Race Report by: Rob Durnford

Ironman Lake Placid Race Report 2008

Standing in line the morning after Lake Placid Ironman 2007 where we watched good friend Mike do his first Ironman. Those wearing Finisher Shirts from the night before may be walking a little slowly, but their smile radiates. The finish line closed at midnight and at 8:30am, the registration for Ironman 2008 began and it was full by 10:30am.

364 days to go....

Walking away from registration is the beginnning of a journey with new goals, high aspirations and a lot of training, but after 5 Ironman, I know what I've gotten myself into. My friend Greg, who has never raced a triathlon before, doesn't have a bike and never trained for racing in the pool- has a different asset.

Fear.

Every Ironvirgin goes through a year of training afraid to miss a workout with the impending race coming at them- 3.8k Swim, 180km Bike and 42.2km Run.

Along with Greg and I are about 10 others, most of whom I train with regularly on the bike and in the pool- so we all look forward to the race a year away as an epic battle, with 11 months to get our bodies to peak condition. Well, that's always the goal, doesn't always work out that way, it depends on how much you want to sacrifice. If you check in with our group on a Tuesday night after swim practice, we demonstrate we are truly a Drinking team with Triathlon problem, with wings and nachos in great supply. The bike training with the group is described as being very social- until we get to the end of the driveway….

For me, the year starts off right, hiring a coach, who then comes in 3rd in her Age Group at the Ironman World Championship, a nice confirmation that my coach knows what she is talking about. A shoulder injury sidelines my swim training for 6 months, but that is not a big deal, I still get back to the pool by March to rebuild my swim endurance. But the closer that race day comes, my motivation wanes with successive problems with my knee injury and a calf injury find me standing race morning with
- a question in my mind if I will make it through the swim or have to be rescued due to my Exercise Induced Asthma.
- A strong bike
- Limitation on the run to 90-120minutes of running before my knee will force me to walk

Work weighed on most of us coming into the last few weeks of the race- with business travel, quarter ends, year ends and deadlines, but driving into Lake Placid in the latter part of Race Week washes it all away and your brain switches to what is coming on Sunday morning, 7am.

We had a great group out there for the race- Dave Martineau, a guy who doesn't seem to get enough training in, but is a gifted athlete and always performs on race day; John Ramsel, a guy who is so competitive, in June he outlasted all the other amateur riders in a charity ride with Lance Armstrong to be the last on Lance's wheel at the final breakaway; Spencer Lavis, who started doing Triathlon back in the 80's when none of us had heard of it; Karen Bonham, a swim coach who was looking for her spot for Ironman Hawaii; Mike Roine, who took my title of Fan Favourite away with his constant smile when he races; Bruce Weller an Ironvirgin who managed to train full time while looking for a new job: and Paul Pignatelli, another Ironvirgin, who due to injury, had to stop running for 6 weeks in as the race approached. Sadly missing from the team this year were IronSherpa, Brian McGee, who is one of the strongest in our group and Mark Gilbert, who was smart enough to pull out of the race with insufficient training due to his work travel to Russia. Mark did make the pilgrammige regardless, to show his support for the team.

Race Day
It is almost shocking how quickly the time passes from the alarm going off at 3:30am to the time you are standing at the shore in your wetsuit hugging farewell with 15 minutes to race start.

I entered that water with my friends close by and positioned myself as out of the way as I could find. My objective this time was to force my body and breathing to be as relaxed as I could possibly manage, otherwise I would risk an Asthma attack. The first time I experienced the attack was in this same lake during a training swim in 2005 and it was terrifying. John had to drag me to shore. We were now standing together with the helicopter overhead and the fans cheering- the gun sounds and everybody starts swimming.

I don't, I just stand there and wait for a minute, space opens up and I calmly enter the water and begin a very slow swim to get going. Gradually, I recognize that I am making it through the initial warmup and the risk of an attack has passed. I begin to put more effort into my swim and we are rounding the first buoy, 1km is done. Halfway back to the end of the first loop and I think I've caught sight of John and as we come out of the water at the finish of our first loop I see the clock, 45 minutes. I think to myself that must be the pro timer, which started 10 minutes earlier and take pride in knowing I've completed the first half in 35 minutes. Back into the water I see John jumping in and I know we are close together and as I continue, I can see John off to my left but eventually lose sight with the occasional swimmer getting in my way. I round the buoy again and with 1 km to go I focus on good technique and a strong pull. Eventually the lake bottom shows, the sound of the crowd cheering and I know I'm at the end, I run out of the water and see I've done a 1:10 swim, the second fastest swim I've ever done!

