanted to go for a run. So I changed my clothes, put on my socks, shoes, running hat, grabbed my trusty water bottle and nutrition belt and I was out the door.

Ask Hannah to write me a NOTE. Not a letter. A NOTE. Otherwise, nothing. :)

So, the run went great. It just felt amazing to be running. I felt happy. Tired and happy. At the Run Special Needs bags, I did as I'd planned, stopped and asked for my stuff. The volunteer had it for me in seconds (damn, they're good!). He stood there while I went through everything. Like, he just stood there. I dawdled because I wanted him to leave me alone while I got my stuff together. But he just held the bag open for me. I pulled out Dan's note and he kept just standing there. "Um, you don't have to hold the bag, it's cool," I said to him.

"No, I'll wait for you until you get what you need," he assured me.

"OK. But my boyfriend wrote me this note, and I'm gonna read it now and then I'm gonna cry," I explained, sort of embarrassed. He didn't seem the least bit phased. "Take your time," he said. Great. So now I'm going to bawl in front of a perfect stranger. God, I'm weird.

So, here's Dan's note, and yes, I wept.

"Dearest Mirjam,

You might be feeling really great right now or you might be hurting. But I know from watching you train for this race that you are going to give it everything and emerge *victorious.* Your extreme dedication and hard work are visible to me every day, and this day is no different. Thank you for inspiring me to reach for my dreams. I love you, IRONJAM! Smoetjes, Dan"

I took a GU gel and began running again. I distracted myself by looking for my friends. I saw Kelley first, who looked ridiculously fresh and bouncy to be doing the marathon portion of an Ironman. We paused in our running to hug. She was going back to start her second loop, while I had just started my first. I was so inspired by her. She went on to finish in 12:47. Just awesome. Then I saw Sara and told her about my flat. She looked like she was having a tough run, sort of out of it. She later told me she was in a daze at that point. Then I saw Bob who was looking like he was working, but STILL SMILING. Seeing these people out on the course reminded me again how awesome BT is and what a weird, dysfunctional, addicted-to-this-sport-but-it's-ok-we-understand-we're-addicts-too, supportive adopted family it's become for me.

My strategy for the run was to RUN. Run everything. Don't walk. Try to keep moving. I think I grabbed something at most aid stations, and only walked a few feet so I could swallow some Gatorade or water (still have not mastered the bouncing up and down while drinking from a cup technique--it always goes up my nose). I kept pushing and pushing--for some reason, pushing on the run has always been easier for me than any of the other sports. It becomes mechanical, one foot in front of the other, constant forward motion. But I was hurting. And at the turn around, heading back towards town, my ITB began screaming.

I kept telling myself, one more time. You just have to do this one more time. I distracted myself by looking for my friends, and even singing along with the crazy people who were partying along to some very loud Lady Gaga songs (so great!). They ate it up and cheered louder when I waved my arms and danced while I ran. My legs were killing me, but the adrenaline helped. I came into Lake Placid (brutal, brutal hill--which I *ran* up! I was damned if I was gonna walk), and saw my family waving their signs, still waiting for me, I had to pause to give them all hugs and kisses. Running in town was easy--the crowds were great and pumped me up. Once away from the noise, though, it got hard again.

I realized as I left town that I might have to start taking some real walking breaks. The run to the turn around felt like an eternity. I asked at every aid station if anyone had Tylenol. It was getting more and more painful to bend my knees with each step. But no luck. So I grabbed handfuls of pretzels and sips of water and kept going. Walked the aid stations and ran everything in between.

And then, at last, there was the turn around. I almost cried with relief. And right then, right before I ran across the mat, I suddenly decided I was done futzing around. I was getting hungry for a real meal (pizza!) and I just wanted to be done and be hanging out with my family already. So, I turned around, told the volunteers sitting at the mat "No offense and thank you for volunteering, but I'm SO glad this is the last time I'll see you guys!" (they laughed) and I just picked up the pace. Running faster did not hurt less than running slower, so I figured I might as well. Picked up my feet and picked up my pace. I was going to finish this thing.

As I ran along the river, I passed some guy who pulled up along side me and asked if he could pace me for a little while. He said he'd been having stomach problems since the bike and he said when he saw I was going at a solid pace, he wanted to just see if he could hang on. I said, "Absolutely" though I didn't feel like chitchatting much. Turned out that it was a good distraction. He hung on for about two miles and then he had to walk again. I kept going.

A dude dressed in full on Elvis gear was running towards me as I made the turn back onto Cascade and over the bridge. I yelled, "Looking good, Elvis!" and he yelled back in a near perfect impression, "Thank ya verrymuch. Elvis loves ya, beh-beh." Then, some vindication as I passed the girl who had passed me all those times on the bike, the one with the bike kit + aero helmet: she was walking.

I climbed (ran!) that last brutal hill into town, starting to feel emotional again. Now the crowds were screaming at me to keep going and I felt like they were all yelling at just ME. This was the home stretch. I saw my parents along the road as I ran away from the finish line for the LAST time, who said my sister, brother in law and bf were all at the finish line waiting for me and that they would see me there. I don't remember what I said. I think I had just enough in me to say, "Great!" Then I shut out everything else and kept going, still trying to run hard the last bit. I got to the last turn around and said to myself, "Every step you take now is one step closer to the finish line."

I stopped briefly at the special needs bags, not to take anything from the bags, but for one ten second walking break. I felt this weird need to just stop for 10 seconds. I have no idea why. The volunteers were yelling, "Don't stop now!" I nodded and mumbled, "Just for a few seconds." I pulled my hair out of my face, took a deep breath and went for it.

When the folks at the signs directed me into the oval, I began crying again. And laughing. I wanted to hug the volunteers. I felt delirious and powerful. I decided to sprint through the oval. I felt so great. I heard Michael yell my name, and glanced to the left in time to see him and my sister screaming at me along the side lines. I didn't see Dan, though he was standing right next to them with the flipcam. The last thing I remember on the course is hearing them say "Mar-jam Lob-ins from New York City"...lol. I'd written the proper pronunciation next to my name, but oh well. I crossed the finish line grinning, and more or less collapsed into a volunteers arms. I was in a daze. I hurt so badly, but I was so proud of myself. I didn't come anywhere near my goal (sub-14), but I couldn't care less.

Nothing. This was a super great run. (OK, maybe roll out my ITB a little bit more). I think the bike is what limited any performance on the run, so a stronger bike might have meant a better run.

I hobbled over to my family who helped me sit down (I know, but I could barely stand). I tried to stretch a little and walk a little, but it definitely hurt (amazingly, the next morning, I felt fine again). We got some pizza at the local pizza parlor, chowed down and then headed back to the finish line to watch the end of the race. Nothing as dramatic as last year, but still amazing to watch all these people finish. I think the family enjoyed it, too.


This being my first Ironman, I was over the moon. For any future races, I will consider a different training strategy with more interval and speed workouts before going for distance and endurance. However, for my first race, not knowing really what to expect, I was prepared as I could be and totally satisfied with my performance.


I loved this race. Great first Ironman. A tough but fair course. Practice riding hills. It's not easy. Beautiful, stunning and pristine race course. My family had a great time cheering on everyone. The goodie bag leaves plenty to be desired, especially considering the price tag. Otherwise, I recommend volunteering in the transition area before you do the race, because it's a great way to learn about how the race works and what people do.

Awesome race, I loved it.