BOOOM!!! the cannon sounded and we were off!! The start of my first Ironman. At Quassy Rev3 (a month prior) I purosefully seeded myself in the middle of the wave to help prepare for this. Miraculously I had clean water, only got swam over once, and before I knew it I was at the first turn bouy. It was a little bit of a mosh pit, but it wasn't too too bad. Much of the swim I kept my form really tight and just used my arms to help block any stray hands or elbows.

On the way back in I got in a groove and all of a sudden the swim seemed very peaceful. That's when I looked up and saw the shoreline about 40 yards away!! A girl in an orange kayaked pointed back toward the field of swimmers and I shook my head any made my way back onto the swim course. As I passed the woman in the kayak I said, "Only I could swim off course on the easiest Ironman swim!".

I came out of the first lap and my watch read 35 minutes and change. I was psyched! Knowing all the people tracking me really motivated me to get over that timing mat and back into the water.

On the second lap something magical happened: I tried to swim wide to stay out of the melee, but somehow I found myself right on top of the cable!! The golden magic cable!! All the way to the next turn bouy the magic cable pulled me along and I was in a perfect line and draft of swimmers. I was in a Zen-like trance focused on my form, breathing and the cable did the rest.

My little 'Zen moment' ended abruptly at the turn bouy when I caught an elbow to my right eye, and my goggle was flat against my eye socket! The final stretch back to shore my left shoulder started hurting badly. It was my ac joint which I separated at an Xterra event back in August of 2008. Before LP 2012 I need to address this with some specific strength training.



Nuttin. I couldn't have had a better first-time Ironman swim.

When I came out of the swim the wetsuit strippers had a tough time getting my suit off my legs and arms. That is one of my complaints about my TYR Cat5 suit.

My left hamstring also started cramping when I was running down the block to the transition tents. My first instinct was to panic! Just 2.4 miles into a 140.6 mile race and my leg is already cramping!! But instead of panicking, I just ran easy - relaxed the leg and let everyone run past me. My dad yelled to me halfway down the street and that gave me a big boost!

Once inside the transition tent one of my worst fears was realized. Aside from ego, the biggest reason I want a fast swim is so I can have a better quality race, meaning: I can enter an empty transition tent and have a smooth transition. Apparently A LOT of men finished around the same time as me and the tent was PACKED NAKED DUDE CHAOS!! But lo and behold who was standing right next to me - my neighbor, friend and tri teammate Sean!! He was a volunteer in the Men's transition tent!! Schweeet! He took care of me right away. And it was a good thing, cause in all the Ironman races I've watched on Universal Sports, the Pro's always rip open their transition bags. Apparently us age groupers are not supposed to do this. We are supposed to neatly un-tie the knot, dump out the contents, and then put our wetsuit, cap and goggles back in the same bag. Luckily, Sean grabbed me a new bag and wrote my name on it for me. Thanks Sean. :)

As mentioned, T1 was packed and frantic and I grabbed my own bike. No biggie.

I pride myself on a fast transition, but this was not terribly fast. Need to think about how I can speed this up for next year.

Luckily, my entire Bike ride was pretty uneventful. For the entire day the only technology I used was a $14.00 Timex watch to track my overall time. With the combined Swim and T1 time, I got into the saddle around 1:20 minutes.

Everything I read said go slow the first few miles.

And so I did.

Fred wrote how many people blew up later on the bike as a result of not respecting the climb up to Keene. Charlie (thelunchbox) mentioned this climb to me and had me repeating the mantra 'I have to Run a Marathon after this' from mile 1 to 112, and my other friends and training partners Derrick (sevenride) and Rick also specifically told me to take the 7-mile climb to the Keene descent easy.

I listened to them all.

After River Road, I put my 12-27 cassette into the easiest gear and just spun up the climbs while chowing down on a banana power bar. The course was really crowded and I made lots of humorous small talk to lighten the mood and pass the time. The early morning scenery of mountains helped a great deal as well. It was so damn picturesque out there.

On my first trip down the Keene descent I was absolutely terrified. It was windy and my Jet 60's were getting blown around. I braked for 75% of the descent. Dozens of riders zoooomed past me, and I was fine with that.

Once we made the left onto Route 9 I settled into my aero bars and found a nice rythym. I always kept her in one gear easier than I would normally in training, and just spun at a high cadence. LOTS of people passed me. However, I was sticking to my plan and I knew it was a long day. I was listening closely to my 'internal power meter' and was intent on not burning any matches this early on. Out on the first out and back I marveled repeatedly at how beautiful the course was. I'd never seen this part of the course before.

I paid careful attention to my nutrition and fluid intake. Oh, and I saw two huge, blatant Pelotons on this out & back. One even had a rider with a bright yellow jersey in the middle and I joked with another rider how that was the leader of the Tour de Placid! :)

Some ladies black labrador around mile 35 ran out right in front of me, that was interesting!! But long story short, I coasted all the downhills, spun in the easiest gear all the uphills, and kept an EZ high cadence on all the flats. By implementing the advice of those who have expereince on this course, I reaped the rewards on the second loop. From miles 56 to 100 I passed a steady stream of fading riders. This gave me energy and confidence. At Mile 100 I did start burning a few matches here and there on the final climb back to town, but I was still well within myself.