At the tranistion, I hear my wife Kathy shout and I run and kiss- how she gets so close to the race sometimes amazes me. Out of the tent, running right beside John, who looks like a man possessed-on to the bike and the rain begins to fall. I focus on my heart rate, ensuring that I keep it low for the first portion of the ride, with the adrenaline running high. I see John and Dave both go by and I have to let them do their own races- I have to stick to my plan. I am hoping to come in on the first half of the bike in under 3 hours. The rain does not let up, everything is soaked. I hit the 20 minute downhill and give it all I have- the downhill speed is the only way I can make up for my slower biking uphill. The rain pelts down and I quickly learn that using sunglasses is the better option then the pain to the eyes. It seems clear this is going to be a wet day.....

I catch sight of Dave on the out and back and measure that he is 10 minutes ahead of me already- he's is doing well.

The long climb back up to Lake Placid to complete the loop goes very well, I made a change to my gearing, opting for a compact crank, giving me easier gears for the hills, while sacrificing a little at the top end. I finish the last hill and make the turn into town, time to shift into the big gear on the front to fly through the flat into Placid for the second loop and my shifter cable snaps off!!!

I stare at it in disbelief-I flick the change lever a few times in hopes it will somehow work. I am fortunately close to the transition and pull up to the gate, but they do not have any bike mechanics there to help, so it's back on the road, spinning in my 4th easiest gear. The best I can manage is 28km/h on the flat- I continue until an aid station to check in, but they do not have anyone there either- a short wait while they radio around also gives me no hope. So I continue to spin along in the rain, at least some hills along this section give me some solace I am not completely wasting my time out here.

Finally I see a car at the side of the road with a cyclist being helped by a bike mechanic. They can help me after they finish the other athlete's wheel. So I wait...and wait...I see Bruce ride by, then Mike Roine...the rain continues, I start to get cold. A pickup truck pulls up and Karen is in the truck! She is out of the race, she had two successive flats, no spare tire, her chances of Kona gone, she is done for the day. The mechanic is almost done fixing the wheel and the athlete, who is now shivering with the cold, decides to quit the race...couldn't he have made the decision 30 minutes ago??? The mechanic starts working on my cable, 20 more minutes of agony and finally, I am back in the race, so to speak.

The rain continues, but now my 6 hour bike split is not going to happen, so I keep on going. I see the Aurora Duck Fan club at a corner and pull over and kiss my wife, update them on my issue and Karen's drop from the race, then back to it. I see Bruce on the out and back, then Mike. I have yet to see Greg, but finally hear him rather that see him as we pass each other in opposing directions on the out and back.

Did I mention it is raining harder?

Nearing the end of the second loop, I grab my salt tablets, which I take from a candy dispenser, a woman rides by thinking it was candy, laughs and yells over her shoulder that I just made her day. I crest the last hill and ride towards town. Coming up on a sharp left turn I see that same woman skid into the curb and flip onto the sidewalk. A year of training, 4km swim, 178km bike and her day is over- very sad.

Off the bike, quick transition for the run and I'm on my way. With my knee injury, I know I only have 1:30-2 hours of running available to me, so I decide to walk, very fast, the first 10km. I put in a solid "walk" at 1:30. Now it's time to run and speed things up to finish this thing. My knee injury stops me 5 minutes later, so I am doomed to the deathmarch for another 4:30, at least.

I've been there, done that, got the T-Shirt.

John Collins, who initiated Ironman back in 1978, summed up my feelings at that point- “Ironman is about finishing what you started”. Whether it be achieving the hopes and dreams of a year ago in the registration lineup or walking in the rain, with a projected finish time of 15+ hours. I knew I would finish well before the 17 hour cutoff- so I continued, walking down the road.

I connected with Paul, who was also limited on his running and after the last turnaround, with 13k to go we started to walk together. We came across Greg, who was about 6km behind us on this out and back course and I finally got an update after not seeing him all day. He had started this race with the flu still lingering in his system- Greg had not been able to keep any food down, yet here he was 16km to go to finish his first Ironman- proving yet again- Ironman is all about finishing what you started.

I had a secret weapon for Greg’s situation, Glucose Tablets, which get absorbed right into your blood stream under the tounge, so I gave him what I had and he continued into the darkness.

With about 5km to go, with my legs aching, my stomach started to bloat and I become very uncomfortable. I hit a porta potty soon after and when I sat down it felt like the whole thing was spinning- not a good scene. Once I was back on the road, despite my need to hit the next port a potty, I just took one step at a time and slowly knocked off the steps towards the finish. Approaching the entrance to the finish area, I thanked Paul for sticking with me and sent him to his glory of a first time Ironman finish. I ran through behind him and claimed my finisher shirt and medal.

Greg told me later the Glucose really brought him around and he was able to make up a lot of time and finished 30 minutes later.

Somewhere along the way during the run it stopped raining, for a while- what a day, what a day.

The next morning, 8:30am I heard the lineup was as long as ever, with this year’s participants as well as some fresh blood for 2009. The race was filled by 10am.