Tag: ironman

Sunday, July 8, 2018

This was my third consecutive year racing the Muskoka Ironman 70.3 in Huntsville, Ontario. It was not a race I had initially planned on doing, but my best friend Emily was sadly unable to race the Lake Placid Ironman 70.3 (check out  that race report here!) this September, so we decided to do it together.

In 2016, Deerhurst Resort hosted the race and many athletes (myself included) were displeased with the grueling out-and-back run course along the sweltering, exposed Highway 60. In 2017, the race venue changed to the Canada Summit Centre, which in my opinion, is a better venue with ample parking, an easier swim exit into transition and steps away from crowds of spectators in downtown Huntsville. Due to road construction this year, they were unable to offer the picturesque one-loop bike course (Brunel Rd – South Portage Rd – Dwight Beach Rd – Highway 35 – Highway 117 – Brunel Rd), and instead sent us on an out-and-back course along Brunel Rd and Highway 117. The run course (2 out-and-back loops) was slightly different than last year, in that athletes would spend less time in the unsightly industrial area just west of downtown.

In late June, Rod and I travelled to Lake Placid and spent 25 hours training in 8 days to celebrate the end of his five-year residency – a week full of type 2 fun. We explored hilly, hidden backroads on two wheels and rode a grueling 160 km one day, the longest ride I have ever done. Upon returning to Toronto on July 3rd, my legs and body were exhausted.

Since my taper week was non-existent, I was going into Muskoka 70.3 with low expectations of my performance and a mindset of just having a grand old time with my BFF. The July 7/8 race weekend also coincided with our move from downtown Toronto to Elliot Lake, a small retirement community in northern Ontario, about 6 hours away. The Friday morning before the race, we loaded Rod’s truck and a U-haul with all of our belongings, except for my bike and triathlon gear, of course. We went our separate ways – him to Elliot Lake, I to Emily’s cottage in Haliburton.

Soon after I arrived at the cottage, I convinced Emily to join me for an easy 4 km run to nearby Sir Sam’s ski hill and back so we could loosen up our legs and sleep more soundly that night. Emily’s parents were hosting their friends from Prince Edward Island, and we enjoyed a lovely dinner with them and fell asleep promptly.

On Saturday morning, I was anxious about leaving early enough so we could secure an advantageous spot for our bikes in transition. Emily and I packed everything up and left around 9:30 am, drove to Huntsville and picked up our race kits. We hopped on our bikes and rode for 20 easy minutes to check our gears, then racked our bikes in transition close to the aisle end of the rack. To our disadvantage, our age group rack was the furthest rack away from the transition entrances/exits, which would undoubtedly add to our transition times. We chatted with a few women from the US (one named America from Hawaii) and Emily kindly offered to bring and share her bike pump on Sunday morning. I noted that very few male athletes had racked their bikes compared to our rack – no surprise that us women are more organized.

After we attended the athletes’ briefing, we hopped in the water via the swim exit for a 10-minute, 400m easy swim. The water temperature was pleasant without a wetsuit and we happily observed that the current in the river was noticeably weaker than it had been in 2017.

After grocery shopping in Huntsville, we drove to Emily’s other best friend’s house in Port Sydney, 20 minutes away. After unpacking, we cooked up a massive 4:30 pm late lunch of whole wheat pasta with pesto, shrimp and veggies. We mobilized to the public beach down the road for a couple hours and randomly ran into Mark, a middle aged man we had stayed with the previous year in an Airbnb house we rented in Huntsville and have continued to follow on Strava. Upon returning to the house, we prepared and I subsequently gorged myself on nachos with chicken while watching the Lindsay Lohan version of The Parent Trap. Bedtime was at 10 pm, but I found it challenging to sleep due to indigestion – I attribute this to overeating nachos! Lesson learned.

