Suzanne's Ironman Lake Placid Race Report
Okay, I have to start off this (long) post with a pic of the EN Chicas at the race:
Stats
Swim: 1:05:18
T1: 6:17
Bike: 6:56:09
T2: 4:23
Run: 4:44:03
Total: 12:56:10
Swim
EN Member Marianne Park had posted tips to Facebook the night before and recommended swinging wide on the first loop of the swim so upon entering the water I swam all the way to the opposite shore. I pushed myself up to the front and got in the third row. The guy next to me pointed out a break in the tree line to sight. By starting to the right, he said, we were going to attack the turnaround from an angle and avoid a lot of the crowd. “Don’t let them push you over toward the rope!” he said. Okay!
The start was bumpy but only mildly frustrating. As expected, about 400 meters out I had to fight my way past huge throngs of guys who had sprinted ahead and were now petering out. After the turnaround things thinned out considerably.
Throughout the swim I kept it really easy. The elbow pain never made it past the “annoying” threshold and there were only a few times when I tweaked it funny. Anytime I felt myself start to pick up the effort and stroke stronger I’d immediately back off, thinking “I have no need to be a hero and go fast here.” With about 400 meters left to go I thought, “Holy sh*t, I’m about to really start this thing…can’t I just keep swimming???” The swim was so easy and enjoyable… I love swimming…
Anyway, I glanced at my watch as I ran to transition and noted that I’d gone really fast compared to what I’d guesstimated I might swim. Yeah! In the changing tent I watched Carly plop herself in the row right in front of me. I was super psyched about how fast we’d gone – she seemed relieved to be out of the “washing machine.”
Bike
On the bike out of town I played it really cool – I had seen and felt the rain on the swim and didn’t feel the need to hurry down the hills and around the corners. A quick review of my vitals confirmed that I had floated through the swim – my HR was low, my arms and legs weren’t buzzing, I was breathing through my nose – all good.
The bike was my biggest fear. For weeks I’ve been lecturing myself, “Don’t f*ck up the bike!” but I’ve also had unusually high anxiety about the bike disintegrating underneath me (residual trauma from the accident for sure). Plus I’ve just felt really, really, REALLY burnt out on riding these last two months. So my fears were 1) screwing up my pacing and/or nutrition, therefore dooming the marathon; 2) breaking, blowing, or flatting something that I couldn’t fix on the fly; and 3) not being able to physically and/or mentally handle 112 miles. When I saw Dana before the swim and voiced these concerns, she reminded me that the power meter was my box and I just needed to keep my eyes on it and stay on my watts. I replayed that advice throughout the entire bike leg.
I hated the descent – too wet, too crowded, too long to hang on for dear life. My arms got soooo tired. On the flats after Keene, I was passing enormous numbers of cyclists. I thought I was going way too hard but every time I’d look down at my computer I’d be a good 5 or 10 watts under my goal wattage. EN advice is to always look for ways to do less than you have to on race day, so I decided that if I felt good but was under then I was just going to stay there and squirrel away some matches for later.
Some things I saw at this point on the bike: Huge draft packs. A guy wearing a trash bag (Patrick was not kidding!). A guy who passed me on a descent while crouched waaaaay down on his bike – he was sitting on his down tube – and then hooked onto the wheel of another cyclist and proceeded to draft off of him for a few miles. And some bandit cyclists wearing Columbia Triathlon Association gear who got in the way of the racers.
The climb into Wilmington was actually fun. I’d previewed it with Eric V. on Thursday, so I knew what to expect. I saw Patrick and Keith on this stretch – these were the first ENers I’d seen since the changing tent and it felt so great to hear familiar voices. But at this point in the race my stomach started feeling really gassy. I’ve had this problem before and dehydration has (supposedly) been the culprit. My watch was set to beep every 15 minutes to remind me to eat and drink but I decided that I would take sips of water every 5 minutes just to make sure I was steadily getting in enough water. As a result, I was peeing a lot on the course – I think I stopped 4 times to pee. Right before the end of the first loop I decided to switch earlier than planned to Hammer Gel in case the concentrated Infinit was the culprit. This definitely helped – I pulled my spare gel flask from Special Needs so that I would have enough calories on the bike given that I was semi-ditching Infinit. During the second loop I diluted my 2nd Infinit bottle and alternated that with Hammer. But still, the last ten miles of the bike course were pretty painful, tummy-wise.
