Ironman Lake Placid - Triathlon

The Swim:
Had you told me two years ago that I’d be looking forward to the 2.4 mile swim of an Ironman race, I’d have laughed hard. While I’ve always been comfortable in the water, and was even certified as a lifeguard for the summer following my undergrad degree, I’ve always been a hack. I never swam for fitness, and never paid any attention to technique or form. In October, 2011, I decided to learn how to swim with the intent of competing in triathlons. The first time I got into the water, I was winded after 25 yards. It took me about 8 weeks before things finally started clicking. 20 months later, I was standing at the start line of an Ironman race. And I was looking forward to it.

The race course at IMLP is a long rectangular loop that is completed twice … 1.2 miles for each loop linked by a short run across the beach. This year, the race switched from a mass start to a long rolling start that required the athletes to place themselves in line according to their projected time. Given what my training had informed, I predicted that I could swim in the 1:12:00 to 1:15:00 range without burning up my heart rate. That should feel like a nice smooth and easy swim. I placed myself in line accordingly.

It took me about 7 minutes to get into the water once the amateurs began. Because we weren’t 2,800 athletes all starting at the same time, I pretty much had my own water space from the start. I jostled for position a few times with other swimmers, but was able to keep a pretty continuous and easy pace going. If things got a little rough or crowded, I just moved to the side a bit, collected myself, and found another stretch of open water. On the return stretch of the first lap, I did take a heel to the chin. It was hard enough to have me worried that I may be bleeding from the lip, but all turned out just fine. The person who certified me as a lifeguard spent considerable time teaching us how to stay calm and collected in the water. The lessons came back with the kick to the face, and I was back on track without any trouble at all. At the end of the first lap, I stepped onto the beach and walked slowly to the re-entry point, just drinking in the roar of the crowd. I saw 35:xx on my watch and knew that was probably a bit fast, so I committed to slowing things down even further for the second lap.

For the entire swim, I was breathing every 4 strokes. For me, this indicates that I’m calm and smooth and I certainly felt as such. I switched to every 2 strokes a few times, but that was usually only due to a missed breath due to somebody’s hand splash or a wave in the face. On the return leg of the second lap, I found myself right on top of the underwater cable that holds the course buoys. If you can follow this cable, you’re assured that you’re swimming the most direct path. So I camped out on the cable and was following another swimmer’s feet. It felt incredibly easy, so I assumed I was catching a nice draft. As it turns out, the swimmer was just going a bit slow, as I finished the second lap in 38:xx. A bit slower than I would have planned, but I came out of the water feeling very relaxed.

Lap 1: 35:49
Lap 2: 38: 12
Total: 1:14:01

Right where I wanted to be. Ironman assigns volunteers to the position of “wet suit stripper”. I peeled my suit down to my waist, laid on the ground in front of two strippers, and they had my wet suit whipped off in a couple of seconds. I rolled it up, tucked it under my arm like a Heisman contender, and jogged up to the transition area (about a quarter of a mile through screaming crowds).

Nothing. I feel I executed the swim very well.

Transition 1:
I planned to take the transitions nice and easy … allowing my heart rate to drop as I methodically worked my plan.

I grabbed my bike bag, found a seat in the changing tent, and pulled my one-piece tri-suit down to my waist. I strapped on my heart rate monitor, and applied a liberal glob of chamois cream to the cycling pad between my legs. Another athlete asked for some chamois cream and I shared with a smile (he squeezed his own glob out from the tube). Towel off the feet, socks, cycling shoes, gloves, helmet, glasses … boom. Wet suit in the bag. I took 4 tums (sometimes, swimming gets me a little gassy), ate a Pop Tart as I ran out of the tent, and made my way down the transition area surrounding the bike racks. A volunteer called out my number, and my bike was waiting for me at the end of the rack. Boom. Like butter.

I’m required to walk my bike to the mount line before clipping in and taking off. At this point, Marianne has been joined by the Weavers and I told her to expect me at the mount line between 8:00am and 8:05am. My wife took my picture at the mount line at 8:04am.

If it weren't an iron distance, I'd be going for speed and efficiency here. If I were competing for a Kona spot, I'd do the same thing. This was my first iron distance race and neither of those were factors, so I planned to take it easy, let my heart rate settle, and just work through it methodically.

The Bike:
I love riding. But this course intimidates me. I think that’s more often the case than not. I’m heavier than your average triathlete at 195, and my biking power has not yet arrived to where I’d like it to be. Given the hills of this course, that’s more weight to carry up with less than ideal power numbers. The good thing is that I’m at peace with it and I’ve ridden the course twice before, so I know to expect a lot of people passing me on the bike. I also have a pretty good sense of what I can expect from my ride if I keep the pace and the heart rate within the realistic ranges. I had predicted a bike split to be in the 6:45:00 – 7:00:00 range. I had also read that the average athlete will spend 20 minutes more on the second loop of the course than on the first loop of the course. I vowed not to be that inconsistent. So I just let them pass me.

I divide the course into three parts:
1. The climb up and out of Lake Placid followed by a screaming descent into Keene.
2. The long out/back to Jay and Ausable Forks (mostly flat with mild rollers).
3. The long grind of a climb back up to Willmington and then more climbing into Lake Placid.
4. Repeat.