Race Morning

Our 4:15 am wake-up arrived too soon, and we sleepily made our pre-race breakfasts before departing at 5:20 am. After parking on a side street, we ran into Mark yet again while walking towards the race site – what a coincidence to see him twice within a 12-hour period! Emily and I set up our equipment in transition while chatting with other women and met up with Emily’s cottage neighbour and his girlfriend, who had been Emily’s roommate in university. While waiting in a porta potty line-up for 15 minutes – how are there never enough porta potties at these races? – we befriended a young, friendly teacher named Zack, who was racing his first half Ironman.

1900m Swim – 35:12 (Pace 1:51/100m)
Category Rank: 8/53
Gender Rank: 61/413

Since our age group was the first to start, we speed walked down the 500m long gravel Camp Kitchen Road towards the swim start, dropped off our morning clothes bags and spontaneously posed for a cute photo for the race photographer. The main entrance into the lake is through a narrow opening between a few trees and you must carefully lower yourself down a couple of makeshift rocky stairs. This set-up makes it difficult for several triathletes to enter all at once, so the volunteers worked hard to corral everyone into groups based on swim cap colours.

Luckily, Emily and I managed to hop into the water with a couple of minutes to spare. We treaded water while everyone sang O Canada and at 7 am sharp, the cannon went off and we started swimming. As usual, it was absolute chaos. There were so many bodies so close together; I found it unusually hard to catch my breath and relax. After the first 150 to 200 metres, my body felt unexpectedly tired and I knew I had to slow down to conserve energy for later. I focused on trying to relax while pulling with a vertical forearm, a technique I had been trying to implement over the previous couple of weeks. As the swim course headed upstream and into the narrow channel for the last 500 to 700 metres, I found it slightly easier to navigate because there were buoys on both sides, rather than the sparsely placed buoys in 2017. I don’t know why anyone would be smoking a cigarette on their dock at 7:30 am, but that someone clearly lacked courtesy and it was disgusting to inhale secondhand smoke while swimming. I had a smooth exit out of the water and up the staircase, capped off by a team of proficient wetsuit strippers who removed my suit in seconds. I was pleasantly surprised as I glanced down at my watch and realized that my swim time was faster than I anticipated.

90 km Bike – 2:44:22 (Avg Speed 32.85 km/h)
Category Rank: 6/53
Gender Rank: 20/413

T1 was quick (2:46) and uneventful – I hopped on my bike and started spinning out of transition and onto Brunel Road. It took a couple of minutes to slow my breathing down enough to take sips of Gatorade. The first 10 km of the course were relatively flat, followed by some short, steep-ish climbs until kilometre 20. The bike course felt empty and I felt somewhat alone, but I realized that’s what happens when you start in the first wave of athletes! Since there weren’t many people to pass, I was forced to look within myself for motivation, rather than getting a confidence boost from overtaking others. I entertained myself by playing cat and mouse with a male athlete on a Cervelo – he would pass me on the downhill sections and I would usually overtake him on the climbs.

Shortly after we made a sharp left turn onto Highway 117 at Baysville at kilometre 22, we reached the first aid station and I slowed down to grab a fresh bottle of Gatorade from a volunteer. The Cervelo guy was about 100m in front of me and he must have braked too aggressively or ran over a water bottle, but he suddenly flew over his handlebars and onto the far side of the road. The awful sound of carbon fibre striking pavement shook me to the bones and my heart rate skyrocketed. Had we been alone, I would have stopped to make sure he was okay, but several volunteers rushed over to him right away. A few hundred metres down the road, I yelled at an OPP officer, “Some guys crashed his bike back there! I think he’s okay but just wanted to let you know!” I prayed that he was alright, but I was thankful for my own sake that I wasn’t riding any closer to him.

While climbing and cruising down the beautiful rolling hills in along Highway 117, I tried to remain in my aerobars as much as possible. At the turnaround point (the top of a random hill on Highway 117 less than 5 km from Dorset), a woman yelled at me, “You’re in 4th place!” I thanked her for letting me know and channeled that positive energy to maintain my cadence and perceived effort level (I was not wearing my HR monitor and I did not have a power meter…yet). Out-and-back courses are both a blessing – because you can see who is behind you – and a curse – because if they catch you, you realize you are slower than them. Heading back towards Baysville after the turnaround, I felt defeated riding into a strong headwind and remained in my small front ring nearly the entire time. I was passed by a couple of strong female athletes and more male athletes on very expensive-looking tri bikes. Since my Cervelo buddy had disappeared (I didn’t see him again), I played cat and mouse with another woman in my age group.

