Discipline Makes the Difference

At Ironman Lake Placid 2011, I had a "good time". That means different things to different people. For some people, 9:52, 11:05, 11:10 or 11:45 is a good time for Ironman Lake Placid. 14:14 would be a bad time. Line dancing with the two Ford Motivational Mile girls four times on the run course would be a good time for some people. Going 12 miles an hour with a tail wind from Ausable Forks back to 86 would be a bad time. Though my goal when I signed up for IMLP 2011 was sub-12 hours and I finished with a 14:14:25, I had a good time. And, the view from the back of the pack of all the good times ahead of me, was beautiful. I am in awe of my fellow DC Tri members and IronHouse mates... Philip Schmidt, Janie Hayes, Bryan Frank, Travis Siehndel... AJ Morrison, Susanna Torke, Karen Willard and most of all... Alejandro Escobar, who fully exemplified what Ironman is all about. The friendships are forever. Being an Ironman is something that can never be taken away. The finishers medal doesn't have your "time" on it. It is an artifact that symbolizes much more than the time on the clock when arriving at that magical place... a finish line at an Ironman. Getting to the Starting Line Arriving safe and sound in Lake Placid the week of the race was a victory in and of itself. In my three previous Ironman experiences, I only endured hardship one time. That was IMFL 2008 when I had a problem with my eyes (http://imfl2008.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html) about 2 1/2 months out from race day. I wound up PRing at that race. This year was a whole different experience. I'm at the tail end of the divorce process from my wife of 15 years. I have had full time custody of our teenage daughter since October 1, 2010. I started the year (post-IMLP signup) recovering from being hit by a motorist while training on the bike. I was out of action for a month and my bike had to be repaired. I had knee surgery in February 2011. It was an arthroscopic procedure (http://imlp2011.blogspot.com/2011_02_01_archive.html) on my left knee. As training started ramping back up, my daughter had some issues related to the divorce of her parents and she attempted suicide right in front of me the evening of Sunday, April 17. Fortunately, it was an unsuccessful attempt and she was hospitalized for only a week. Since that time, she's gotten a lot of help and is thankfully in a much better place today. On Saturday, May 14, I wrecked my bike on a training ride in the rain and fell hard on my right shoulder and hip (http://imlp2011.blogspot.com/2011/05/surrender-i-havent-yet-begun-to-fight.html). They are both still sore today and the dinged shoulder caused me to ration my swim workouts leading up to race day. I didn't swim for the three weeks prior to arriving in Lake Placid. The knee surgery greatly curtailed my run training efforts which crested with a 14 miler two weeks out from race day and a 17 miler the Sunday before race day. Other than that, the long runs were assorted 9, 10 and 11 mile efforts. My daughter got mono causing me to miss a crucial Memorial Day weekend training camp up at Deep Creek Lake. I don't write all that to make excuses. I don't need an excuse. Let it be a lesson... that you can finish even when presented with many obstacles... the challenges that life throws our way. We've seen it on the annual NBC telecast of Kona every year. Assorted stories of valor of those striving to hear those words... YOU ARE AN IRONMAN... as they cross the finish line. This year was an eye opener for me... a first hand look at a real life example of a similar experience. Getting in the water on Sunday, July 24, from my perspective, you may as well have presented the finishers medal to me at that time. It was a miracle that I arrived on course intact and in good spirits. Week of Ironman A new experience for me this year was living in a house with triathletes during race week. What a great experience! I was truly with "my people". You could feel the energy building. The Tour de France was in its last days and we were all watching the stages in the Alps and exchanging analysis. The eating, sleeping and exercise habits of the triathlete are notorious and here I was with 15 other people going through similar rituals... I almost felt normal! Three people had ridden their bikes up to Lake Placid from Washington DC to support Janie Hayes. It was so cool to hear their stories and feed into the possibility of making a similar trip some day. We had an assortment of triathletes... a Kona qualifier, some first timers, age group placers and back of the packers. But we all had the same thing in common... the discipline required to toe the start line at an Ironman. Race Day Let me sum it up like this... IMLP is hard. I walked a long way to the start... I was nervous in the water prior to the cannon... but quickly relaxed when I spotted Sue and we enacted our plan to swim out together... my right calf cramped almost right away on the swim and when it released, it pretty much felt like it was on the verge of cramping the rest of the way... the swim was crowded but manageable... I like the get out of the water and get back in, unlike Arizona where you are 1.2 miles out and 1.2 miles back. I had an epic transition and on the bike... I played it way conservative and slowly went up out of town. I was surrounded by some 40 - 50 year old guys on the slow uphill climb and did a little Rodney Dangerfield routine, cracking up the whole crew. "Hey... I don't get