IMLP ‘08 Photos

“The Perfect Race.”

Although I didn’t know it at the time, I went into Ironman Lake Placid 2008 with a perfect race plan, and when the day came, I executed it perfectly…

The perfect race plan, executed perfectly.

The result: 10:59:12!

A photo-journal:

(All photos here: http://s289.photobucket.com/albums/ll238/kirleis/ironman%20lake%20placid%202008/)

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IMLP Swim Start - Nervous anticipation swims over the sea of athletes as we get ready for the sound of the canon to start the race. I’m in there somewhere!

IMLP Bike Course - Mile Unknown - Fighting a steady down pour on a slight up hill, par for the course on the day.

 

IMLP Bike Course - Mile 56 - Completing Loop #1 of the 2 loop bike course, I waved to my fellow Trifury supporters.

 

IMLP Run Course - Mile 1 - Just off the bike and fully transitioned to the run, I locked focus in to the task at hand — running a marathon.

 

IMLP Run Course - Mile 5 - Running within myself, I kept my breathing under control as I went by the old Olympic Ski Jumps (seen in the background).

 

IMLP Run Course - Mile 15 - Still running within myself, still staying focused, now on Loop 2 of the run course and, for the first time, thinking good about my chances of holding onto my run.

 

IMLP Run Course - Mile 26 - After a near meltdown with the wheels almost coming off on the climb back into the town of Lake Placid, I picked up my pace in attempts to break the 11-hour barrier. This is me hammering away at mile 26, just before turning into the Olympic Oval for the finish. This was also my fastest mile of the day. Take a close look at who the female competitor is behind me. That’s Desiree Ficker, a very popular Pro triathlete.

 

IMLP Finish - Splashing through the last puddle on my way to the Perfect Race. I was so excited that I took off my cap and, seconds before this shot, was running side to side slapping hands with all the fans. I did it. I got my sub-11. I really did it!

 

IMLP Finish - With a 3:34 marathon split, I held on for a 10:59:12 overall time, good for 272nd place of 2500 starters, and 57th of 421 starters in age group M35-39.

 

IMLP - “The Perfect Race”

 

IMLP - The celebration starts!

 

The feeling, complete in mind and body, of an Ironman finish line is life changing. Setting such a lofty goal, working toward it, and then making it happen is something very special. I hope these pictures show the hard work and the near agony of defeat, but a close look will also show the thrill of victory in the place where miracles can happen.

 

I created my own miracle at Ironman Lake Placid with sound training, a perfect race plan suited to my strengths and weaknesses and the course, and the perfect execution.

 

I witnesses as a child “The Miracle on Ice,” but with my race here in the once infamous town, I have forever more changed my own history, because now when someone mentions the miracle that happened in Lake Placid, I will first think of my own little miracle, one I made happen with smart racing, and next think of the gritty US hockey team who overcame all odds to beat their archnemisis.

Live from Lake Placid: Sub-11… 10:59:12!

When I think about Ironman and why I signed up for Ironman Lake Placid, I shake my head at my stupidity, or maybe I’m shaking my head at my setting of goals in areas that hurt so much. And with my previous Ironman, you would have thought I learned, but in truth I block out the pain of that damn marathon run, because that’s the sucker that get you every damn time. Today included.

 

Today, going into Lake Placid, I had the perfect race plan, and I executed it perfectly. Never did I let my ego get in the way, and pick up pace because someone else passed me, and never did I stray from my five-times revised race plan. The coach in me made sure of it.

 

So the basics: On a day where it poured rain half the day, and the other half it rained steadily, except for a stray five minutes somewhere on the run, the course, because of the wet conditions, was even slower than it normally is. There’s this one 5K steep down hill once you’re out of Lake Placid that zips down to the town of Keene. The descent is so fast that triathletes and cyclists alike enjoy comparing how brave others are by bragging — or askng — about just how fast you got.

 

With today’s wet conditions, the course was so slick that instead of cresting 45-55 mph, common for that descent, most riders were on their brakes, fearful of slipping out, and barely going 30 mph. It was actually dangerous whenever you came upon a too-cautious rider, because them being more on their brakes meant everyone else had to navigate around, and try doing that when you’re approaching someone on a steep descent at break-neck speed on very slick roads. It made for a slower than normal course.

 

For me, that actually helped me even though it required the most focus I’ve ever needed on the bike. It helped me because it played into — moreso than I called for — my race plan of going very easy on the bike. I wanted to do the first loop and look back and say, “That was easy!” And that’s what I did. Hectic and nerve-wracking it was, but it was also easy from a bike perspective, but only because, on this tough course, I seriously approached it as if it were my first Ironman, where the goal was only to finish. So where this was by far the hardest course I’ve ever done, it was also the easist. And I have to thank the infamous Sagamore Hill for making it so.

 

Loop 2 of the bike course was approached the same way: easy. But when you have 70 miles of hilly biking under your slick tires, it’s never eary. And this wasn’t. But by mile 70 I was flying by riders left and right who, I’m guessing, went out too hard. I suffered but was able to pretty much hold pace. In the final 13 mile climb back into Lake Placid, the hardest on the course, I was probably slower on the ascent but was within myself. Whenever I found myself exerting too much pressure on the pedals, I dialed it back a touch in hopes to run.

 

Speaking of which…

 

The run. Oh, the run. What fun. What pain. What a race plan. It’s the only thing that enabled me to kick ass on the run and come in sub-11 hours.

 

The run started amazing. The first mile my legs were pumping with more pace than I have ever experienced. In any triathlon, including Sprints. But just beyond the mile marker, I realized that the marathon would not be easy. In fact, I realize it would be just as hard as any Ironman marathon run. The fatigue in my legs reared it’s ugly head.

 

And so I got back to my race plan. Over the entire first loop of the run course, I kept dialing back effort so that my breathing was under control. When I’d lose focus, something that’s all-too easy when you’re intensely fatigued, my pace would shoot way too fast, and finally when I’d recognize it, I’d dial it back, get my breathing back under control, and remind myself that the real run starts at 20 miles. I promise myself that I could hammer it out at 20 if I could.

 

Loop 2 of the run got incrementally harder, but my pace only fell slightly, and since I was still sticking to my race plan, I figured I was still too many miles away from 20 to clock watch and perhaps blow my race because of premature calculations. We as triathletes love to crunch numbers and see what our high end is, but you can’t do this in Ironman. Ironman is one thing and one thing only. Ironman is patience. You need to be patient, pace yourself, keep it easy as the number one goal, and if you can steadily make progress, pace yourself good, results will follow.