I came out of the water with an overall rank of 877. I came off the bike with an overall rank of 1491

This means that 614 athletes passed me on the bike. Most of this happened on the first loop. I played leap frog with a few of them … they’d pass me on the climbs and I’d bomb past them on the descents.

The descent into Keene is a white-knuckle ride. Thankfully, I’m comfortable on descents and can hold my line well even at speeds in excess of 40mph. I haven’t looked at the data from my Garmin yet, but I’ll estimate that I peaked at 45mph. We had rain on the road for the first loop, so I was feathering the brakes. I’m comfortable keeping an eye on the traffic around me as I choose my line and can calm my bike down if it starts to shimmy. I was surprised by a guy, however, who was coming up behind me on the end of the descent. I knew he was there and that he was gaining on me as I made a pass, so I left him plenty of room. Nonetheless, he felt the need to scream, very franticly, “ON YOUR LEFT, ON YOUR LEFT”. He scared the heck out of me. As he passed, I turned to him and said “calm down, buddy … relax”. He gave me an apologetic wave and we made the left hand turn onto the flats.

This is the part of the course where you get into as aerodynamic position as you can hold and you just do your work. I was surprised and disappointed by the blatant drafting I saw happening on multiple occasions. At one point, I heard two guys having a full-on discussion coming up behind me. When they passed, they were wearing identical kits and were very clearly trading off pulling duties … never more than a few inches off of one another’s wheel. I asked them how the peloton was working out for them, but they didn’t offer an answer.

On the return from the flat out/back section, we moved into a slight headwind. At this point, I saw a very slight rider clearly tucked in behind a larger rider who was taking on all of the wind. Again, I asked this guy how the drafting was working out. Again, he offered no response. Drafting is clearly cheating. I don’t want to get too self-righteous, but it’s frustrating to see.

The course takes a turn and immediately begins the climb to Wilmington and, then, climbs again back to Lake Placid. For me, that means more easy spinning, letting them pass, and saving the heart rate. At the top of the final climb, Marianne and The Weavers were jamming to tunes and waiting for my arrival. They were a great cheering section … camped out exactly where I asked them to be at each point of the course. Thumbs up.

I do need to explore my pre-race nutrition. I had two Pop Tarts and 400 calories of Ensure with protein. I think the Ensure left me pretty gassy, and I was dealing with it for the entire first loop. When I stopped for my special needs bag at the half-way mark, I took 4 Tums and that had me cleared up pretty quickly.

Overall, I was VERY pleased with my execution of the bike. The timing mats are set up to record 4 splits. Splits 1 and 3 represent the initial climb out of Lake Placid, the descent into Keene, and the flat out/back. Splits 2 and 4 represent the long climb up to Wilmington and lake placid.

My splits:
Mile 1-30 (split 1): 1:34:44
Mile 31-56 (split 2): 1:54:44
Mile 57-86 (split 3): 1:38:37
Mile 87-112 (split 4): 1:54:48

Total: 7:02:53

If you look at those splits, I only gave back 3 minutes and 57 seconds for the second loop. My climb up to Wilmington/Lake Placid was only 4 seconds slower on the second loop than it was on the first. On the flats of the second loop, I was feeling a bit drained and I switched from Perpetuem (liquid carbs) to Espresso Hammer Gel (with 50mg of caffeine). I learned that Espresso Hammer Gel is a very nice pick-me-up on the ride. On the ride, I took in 1200 calories of Perpetuem, and 500 calories of Hammer Gel (plus 200 calories from the Pop Tart in transition 1). I also took in 5 S-Caps over the 7 hours of the ride. I drank approximately 5 liters of water in addition to that used with the Perpetuem. I started feeling salt accumulate on my face, so I knew I needed to start finding electrolyte balance.

Anyway, I’m very pleased with my consistency on the ride. I felt within my plan the entire time and was only 2:53 beyond the far end of my predicted time. That being said, I can stand to train for more power on the bike. This is where I’ll find the most gain prior to my next Ironman attempt. Gaining more power and losing what I still have left to lose of the paunch I carry around the mid-section should translate pretty well to time savings on the bike.

I think I messed up my electrolytes here. I need to do a better job of staying balanced with hydration on the ride to set up my ability to run to my full potential.

Bike was taken for me. I took the time to lube my feet with Vaseline and change my socks. Elastic laces ended up being too tight on my feet which were swollen a bit from the ride.

I took off my cycling shoes and was struck at how cramped my feet felt. I took off my socks, applied Vaseline to both feet, changed into my run socks and slipped on my run shoes (Mizuno Precision). The shoes are set up with elasticized laces, so I didn’t need to tie or worry about them coming untied. I stood at the urinal and finally peed … it was darker than it should be, but not alarmingly so. Nonetheless, I got an indication that my hydration/electrolytes might be a bit off.

Running cap on, sunglasses off, running bib attached … I’m ready to go.