At the top of Papa Bear I saw Dana’s family in their tie-dye shirts. So fun! They whooped it up and made me feel like a rock star. Then I was thrilled to see Chris G after the turn. Seriously, if I think about the highlights of my race, most of them involve the people I saw along the way. Familiar faces became really, really important on race day.
After the first loop I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. This course was a piece of cake! It was easy to hold my watts on the hills and – except for the rollers between Wilmington and the Bears – I was actually having fun riding the bike.
Overall, I took the bike easier than I “should” have. My goal watt was 133 but I ended the race with an NP of 125 and an IF of .66. I feel great about that – much better to have gone too easy than too hard, plus now I feel like I have some wiggle room on the swim and the bike to push slightly harder the next time (er…if there is a next time).
Run
Still, riding into and running out of T2 was probably the lowest point of my entire race. My stomach hurt, my legs were pooped, and my confidence had dipped because the last 10 miles of the bike felt like they'd taken forever. In the weeks leading up to the race I felt like I couldn’t wait to start the run – it would mean I was finished swimming and biking and was starting the part of the course where I was completely in control. But here I was, running, and feeling totally awful. I saw Patrick and Chris G right as I ran out of transition and Patrick asked me how I was doing. I was, uh, honest in my response. (I love racing in this way – you have permission to be completely filthy all day long and completely indecorous in your response to “How are you doing?”)
My run unfolded perfectly. I walked 30 steps every aid station and, amazingly, was able to keep these walk breaks to about 30 steps throughout the entire race. The only other part I walked was the steep hill in town (both loops) and half of the hill after the River Rd turn (only on the 2nd loop). I figure I walked less than a mile of the entire marathon. Thankfully, the tendinitis that has dogged me since February never flared up. At about mile 20 my right hip flexor started to stiffen up so that walking became pretty difficult – I couldn’t effectively swing my right leg forward. But running was much less painful – so perversely, the hip flexor was helping me by forcing me to run.
I saw Patrick on the first loop – he yelled something about running on hills…er, I don’t know. He could have recited the alphabet; I was just so excited to see someone I knew. Kitima ran with me for a few steps up the last hill into town at the end of the first loop. I think I said positive things.
The miles from 13 to 18 were about just getting to mile 18, aka The Line. I’d whine to myself and then say, “Shut up, you’re not even at The Line!” Then mile 18 came…and it didn’t really feel all that worse than mile 17. I started counting the number of people I was passing at some point then and I’d chant the number in my head with every footfall: 1….1….1….1….2…2…2…3…etc. When I got into the bigger numbers I’d spend time thinking about what was more efficient, chanting “twenty-four” (three syllables) or “two-four” (two syllables). Then I’d hit a new number, say 27, which added a whole ‘nother syllable to the chant. And so it went – I needed to disassociate at this point in the race so I let my thoughts take these twists and turns and before I knew it I was at the end of River Rd and on the way back. Once I hit 100 I was around mile 23 and entering “civilization” again so I stopped counting. By the way, The Line came and clobbered me over the head at mile 21.5.
The last few miles were brutal and that last out-and-back along Mirror Lake Drive was created by the devil. Even seeing my parents at this point wasn’t enough to lift my spirits. I felt like I should feel great because I was close to finishing but I couldn’t muster up any feeling that was in any way close to positive….until I hit the split where the finishers broke off and entered the oval. Oh hallelujah. Bit by bit the pain and fatigue broke off my legs and I was running stronger and stronger and stronger…and then I rounded the final curve and saw the finish chute and the clock with a big old “12” on the front. Leading up to this I have visualized finishing and seeing a great time on the clock and it actually came true. I’m not much for celebrating the ends of my races but I definitely hollered and waved my arms around a bunch. Truly one of the best moments of my life.
But remember how I was saying that I was trying to hydrate on the bike and peeing a lot? I kept hydrating on the run and peeing a lot. To the tune of twice an hour. I knew I needed salt, so I was sucking salt off of pretzels, downing Coke and Perform, and drinking chicken broth every time it was offered, especially on the second loop of the run. But I was afraid to stop drinking water even though I knew I didn’t need it. About 20 minutes after finishing the race I crashed and wound up in the medical tent with low blood pressure caused by low sodium and potassium levels (still within normal limits but the low end of normal). I didn’t receive any real intervention - I couldn’t keep down chicken broth and they didn’t want to give me much fluid via IV – but over several hours my body eventually righted itself on its own while many nice medical folks watched.