 

By mile 16 I was too focused and too hurting to even look at splits. I told myself to stay focused, stay in that zone, until the bitter end. Only if I survived the last two big hills would I look at the running clock to see if I were near the 11 hour mark. So when I say I had no idea where I was, even what my first half split on the run was, I’m not kidding. I was going by feel, and I was staying focused. Crunching numbers would only make me blow up. So I ignored clock time.

 

Although the pain was deep, I made it all the way to the last hill that rises into town at mile 24 before seriously feeling like death. Before hurt, this utterly sucked. I think I put in a 10 minute mile or slower on that hill, but to give credit to it, it is steep and way long, even for a non-Ironman run. It’s one of those that you’d avoid. And even run an extra mile to go around.

 

With the pain getting near too much, I fought to mile 25. My reward for making it that far was to look at the running clock. I couldn’t believe it. It read 10:48. At my current pace I knew I would not make 11 hours. But being so close, I played mind games, I energized myself through different methods, and then to cap it off, as I approached the aid station, I down Coke for the first time all day. I knew by then the caffeine would do something for me. It would either give me a kick, or it would kick me in the pants and knock me over, sub-11 just a dream.

 

Within a minute of downing the Coke, my pace picked up considerably. I slipped back to focus, and hammered the out and back by the lake. My pace was so fast that I passed at least 20 people or more in that little 1.2 mile stretch. It had to be my fastest mile of the day.

 

So when I entered the Olympic Oval for the finish chute, I knew I had it. I just knew. And I started my celebration early, over the entire loop on the Oval. I took off my hat and waved it at the crowd while jumping up and down for what will forever more go down, on a very wet day, as a smart but very perfect race.

 

Sub-11 Baby!

Live from Lake Placid: Calm Before the Storm…

That’s how I’ve always thought about night before each of my previous Ironman events. Bags all checked, bike set and gone, and now all fed with only an hour or two before a long, restless sleep. That is the night before Ironman.

But this, for me, seems to be no longer.

I’m not sure if it’s because this is my third go at the Iron distance, or maybe because I’ve now race early and often over the last few years, many of which have been big races (for me). I’m guessing it’s the latter.

When you do some really big races, such as Ironman, often enough, where say you have two A-races spread throughout your season, coupled with having been there before in a similar race, you come to learn that worry is something you will do — it’s a given. Will I survive the thrash ‘n splash of the mass swim start? Am I strong enough on the bike to pull off an “easy” bike split in a still respectible time? Will I be able to run? Will I come close on my hydration, and will I eat enough but not too much?

These are things I, along with every other athlete getting ready to do this race, are worried about. And these are things I’m worried about. But to be honest, I am not *worrying* about them. I wonder about them, but they do not occupy my thoughts much as they had in my earlier go’s at this distance.

It’s a good place to be.

So although usually this time, two hours before slumber, should be the calm before the storm, it is only calm. If there is ever a worrying thought, it is the mass swim start, but even that, and even if I seed myself wrong and get thrashed, I know I will survive, I know I will punch on, and I know I will climb out of the water and get onto the bike. This wasn’t so in my previous two.

The Calm Before the Show!

Today was a very busy day, perhaps too busy, but in all, it was filled with a few surprises, much friendship, and many gatherings.

After my last writing, I finished packing my gear bags and dropped them off and checked my bike in. Flow in transition was a bit confusing, but I got the maze of my anticipated travels down just right. Or right enough.

Once my I was done with transition detail, I was out of there, heading off by myself for a nice quiet lunch. I went back to that hole in the wall deli, ordered lunch to go, and zipped down the block to a park beside a small lake, where I found a nice park bench to enjoy lunch. Down by the water were a collection of summer kids trying to catch sun fish. Meanwhile a local neighbor pushed her canoe into the water for a gentle paddle.

After lunch I came back to the hotel room and, before long, headed back out to meet a bunch of mates from my local triathlon club (Trifury) down by the Olympic Oval. We chatted, snapped a few photos, and shared many laughs. They even had club shirts made up with participants names. So we posed for another photo. Nearly an hour and a half later, I scooted out of there. My intention was to hook up with them for dinner, but since I had been on my feet for so long, and since I was completely chatted out, I decided to head back to the hotel and find something for dinner nearby. I was regretting the decision until later…

Meanwhile, when I had a good cell — cell phone service sucks up here — I called Tithers to wish her well, another mate, and the Ironmate. Sucks for me because every time I talk with the Ironmate, we lose connect, like, within the first 10 seconds. Haven’t spoken to her yet in any one single complete sentence. Either way, I know the cat, who had surgury the other day, is doing well; I know she loves me; and I know her family is already getting on her nerves; and I know she misses me. I also know that she only misses me becuase of the family and the nerves. But hey, she misses me. It’s all good.

I miss her too, moreso since I know she will not be here. I was originally planning on not wearing my wedding band during the race because, well, I can’t swim with it or I’d lose it. But I’ve decided to slip the ring in the morning into my Bento box. Then I can slip it on my finger once I climb out of the water and get onto the bike. And then she’ll be with my throughout the entire race. I’ll like that by the time I hit the run. And of course I will also have my Make It Happen! wristband. Then again, I don’t go anywhere with out it. It reminds me to pull up my big boy diaper when the going gets tough, and to keep moving, keep plugging, because the only one who will get me to my dreams and goals is… me.

Finally back at the hotel, I decided to walk up the road a quarter of a mile to check out these two Italian restaurants. The first was packed, with a waiting line outside, and no bar to shimmy in on. The second was a old but very cute little two story house converted into a tiny restaurant. As I walked up, a set of eyes sitting at a table on the deck of the house trained on me, then another set of eyes, both from a couple.

“Are you Thor?” I shook my head, yes. “I’m Beth, and this is Matt!”

I couldn’t believe it. They stopped in to the little shack for dinner, too. By chance. There we were. All three of us, having dinner together, swapping stories, sharing in new laughs, and earning the respect of new friends. Very friendly. Conversation was easy and extremely free flowing.

An hour and a half later, I made my way back to the hotel, where I am now, in…

The Calm Before… Ironman!