Bike Nutrition:
2.5 x 710 bottles of Gatorade
3 x Quaker chocolate chip granola bars
1 x Clif shot block

Heading back into town, I managed to loosen my bike shoes while riding, quickly dismounted off the bike and I smiled when I heard Emily’s former roommate, Fiona, cheering for me. I switched into my running shoes and grabbed my hat, puffer, shot blocks and Tums. As there was a porta potty conveniently placed next to our age group’s bike rack at the end of transition, I opted to empty my full bladder before starting to run. While I was in there, I swear the announcer said over the loudspeaker, “Lisa Purzner is taking a long time in transition…”, which made me self-conscious about how long it was taking me to urinate. It was a hot day and this girl had drank nearly 3 bottles of Gatorade, what am I supposed to do?

21.1 km Run – 1:47:09 (Avg Pace 5:04/km)
Category Rank: 4/53
Gender Rank: 17/413
Elevation Gain: 152 metres

My T2 time (3:06) was slightly longer than usual, but I felt fresh at the outset of the run and was able to maintain a pace of 4:35 to 4:40. I stuck to my nutrition plan, eating one shot block every 3 km and taking sips of water/throwing the rest in my face at every aid station. The out-and-back design of the run course enabled me to assess the other female athletes around me and evaluate how fast I should run in order to maintain or improve my position. Along Main Street, I kept my eyes peeled for Emily’s supportive parents but never saw them. Fiona was hands down the cheerleader of the day and her positive energy brought a smile to my face every time I saw her.

Never before have I been offered or used ice chips during training or a race, but I happily accepted them at every aid station beyond 10 km. Half of them went in the upper back of my trisuit and half in the front of my sports bra, which instantly cooled down my core temperature and I believe this was crucial to keeping pace. America, the friendly woman from Hawaii who had borrowed Emily’s bike pump, cheered me on as we passed each other on a short out-and-back section. I somehow passed her around 15 or 16 km and gave her some words of encouragement. My faster than anticipated run pace and the imposing heat made it feel like my calves were on the verge of cramping, but they decided to cooperate.

During the last kilometre, the last few uphills felt okay and I was able to keep a good pace towards the end and I sprinted down the finish chute with a new surge of energy. I was shocked to see that I had finished with a PB of 5:12:35 – 38 minutes faster than my previous year’s time of 5:40:46.

Post Race

My right calf muscle began to tighten and a medical volunteer asked if I wanted to sit down for a bit; I responded, “Yes, please!” and he led me over to a Muskoka chair with a footrest under the medical tent, brought me a bottle of water, removed my timing chip and confirmed with Sportstats that my age was indeed listed as 30. After a couple minutes of rest, I felt okay and slowly waddled out of the finish area. As I stood in the blazing sun for 20 minutes, my stomach began to turn itself inside out and I vowed to never again gorge on nachos as a pre-race meal, no matter how tempting they are. Emily made her way down the finish chute with a painful-looking gait pattern – that’s when I finally spotted her parents and their PEI friends cheering her on. It turned out that Emily’s calves started cramping around 10 km and she had to continuously stop, stretch and continue on for the final 11 km. I sat down with her on the pavement in the shade and gently massaged and stretched her rigid calves.

I checked the results board and was elated to find out that I finished 4th in my age group and 17th female overall! Our cheerleaders left after Emily had recovered from her muscle cramps and we gingerly made out way inside the Canada Summit Centre for our post-race meal. After devouring some chicken and pasta, we changed out of our sweaty clothes and reunited with porta potty Zack (as he will forever be known) before the awards ceremony.