no respect." I didn't break 40 on the downhill... feathering the rear brake most of the way down. I was making solid time on the first loop and started to ramp it up on the second loop. But, it started getting hotter and the sun seemed really close to the Earth. When we were coming back from Ausable on the out and back and hit the 90 mile sign, I started to feel like toast. I looked down and was going 12 miles an hour... on a flat stretch of road... and the wind was behind me. If I took more Hammer Gel or Accelerade I was going to throw up but I needed to nourish myself at that point before I got too close to the start of the run. I took the right onto 86, looked up the hill and got demoralized. I was in a dark place. If you're reading this part of the RR you probably know what I'm talking about. I wanted to quit. There, I said it. But you know what... I looked around and noticed the scenery. That is some beautiful country out there. Some people were banging drums on the uphill. A dude was building a shiny looking log cabin. The mountains... Whiteface commanding the horizon... the lush green landscape... the colors of the jerseys and tri bikes... all beautiful. I just dug in... big circles. Focus on your breathing. Next thing I knew, I was at the Haselton out and back... hurting... but still chugging along. I think miles 90 - 105 took me about 100 minutes. But I just kept going. I didn't give up. I rallied when I got to Little Cherry and actually busted into town at a nice pace. When I unclipped in T2, my right quad cramped and I was walking from my bike towards the T2 bags with a limp. A volunteer suggested medical... "we're just trying to get you guys out of here safe and sound" is what he said. No f**king way... just keep going. Epic transition #2 and I bolted out onto the run course. Less than a mile in, I approached my sister, her family, my mom and my daughter who were waiting for me. I slowed down to talk to them and pose for pictures and my daughter, Jessica Rose, grabbed me and said something like HTFU DAD! "C'mon... I'll run with you!" It makes me tear up just thinking about it. Just over three months (SUNDAY, April 17) before she had a 7" butcher knife at her neck and was screaming obscenities at me in our kitchen. She was so full of anger and I was engulfed in fear. Now... in the first mile on the run course... here she was, cheering me on... coaxing me to move my big, fat, white ass. In fact she asked me... "how old do you have to be to do Ironman? I want to do one." I answered "16" and took my pace up a notch leaving her behind. Another runner who overheard all of this chimed in, "I think you actually have to be 18 to do an Ironman." As I let all that sink in and headed out Route 73 on the first loop, a feeling came over me. It's ALL about the journey. I'm not trying diminish the accomplishments of those who excel on the timing mat on race day. What they did that day is AWESOME. The commitment, the discipline, the sacrifice... they are all very worthy of praise. But for me, on that day, the time was "right now"... being in the moment. I was physically able to swim... I could ride a bike... and I was able to run. And I was able to be a DAD... an inspiration to my little girl. "Finish time" really didn't matter at that point. Capturing that moment in time... being in that period of time was what became relevant. At that point, I just needed to manage my nutrition and effort to ensure that I crossed the finish line before midnight. And continue to have a good time. I encountered almost the whole DC Tri crew at some point on the run. I met a guy who was racing with his dad. He was confident he would beat his dad by a couple of hours. The "Canada" jersey guy and I traded places on the run course several times. I came across a woman that Bryan, Travis and I had helped out on Saturday when racking our bikes. We had a nice conversation. And those girls at the Ford Motivational Mile... "how you doin'?" When I did cross as the time on the clock read 9:14:25 pm, I spiked my Hammer Gel bottle and threw my hands up in the air. I was indeed, again... an Ironman. Four attempts... Four finishes. It was my slowest Ironman cycling time. It was my slowest marathon time. It was my worst Ironman finishing time. But... I had a good time out there. I didn't want it to end. Coming down that finishers chute... it's hard to communicate that feeling to someone who hasn't been there. The air is full of electricity. The hair on my neck and arms stands on end. You feel like you could keep running. Nobody watching cares what time it is. Conclusion I don't know if I'm ever going to do Ironman again. I suspect I will. But it won't be next year. It will be hard not to get Finish Line Fever again. I have too good of a time when I'm out there. I have too good of a time when I'm in training. The friendships I have struck up... the conversations on long training sessions. The things that I have found out about myself and life. Very useful information. It's a journey through time that probably doesn't have an end. And that elusive time (for me) is still out there... 11:59:59.

Discipline Makes the Difference

Tuesday, June 15, 2021

IMLP 2011 - Race Report

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Lake Placid Weather

Monday, July 18, 2011

Taper Week

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

IMLP Details

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Long Run - Two Weeks Out

Bike Rack

Monday, July 4, 2011

416 Miles Cycling in 9 Days