We will sleep tight here in Lake Placid tonight. I wish for you, where ever you are, to do the same. And send strong thoughts, because my friends, I for one will lean on them. Hard. I will be smart in all disciplines, but as many of you know, the run is never easy. It always hurts. And it always tests like no other. You, of all people, know how appreciative of your support I am. And I will lean on it yet one more time.

Live from Lake Placid: One Day Remaining…

Ironman events remind me a lot of some of the larger multi-day charity rides. Where the event goes, along with it comes a postive can-do vibe dancing above the premise; stories of survival; people reaching for dreams, setting the bar high, higher, and even higher; and an overall feeling-goodness for both athlete and spectator.

On top of that Ironman also affords a world class event, where both Pros and age groupers mix and mingle on the same course, in the events store, and even the same line at Starbucks. Just today I saw Team Timex — most of whom are known Pros — getting coffee. I, of course, didn’t recognize any of them, but if you take the sheer size of their collective calve muscle, you’d believe it to be the same. Then again, I could be standing next to Bjorn Andersson and not know who the hell it was. Even Mike Riley, unless he was wearing his trademark Hawian shirt.

I think the reason for such a worldly event feel here in bumblewood New York is that Lake Placid really is such a tiny town. And once you leave these parts, you’ll in the middle of nowhere New York. But that is what also makes it such an amazing race site and place to host the course. Because we, as Ironman participants and supporters, come into this little town and take it over. We litterally kick the shit out of it. The community, of course, loves us and hates us at the same time. Mostly love, as we bring such energy and enthusiasm, and with the money flowing in, the economy gets its biggest jolt of the year during this event; and the community reaps hundreds of thousands of charity dollars in aid and infrastructure improvement. This year Ironman Community Fund is designating a new outdoor skating rink that will in summer time be converted over to an activity center; other times of year it will be an ice skating rink.

Ironman is unmistable in this part of the Adirondak region these days. The energy add up to a collective vibe of rekindling the Olympic spirit of years gone by. That is what Ironman does to this town.

As for me, last night I went to the Welcome Dinner, which is always followed by the Mandatory Athlete Meeting. The Welcome Dinner, for those of you who have not done an Ironman, is really an inspiring show. Entering the tent is the food line. After you collect your soggy pasta, you filter into the communal tent, complete with stage, professional sound system all around, and over-sized video screen. Shortly after, the show begins, and my oh my, it is quite a show. I have now been to two of those in Madison, Wisconsin in ‘07 and Couer d’Alene last year, and this one, even thought I knew what to expect, was still inspiring.

After meeting up with a handful of folks from my local triathlon club (Trifury), we all went in together. At that point I looked for Tithers but, having arrived 15 minutes late, the place was already packed. We assumed seats, ate, chatted up the race, the course, and our family’s support, and then the show began.

Race participant statistics were read off. NY state has the most participants. Canada has a very strong showing as number one country after US. 27% of the field were Female. This is exactly the same percentage of last year. 831 first timers. The biggest difference in demographics actually came in the age groups. Where typically M35-39 (my age group) is the largest age group, this time, the largest is M40-44. Still, my has 430… so even if I have the race of my life, Kona seems very, very far away.

One more stat, and a story: 8 athletes will be doing their 10th Lake Placid. This is special because this is the 10th year anniversary of the race. That means these guys and one girl have done every single Ironman Lake Placid.

Mike Riley had each of these 10-Timers come up on stage. One of them was, much to my surprise, JRoden’s friend Brian from High Peaks Cycling. Brian lives local and owns the cycling shop in town by the same name (HPC). He even shared a few stories with us. One was of a guy coming to town in January, with roads filled with snow and more falling from the sky, this gym rented a bike from Brian at 9 am and asked how long he could keep it. Brian said, “Just get it back before we close. But where are you going to ride?” The guy said he was in town and wanted to ride one loop of the Ironman bike course. Brian couldn’t believe it. It was freak’n snowing out side, and the roads were barely passable… by car! Brian said the guy left his shop with a full snow parka. He returned at 2 pm. Brian had hot cocoa waiting for him. After he discovered that this guy was an MD by trade, Brian ended by saying “He was the dumbest doctor I ever meet.” On Jr’s advice, I actually tried to meet Brian at his shop, but after asking around, finally one young kid said Brian stepped out for a few hours. It’s too crazy now to go back, but I’ll try to meet him (and ask about just how crazy our very own Jr is) after the race.

Next up was the biggest loser competition. I was sure I would see Tithers, but I suppose she lost all her weight before this race — and actually won in IMFL last year — or was at least among the last standing. I was sad not to see her standing anyway, because then I would have at least gone over to say hi and good luck if we didn’t bump paths again. Either way, it’s crazy busy here with so much to do.

This morning I got up and met some of my triathlon club peeps for the Gatorade Swim. We joked, those doing the race swapped race plans (me: weenie the bike, all of it!), and then swam. I only hit the third buoy and came home, good for just over 10 minutes total swim time. I purposely tried to swim close to others to get used to just that for race day. Small fry, but hey, it’s all good.

Next up was a short run around the lake, then to breakfast. Back to the event store (spent zero dollars) to check out the new wears, as they’re always bringing out new stuff not seen the day before. Then back to the hotel room to make use of my recent sponsorship of free Internet complimentary of Comfort Inn next door. Thank you Comfort Inn. Without your support none of this note would be possible.

So now I get ready to put my gear bags together, check over my bike, and then check it all in. Later I will meet up with folks from my triathlon club for a group picture. And then the waiting begins.

Being out here really puts things in perspective. I’m happy to say that my race plan remains intact. The only thing I will do a little more, as if to take more cautiously, is the bike. So from my estimated times, my bike split will probably be slower. I will respect the course and set as a goal to run the marathon. That means I will go very easy on the bike, especially on the first loop, regardless of how slow that may be. Because this is a course that will be the toughest I will do.

Right now the weather forecast has been gradually changing, probably for the better. Sort of. The temperature for race day was originally called to start at 68 in the morning and climb to near 75-76 by midday, complete with isolated but heavy thunder showers. The thunder showers remain, but forecast has gravitated toward race morning of 60F and 68-70 by midday, but now with higher levels of humidity, which was supposed to be high anyway, so I’m guessing these temps will feel a little warmer with the humidity. At this point I have no change in race gear other than that I will likely stick a very lightweight pair of armwarmers deep in my Bento box. Just in case. I’m the type where on the bike I’d rather be warmer than cooler. So this will be just in case. I don’t want another repeat of IMWI ‘06, where the rain came, the temps dropped, and it got hypotheria-cold out there.

