Blue skies, mountains every which way, a bustling town, and a place that will always put a smile on my face, we were finally there; Lake Placid. Driving through Main Street with Mirror Lake on your left and the Olympic center on your right, this place never seems to get old. It is a place where miracles have been made, dreams have been crushed, and thousands of men and women have been granted the title “Ironman”.
The purpose of this trip was simple; Train as much and as hard as possible. Minus the sleeping and driving that had to take place in order to make this trip possible I was left with thirty-eight possible hours to train on the actual Ironman course. After setting up camp at the traditional Whispering Pines Campground we headed straight to Mirror Lake to get a swim in. Well when I say “we” I mean Mike and myself, though I would be the only one swimming. The beach seemed to be over crowded with tourists and Mirror Lake itself was like New York City, but instead of taxi’s driving up and down the streets, there were kayakers paddling like children hyped up on caffeine. The course was loosely marked with buoys so I had an idea of where to go and when to start and stop. I started where I thought I would start race morning and that was in back and off to the side. I set sail stroke after stroke, and I finally found a rhythm. I knew I had about three hours until it got dark so I figured I may have to push myself a little in order to finish the 2.4 miles before the sun set. (Kidding) I would love to tell you how long it took me, but I know if people actually read this thing they may laugh at the snails’ pace at which I moved at. Once I completed the two loops I was greeted by some fellow triathletes/teammates who were also there busting there asses for the next 48 hours. We took a little time to talk one another, but soon after I was out on my bike for a thirty mile spin. The main purpose of the small bike ride was to see how I would feel after the 2.4 mile swim, and to loosen up my legs for tomorrow’s 112 mile trek around the surrounding towns.
First day=done. It was now time to shoot the shit with Mike and find something to eat and fuel up for tomorrow’s long ride. We walked, and walked, and walked and found not a single restaurant under $15 per plate. So we opted to hit up Subway and go for the $5 footlong. We were on a pretty tight budget this trip so money was a limiter. Lucky for us after we ate dinner it was 8:30 which meant, back to our 5 star tent and lay our head on a rock hard ground, and try to get some shut eye. After taking Mike down in rummy we decided to wake up and six in the morning, that way I could set sail by 7-7:30. Sounded like a great idea the night before, but when those alarms went off the next day it sounded like torture.
Once I got my butt in gear I laid everything out for the ride and tried to organize what I would need for the day and at what time. 6 packets of GU, 2 Clif Bars, Pretzels, 2 Bottles of Ironman Perform, 1 bottle of Gatorade, and 2 bottles of water. The one thing that was absent was Mountain Dew which I later regret not having. After drinking my coffee it was time to rock and roll. First six miles of this bike are up and down it felt like a rollercoaster. I’m talking constant climbing then descending. There were some decent little climbs that made the legs a little tight so I decided just to spin up these little diddy’s at a slower pace. After all I did have 106 miles to go. After the first ten miles my average speed was a whooping 16.9 miles per hour! Not knowing this course I figure I was going to be in for the worse ride of my life. The next miles came easy, very easy. It was approaching the Keene descent and I was ticking of 29mph which seemed effortless, but I did have a 20mph tailwind which was brilliant. After about 5ish miles the scariest part of the bike course came about. For all those adrenaline junkies who love flying down this hill, I envy you. I was simply scared shitless. It had to have been the steepest, toughest descend ever. I was griping so tight on my handlebars I thought I was going to snap them in half. I was clutching onto my brakes and I was going still 42mph. Holy hell never again. After finally making it into Keene, I quickly thanked my lucky stars and made my first wrong “turn”. I kept going straight when I was suppose to turn left, but I only went about 4 miles roundtrip out of the way. No biggie Ill just cut short the out and back. After getting back on track I was off to Upper Jay, and once again the tailwind became my friend, and I was hitting 27mph on flat land. This section of the course felt extremely fast and is going to be a huge help for keeping a decent average speed throughout the ride. Once I did the out and back to Ausable Forks, I saw a sign which read “Lake Placid 17.” Score! Only seventeen more miles and I’m done with the first lap and my average speed is slightly over 21mph. I’m kicking ass right now, or so I thought. The last 17 miles of this course simply suck. They can break you down and strip you to the core. The climbing is brutal, and the tailwind that I loved oh so much before was now 20mph in my face. Joy. Let this go by extremely fast. Needless to say the next 17 miles took me slightly over an hour. Spinning up Mama Bear and Papa Bear I finally saw the end was near, well for the first loop at least. Once I made the left back into town I stopped quickly to see an eagerly waiting Mike, filled up my bottles, got some nutrition and with a quick goodbye I was off for lap number two.
