Ironman Mont-Tremblant 140.6 - Katie's Race Report

PRE-RACE DAY

The 72 hours before Ironman, Zach and I had SO much pent-up energy (thanks to tapering), paired with so much excitement, that the chosen form of release was verbal hyperactivity. If anyone had heard us in our hotel room, I'm convinced they would’ve thought we were on speed. But when you go from training 15 hours/week to 4 hours in the final week, that extra energy has to come out somehow!

The day before the race, we did an easy 0.5 mile swim at the Ironman swim training center on Lac Tremblant. Zach would probably tell you that the highlight for him was the pontoon boat giving out free espresso to Ironman swimmers. We swam 1/4 mile out to the boat, Zach had his espresso in this teeny tiny paper cup, and then we swam back.

Suited-up and ready for our pre-race day practice swim!

After checking in our bikes that afternoon, we Skyped with Coach - one final check-in to go over last minute details, goals, and things of that nature.

Leading up to the race, I did a VERY good job not thinking about the actual race. I've discovered that worrying about the race before that morning causes unnecessary stress, and spikes my heartrate. I knew I was extremely well-prepared, and there was nothing left to do except get a good night's sleep.

RACE MORNING

I choked down some breakfast (chocolate milk, slice of bread with PB, a few bites of a Bonk Breaker), but not the normal amount that I am able to eat on a race morning. The night before I had taken 2 salt tablets, in preparation for the predicted warm weather.

Zach and I went to transition to inflate our bike tires, and put our nutrition and hydration on the bikes, and to drop off our bike and run Special Needs bags.

We went back to the hotel room to grab out wetsuits, swim stuff, and morning clothes bag, and headed down to the start. We kept looking for our parents on the walk to Swim Start, but never saw them. Zach and I found a spot to put on our wetsuits, then wished each other good luck before parting. Zach's swim wave started at 6:45 a.m. - 12 minutes before mine.

SWIM (2.4 miles)

I went down to the beach for a very short 25-yard warm up. I wanted to get some water in my wetsuit and loosen up my arms a little bit. I watched as Zach’s wave started the race and thought “He just started his LONG day.”

I exited the water, and found the volunteer holding the sign and swim cap color indicating my wave. Some other anxious ladies had already started to bunch around him. With less than 10 minutes ‘til “go time,” I distracted myself by searching the crowd for our families. Nowhere in sight. The girl next to me was wearing bright magenta lipstick. Why is she wearing makeup for an Ironman?! Weird. I noticed another girl had her entire braid hanging out of her swim cap. I thought about telling her in case she forgot to tuck it in. She’s a big girl. She’s doing an Ironman. If she doesn’t want to hydrodynamic, then that’s her deal.

I did a few arm circles to make sure my shoulders were loose before I began my 2.4-mile aquatic journey.

The foggy swim start.

As soon as the 50-54 men started, my wave was herded through the timing arch and corralled to the beach. A few of the girls waded into the water, and were promptly reprimanded by an official, “OUT of the water!” I positioned myself in the center of the second row, which has worked well for me at my last few triathlons, so I’ve stuck with it.

When the airhorn blew, I ran into the water and waited for the line of girls ahead of me to start swimming before I dove in behind them, and began the usual “jockeying for position.”

The Ironman swim was like no other race start I have ever experienced. Usually by buoy 2 or 3, people have found their space, settled into their stroke, and swimmers have spread out a bit. At buoys 5 and 6, I was still smushed like a sardine. I was kicked on my left wrist so many times I worried someone had “lapped” my watch. I also had a few kicks to my jaw – thank goodness none were hard.

I thought of Swim Bike Mom’s IMLP Race Report I read a few weeks ago where she was kicked in the head multiple times and raced the rest of the Ironman with a mild concussion. I did my best to not end up in that situation.

When I could, I drafted. When I couldn’t, I tried to swim straight and hold my space.

Morning fog on Lac Tremblant is beautiful….except when you are trying to swim. The yellow buoys were incredibly difficult to see because of the thick fog laying close to the water’s surface. What did this mean? Lots and lots of sighting, and inadvertently zig-zagging a little no matter how hard I tried. At one point I actually questioned if I had gotten turned around and was swimming towards the same buoy again. I didn’t feel like I was making any progress. Apparently, I was also on the verge of losing my mind….