I’ll try to do another update later, but if not… see you on the other side!

Oh, and I apologize to Tithers. Based on your reaction in the other update, I’m guessing I said something wrong, or perhaps I didn’t articulate my thoughts properly. My intension was none other than good. Good luck, girl. Let’s take it easy, steady and moving forward, and if we do that we’ll kick some ass. I will pick you up when you’re down, you do the same for me. Let’s touch base on the cell later today.

Live from Lake Placid: Two Days Remaining - Part II

Small towns rock. Well, they rock some times. Now is one of them. This town is so small, and in the middle of nowheresville New York, that not only is getting around very easy and extremely quick, but when you venture out of town, such as to drive a bike course for a race, you can do it while traveling 75 mph. Which comes in handy when the bike course is a loop of 56 miles that, on race day, you will do twice… on your bike.

So much has happened since we last spoke. Most of it is routine, but since I’m trying to lay low, off my feet, and kill time in the middle of the day instead of yapping my brain off, here I find myself back at my hotel room, and hey, might as well pass time with an update.

After my last post (above), I put the bike in the car, gathered cycling gear, and promptly scooted. My plan was to drive the bike course (again) and, half way through, park and ride a section of the course, just to get a feel for the hills, get an easy warm up in the legs, and help me get focused for the key to this Ironman race (the bike course).

The bike course starts out leaving Lake Placid, headed toward Keene, and rolls with some steeper pace-killing rollers that, well, are more like shorter hills, but not the type we see in the north of Boston area. Those are ant hills, no exaggeration. These are hills. But they are just teasers.

6-8 miles out begins a steady climb with a few downs as you climb out of the Lake Placid area. Once you hit a crest, at maybe 12 miles out, the screaming down hill starts, and it runs for a good 5K into Keene. This section sees many athletes training on… but just the down… because, as niemsco points out above, this is a section where the brave can gain a lot of time. Because you can seriously get to well over 50 mph. Me, I’m a weenie and might only get to 45 to 50. If I had more time, I’d be training that down hill too. But I don’t.

From Keene, through Jay and all the way to Upper Jay is a fairly flat stretch. It can get tough, as you’re totally exposed to the elements, including wind if there is any, but this is the only stretch on the course where you can get into a good rhythm. It runs for about 10 miles before taking a hard left up a fairly steep hill.

Upper Jay to the 7 mile one way out and back on Hasleton Road is a mix of gradual down, gradual up, and everything in between except nice and flat. Most of the gradual ups are too long to maintain momentum from the downs. But it can be a decent stretch.

Then the infamous 15 mile climb back into Lake Placid, where you go by Whiteface. This is where I parked the car for my little ride. My goal was to go up for 5 miles (I went 6.2) and back, which I figured would take nearly an hour. I was wrong. But in a good way.

I hopped on my bike and right away was going over a few gentle rolling hills, each of which were too long to power over, with a major net incline. Although I knew this was a serious net up hill, my bike computer confirmed it when, 6.2 miles later, it read 15.8 mph. My effort was what I hope to do raceday: easy. And these weren’t even the big hills. This was just the beginning of the climbing. Just the beginning. I stayed away from the longer grinds, as I was just looking to stretch the legs.

Then the fun began. I turned around and flew back down, at times doing over 40 mph on roads with “false” down hills. Really. There must’ve been 4 straight miles where I was spinning out with great ease my highest gear. Which made powering over the next rise way easy. In the middle of that long flying stretch, I was just about to over come and pass another rider, when suddenly something flashed from the side of the road. It was what looked to be a coyote. Or maybe a wolf. I wasn’t surprised because, to that point, either on the ride or in the car, I saw wildlife left and right, most deer, but some other critters and creatures, oh my. Seconds later, or so it felt, I was back at the car with an average of 20.1 mph on my computer.

Next I drove back up where I had just ridden to cover the last part of the bike course.

Small towns are great. Because it was time for lunch. When I was out here last I stumbled upon a little hole in the wall sandwhich shop, and that’s where I went, where everything is fresh, and where everybody knew every body else’s name… except for me. I’m pretty sure the guy charged me double what he charged Bill, a local and regular and, by the way, the handiman about town, and the plumber, and the milkman. Oh, and maybe the mailman too. Either way, I now know why Bill and other locals go there. Nothing extraordinary. Just super fresh.

After lunch I went back to the Ironman Event site for a little shopping. And yes, this time I did indeed purchase a $25 tech t-shirt. Although I have a ton of those, I don’t have one with the IMLP logo, and as I mentioned above, I get one of those at all big events I do, because I wear them as if a regular shirt — not for running or other.

Just as I was coming out of the store, the sky, which had been dark and swirling and certainly holding much moisture, finally opened up yet again, probably the 5th time on the day. And this time, hail the size of Gobstoppers fell to the ground. I got pelted beside the head as I darted from car to hotel. It hurt. Now, an hour later, the sun is trying to struggle through.

Live from Lake Placid: Two Days Remaining…

Thanks in advance to my new sponsor, the hotel next door, who I’d like to thank for this Internet access. Onward…

This morning I went down to Mirror Lake, site of the Swim, for the Gatorade Swim. Course is all set up and looking very sharp. Yellow buoys lining the out .55 miles, orange coming back. And if you get close to the buoy line, you can use the under water line holding the buoys in place to guide you. I don’t think I’ll be able to get that close on raceday, but it’s a neat feature.

Swam one full loop at easy pace in 37:40. I expect the same on raceday, since there will be time lost to the thrash and splash, but time gained due to the draft of 2000+ others. Mirror Lake is among the nicest lakes I’ve ever swam. The water tastes like the stuff that comes out of your fawcet.

Had the extreme pleasure of meeting Tithers, Tithers’ dad, and the step-mother baby-sitter. Tithers’ hair is very pink. She claims she doesn’t like it anymore. Tithers seemed a bit nervous (but don’t tell her I said so, because she might kill me, or hold me under water for more than a minute). Because I am someone who can talk. But within the first 20 minutes of meeting her, I said all of two words. And so I chatted up her dad. Very nice guy. Tithers and I hung before the swim, coming out of the water, and again as we got our bags from the Gatorade Swim people. She is exactly what I thought she would be. Very nice. Extremely energetic. And very passionate. And her dad and step mom simply adore her. All nice people. I will see them again tonight for the Welcome Dinner, not to mention at other events.