This lap for some reason felt a lot more relaxed. I knew the course, I knew where to turn, I knew what was next, I knew where to push and where to hold back on. Overall I was ready to go for round two. The once blue skies now turned grey and the wind seemed to be picking up even more! The flags were whipping around the flag poles, the trees were swaying and my speed seemed to be borderline fast. At this point of time I knew it wasn’t the engine it was the wind so I decided to push it a little, knowing this wind was going to be the devil once I make the turn into Willmington. Second lap was pretty uneventful up until the last seventeen miles. Once again the wind was howling and the grey skies were now drizzling rain. Once I finally made it into Willmingotn, I was just hoping to make it back to Placid in one piece. The drizzle now turned into a straight downpour and I was 10 miles out and miserable. I had 102 miles under my belt and only ten more grueling miles to go. I started to get extremely cold and the “F” bombs were flowing like the Niagara River. My first true question of “Why the hell am I doing this?” happened. At this point my legs felt like a tractor trailer ran over them. About eight miles out I caught up to an older couple stranded on mountain bikes. I said, “This is miserable eh?” and the older man said “No way this is a blast.” I was saying to myself “How the hell could be going up this hills in the freezing rain be a blast?” This is fricking stupid, give me a bed and a beer and life would be so much better. Then I stopped for a second and though :This is a blast.” This is what I love to do. I love riding my bike. I love challenging my body. I love climbing hills. I love the sport of triathlon, and all of a sudden when I thought I had nothing left in the tank I got a second wind. I decided to quit complaining and ride. I quickly pushed up the last two hills and was rounding the corner to of then be greeted by Mama bear and Papa Bear once again. I took them slow and just kept pushing knowing that it would be only a matter of minutes before I was back into town. Freezing, cold and tired there was no transition run in my future. Off to the showers and it would then be time to eat.
The schedule for the rest of the day was to hang out with Mike and just enjoy what the town had to offer. We walked around the town for as long as the weather would allow us to. Once again the weather man was way off, as the 70 degrees and sunny, turned into 60 degrees and rain. Awesome! No hotel room, no shelter we were up the creek without a paddle. We ran to our car and weathered the storm (no pun intended). Once the rain seemed to have stop, the sun came out and it was a brilliant day at last. We chilled out, people watched, ate some food and before we knew it, bed time was quickly approaching. One more day. One more training session and it would be time to head home.
Mike and I decided to sleep in a little today and woke up to a 7am alarm, hoping to start the run by 8am. What I had planned was pretty vague, but bare minimum I wanted to run 13.1 miles. After getting in the coffee I started at the Olympic oval and headed out onto the run course. Before I knew it I was running 7:15 miles and soon realized that if I continued this pace I would make it about five miles so I slowed it down to 7:45-8minutes per mile. I figured after yesterdays ride I would be dead tired, but soon enough I noticed the first hour was gone. I felt pretty good, and thought I could go for about twenty miles with not gut wrenching pain. Turning back onto Route 73 I hit a wall and I hit it hard. Only 1:10 into my run and it was like night and day from two miles that had just passed. I knew Mike was waiting for me back into town so I kept the legs moving and kept thinking about how this same scenario would come about in about three weeks. Would I want to stop and walk during Ironman this early into the run? Negative, if I walk this early I would get way to use to walking, so I pushed up the hill back into town. This was one of many times were I pictured the course lined with screaming “fans” and I got goose bumps all throughout my body. As I did the out and back on Mirror Lake Dr. I gave a shout out to Mike and decided to do another six miles on the course. Even though I wasn’t in the best form running those last three miles or so I couldn’t stop thinking about how in three weeks I will be here doing the real thing. Two thousand plus people and I will be trudging along the course all with one goal in mind. To get to that line and to get there as fast as you possibly can.
I learned a lot these past two days. Sure I learned more than how tough the course is or when to push and when not to push, but the big thing I learned was to never give up even when the going gets tough. I have put in countless hours of training to get to the point where I am right now. Even though it hasn’t always been easy, I wouldn’t trade the past eight months for anything. It has been a journey that I honestly may never experience again in my life. I’m not saying I’ll never do an Ironman again, I can promise that in 2011 “Ironman __________” will not appear on my race schedule. I know one thing for sure is I could not have done this without the support of my parents, friends and Catherine. I can’t wait until I get to share this race with them July 25th. I hope once I cross that finish line it will be a minor payment of all the hell I have put them through for the past eight months. In the end I cannot wait until I step foot in Mirror Lake race morning. It is going to be an experience I’ll never forget.
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