SNAP! That was the sound of one of my goggle straps breaking just before the National Anthem. Everything leading up to that moment had been mostly going as planned. Although it took a while, I was able to finally find the entrance into the chute leading into the water. I even ran into one of my friends for a pep talk upon entry into the lake. But as I was swimming over to seed myself in the dead center of the start area, I noticed my goggles seemed looser than normal and were taking on a little water. I quickly swam over to the shore to make an adjustment which ended up in me pulling the strap completely out. As the Anthem played, I found myself jerry-rigging the strap back together and positioning my goggles under my swim cap which did the trick.

BOOM! That was the sound of the cannon firing to begin one of the longest and most challenging days I think I’ve ever had. The adrenaline and excitement prior to the race start while treading water in Mirror Lake was only second to that of the finish line. But after the cannon went off, all of those green and pink capped heads transformed from bobbing buoys into projectile weapons. They say that nothing can compare to the mass start of ~2500 age groupers starting the swim of an Ironman triathlon together. I thought this might have been a little exaggerated but I was completely wrong. For the entire first half of the first loop, I drank white capped lake water, swam over some and was swum over by others, and generally just tried to find a quiet place to swim. The swim descriptions of the start are not exaggerated at all. (Note to self: Do not start dead in the middle of the pack again!) By the time I got to the second half of the first loop my goal was to just find a place to swim farther out from the underwater cable guiding most of the competitors, relax, let my heart rate settle, and try to enjoy the swim. Mission accomplished.

ROAR! Exiting the water and hearing the roar of the crowd set a new tone for the second loop. I wanted to swim and not just survive. By the start of the second loop, the field had spread out a little more so there was some open water to enjoy, but I was still getting knocked around a bit, especially at the buoy turn. So finally by the end of the second loop, I decided if I’m going to be knocked around it might as well be on the cable. I’m glad I made that decision because it resulted in a lot faster pace for the last half of the second loop.

GURGLE! The aggressiveness of the swim didn’t leave much time to think about anything aside from finding clear water, but I did try to take some time through the gurgling to remember some key training wins that led me to that point and really enjoy the moment.

The transitions are not the most glamorous part of an Ironman so I won’t try to make them something they’re not. I exited the water feeling thrilled to have completed the swim, got my wetsuit stripped off of me, ran and collected my transition bag and into the tent. I was barely able to find a chair to change in but sat myself down and methodically worked through the pre-rehearsed transition into my bike gear, took a quick port-a-potty break, collected my bike, and went off to start on the next part of the day.

It’s no secret to anyone I’ve trained with that the bike is my Achilles heel and not my favorite part of triathlon. And I don’t feel guilty to admit that I had a very hard time mentally during training and especially during this race.

It’s very rare for me to be on the bike and experience the same kind of joy I get from swimming or running. But the course itself was remarkable. For anyone who has not seen it, the race course weaves through the incredibly breathtaking Adirondack mountains alongside rivers, waterfalls, and beautiful scenery. Looking up and seeing this as the backdrop to your Ironman bike was a huge part of what made this race special.

I’m used to biking alone and participating in smaller races so the first ¾ of the first lap seemed extremely crowded to me. It didn’t help that I was being passed by what seemed like the entire rest of the field and passing no one back. But what could have turned into a complete psych out for me was tempered by reminding myself that I was only “commuting to the marathon” and that I needed to race my own race no matter what.

The Keene descent, which is a 6 mile continuous descent into the town of Keene in which some riders reach speeds of 50mph+ was undoubtedly the part of the course I was most anxious about. Despite the fact that I had successfully ridden this part during training, I knew that I would not feel completely relaxed about the bike course until after this portion which happens within the first quarter of each loop. Sure enough, after completing it the first loop, I let out a big sigh of relief and was even able to increase my average speed on the second loop (where it was notably less congested).

As I completed the first loop back into town, I was greeted by cheers from my friends and the crowd for the next three miles. Since the streets are blocked off in town with people hanging over and cheering, it almost made me feel as if I was participating in some sort of strange parade.

Everything they say about the second loop is true and my experiences on the second loop seemed to be magnified 100x. The flat portion of the course from Keene to AuSable and back to Jay seemed to be endless and I found myself shifting positions on the bike multiple times just to get comfortable. The heat seemed like it picked up as did my need for nutrition and hydration. The one exception to this compounding effect came during the last major climbing portion from Wilmington back into town. At this point, I felt myself feeling surprisingly strong and mentally fresh when I should not have been. Perhaps I had been too cautious in the first 100 miles of the bike but I was also sure not to blow up and hammer this part to make sure I continued to stay fresh for the run.