I’ve done a lot of thinking about how I screwed this up. I still need to figure out the gas issue and what’s causing that. In terms of hydration, I would have been better off carrying my water on me. I train with a waist pack water bottle and somehow just know when to drink – but in the race there’s an aid station every freakin’ mile. Having water in my face that much proved to be my downfall. At first I thought I hadn’t consumed enough salt but thinking back on the S!Caps on the bike and everything I consumed on the run I think the salt was right – the water wasn’t. Also, I suspect I would not have crashed if I had just kept walking and walking and walking after finishing. It was only when I sat down that I got sick.
So, some room for improvement there but overall not a huge blemish on the experience since it didn’t interfere with the race itself. I feel a huge sense of accomplishment about how I executed – just looking at my splits and how relatively even they are (knowing that they also include more and more bathroom breaks as the race went on) shows me that I played it right. Plus, I ran. the. whole. thing. 
Many thanks to all of my EN teammates and coaches and of course my family who came out to cheer me on. Love you all!!!
Comments
OK, that's it. In Madison, I want to be you.
I want to execute that stinkin' bike like you did, and walk those 30 steps and have it be enough. CONGRATS, Suzanne!!! Holy rockin' race. You had stuff to overcome, and clearly you did--and then some. WONDERFUL!!!! And so happy for you!
Hi Suzanne! Congratulations! Great report too; Im like em detailed.
I totally know how you felt about the bike. I was the same way in CDA. I knew that if I could just get through the bike, I could finish, so I was nail biting the ride for weeks.
Way to tough it out at the end in the run. I have yet to experience a horrible run at the end an Ironman. Somehow I was on cloud nine for the last few miles of my one and only IM. After my experience in the half this weekend, Im dreading showing up to the run in the same state next year at CDA and having to do twice as much.
Good work again!
" How I screwed this up?"
ARE YOU KIDDING ME???!!!
Great, great race and report. I think you raced like someone with many IMs under their belt. To steal Linda's line, I wanna be YOU!!
Great race and report. Well done managing the highs and lows of the day; we all have them.
Higher sodium intake was one of the last pieces of success to IM for me; it sounds like you'll need to increase yours as well. It stopped me from having to pee so frequently, an extra bonus.
Hey Suzanne, you had a great race, no if, ands, buts, shoulda, coulda, wouldas about it. It was great to meet you after months of training together virtually. You had a laser like focus when I saw you on the run. I can relate to the frequent peeing, I had that problem in 2008. Not sure what your scap intake was, but mine was 1 every 30' for most of the day. I'm sure Kitima, aka Sgt. Sodium can get you dialed in on that.
Isn't it amazing how the oval instantly makes our legs feel fresh?
Congratulations on a tremendous day. Savor it.
Dave
P
Congratulations on a race well done, chica!
Let me know if you want to talk about sodium or GI gas...
It was also nice meeting you and Eric while I was driving in to town and you two were checking out the course.
Great job on the race. Wow, you were so focused on the run you didn't even flinch when I yelled "EN Chicas Rule!!" to you.
You're going to be someone to even more seriously contend with, once you nail your nutrition.
You've been my hero and inspiration for a long time now... now everyone knows why! I'm so proud of you, Suzuki! Congratulations... can't wait to see you and celebrate with you Friday! And hope you can offer me lots of words of wisdom as I prep for my #1... if I do half as well as you I'll be pretty darn pleased with myself. AWESOME!
Suzanne- You did awesome! It's not easy- EVER! I want to execute like you!
For what it's worth- I can NOT use concentrated Infinit. Just did my RR#1 for IMWI with 1.5 hours per bottle, so slightly concentrated. It went well, but I can't have a 2 or 3 hour bottle. For some of us, I think that is the reality.
Really though, you managed your day really well. You have every reason to be proud....and I'm with Gina - What did you mess up? I think you executed really well.
Hope you are enjoying your well earned recovery, and focusing on improving your cornhole record!
Suzanne -
Such an inspiration - thanks for sharing about the tough parts of the run! That is something I am trying to visualize for myself.
Followed you online during the day, you executed like a pro!!
Aimee