After that I took off for a run just as the skies open up with a down pour accompanied by several loud lightening strikes. I couldn’t even count Mississippi’s they were so close. I contemplated hidding for cover and doing the run once the rain passed, but well, I was already wet. And I was in non-chaffing tri-geek wear, so I set off.

Next up was a relaxing breakfast at a nearby bagel shop, where I lingered a bit, and now I’m watching the skies, that have since closed to rain but still have darkness of the threat of rain, to go for a final bike ride to check that all is well. I will do that right after I kick this post off.

Tonight is the Welcome Dinner. Tomorrow is bag check.

As for registration, I arrived in town yesterday at 3 pm after a 6.5 hour drive (caught in construction traffic). That was just early enough to register. I was pleased to see an efficient moving along of the whole process such that the lines were short and moving fast. Nice job, volunteers. I picked up my stuff, saw a club mate who is also racing, and hit up the Ironman store. And I’m proud to say that I spent a total of zero dollars. Zero. Although I have to admit that there were sparse few branded products baring the IMLP logo, mainly because shipments have not arrived in town just yet (according to a sign), and I do want to eventually pick up either a polo, which I do for every big race, and/or a tech shirt, which I also do for all big races.

Ironman events are curious. You have some very fit people prancing the town around, many of whom are down to earth and very good people, and then you have a handleful, by no means a majority, who carry an ego the size of Whiteface Mountain.

I love talking to first timers, who tend to be in awe of the whole experience. Many of the vets have really great stories, especially the fast ones, of battle wounds and even victory laps. Fun stuff. Here, today, is Ironman all the time. That is what Ironman does to a town. It takes it over. Completely. And entirely.

The coach in me has been working very hard on getting me ready for the race. He has instilled in me the notion that I must approach the bike course exactly as I had in my first two Ironman — that is, I must go easy, I must set as a goal to run the entire marathon rather than a fast bike split. If I can do that, I will have a decent race. But on a course where the Pro’s will only avg 21-22 mph on the bike, where in others they go 25-27, a decent race will be on the slower side. And that is what I’ve been trying to wrap my head around so that I don’t push the pace just because I see a low number on my bike computer. I think I’m there. But I’m still coaching. Either way, I’m ready.

Anyway, Tithers has a few photos.

Hopefully I’ll get a chance to post again tomorrow.

Ironman Lake Placid Tracking

On Sunday, July 20, 2008, I will bob in the waters of the starting line at Ironman Lake Placid (www.ironmanusa.com). I have trained hard for this event and am excited for the challenge of the course and what the day may bring.

 

As I’ve shared this journey with many of you, I am happy to report I can share the final leg. So come Sunday, you can track my progress in the race via Ironman Live (www.ironman.com).

 

Ironman Live will provide athlete splits for each of the disciplines (click link for Track an Athlete) as well as a live video feed (click Live Video) at various stages on the course so that, yes, you can even watch me finish!

 

Ironman is…

 

Swim 2.4 miles. Bike 112 miles. And run 26.2 miles. One after another. In one day. Midnight cut-off, the curtain draws. The event is… Inspiring. Awesome. Inconceivable. Long. Grueling. Powerful! That is Ironman. That is the dream. And that is what I will attempt to do.

 

Ironman Lake Placid is known to be among, if not the, toughest Ironman courses. The bike course is filled with long pace-killing climbs where you’re pedaling so slowly a sturdy breeze could blow you over, and descents so fast you’re on your brakes because the bike shakes when it goes above 50 mph. And the run course tops if off with rolling terrain and good climbs. In short, it is a bear.

 

So please send me strong thoughts, for I will need them, and I will lean on them when the going gets tough, because in a race as grueling as Ironman, the going will get tough, and my race plan will fall apart…. It’s the nature of a race so long.

 

Athlete Tracker

 

1) Go to www.ironman.com on Sunday. The front page will have a link to the Ironman Lake Placid/USA Tracker. Click on “Track an Athlete” and enter Bib Number 840, or search by First Name (Thor) or Last Name (Kirleis).

 

2) A live video feed will also be available. Click around on the site, you’ll find it… and then look for me:

 

Swim: I will wear a full-sleeved Orca wetsuit. Wetsuit is black with the words “Orca” across the front. I’ll buy you a beer if you spot me.

 

Bike: I will be wearing my red Trifury uniform consisting of a dinky red Tri-top (aka my “sports bra”) and black with red on the sides Tri-shorts. My bike is a silver Tri-bike. I’ll buy you a beer if you spot me on the bike, too.

 

Run: Same uniform as on the bike. I will also likely be wearing a white visor (or perhaps a dark colored one) and my Rudy Project sunglasses (white w/blue reflective tint).

 

Photos on my blog of me in my race gear:

http://ironboy.wordpress.com/2008/06/17/mooseman-08-photos/

 

Estimated Times

 

Ironman is long. Race starts at 7 AM EST. It officially ends at midnight. So I have 17 hours to power myself 140.6 miles.

 

My goal is to finish feeling good about my performance, whatever that time may be. I, of course, want it to be quick and speedy, but Ironman is too long a race… anything can happen. Taking my best guess, expect me to finish in as early as 10:30 or sooner (absolute race of my life) and as late as 14:00 (something went seriously wrong). I will venture to say 10:45-11:30. But know that I will do everything in my power to break 11 hours.

 

Estimated Completion Times:

 

Race Start: 7 AM EST

Swim: 1:10-1:20 (8:20 AM)

T1: 10 minutes (8:30 AM)

Bike: 6:00 (2:30 PM – hope to go as far under 6 as possible, but bike course is hilly, and slow)

T2: 5 minutes (2:35 PM)

Run: 3:20-5:00 (5:55-7:35 PM – My goal is to run 3:30, ultimate would be 3:25 or under, but if bike course took too much out of me, figure a death-march walk of up to 5 hours)

Finish: 10:55-12:35 (5:55-7:35 PM)

 

Regardless of how I fair, even if something happens where I cannot finish, please do not feel badly for me because, at this point, I cannot lose. I can’t. I already won, for I am doing an Ironman. That is honor enough.

 

So crack a beer and watch me finish!