Eventually, we drove back to Emily’s parents’ cottage in Haliburton for beer and appetizers on the dock, and a celebratory salmon dinner. The next morning, I drove to our new home in Elliot Lake with heavy legs and was welcomed by my husband, who had unexpectedly unpacked everything!

1

Why Lake Placid?

Lake Placid, New York, is a rather special place. I was first introduced to the Adirondacks during a week-long combined NYC/hiking trip with my physio friends back in 2012. After spending three days hiking up and down the northeast Appalachian mountain range, we drove up Route 73 from Keene Valley into Lake Placid for well-earned pizza and beer. I was mesmerized by the winding road along the cascading rivers and picturesque lakes, and I vowed to return one day to further explore the area.

Fast forward 6 years… My husband and I have spent three out of our past four annual June training holidays in Lake Placid because we love the place so much. Apparently we’re not alone. Lake Placid is the only American town that has hosted the Winter Olympic Games twice – in 1932 and 1980. It is also the longest-running full Ironman in North America, aside from the Ironman World Championship. Once you’ve arrived in this warm, welcoming, all-American town, it’s hard to not fall in love. A stroll down Main Street tempts you with local craft brew pubs, hipster coffee shops and quaint shops selling bear-themed souvenirs. Mirror Lake is a notoriously calm, motorboat-free lake that has a 2 km loop of anchored steel cable that sits 3 to 4 feet below the water surface. The cable basically eliminates the need to sight, except to prevent collisions with your fellow swimmers – of which there are plenty on warm, summer days.

Local drivers are very considerate of giving cyclists plenty of space on the mostly wide shoulders along the heavily cycled Ironman bike loop that connects Lake Placid, Keene, Jay and Wilmington. Over the past couple of years, there have been notable road improvements along the bike course, including re-paving the steep 5-mile descent on Route 73 into Keene, where cyclists can easily reach speeds beyond 70 km/h and I personally no longer feel comfortable staying in my aerobars. The Ironman run course is basically an out-and-back run past the Olympic ski jumping complex, down Riverside Drive, with a one-mile out-and-back jaunt along Mirror Lake Drive before entering the historic Olympic speed skating oval and classic Ironman finish chute. I clearly love this town and when I found out Lake Placid was hosting the 70.3 a second time around (my best friend got married on the LP 70.3 inauguration weekend in 2017), I signed up without any hesitation.

Race Preparation

This was my first race since I had started working with a coach, Cindy Lewis-Caballero, in early August. Throughout August, I was training 13 to 15 hours per week, which included 3 open water swims, 3 rides, 4 runs (2 of which were off the bike) and one 30-minute strength session in a typical week. On August 25th, I misread my workout plan and accidentally rode the entire 3-hour bike ride at Half Ironman pace, rather than the prescribed 90 minutes of it. Over the next two weeks leading up to the race, I continued to experience a dull, achy discomfort in my left hamstring while running uphill or beyond zone 2. During taper week, Cindy drastically reduced my training volume and intensity, down to 5 hours with only one easy run, so that I could rest my hamstring. In spite of this poorly timed hammy injury, I remained optimistic. I was eager to compete at my first international race and perform my absolute best. My two goals were: 1) to finish in under 5½ hours and 2) to finish on the podium within my age group. As much as I would love to race a sub 5 hour half Ironman, I was all too familiar with the challenging bike course and the weather report was calling for unseasonably cold temperatures, similarly to the race in 2017.

On Friday, September 7th, Rod and I left Elliot Lake at 7:30 am and we shared the scenic 10-hour drive along the north border of Algonquin Park through Ottawa Valley to Lake Placid. I had plenty of time to process the race plan Cindy had emailed me, which was essentially a 10-minute swim warm-up, an evenly paced swim with increased kick towards the end, power output guidelines for the bike and a hold-on-as-long-as-you-can suggested pace for the run. After a few brief road stops and several snacks from my massive lunch bag, we checked into our Airbnb moments before our friends, Lauren, who was also racing, and her husband, Alex, arrived from Toronto.

