You Only Race Your First Ironman Once - Ironman Lake Placid 2017
Well - I did it! First 140.6 finished! I completed Ironman Lake Placid on July 23 and could not be more excited. This race was different for me - it was for a much larger purpose racing for my mom and other survivors battling Multiple Myeloma. And when hardship struck - and my 12 hour time goal went out the window - I was so glad to be racing for something so significant that would ignite me to the finish!
Pre-Race
After a ton of driving from Atlanta, Sean and I arrived (alongside my parents) in Lake Placid the Wednesday before the race. This has been a family vacation since 2005 (when I was in 9th grade!), but arriving as a competitor felt different. I had a ton of anxiety after 9 months of training for this race - more time than I have ever spent working on one solitary day of swim/bike/run.
The anxiety swiftly shifted to excitement at the MMRF (Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation) pre-race gathering Saturday afternoon. My bike was checked in, gear checked in, and I could just relax alongside so many others racing for survivors like my mom. Sean and I officially hit our $10,000 goal, and my dad was the second highest fundraiser (hitting just over $26,000). I could not be more proud or more excited to support this amazing cause.
We finished off the pre-race evening with our annual athlete blessing at the local Episcopal Church. Once again, this was different. I had always seen my dad blessed at this service, but this time, Sean and I were racing, too. Sharing a prayer with so many other athletes continued to lessen the anxiety. However, by the time we finished dinner and crawled into bed, it had returned. Sleeping was rough. I woke up every 20 minutes - even dreaming that we had missed the race. Finally, at 4:30AM, the alarm went off. It was time!
Swim (2.4 miles - 1:14:36)
Race morning was pretty awesome. Our hotel is right next to transition, so I was able to add some final nutrition to my bike, head to body marking, and still go back to drink some coffee/relax at the hotel. My back/shoulder was killing me from the hotel bed, but I think this helped prevent me from worrying about every other little that could happen throughout the day - which I tend to do. Sean and I waited a few minutes too long to head to the start and had to fight our way through the swim shoot after one final hug from my mom. The swim is a rolling start, so you had to fight your way to your estimated swim time area. After a good bit of squeezing through fit people in wetsuits, I finally made it to the 1:11:00-1:20:00 section. I was shooting for 1:15:00, so this seemed about right.
After a few minutes of anxious anticipation while the pros started, it was time. The gun went off at 6:40AM, and I was in the water by 6:45AM. The 2-loop Lake Placid swim is pretty awesome, because there is a line at the bottom you can follow. Unfortunately, everyone likes to follow the line, so there was a fair amount of jostling on the first loop. I kept reminding myself to stay calm and keep it steady - one buoy at a time - it’s early in the day - no crazy pacing. There were so moments of getting stuck/kicked, but I told myself to just keep moving forward.
Before I knew it, the first loop was over. I looked at my watch - 36:30 - right on! I ran up on the beach, grabbed a swig of water, and dove back into the water for loop 2. Loop 2 seemed even rougher than loop 1. People seemed to be zigging and zagging. Then, out of nowhere, I felt my wetsuit un-velcro and start to unzip (that had never happened before). I tried to one-arm it and fix it as quickly as possible while people attempted to swim overtop of my. Okay - fixed - just keep moving. By this point, I started counting buoys. They seemed to fly by. And…done!
T1 (8:20)
I ran out of the water and over to the wetsuit strippers (fun fact - I've never used these awesome volunteers before!). Before I knew it, I had my wetsuit in hand and was making the long trek (800 meters? maybe? felt like it...) to the transition area. It really felt like a long run - I swear I'm not usually that slow on transitions. I grabbed my bike transition bag, made a quick port-o-pot stop, and sprinted into the changing tent. The volunteers were awesome! They helped me get everything out of my bag and stuck my wetsuit back in the transition bag. Podium Multisport top, bike shorts, helmet, sunglasses - go!