0.75 miles into the swim, all the kicks to the jaw and face had caught-up to my goggles, which were now leaking water. Simultaneously, the timing chip on my ankle started to feel looser and looser. I envisioned it sinking to the bottom of the lake, and my swim counting for nothing. I contemplated treading water to fix my goggles and chip, but did not want to lose time or get swum over by a mob scene. I decided to “hang tough” and swim the remaining 1.6 miles with water in my eyes (definitely would have stopped if it was salt water!). I couldn't stop thinking about the timing chip. I soon realized I could flex my left foot to see how tight the timing chip was. It was secure. That eased my mind. I tried to get out of my head and “enjoy the swim.”

The swim course

Things tightened up at the top of the “U” shaped course, when everyone was required to keep the turn buoys to their right. Nothing like a traffic-jam of 2,600 swimmers….

I resisted the urge to check my watch at the halfway mark. I needed to just keep going at the same pace, no matter what my watch said. I was cruising at a comfortable effort.

With 1.2 miles to go, things really opened up. I drafted off a couple swimmers who passed me, but couldn’t stay with them.

Just when I thought I would be spending my entire morning swimming, I heard the cheering crowd, and could make out the blue Swim Exit archway. With 50 yards left to go, I saw athletes standing and walking out of the water WAY too early. I didn’t quite get 4 good handfuls of sand before standing up – as Coach has taught us - but when I did stand, I sprinted out of the water, past everyone walking to shore! Surprisingly I wasn’t dizzy, after over an hour of being horizontal….just ready to bike!

Goal: 1:20:00

Actual: 1:15:32 (1:57/100m) PR!

T1 (1/2 mile run to the changing tent)

A volunteer held a sign labeled “<--- Wetsuit strippers!” and I took a hard left, sat on my tookus, and they ripped that bad boy off of me in 2-seconds flat! THANK YOU!

The wetsuit strippers in-action! Wish every race had these guys!

I sprinted down the red carpet while yelling “excuse me!” at athletes jogging 3-wide, blocking me. This is a race, people!

I was most definitely in Zone 5, so I decided to chill out during the last tenth-of-a-mile to the T1 changing tent.

Grabbed my bag, sat in a chair to put on my shoes, helmet, and all that fun stuff, sprayed on a layer of Bull Frog sunscreen, shoved my swim stuff in the bag, and thanked the volunteer that took my bag.

I ran out of the changing tent, easily located my bike, and was at the bike mount line pretty quickly. I noticed the girl racked next to me who had a disc wheel was already gone. Figured.

Goal: ? Be fast?

Time: 5:34

BIKE (112 miles)

Cheering crowds lined the fence for the first ¾ mile of the bike. It was pretty amazing!

Montee Ryan and the rolling hills before Rt. 117 were so foggy I had to remove my sunglasses.

I had just hit 10km on the bike when I saw the B Athletic Multisport uniform not far in front of me and said, “Zachariah!!” We briefly shared our swim times and how chaotic the swim had been for us both. I kept biking and didn’t see him until I made a U-turn at mile 20. He was about 32 minutes behind me by that point.

See where my heartrate monitor decided to die?! Raced the rest of the day off RPE.

At 27 miles I was through 40 oz. of Skratch. On my long training rides, it had been taking me 35-40 miles to go through that amount. And, by mile 42, I was out of water and would wait until Special Needs at mile 56 to get a refill of Skratch and water.

In the midst of Mont Duplessis - getting ready to do some more climbing! If you can take a moment to ignore the climbing, this is actually a lovely section of the course that rides alongside a river.

The last 12 miles of the first 56 mile loop involved a technical section - Mont Duplessis - which is a series of short, very steep climbs, requiring a great amount of gearing. The good thing was that coming back down those hills was great - I hit 40+mph!

I reached Special Needs at 56 miles. It was quick - the volunteer held my bag open while I did my thing: refilled fluids, reapplied sunscreen, and grabbed more food.

Loop 2 of the bike was not as kind.