On Saturday morning, Lauren, Rod and I headed out for an easy 40-minute bike ride down River Road with a few short intervals at race pace intensity. We leisurely rode the one mile on our bikes to Athlete Check-In at the Conference Center and met a super friendly guy named Adam from Chattanooga, Tennessee, who was competing in his second-ever triathlon and his first Ironman 70.3. We breezed through the check-in process and racked our bikes in the Olympic Oval aka transition. Unlike Muskoka 70.3, there was no mad dash to arrive as early as possible in transition because our bikes were racked according to our bib numbers already labelled on the racks. Rod, Lauren and I lingered in transition to attend the pre-race briefing, which was essentially a stern cold weather warning. The announcer stressed that the forecast was calling for very cold temperatures for the morning, and that we should layer up with gloves, arm sleeves, jackets and knee warmers to prevent hypothermia. Ironman had also decided to set up warming tents at the swim start and in the transition zone, as well as large change tents for athletes to remove their wet clothing before the bike (typically only available for use during the full Ironman), and offer warm chicken broth on the bike course after the descent into Keene.

Ironman Village was insane. I have never seen so much Ironman paraphernalia, from baby onesies and taco cycling jerseys to aprons and cookie cut-outs. Lauren and I purchased the same pair of Roka goggles and made our way over the Mirror Lake for a shakeout swim. The cliché saying, nothing new on race day, really rang true, as my new goggles incessantly leaked so aggressively that my contact lenses started to shift. I swam back to shore and swapped for my new pair of Speedo Vanquisher goggles. The lake was a lovely temperature, a few degrees warmer than what I had been training in Elliot Lake all summer long, but I appreciated having a wetsuit as the air temperature was a brisk 16°C. I swam moderately easy for 15 minutes and managed to sneak in a few drills from previous swim workouts this summer. Upon Lauren and I exiting the water, Rod declared that he was getting pizza at Balzac’s. Lauren and I realized we were also hungry and grabbed a veggie slice before starting our mad dash to find Lauren a pair of arm warmers.

Our 6:30 pm pre-race dinner consisted of roasted sweet potatoes, white rice with onions and mushrooms, grilled zucchini, peppers and chicken breasts, with a small brownie and ice cream for dessert. We spread all our gear and race fuel out on the living room floor and, probably like all other 2000 triathletes in Lake Placid, debated how many layers to wear on the bike and whether to fully change out of our wet clothes after the swim. We were in bed at 10 pm, slept for at least a few hours despite the inevitable pre-race tossing and turning, and I was up promptly at 4:15 am. Although I was still full from the previous night’s high-carb dinner, I made Rod and I our pre-race meal of French toast and fruit. Alex kindly dropped us off in town at 5:30 and we sauntered up Main Street in the dark with a bunch of other wide-eyed, bundled-up triathletes – I’m sure the scene was similar to a zombie apocalypse. After body marking, we entered transition and I organized all my gear, including thermal sleeves, my new pink & purple Alé bike jersey, pink cycling jacket and a Buff. I was still undecided as to what I was going to wear during the ride and agreed to make a game-time decision in T1.

1.2 Mile Swim – 34:28 (01:47/100m)
Division Rank: 12/88, Gender Rank: 64/615

Lauren and I sauntered down to Mirror Lake, shivering as we zipped our wetsuits up. I spotted Rod momentarily, then he abruptly disappeared and not to be seen until the run (he was apparently seeking shelter in the warming tent). I waded into the overly crowded warm-up area – it was so cold that athletes were congregating in the water to warm up! Although we had been warned during Saturday’s pre-race briefing that athletes who urinate in the lake risk a DQ, I have no doubt that the entire cordoned off lake area was full of caffeine-rich urine. After attempting my swim warm-up, I quit after 4 minutes because it was too congested. The swim was a rolling start, which meant athletes were able to self-seed themselves based on their expected finish time. I jogged on the spot next to a friendly man holding the “33-35 MINUTES” sign.