Team USA - July Update

Through the month of June and into the beginning of July, I find myself exactly where I want to be with in training. With Ironman Lake Placid all-too-near on horizon, now just over a week away, I am happy to report that I have successfully completed all of my big workouts in preparation for my 3^rd Ironman.

 

And that’s just it. Even though I am very excited about going to Holland with Team USA to complete in the 2008 ITU Long Course World Championship at the end of August, Ironman Lake Placid has taken all of my attention as I fine-tuned and then wrapped up training for this mid-July race.

 

Because IMLP has been nearly all-consuming, this update will focus mostly on that race, but I will also touch on Team USA happenings.

 

Ironman Lake Placid

 

It is hard to believe that in just over a week’s time, I will bob in the waters of the starting line of my third Ironman. To think that I have already completed two of these grueling endurance events boggles my mind, as if it were someone else with this experience, while I sat from above and watched. But it’s true! It was me. The memories and lessons learned tell me so. And now I’m about to partake on another 140.3 mile journey.

 

Just the other day, Heather, the Ironmate, said, “Wow, I can’t believe Lake Placid [the Ironman] is already here. This event seems so different than your first two. It feels to me like just another of your races. Like, ‘There goes Thor, off to another race.’”

 

As much as I don’t want to admit it, the Ironmate is right. Lake Placid is different. Maybe it’s because I have the experience of two of these intense challenges under my belt. Or maybe it’s because I know what Ironman is all about, where I’m no longer caught in the mystique of the event and what it takes and means, where I have progressed from ‘I just want to finish’ to ‘Just finishing is nice, and I’ll gladly take that, but I want to finish fast.’

 

Whatever it is, I am very excited about Lake Placid, and although I do have goals and dreams for this race, I am also still very proud to be there, very respectful of my good fortune and health, and extremely appreciative of all of the people in my life who support me and my ways. The list is long, but on the very top is Heather, my running buddies especially John, Team LIT, Trifury, my sponsor Rudy Project, and more.

 

Training

 

Training to date has gone very well. I am happy to report that I have completed all of my quality workouts with high energy, great motivation, and a yearning to punch forward. I am ready for Placid. But I can also wait for it – as opposed to being on edge and just wanting to ‘get the damn thing over with.’ It is a very good place to be. Because in my other Ironman events, I fell on the other side; I couldn’t wait for the event to come so that I could get it over with, for I was on the verge of being totally over-trained and completely burned out.

 

Not so this time. I cannot wait to see how I will react in the mass start of the swim, how I will feel on the second loop of the bike course, and my favorite, how I will respond in the marathon, the true test of all the training, experience, and .

 

Swim

 

To date, I have numerous swims of Ironman distance (2.4 miles) and am only feeling better at that distance and getting stronger. It’s really amazing, and maybe I should say ‘finally,’ but I am getting to the point on the swim much like where I am with the bike and run, where I can push hard, “dip into the well” and still recover and push on again later, and I know none of it will put me too far out of it with fatigue.

 

Normally I fret the water conditions, but after last month’s weekend away in Lake Placid where I swam the swim course, I know that even if a storm comes on race day, Mirror Lake, site of the swim, is too small to yield anything even remotely close to the horror that was the swim at Ironman Coeur d’Alene in 2007, where conditions were so bad Ironman granted an option to athletes for a duathlon only. I didn’t take it; I swam, but that memory haunts.

 

So that just leaves the chaos of 2500 other athletes in a mass start, my sole source of angst.

 

Bike

 

My goal coming into this Ironman was to not go crazy on the bike with more crazy long rides than needed. I firmly believe that once you achieve a certain level of fitness, too many of those crazy long rides does nothing but burn you out and rob you of your speed. So I set a goal to do only 2 or 3, tops, rides of 100 miles or long.

 

I hit all three: My first century ride for Placid was in May, and then in June I got two more, giving me three in total. None of these rides were on terrain mirroring that of the Lake Placid bike course, which is much hillier with greater climbs, but at this point I’m good with that. Because there is only so much I could do. Pace during these rides has only improved. So that’s another area I’m pleased with. And on the last two rides, it wasn’t until after mile 70 when things got ugly, but on the last, I held very strong through 80 miles, which is good because on all of these I was pushing pace most of the way – they were not just “Sunday strolls to the ice cream stand.”

 

I will get through the bike course, but it will be slow, as the climbs on the course are just too long, and the places in between don’t allow much for getting in a groove for too long.

 

Run

 

I’m good on the run. Having complete the Lake Placid Marathon in June to a tune of 3:02, good for 4^th place overall, my run training is exactly where I want it. I have been hammering my brick runs at a solid pace, and I’ve inserted some serviceable hill work – just enough to give me benefit – so my tempo pace is solid. After the 100 mile rides I inserted a five mile brick run. In the first one, I ran strong but was starting to bonk in the heat; the second was solid in pace and in how I felt, which was good to get under my belt because I was coming off a bike ride in which I pushed pace the entire way.

 

As good as I feel about my run, the interesting thing, and this is more a reflection of the nature of the Ironman distance, the run is the part I’ve been thinking about most, because the run is the part that, if I can even run by that point, I have to mentally prepare for. The pain of holding on to pace at both Ironman Wisconsin 2006 and especially Ironman Coeur d’Alene 2007 is raw in my mind, and probably still raw in my body for how it hurt so much. But I am ready to fight the beast that is the Ironman marathon. All 26.2 miles of it. I am stronger than it. I will not let up. I will be smart. I will assess as I go along. I will keep my breathing under control. I will stay within myself. I will not hit the hills too hard. And I will go on to run the marathon. All of it. Yes, I am ready.

 

Gearing

 

In my “Team USA – June Update,” I reported that I would try a few different gearing options. I did. And I decided to go with a rear cassette of 12/25 rather than the 11/23 I had on. The 25 will give me that extra gear in case I need it, and on top of that, it actually gives me another riding gear in other ranges where I prefer to keep it in the big chain ring. So I will go with the 12/25 in the back and then promptly switch back to the 11/23 following the race. Because the course at Worlds is flat.