As for nutrition, as soon as I got on the bike I drank a bottle of gatorade, then shortly after a full 16oz of water (w/ carbopro). I then took two bottles of perform and a bottle of water and another bottle of perform - for the 1st loop. On the second loop I took two bottles of perform and two bottles of water and then a final bottle of perform. So total for the 112 miles I had A LOT of fluids and I did not pee once, and when I finally peed at Transition 2 my urine was a DARK YELLOW. So yeah, four bottles of water and seven bottles of electrolyte sport drink, plus 4 power bars, three gels (all with electrolytes) and I was still (according to my lack of pee and color of it) slightly dehydrated.

Along the whole bike course all the volunteers and spectators were super-duper awesome. All my water and perform hand-offs were perfect. THANK YOU VOLUNTEERS!!!

I lived off the course and it kept the weight down on the bike.

I used my internal power meter, and the Bike ride felt EZ until mile 100.

I've tried for a long time to model much of what JohnnyKay does in races. From the get-go, when I joined this site almost 4 years ago, I noticed despite the difficulty level of a Bike Course, John is always able to 'even split' loops on the bike. I think this is important to make sure you are pacing properly, and will likely set you up for a good run. Because cycling is my weakest discipline, this has always been a challenge for me, so when I saw my first loop was 3 hours 1 min, and my second loop was 3 hours and 4 minutes, I was beyond ecstatic!!

For all the hype of this being a challenging course, I felt the climb to Keene was the most difficult. The Cherry's are more like mild rollers, and the Bears in the easiest gear with a 12-27 cassette were pretty EZ the first time around, and only slightly more difficult the second time. Perhaps after climbing up Bear Mountain in training, riding the Harriman (Harryman) course a bunch, and racing Rev3 Quassy twice, this course (with all due respect) is not especially hilly. It's moderately hilly at best compared to other courses. There are three distinct parts of this course that have climbs, other than that this is a flat course with plenty of downhills and some mild rollers.

In 70.3's, sprint and olympic distance races I've always been good at slipping my feet out of my shoes and doing a flying dismount. Today I stopped slowly and just unclipped and ran along in my bike shoes. I guess I was playing it safe.

As I ran to the T2 tent my back was super-tight. The tent was reasonably empty and my transition volunteer was super awesome, separating my nutrition, socks and shoes. I vaselined my toes, got my hat on, another volunteer sunscreen'd me up and I was off and ready to Rock a Marathon!!!

Next Ironman I am jumping out of my shoes.

As soon as I came out of the transition tent, BAM!! there was my parents, wife and kids. How thrilled was I!! The crowds were screaming and cheering. I stopped and gave them all a big hug and kiss and I was on my way. Within a few hundred yards my back loosened up, my legs were swinging with ease, and I was on my way feeling good.

(I'm on the far right)

On the downhills I just held my form tight and breathed through my nose only to ensure I was going easy. I saw Tara Costa at the Mile 1 aid station handing out drinks, which was pretty cool. Even better, I saw my good buddy and training partner Rick screaming my name!! "Go Bobby!!" as he ran alongside me asking me if I needed anything and encouraging me every step. Thanks Rick. :)

Just a few miles up the road I met Jon (wstchstrTriathlete). We ran together past the horsegrounds and then I ran ahead. I told him "If you see me walking, slap me in the back of the head!" :)

I took in perform and water at all the aid stations, dumped ice in my hat, and did not stop running once. My legs felt great, my shoulders were a little sore, but for the most part it felt just like any of my long training runs.

A few runners passed me, but for the most part I was passing dozens of runners and I was using very little effort. Then at the mile 6 aid station I decided I wanted to start using coke. From before the start of the race, I had 4 caffeine gels. I used one before the swim, two on the bike and I only had 1 left for the run. I use caffeine when training and racing, and it works very well for me. I DID NOT FORSEE blowing through so many of them today!! With only 1 caffeine gel left, I decided caffeine from coke was the next best thing. Up until this point I was running around an 8:00 flat pace. I knew that once I started on the coke, I would have to keep it up. And so I did. A few miles back - around mile 4 - I had a side stich in my lower right side. Before the mile 6 aid station it went away. After I started the coke it came back and brought a party of friends with it. :(

I was still going strong on the run back into town. The legs were fine, my head was still clear, even my stomach felt 100%; but beneath my belly button to the right and left was EXPLODING. I saw my family camped out in front of the bowling alley cheering me up the climb. THE EYE OF THE TIGER was blasting. I was in battle mode! It felt like a movie!! The spectators were also awesome and encouraging.