The announcer enlightened us with the exciting news that today was a record-breaking day – it was the coldest start to an Ironman 70.3 in history, with an air temperature of 33°F (0.5°C). After a beautiful rendition of the American national anthem, the gun went off and the fastest swimmers sprinted off the beach into the lake. Before I knew it, it was my turn to run into the water and embark on this long day of exercise. As always, the first 50 to 100 metres were a bit chaotic but everyone spread out and I found my way to the underwater cable, reducing my need to sight. Although the lake had been perfectly calm before we started, the hundreds of swimmers created a chop in the water and caused the cable to oscillate underwater. It was the most relaxed yet strong I have ever felt during the swim portion of a race, which I attributed to an increased swimming volume since August. As Cindy had advised, I minimized my kicking and focused on maintaining a solid catch and pull with every stroke. After passing a few buoys, I could see the sun beginning to rise over the large trees and little did I know I was the warmest I would feel all day long. Throughout the entire swim, I maintained a consistent stroke rate and felt confident overtaking several swimmers. As the swim exit came into sight and I passed the large public dock, I gently increased my kick to prepare my legs for what lay ahead.

Upon exiting the water at the south end of Mirror Lake by the tennis courts, I checked my Garmin watch and was slightly disappointed that I hadn’t swam any faster. I ran right past the wetsuit strippers, eagerly awaiting those brave souls who valued miniscule gains on their T1 over the associated premature loss of body heat. As I sauntered up the blue carpet path towards transition, I finally unzipped my wetsuit and quickly removed it when I arrived at my bike. I paused in awe for a nanosecond when I realized there was literally steam evaporating from my wetsuit because the air temperature was still 0°C. Cindy had asked me to wear my heart rate monitor during the ride and run, so I awkwardly shoved it underneath my sports bra while wearing my one-piece tri suit. I realized I had to remove my watch to don my arm sleeves, which were next to impossible to pull on while wet (obviously I had never rehearsed this during training). The competitive part of me prioritized aerodynamics over comfort and I zipped up my tight-fitting bike jersey rather than cycling jacket, but I later thanked myself for grabbing the Buff to wear as a hat under my helmet. After shoving a granola bar in my mouth and after my longest-ever T1 of 5:59, I hopped on my bike.

56 Mile Bike – 2:52:49 (19.44 mph or 31.29 km/h)
Division Rank: 5/88, Gender Rank: 13/615

Average HR: 152 (min 97, max 166)
Absolute average power: 186 W
Relative average power: 3.04 W/kg
Elevation gain: 920 metres
Temperature: 0 to 10°C

Although I was a bit chilled as I descended the first 4 km down Route 73 and past the infamous Olympic ski jump, I reminded myself that it would only get warmer as the day went on. My quads warmed up quickly as I rode past a few athletes on the small climbs between kilometres 4 and 15, slightly exceeding my coach’s recommended upper power output of 205 W. I silently thanked Rod for suggesting that we scope out the 3-km Olympic Sports Complex out-and-back when we were in Lake Placid this past June, as I was prepared for the short climb leading up to the turnaround and the sharp 90-degree turn on Bob Run Road. It wasn’t until this turnaround at 12.3 km when I passed the first female I had encountered on the bike course, that I realized I was surrounded almost exclusively by male triathletes. I held myself back from riding too aggressively, as I was aware of the pending climb from Wilmington to Lake Placid near the back end of the course, as well as the subsequent half marathon that I had to run.

Descending from North Elba towards Keene, I was conscious of the northeast headwind that curtailed my speed – however, I still did reach 69.8 km/h according to Training Peaks. During the 10 km descent, riding into the headwind enabled me to feel more comfortable in my aerobars than I had on previous training rides because I couldn’t achieve the same maximum speed. I must have been going at a decent clip when I arrived in Keene at kilometre 26 and turned left onto Route 9N, because I don’t recall seeing the Ironman warming tent serving chicken broth on the side of the road.