The fog had burned off and the clouds were gone. The sun beat down relentlessly - I felt it scorching my back. The wind (aka: invisible evil) had started to pick up on Rt. 117. Heat radiated off the pavement. Zach’s bike data read that it hit 95º on the bike course at this time.

I passed a guy for the 5th time, and said, “Sorry - I guess we’re playing leapfrog.” He asked my name and introduced himself. Sean, a 40-year old from CT, and I rode together for the next few miles, chatting. He complimented me on being a “strong biker.” At times he rode right next to me, although I wished he would either pass or drop-back, since I feared being carded/penalized.

Nearing 6 hours on the bike, looking forward to stretching my legs and seeing what's left in them for the marathon!

The last visit on Mont Duplessis, I passed Sean one last time, and didn’t see him again until the run.

In anticipation of my quickly-approaching marathon, I was more conservative on my last confrontation with Duplessis. I climbed out of the saddle to stretch my legs a bit, and while doing so, I passed one guy who said, “Nice climbing!” 

I knew I was in risky territory when I got off the bike after 6 hours of riding and still didn’t have to pee. As a rule of thumb, it’s good to pee 1-2 times during the Ironman bike – this is a sign that you’re properly hydrated.

Goal: 6:10:00 (18.16 mph)

Actual: 6:01:53 (18.57 mph)

T2

Bike catchers are AMAZING! I dismounted my bike, handed Jameson to a volunteer, and off I went to the changing tent!

Changed my shoes, had a volunteer spray me with another coat of Bull Frog, and off I went!

Goal: ? Be fast?

Time: 2:50

RUN (26.2 miles - marathon)

7:26 on the clock, which meant I had just over 4.5 hours to finish my marathon to cross the line with a sub-12 hour Ironman. I tried not to get too excited because I knew meeting that goal would be contingent upon how I felt once I actually got a couple miles under my belt.

Miles 1-6

Once I got going, I noticed three things I’ve never experienced during a race: 

1.)  I was absolutely freezing. Goosebumps ALL over my body. Do I have a fever?

2.) Everything from my elbows to my fingertips was tingling. 

3.) I was incredibly nauseous. I convinced myself I’d probably be blowing chunks within the first 5 miles.

Mile 1 was 8:27. Good. Mile 2 was 9:20. I can deal. Mile 3, 9:31. Mile 4, 11:14 (with a port-a-potty stop). I didn’t like where this was going. My heartrate monitor was still defunct, so I stuck to RPE.

The nausea subsided. I choked down a gel and a salt tablet.

Miles 7-13.1

My stomach started cramping…first mild, then more severe. I can deal with chills, numb extremities, and most other things. But, when my core cramps – I mean, I use my core for EVERYthing – I have a hard time powering through. I decided it wasn’t my diaphragm, due to the location of the cramping.

I knew I was actually probably under-nourished and under-hydrated, so it couldn’t be gut rot (overnourished and the stomach can’t absorb the nutrients fast enough). I’d taken salt. I was drinking electrolytes.

I didn’t know what else to do other than “hang tough,” keep moving forward, and try to slow my pace a little to see if that helped.

Somewhere around mile 8. Stomach cramping....feet are barely leaving the ground. Boo....

I neared the village of Mont Tremblant. Mike Reilly’s voice echoed through the hills, and I could hear his enthusiasm. I strained to hear who had won the pro men and pro women’s fields, but couldn’t make out anything definite.

The crowds started to thicken, and one girl yelled ““Chick” them!” while pointing at the two guys 30 feet ahead of me. I smiled and just kept at my pace. If I’d been feeling better, the challenge would have been tempting.

At Special Needs, I swapped out my Fuel Belt bottles for fresh Skratch, and went on my way. The loop through town – with all the cheering spectators – lifted my spirits a bit.

Seeing our families for the first time during the race! Halfway through the marathon, cramping, and just trying to stay cool (see: sponge in my sports bra).

But what was REALLY exciting, was seeing my parents at the halfway point! First I saw Bob & Sue (which meant Bob had DNF’ed :-( ), then I saw John & Jan, then Mom with her pom-poms, and then all of a sudden I looked over and Dad was running beside me!

“How’re you feeling baby girl?!” he asked.