 

Race Plan & Goals

 

My ultimate goal at the Iron distance is to one day make an attempt at breaking the 10 hour barrier. Although I believe I could do that today on a flat course providing I had a great day – not to mention a lot of luck slanted toward a race of a lifetime – this will not happen in Lake Placid. The LP bike course is just too slow. The hills are so long that the time you lose going up is never made up for in the time you gain going back down. Placid is a course where the Pro’s will average 21 mph, maybe 22, where in flatter Ironman bike courses, the Pro’s are pulling off 23-25 mph. It’s a slow course. And I need a fast course to get even close to 10 hours.

 

I will go to Lake Placid and as long as I am smart with hydration and nutrition and pacing, and the weather cooperates, I will have the race I am trained for. Being such a long distance, it’s hard to tell what that race might be, but I’ll try to give it a shot, and on top of that I’ll give ranges for worst case and best case – best being the “reasonable” top end I think I can get, worst being the hills or the day were just too tough.

 

Swim: I feel I am comfortably trained to do the swim in 1:15. As long as I can survive the mass start and find clean water, I will get that. Best case is I go 1:10, but if that happened, I might lose a lot of time in T1 because I’ll be celebrating so much. Anything under is a dream. 1:20 is a good bet. Anything slower and something happened or I couldn’t find a rhythm or get comfortable.

TOP: 1:10

REAL: 1:15

OKAY: 1:20

BAD: 1:25+

 

T1: The bikes are a long way from the water. LP is known for T1 times being very long. My goal is to get this under 10 minutes. Under 12 minutes and I’ll still be happy. Anything slower and, well, you’ll know that I either stopped to read the sports section of the local paper or sat in the stink chamber for some time.

TOP: 9:00 or Under

REAL: 11:00

OKAY: 12:00

BAD: 13:00+

 

Bike: Major wild card. I honestly have very little to go on due to the nature of the course. The course is challenging. It is filled with massive up hills, and crazy down hills, that last for much longer than anything I’ve trained on in a very long time. There are several 25 minute climbs or longer. And there’s one down hill that is so fast most athletes will be purposely braking to slow themselves down, for it can get hairy and scary.

 

My plan is to go easy on the first loop of the bike course. The second loop will be the same, but I’m hoping that going easy on the first loop, staying seated and in an easy gear on the climbs, will leave me with enough energy to not slow down too much. I will shoot for even splits for the two laps. That’s hard. But I will try. And only when I feel I can push will I do so. Though I have a feeling, due to the topology of the course, that time may never come.

 

Picking times is hard to do because I will ride by feel, not by what my bike computer shouts at me. So thinking about the course, I think it’s reasonable to stick with a 6 hour bike. If I average 19 mph, that’s 5:54. I pulled a 19.1 mph split at IMCdA, but that course was much faster than this. So although I’m stronger, I will likely not equal that on this course. But I will try.

TOP: 5:50 or Under

REAL: 5:59 – Sure, not far from TOP, but that’s the goal, under 6 hours.

OKAY: 6:20

BAD: 6:30

 

T2: Transition from bike to run should be swift, unlike T1. Since it’s Ironman, and since the transition really is a true transition period in your body, much more than any other distance triathlon, T2 tends to be slower. I hope to be speedy, but I will take my time, for I’ll be on my feet for a long time to come in the run.

TOP: 3:00

REAL: 5:00

OKAY: 6:00

BAD: 8:00+

 

Run: Gosh, the run is always a great unknown in Ironman. I mean, the question is loaded with qualifiers, such as, “If I can run, I am capable of this… if I can run, I’ll do that.” And that’s just it. If I can run… I hope to nail my pacing and hydration and nutrition so that I can run. My goal is to run the entire marathon. Sure, I’ll walk through many of the aid stations, but I want to run. And I will do what I can do make that happen. But this is also the part that hurts the most. Especially when you’re still running. Because if you’re still running in those late miles, you’re likely holding on for dear life and have been holding on for a long time to get to that point. I hope to be there again, and I will lean on my previous Ironman marathons, and even my experience in holding onto the run at Mooseman this year, to get me through. It’s going to hurt, but I am ready.

 

As for the course itself, it is a very challenging run course for an Ironman marathon. Standalone it isn’t too bad, but after riding so far, it’s a bear. So my time might be on the slower side, even if I have a good run.

 

I hope to come off the bike in good enough shape to pull off a 3:30 marathon. If I feel good, I will start out at 8:00 minute miles, or maybe I’ll force myself to 8:15. I will stay with this as best I can through mile 5, and even if I happen to feel better, I will try my best to keep it under control, especially my breathing. The only way I’ll let myself go faster is if that pace truly feels way too easy and I’m having just way too much fun. Sitting at 8:00 to 8:15’s through 10 miles will hopefully give me enough in the tank to pull off a negative split. Negatively splitting a standalone marathon is tough, so you can imagine exactly how tough it is to do it in an Ironman marathon. I will try. Again, I will try unless the early miles really feel just way too easy.

 

If at any time I start to hit the wall hard, and I lose a lot of time walking deep in misery, if I feel I can’t keep my finish under 12 hours, then I will dial all effort back, get my energy back under me, get my smile and wits back, and I’ll start a party with the crowd and have fun the rest of the way in.

TOP: 3:20

REAL: 3:30

OKAY: 3:50

BAD: 4:15+

 

Totals

 

TOP: Race of a lifetime. These are times based on a ray of light shining on my every stroke, pedal, and step.

REAL: Real goals. These are the times for which I believe I am training, so if I’m good with pacing and hydration and nutrition, and I make smart in-race decisions, this is what I believe I am capable of. And what I will strive for.

OKAY: Good day, but the course and/or day was a little more than I thought, and more than I training for as long as I was good with everything else.

BAD: Something went wrong. I’m either plodding in a serious death march or already conceding defeat from a finish time perspective and having a wild celebration on the course.

 

TOP: 10:22

REAL: 11:00

OKAY: 11:48 (Adjusted to 11:59 or under)

BAD: 12:22 (Adjusted to 12:30 or over)

 

Team USA

 

Coming soon.

Team USA - June Update

June has been an exceptionally busy yet highly productive month as I get ready for Ironman Lake Placid, now only a month away, and after that the 2008 ITU Long Course World Championship in Almere, Holland at the end of August.

 

Training has gone smooth, with many key workouts including a few long swims of Ironman distance, a few long rides, one close to Ironman distance, and a marathon.

 

Racing, a key indicator of on-edge fitness, has yielded great results and given me much confidence as I hammer toward the heart of my season.

 

I am exactly where I originally wanted to be in training and racing and in my confidence. But the place is now changing. There is another place I want to be.