Along the Mirror Lake drive I saw my buddy and training partner Dan. I had all the support and motivation in the world to keep running but for the first time during the Marathon I stopped running and walked up to the mile 12 aid station. DAMMMIT!! I knew these dark patches would eventually come and I just needed to stay positive and get through it. I asked a volunteer for vaseline to put on a blister that was forming under my left big toe. A blister that I got as a souvenir /memento from Rev3 Quassy two months prior. I took a minute to down some more fluids and reset. I started running again but my lower gut made me feel miserable. I made it to the turn-around mat (driven by the idea that lots of people were following me on Ironmanlive tracker) but as soon as I crossed the mat I succumbed to the pain and walked. I sauntered all the way back down past the mile 12 aid station and special needs area. A medic approached me and asked me if I was okay. I smiled "Yes", and began running. I ran back down into town. I ran past the family, passed my buddy Rick at the bottom of the hill, past my friend and neighbor Sean from T1 transition tent, and then where I'd met Jon on the first loop I found myself walking -again.

I burped, farted, and walked for the next hour. I was no longer taking in coke. There were no more cheering crowds. It was a long trek into no-mans land. There was lots of carnage on the course at this point. I saw two people throwing up. A man pulled off the course lying on his back because his legs had seized. I made some small talk with other athletes. I kept a close eye on my watch and tried to run every 5 minutes or so, but the demons in my gut were torturing me. It sucked cause my quads, calves, heart and head said yes; but the gut said Uh Uh.

Eventually I made it to the Mile 20 sign and my Timex was reading somewhere around 10:55, I think. I had just over an hour to run a 10k. I battled to start running the next 2 miles, but the road back out of River Rd was never-ending. The clock stuck 11 hours and 10 minutes and I was getting desperate to run. Myself and two other athletes commented on how it sounded so simple to run the next 5.5 miles in under 50 minutes to make it in under 12 hours. We tried to push each other and all three of us started running, but we didn't make it further than 50 yards. I started entertaining the fact that perhaps sub 12:00 was not going to happen today. But then I thought about my family waiting for me. I thought about all my friends tracking me. I thought about everything I'd ever said to my Mentor Group and everything they ever said to me. With these positive thoughts I managed to Run a 1/2 mile on the open road below the ski jumps. River Road was finally coming to an end. And just then, I remembered my last caffeine gel! I popped it in my mouth. And I ran. I ran past the last aid station on River Road. Made the hard right, crossed the rusty bridge, and started clawing up the steep climb. EVERYONE WAS WALKING, and me, I was shuffling slightly faster. :) But I didn't stop. The pains poked and stabbed my abdomen and I just blocked them out. I needed to salvage something positive at the end here. I couldn't let it end like this.

I needed to HTFU and GET R DONE DAMMIT!!! Pain is Temporary... Glory is Forever!!

As I slowly made my way up the climb the crowds grew. Everyone could see my determination and they screamed "Go Robert!!" When I hit the flat ground at the horse grounds I'd gotten my 8:00 min rythym back. I was picking off runners left and right, the pain grew but so did my desire to Finish strong. I saw Mike on his way out for his final loop and he really looked great! I approached the next aid station at the foot of the steepest climb up into town. A dozen people stopped to fuel but I stayed far left and blew past them. I knew it was a risk. It was the same risk I took at the Steamtown Marathon last October when I skipped the final aid station and ran a Boston Qualifying time with only :27 seconds to spare. If I'd stopped at the aid station, I may have missed a BQ. I wouldn't dare attempt this in the beginning or middle of the Run, but it was nearing the end and I was running on pure Heart and Will.

As I went wide past the aid station and prepared for the pain of the final climb by buddy and savior Rick came alongside me. He screamed at the top of his lungs, "Go Bobby!! I love you man! Go get that sub 12. Run the f*cking hill and don't stop!" Man did I need that. What an emotional boost Rick gave me. A boost that pushed me up the entire climb back to Mirror Lake. What a great friend.

At this point I recalled some of the final miles of marathons I'd run in the past. I thought about an excerpt from LazyMarathoner's Ironman Wisconsin RR:



It's these final miles which is why I do these endurance events. It's when I'm sprinting through those halls of horror and evil screeches from deep within my soul; and queit all the those negative demons with the simple idea that: I Can Do This.

It wasn't until the final downhill right before the oval that I finally looked at my watch for the first time in 4 miles. And my $14.00 Timex happily read 11:57. Wow, I was going to make it afterall. I sprinted past the transition tents and had the entire oval to myself.

Four years of swimming, biking and running; seven half-Ironmans and over a dozen sprint and olympic races; 24 months since I signed up for this event and finally... finally Mike Reilly yelled those magical words:

Robert MacDowell, You Are An Ironman!!!     
  

Next year I am laying off the bubbly coke and getting my caffeine solely from my gels.

Hugged the wife and kids. Marveled in the fact that I was so close to executing the perfect race on just my first attempt. But really, it was the perfect race thanks to all my family, friends and volunteers, and the fact that I made it to the start line healthy. Everything else, including finishing, was gravy.


Ironman Lake Placid is Magical. The scenery, the town, the locals, the volunteers. The course is also very manageable with consistent training. I'm very happy to have IMUSA be my first Ironman and I will be returning next year, and likely many years to come. I do hope they don't increase the field size anymore though.