***Another fun fact - this is the only leg of the race where I beat Sean Kilpatrick. :)
Bike (112 miles - 7:14:17) Everyone said the Lake Placid course was hard with 6,898 feet of climbing on the 2-loop bike course, but the first loop honestly didn't feel so bad. After making it through the sketchy downhill bike mount, I tried to take it easy on the initial rolling hills before the famous "scream to Keene." However, these early hills seemed almost easy. The descent to Keene was quick (a little cold) and fun! This was followed up by a long flat section and an extensive out-and-back (that seemed to go forever). I tried to really focus on my nutrition here. My plan was to consume one bottle of water with base salt every hour and 1/4 of a picky bar every 5 miles. I just couldn't "get my stomach right" with liquid nutrition before the race, so I decided to roll with this.
The course was pretty jammed with cyclists, and it was hard to keep the required 6 bike length rule. I was so paranoid about getting a penalty, especially as everyone crunched on the uphills. I did my best to get around people and avoid drafting as much as possible. However, I saw a ridiculous amount of packs intentionally drafting and blowing by everyone, which was super frustrating. But I tried to race my own race and just keep doing my best.
The hills back into town still seemed pretty easy on the first loop, but on one of the final hills, a motorcycle started honking at me. I immediately became paranoid (perhaps since I was far enough into the race to be a little delusional). I had no idea what a penalty looked like - was this a race official - had I been too close to someone climbing one of the hills? Were they trying to give me a penalty? I didn't see a penalty card... I don't think I did anything wrong...I tried to put it out of my mind.
Before I knew it, I was at mama bear, baby bear, and papa bear hill. I felt like I was in the Tour de France - surrounded by people cheering. I was flying - I felt like a pro! I felt great! I looped through town and saw my mom, who yelled that Sean had already come through. I wasn't sure whether my dad was in front of or behind me. I hoped he was having a good race so far. Loop 1 down - 3:20:00.
Seeing my mom gave me the strength I needed to start loop 2, but the early hills weren't as easy as they were the first time around. The wind had picked up, my legs started to burn, and my shoulders were killing me. I made a quick port-o-pot stop, stretched my back, and kept moving. Finally - the descent to Keene. But the wind on this segment was pretty bad - I was terrified that I was going over the railing down a mountain and into the water at 50mph. I tensed up, and the shoulder/back pain got worse. My happy-go-lucky attitude from loop 1 started to fade. The doubts about the "penalty" kept coming back into my head, too - enough so that I stopped at 2 penalty boxes to make sure I hadn't received a penalty (I hadn't - and I think they thought I was a bit crazy - apparently stopping at a penalty box when you haven't actually received a penalty is considered strange). But I felt relieved and kept moving.
The flat section on loop 2 felt a lot less flat than on loop 1, and the hills back into town were pretty rough. As I geared down, I kept praying I had another gear, but I didn't. I had to stand and grind up a few hills (which is really not what I wanted to do). I knew I was way off the pace from my first loop, but I reminded myself it was one of the toughest Ironman courses in the world and just kept moving. The volunteers and spectators at the top of each hill really helped. I tried to take in the cheering and the music - getting back to a pretty good place mentally by the time I hit the three bear hills. I felt like I was flying through town! It was done!
With 0.5 miles to go, tragedy almost struck. Another cyclist jerked in front of me without warning to visit his family/friends on the side of the road...I almost went down...but recovered. Phew! I saw my mom yelling for me and made the final turn before dismounting. The bike was over!
T2 (6:51)
A very sweet older volunteer grabbed my bike in transition after the dismount line. I had been told that after the Ironman bike, I would tell the volunteers I never wanted to see my bike again...but I wasn't in that bad of a place. I was feeling positive, I was doing it, I was going to be an Ironman! The run was my strength! Then...I started running to grab my bag. Ugh...this felt way worse than anytime I had ever run off of the bike. Just keep moving. I grabbed my run bag and headed into the changing tent. Multiple Myeloma kit on, cliff shots in pocket, base salt in pocket...go go go!
Run (26.2 miles - 5:13:57)
The first mile downhill hurt but wasn't horrible. Wait...I forgot my bib. Would they disqualify me? Did I have to go back up the hill 1 mile to get it? I stopped at the first aid station and started panicking to a volunteer about my bib. She told me to keep moving and she would try to figure it out by the time I came back around.
As I continued to brave the up and downhills, I saw Sean for the first time since before the race. We hugged and he told me to stop freaking out about my bib. I kept moving. My pacing was great and my legs started to feel strong. I was keeping with my plan and passing a ton of people - run to the aid station - walk through the aid station with a cliff shot, base salt, and water.