 

After a training weekend away in Lake Placid to run a marathon – where I am proud to say I finished in 4^th place, the highest I have in any serious (enough) event of 250 or more competitors – and swim and bike the Ironman course, I have renewed focus moving to and through Lake Placid, and then another change as I launch into Worlds.

 

Cycling one loop of the Ironman course was eye-opening. The hills were a bit longer than I thought, and there was not nearly as much room to get into a groove. That alone doesn’t bother me. But what was eye-opening was the fact that the bike course is not at all fast. My bike split time, compared to what I had originally wanted, will definitely be on the slower side. This somewhat disappointing because coming into this year I wanted to better the bike split I did at last year’s Ironman Coeur d’Alene, a hilly course but one much faster than IMLP.

 

So the change is, really, within – to accept the fact that I will not be fast. Once I understand this, I will be more apt to pace myself fairly so that I can put myself in position to run the entire marathon, an important goal for me.

 

Also coming into this event, I held out false hopes of coming close to the 10 hour barrier. I knew I wouldn’t break it – not on the LP bike course – but I was hoping to at least better my CdA time. That might not happen. But I will try, only now that I know the course is tough and all-too-slow, I am now better prepared to not fight the slower start and splits. Instead, I hope to position myself so that I can work with it.

 

This is not to say the course is a beast. It is not. The hills are trainable. But it is not a fast course. The hills are just too long and right on the edge of being too steep for the low-gear grind that they are… hence the change in focus.

 

From now until Lake Placid, my plan is to tackle some serious hill workouts. I won’t go crazy with stupid bike mileage, but in keeping with the quality-only theme I will instead beat my legs into hill shape on shorter rides by doing repeats in a controlled manner. The goal is to get even stronger on the hills so that they don’t take more than their fair share out of me. I also hope to get more efficient in climbing, and in lieu of this, I plan to test a few different gearing options to see which is best for me.

 

After Lake Placid, I will knock off the hill repeats, knock off the crazy-stupid long rides, and instead focus on building more speed with tough intervals on inclines, on downs, into the wind, etc. I will use the same training methodologies in that month as I did last year in my preparation for the Ironman 70.3 World Championship in Clearwater, Florida, where I totally hammered the bike.

 

In this way, Lake Placid will lay the base and deep strength, and then the month after will layer nicely on top a higher end speed coupled with even more endurance speed so that I can hold it for even longer.

 

One thing certain in all of this is that I still cannot believe I have been selected to be a part of Team USA and represent my country, the United States of America, in what is truly a world class event. I shake my head all the time at my good fortune. Often I wonder: why me? While at other times I wonder: why not me? But you can bet that they have picked the right person. Not only will I go out to Holland and give it my all, you know I’ll be smiling the whole way, even if only on the inside, and also soaking up the experience yet presenting a professional yet friendly face in my job in representing the red, white, and blue!

 

Wow, am I excited!

 

Team USA Updates

 

Much to my surprise, there still has yet to be substantial updates regarding Team USA. Aside from a monthly newsletter keeping everyone informed, there isn’t all that much more. I’m starting to understand that this is because USAT, the governing body of USA Triathlon, is a smaller-type shop, where they are mainly busy with the other happenings, especially the Short Course World Championship in Vancouver that just happened. Now that they’re back in house, we are seeing more communication, such as the last one in making sure everyone has travel arrangements down.

 

Team USA Uniform

 

You have got to see the Team USA uniform. It rocks! Red, white and blue, of course, but get this… I also have to have my “family name” splashed across the front, “above the country code,” and across the “buttocks.” How freak’n cool is that!

 

The uniform, best I can see, will be the exact same used a few weekends ago by Team USA athletes at the Short Course World Championship.

 

Trust me, it’s cool. And it’s probably the one thing I am MOST looking forward to.

 

My secret hope is that I get the uniform by the 4^th of July holiday so that at my annual family reunion I can show it. The kids will dig it. And I will dig answering their questions: “Uncle Thor, how long is the bike course, and do you still have to run afterwards?”

 

Wow. Still can’t believe it.

 

Holland Travel

 

Heather and I are now pretty much all set with our travel plans to and from Holland. Airfare is booked. We fly out of Boston on Saturday, August 23, a week and a day before the event, and arrive in Amsterdam on Sunday, the 24^th. We still have to figure out what to do with my bike, which I will carry on the plane, since we plan to spend Monday through Wednesday doing touristy things in the city. Then on Wednesday we’ll head to Almere a few miles east of Amsterdam to the Team USA hotel. The remainder of the time will be devoted to Team USA duties and getting prepared to have the race of my life and do my country proud. I will kick ass. You watch! Then on Monday, once all is done, we will head home. We’d like to spend even more time in Holland, but with Heather having started a new job with little vacation, and with the dollar being anything but strong, we’ll wrap it up.

 

More soon… Go Team USA!

Lake Placid Marathon Photos

Photos from the Lake Placid Marathon on June15, 2008, where I lolligagged through half in 1:34:00 in about 11th place and, seeing how far I was up front, worked my way all the way to 4th place overall with a 1:28:57 second half good for a 3:02:57.

A very fun yet entirely lowkey challenging but certainly doable course. But insert this at the end of a 2.4 mile swim and 112 mile bike, and it will suck. Badly.

Mile 2 - Settling into good conversation among my new Iron hooligan pals.

Mile 2 - Running with Eric (shirtless) through mile 7.

Mile 2 - Moving over to the side of the road for the second aid station.

Mile 16 - On the prowl, clawing my way from 12th place to as far as I could get.

Mile 22 - After clawing my way into 4th place, feeling surprisingly good but now running on edge.

Mile 22 - The heat on the day was growing, but with ample aid stations and a keen eye on my hydration and nutrition, I was only thinking about how far up the road the guy in 3rd place was. I was sure I would get him!

Olympic Oval - Streaming around a lap of the Olympic Oval with finish line in sight. Never nabbed 3rd place, but still, I was happy with how I felt and the performace. Solid run all around.

Finish - Hammering through the finish line chute, finishing at the same time as a half marathoner.

Finish - Done.

Finish - Official Chip Time: 3:02:57, 4th Place Overall.

For coming in 4th Place Overall, I was awarded a nice glass-looking trophy plus a Fuel Belt. The Ironmate, who’s in need of a hydration system, was pysched. So was I!