The goal of the second transition was to move methodically but swiftly. I was so happy to get off the bike that I was having trouble following directions on how to get back into the tent and took a wrong turn. Once in the tent, I was linked up with a volunteer who helped me to quickly make the transition into my run gear. He was really pushing me to go quickly which at the time was annoying but looking back, made sense since knowing I might have run through the checklist in my head 10 times before starting the run without his extra push. Along with the scenery and unique location and crowd support, I have to say the volunteers are amazing and make this race as special as it is. There were multiple times throughout the day where a volunteer made me feel like I was the only participant and that was truly amazing.

When I wrote this section of the race report, I wrote it second after the swim. I should have written it first, however, because running is and always will be my favorite sport and is the part of this event that I am the most proud of. By the time I got to the run, I knew that I would be finishing an Ironman that day: I had run a marathon in the past, had conserved (maybe too much) energy on the bike, and I knew running was my strongest leg. The keys to success during the marathon I knew were going to be both mental and physical and would have a lot to do with nutrition.

Physical: This was the easy part. I picked a pace I knew I could maintain for the rest of the race. I remember a friend passing me on his second loop and my first and asking me how I felt. I told him I felt like I could run this pace forever and really meant it! Part of that had to do with the couple of training brick workouts during the week and the other part had to do with the “commute to the marathon” on the bike mentality.

Nutrition: I’m not the type of person to deviate from a plan unless something is going completely wrong and this was the case for the marathon. My plan was to alternate water and gels at one aid station with perform drink in the next and it worked like a charm.

Mental: Here’s the tough part. Running and especially my long runs during training were my favorite part of the week. I viewed them as a form of “therapy” and they really became the heartbeat of my training program. During the marathon, I went from being ecstatic at the completion of the bike and start of the run through downtown Lake Placid to mentally drained and tired at the turnaround of the first loop and then back to ecstatic again as I entered town. Sure enough, this was how the second loop went as well. It was almost like a sliding scale of emotion measured by how far I was from town! During the toughest parts, I drew strength from visualizing the support of my friends and family and replaying training successes over and over in my head.

Aside from the incredible support from volunteers and cheering spectators, the aspect of this part of the race I found to be the most motivating and moving was the face of determination and pride of my friends and and all of the other competitors in the final phase of their day. They were doing something great and each one had their own very personal reason for wanting to become an Ironman. As I ran with the other participants, knowing that they had been through the same training struggles and that they were each doing this to accomplish one of the biggest goals of their lives was incredibly motivating and moving.

By the time I reached the infamous mile 20 of the marathon mark, I forced a positive tone on the last 6 miles of the marathon by making myself say out loud “I feel strong.” This carried me through the next 1-2 miles until I finally saw the Olympic ski jumps in the distance from River Road like a beacon of hope and I knew I was getting close to the finish. At that point I had decided to run the whole marathon, knowing that I could finish in under 14 hours and that if I stopped to walk up the big hills that I might not be able to start running again. And run was what I did. In fact, by the time I got to the 3 mile mark, I picked the pace up. At that point, as the crowds were also picking up along the road back into town and made me feel like a superstar with each step closer.

The run course sadistically leads you by the Olympic Oval with about 2 miles to go so I got to hear the music, the cheering and the famous “You are an Ironman!” over and over again. I began to tear up. But instead of breaking down I channeled every ounce of energy I had left into my legs and sped up. The last mile of the marathon was a mixture of relief, adrenaline, excitement, and anticipation. I felt like I was running on completely fresh legs as I entered into the Oval like a contestant who had just won a tv game show… and we all know what happened next!

For anyone participating in an Ironman in the future, my number one piece of advice would be to have a post race plan for what happens immediately when you cross the finish line until you finally go to sleep. In addition I’d say to also remember that if you think you put enough sunscreen on you did not, if you think you hydrated enough, you did not, if you think you lubed your shorts, seams, and ankle straps enough, you did not! But in a few days it will not matter anyway because you will still be an Ironman.

For anyone not participating in an Ironman in the future, I hope you have picked up through reading this report that (as cliché as it sounds) if you want something badly enough, and work hard to get it, that anything is possible.