I was definitely on pace for my goal of being under 4 hours. I knew I had trained for this, felt fit, and felt strong. My body and energy felt surprisingly good! I was doing it! Then...mile 5 came...I felt a sudden jolt in my inner right quad. What happened? Had I pulled it? Was it cramping? After 13 years of distance running, I've never felt anything like this! I could barely put weight on my leg I was in so much pain. I told myself I could walk through the next aid station. But as soon as I started running again, the pain seemed worse than before. I could barely bend my leg, and when my foot hit the ground, it felt like someone was stabbing me in the quad.
I managed to run/walk through most of the first loop - just trying to get to the halfway point to see my mom. She immediately knew something was wrong, and I told her the second loop would take much longer than anticipated. I also quickly found a race official at the halfway point to make sure they wouldn't disqualify me for my bib. After telling me he had never seen anyone forget to put this on, he told me to forget it and keep moving. Phew!
The second loop of the run was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I knew I had 13.1 more miles to go (up and down mountainous terrain), and at this point, I was literally falling if I tried to run more than 2 minutes straight. Putting weight on my leg was beyond excruciating and debilitating. I'm not entirely sure how I made it to the finish. It seems like a massive jumble in my mind now - but I remember support from the amazing ITL cheer quad, MMRF cheer crew, and the incredible volunteers at each aid station. I saw Sean and my dad on some out-and-backs, which helped a ton. Sean told me to "keep going Katie-bug!" and my dad reminded me that Ironman was about this type of adversity...that he was proud of me...and that I would make it to the finish. The time no longer mattered.
I was so heavily impacted by so many athletes I met on the course...some who were injured...some who were just trying to get through it...each athlete had a story. Something shifted in my mind during this race. It has always been about "winning" in races for me or hitting a great time. Today, it wasn't. I felt humbled to be surrounded by so many amazing athletes who had worked so hard, and I just wanted to make it to the finish for something more important than me - for my mom. It wasn't about me...or my time...or my leg...it was about her and others battling Multiple Myeloma each day.
I finally made it to the last 2 mile out-and-back. It seemed like someone had moved the turn-around back, as it seemed like I would never get there. With 1 mile to go, I tried the run the remainder, but I kept falling and really could not put anymore weight on the leg. I resorted to speed walking and essentially dragging my leg behind me...until I hit the finish oval. If you haven't raced IMLP - the finish is one of the most amazing experiences in the world. You enter a giant oval (that used to serve as the Olympic speed skating rink) surrounded by people cheering from all sides. I ran down the finish shoot (13:58:01) and finally heard Mike Reilly call my name..."Katie Kilpatrick...you are an Ironman!"
(***August update - the pain turned out to be a stress fracture in my femur)
Post-Race
And just like that, 9 months of training/fundraising/preparation was finished. My mom and Sean were both waiting at the finish line. And soon, we were all able to wait inside the finish shoot to place a medal around my dad's neck!
I'm still not exactly sure what happened to my leg (cramping...tear...pull), but I couldn't put any weight on it for about 2 days. It is now progressively feeling better. While I want to get it figured out so that it never happens again, I'm surprisingly not all that disappointed. Yes, I wanted to race about 2 hours faster than I did...but Ironman Lake Placid made triathlon about something more significant than a "place" or a "time."
That being said, I forgot the pain very quickly following the race...where Sean, my dad, and I all signed up to Race Ironman Lake Placid (20th Anniversary) with the MMRF again next year. I cannot wait for all of the adventures that this next year will bring for our family. But for now, I am just thankful for the support of everyone that was out on the course and for everyone reading this ridiculously long race report. Finishing the race to so many posts/messages/calls/care packages, along with all of your support through our fundraising this year, means the world. Thank you Team Podium, ATC, ITL, Woodward, KUCC, family, friends, and beyond!
I recently heard a radio announcer demand everyone to stop saying, "this is the best day of my life," as this is a very serious claim. Well...I'm going to claim it anyways. Despite any challenges during the race, July 23 was probably the most meaningful day of my entire life completing my first Ironman competition alongside my dad/husband and in support of my mom. Thank you to everyone who made this journey possible. Now...it's time to get ready for next year. July 22, 2018...here we come!