The Run:
I left the transition tent and, with the exception of my feet, felt ready to run. The run course is also a two-lap repeat of the same loop. The first 2.5 miles are a significant downhill. Then a long out/back section that is flat with slight rollers. Then a climb up those same 2.5 miles that began the course. Another short out/back that is a slight climb on the way out and a descend on the way back (but not as extreme as those 2.5 miles). That brings you to 13.1 … so you do it again.

I run by heart rate. I know what my allowances are that will set me up for a strong finish. My goal was to keep my rate below 140 for the first lap, allow it to creep into the 145 range for the descend of the second loop, and then grind it out into the 150s, using whatever I had left for the climb back into town where I’d use the crowds to get me through the final 3.

But this was the biggest question mark of my race plan. I felt I should be able to hold a 9:00/mile pace for the first loop without using up too much of my heart rate allowance. The good news was that a 9:00 pace was coming very easily … even into the 8:45 range on the downhill section. My legs were there. The bad news is that my heart rate was not coming down below 145, even on the downhills. On a hilly 20 mile training run, I can bump my max allowable heart rate by 5 beats per minute every 5 miles, starting below 130 and finishing in the 150 range. Here, on my first two miles, I was approaching 150. I had no choice but to back off. Every time my rate would creep into the 145 range, I’d back way off and let it settle back into the 130s. This was mostly accomplished by walking through the water stops and the inclines and then resuming my pace as my heart rate would allow. Every time I started running, I would easily fall into a 9:00 pace, but the walking breaks slowed my overall pace.

I had my cheering posse at spots throughout the loop. Marianne and the Weavers as I left transition. A mile later was Team Feldman. Then, on the return, it was Team Feldman followed by Marianne and the Weavers … easily identified by glorious cheers every time. They were perfect.

Thankfully, I loosened my elastic laces and my feet stopped screaming, but the heart rate issues was another clear indication that my electrolytes were off. I tried another Espresso gel, but my stomach was having none of that. I was immediately queasy. So I switched to various dilutions of Coke in my handheld water bottle that I carried for the entire run. Sometimes heavy on the Coke, sometimes heaving on the water/ice. That was working for getting some sugar in me … and was much more palatable, but wasn’t doing anything to restore electrolyte balance. I tried pretzels, but the queasiness returned. Solids just weren’t happening. I managed to choke down a small bag of potato chips without puking, but felt close at times (I saw others who weren’t as able to keep things down).

I plodded through the first lap and managed to pick it up a bit for the descend of the second lap. And then it happened. They brought out the chicken broth. I had heard about the chicken broth at any given Ironman race, but I just wasn’t ever certain that it would be something I’d want. Like the Espresso gels of the second lap of the bike course, chicken broth was soon realized as absolute nectar of the running gods. I felt like a switch was flipped. Don’t get me wrong … I didn’t suddenly start pumping out 8:00 miles … but I felt so much better. I was holding the 9:00 pace for longer periods of time, and I was passing people at a pretty consistent rate. Soon, the people I had been leap-frogging along the course with were being left behind. Partly because I was holding a consistent pace and partly because they were continuing to fade. I didn’t necessarily gain pace, but I stopped losing it. I passed 260 people on the run. I haven’t looked at the Garmin data, but I may have had a very slight negative split for the run.

I’m open for additional interpretation, but I think my run was impacted mostly by nutrition issues and not necessarily by over-cooking the swim/bike. I say this because my legs gave me what I wanted whenever I found the heart-rate allowance. I would immediately be running 8:45-9:00 miles without leg fatigue. I only needed the heart rate to keep it going. This, to me, is explained by hydration/electrolyte imbalance, but I’ll need to read a bit more on other possible explanations.

I plodded on … walking up the hills back into town and then rallying for some nice pace on my return down Mirror Lake Drive.

I’ve had some outstanding finishes to races. I can point out to you the very spot of the Vermont City Marathon course where I realized I had a Boston Qualifier for the first time. That was a great run to finish the race. In November, I ran my first negative split marathon in Philadelphia. I felt like I was flying for the final 4 miles of that course.

But when you take a U-turn for the final time on Mirror Lake Drive and you realize you’ve got a mile left before you enter the Olympic Oval for the finish of your first Ironman … in Lake Placid, where one of the most memorable sporting miracles occurred ….

I’m not sure I’ve had a comparable moment in my endurance racing. It was magical. Instead of turning left to repeat the course, I turned right and stepped onto the oval. The crowds were 3-4 people thick on either side of the finish chute and you can hear Mike Reilly, The Voice of Ironman, calling people to the line. It’s about a 200m run around half the oval when you see the finish arch. And, sure enough, he calls your name too.

You. Are. An. IRONMAN!


I honestly think I had the legs for a sub 4. This is supported by the even pace I held on the bike.

I need to figure out my electrolyte usage to keep my heart rate in check.

I felt, overall, fine coming through the chute. I sat down for a few minutes and took in 3 chocolate milks. They were ice cold and perfect. After about 10 minutes, I found my wife and my support crew. Grabbed my gear bags and my bike, and headed for the showers. I returned to watch the close of the race until midnight.


Hydration/electrolyte balance.


To take Ironman Lake Placid as your first Ironman is pretty amazing. It's a tough course, but an absolutely gorgeous venue.