My toes and fingers were numb as I hammered the 14 km gradual downhill segment between Keene and Jay and I constantly wiggled them to increase circulation. Rod later described that it felt like he had “rocks in his cleats” because his toes were so numb. As it was roughly 9 am, it was still quite cold (2 to 4°C) and the trees were casting shadows on the road, preventing the sun from reaching us. Strava later told me that I PR’d this segment: speed 36.4 km/h, power output 195 W, heart rate 148. A 90-degree left turn onto Route 86 at kilometre 41 marked the beginning of a 2.4 km steady climb at a 4% grade. Thanks to a now-tailwind and in an effort to warm up my extremities, I PR’d this segment as well. A hundred metres in, I spotted a male athlete crouched over on someone’s driveway desperately attempting to change his tube; a local man had kindly placed a blanket around the athlete’s shoulders to keep him warm. As I spun past a group of athletes, Adam from Chattanooga yelled out, “Go, Lisa!” and I replied with encouraging words for him.

At kilometre 46.5, the bike course turned right onto Bilhuber Road and then danced along the West Branch of the Ausable River on Hazelton Road. Memories of the hot, sweaty ride with Bob from Long Island flooded back to me. Bob was a super friendly man in his late 50s who was training for the full Ironman Lake Placid when Rod and I caught up to him on a ride in late June; we spontaneously rode together at a pretty good clip along the entire bike course and had very pleasant conversation for 3 hours. After the Hazelton turnaround (which was sooner than expected), I shook my head in disbelief as a 20-person peloton blew by on the opposite side of the road – so much for respecting the no-drafting policy! I exchanged my own Gatorade bottle for a Gatorade Endurance bottle at the 64-km mark and boy, that Endurance formula sure is tasty! Apparently it has twice the amount of sodium and potassium as the original Gatorade, but the same amount of carbohydrates.

The dreaded long ascent from Wilmington to Lake Placid didn’t feel quite as awful as I had anticipated, likely due to the wind giving us a gentle push from behind.  At kilometre 71, I was horrified to realize that we had to complete a strenuous out-and-back section at Whiteface Mountain Ski Area, which concluded with a punishing 9% climb back onto Route 86. I forced myself to continue fueling during the remainder of the ride and finally began to feel tiny beads of perspiration on my face and chest as I raced up the Three Bears climb, spray painted on the road for those not familiar with the popular Strava segment. It was exhilarating to return back to Lake Placid, with people cheering loudly next to the barriers and having to negotiate a few hairpin turns before re-entering transition.

Bike Nutrition:
1.5 x 710 mL bottles of Gatorade
3.5 x Quaker chocolate chip granola bars
1 x GU Roctane blueberry pomegranate gel

My T2 (3:23) was much faster than T1, as I removed my Buff, bike jersey and arm sleeves, changed my socks/shoes and snatched my Garmin watch, race belt and Ziploc bag containing 6 shot blocks, a Tums and a gel. I made a quick porta-potty stop to empty my full bladder – stupid cold diuresis phenomenon – and was on my way.

13.1 Mile Run – 1:41:50 (7:46/mi or 4:47/km)
Division Rank: 5/88, Gender Rank: 12/615

Average HR: 163 (min 144, max 176)
Elevation gain: 156 metres

My legs felt surprisingly fresh as I dashed down Main Street and back onto Route 73, which resulted in a speedy first kilometre split of 4:24. My race plan was to run the first 4 km at 4:45/km and then hold onto that pace as long as I could, and if I wanted to accelerate, I would have to hold that faster pace for the entire race. Reality set in as the course gently ascended from kilometre 1 to 3.2 and my pace briefly slowed to 5:00/km. As I accelerated down the hill and turned left onto Riverside Drive just before 4 km, I spotted the male in first place rounding the corner towards me and heading back up towards Lake Placid. I thought to myself, yes! Lots of fast athletes to watch and help pass the time! The rolling hills and picturesque, winding road resulted in the mile markers going by faster than I expected. I distracted myself by counting down the number of women ahead of me – I was pleased to calculate that I was 12th or 13th from the front. I spotted Rod heading back towards town within 1 km of the Riverside turnaround and based on our current running fitness, I knew I would likely catch him. I must have been way too in the zone because he later told me that I pushed him aside at one of the aid stations, yelling, “Water! Water!” In my defense, I have absolutely no recollection of this incident and triathlon is a strictly non-contact sport (apart from accidental collisions during the swim). During the remainder of the race, I kept scanning my competitors ahead and was confused when I later saw him running towards the Mirror Lake turnaround when I was about 1 km from the finish line.

I managed to maintain my goal 4:45/km pace for the majority of the run, slowing down considerably for the two sizable hills: the first one from 14.2 to 15.7 km from Riverside Drive towards the ski jump, and the final, seemingly never-ending mountain leading back into town from 17.6 to 19.6 km. As I finished the final 2 km climb onto Mirror Lake Drive, enthusiastic spectators wearing down jackets cheered me on by my name and I felt a surge of energy return to my legs. I was optimistic that the Mirror Lake out-and-back was short and sweet, but in actual fact it was 3 grueling kilometres. The number of spectators quickly diminished the further I ran from Main Street and I began to feel isolated, along with an alarming tightening of my right quads. It took a lot of effort to unwrap, but I managed to shove a chewy Tums in my mouth to ward off muscle cramping – and it worked! Eventually, the course looped back shortly before Northwood Road, and I was passed by many triathletes finishing up the bike portion of the race and heading back into transition. As I approached the Olympic oval, I subtly turned around to check my competition and was relieved that there was no one trailing close behind. I turned my legs over as fast as I could to finish strong down the red carpet and crossed the finish line with a run of 1:41:50 – my fastest ever half marathon time.

Run Nutrition:
Sips of water
6 black cherry Clif Shot Blocks
1 chewy Tums

Post Race

A kind volunteer congratulated me and gently guided me through the finish area. I readily wrapped the thermal blanket around myself to conserve as much body heat as possible. While waiting for Rod, the endorphin-high social butterfly in me emerged. I recognized and approached the woman who had come in 1st place at Muskoka 70.3 and we chatted for a couple minutes – I later found out she had come in 2nd place in our age group! I spoke with a few guys who I had kept pace with on the bike and/or run, and congratulated them on their races. I only had to wait a few minutes for Rod to cross the finish line so we could get our requisite post-race photo together. We refuelled with mac & cheese, delicious pizza, pretzels and fruit for a solid 30 minutes, then hung around and waited by the finish line to cheer for Lauren!

I was thrilled to find out that I had finished 5th in my age group and 12th female overall, with an official time of 5:18:29! Rod kindly waited around with me for the awards ceremony and I received my M-dot plaque on stage.

Lauren and Alex stayed in Lake Placid for the next 2 days, and we hit the major tourist spots – driving up Whiteface Mountain (we had only ever biked up!), exploring the bear souvenir shops, the Olympic ice rink and the Olympic museum – all of which I highly recommend going to see. Rod and I spent the remainder of the week in town with low-volume recovery swimming and cycling, and I managed to convince him to join me for 3 scenic hikes – Connery & Owen Ponds, Indian Head/Fish Cliffs/Rainbow Falls and Cascade Mountain/Porter Mountain. We decided to save the Trap Dyke for another trip.

Reflection

I am my own toughest critic and often focus on where I can improve, rather than celebrate my successes. In a phone conversation with my coach a week after the race, she praised me for making some smart decisions on race morning. Namely, I stayed as warm as possible until the swim start and I took extra time in transition to dress appropriately for the ride. I think my performance is the result of a few important factors: improved work/life balance with more time available to train and recover (I’ve been working part-time hours since July), structured workouts and immediate feedback from a skilled coach, and increased training volume over the 6 weeks preceding the race.

As this was my final triathlon of 2018, I’m excited to continue working with my coach over the winter to prepare for my 2019 season, including at least one 70.3 distance race, Ironman Canada in July and the ITU World Triathlon Grand Final in Lausanne, Switzerland!

Thanks for reading and please follow me on Strava and Instagram!

1900m swim
90k bike
21.1k run