“Bad. I’ve had stomach cramps since mile 7.”

“Are you taking salt?”

“I am. It’s not working,” and off I went for the last half of my marathon.

Miles 13.1-20

Math. Lots of math. Anyone who does long-course triathlons will tell you that a lot of race time is spent doing math.

Perhaps it’s a survival technique: distract the mind from the discomfort.

I needed to average 10:30 or better/mile to finish sub-12. As soon as I figured that out, my pace started to drop into the 11:30s and 12:00s. Yeah. So much for that.

Those splits just keep going down. :-( Oh, and that zone chart? Completely inaccurate. Look at the next file to see how my HR monitor decided to go crazy and do whatever it damn-well pleased.

HR monitor decided it didn't want to work on race day. Thanks a lot....

I knew I wouldn’t be able to finish sub-12 hours. I threw that goal out the window and focused on finishing Ironman as comfortably as possible. That meant: staying hydrated, not pushing my pace (not sure I could have, even if I wanted), and keeping my core temp down. By loop 2, the sun was setting, and the temperature had dropped a few degrees, but it was still quite warm.

At times it was so quiet I swear you could hear a pin drop. Barely anyone was running, and those of us that were, had a very slow pace. I thought I’d be better off walking – heck, it’s not like I was moving a whole lot faster than those who were! I resisted, knowing that I’d be mad at myself if I did – this is a race. My pace was not anywhere near where I’d like it, but I was determined  to make an effort to move forward in a manner that at least somewhat resembled a jog, albeit a painful, uncomfortable, elderly-woman-like one.

About this time, a gentleman came up behind me and said, "I followed you all the way through Mont Duplessis on the second loop. You are a very strong climber!" What a kind gentleman. I've been working on my climbing skills but didn't know that they had improved from 'meh' to what people consider 'strong.' I guess it's all relative...

Miles 20-26.2

I kept waiting to hit the wall. It never happened (or maybe it happened when I hit mile 4? Haha).

I high-fived Zach at (my) mile 21. He was 56 minutes behind me. He looked GREAT. Going strong and smiling. Great to see.

Because we were technically racing Internationally, all the mileage signs were in kilometers. How many kilometers are in a marathon?! Back to math….

My mind became completely engrossed in mathematical equations and contemplating asking a volunteer how many kilometers were in a marathon.

I'd heard from teammates who raced the 70.3 on this course in June that they had to run to the top of the village before winding down to the finish line. While taking the "express lane" around Special Needs, I mentally prepared myself for the last bit of climbing. Thank the Lord that turned out to not be the case! There was not any extra climbing before the finish. Woohoo!

Finish

I soaked in the cheering crowds and hit a few high-5s as I triumphantly veered left into the finishing chute.

I have PTSD from Ironman 70.3 Puerto Rico in March where I was passed by two girls in my age group 0.2 miles from the finish line. I'm now conditioned to look over my shoulder when the finish line is in sight. Lo & behold, there was a woman behind me sprinting.

I poured-it-on, discovered some newfound energy, and sprinted to the finish, trying to hold her off. This woman was not in my age group, so I wasn't horribly concerned if she beat me, but I thought, Why not try to hold off one more woman?

I jumped over the finish line, and was pleasantly surprised that there was I finish line "catcher" to take my arm, walk me over to get my medal, remove my timing chip, then walk me into the athlete recovery tent. Judging by the photos, I think Zach had the same catcher that I did.

It's kind of amazing to think that I self-propelled 140.6 miles! After meeting Mom & Dad at the finish line, I limped up to the massage tent to get a post-race massage, then joined the parents to watch Zach become an Ironman about an hour later. 

Goal: 4:00 (9:10/mile)

Actual: 4:50:02 (11:03/mile) :-(

FINISH

Goal: under 12:00

Actual: 12:15:51

By the Numbers

1 - hour spent at the border to get into Canada

4 - parental units joining to support :-)

7 - hours of sleep on race night

2 - firework displays during the weekend

9 - salt tablets consumed

95º - the highest recorded temp it hit on the bike course

6,224 - calories burned (this is low because my HR monitor malfunctioned, it's probably another 1-2k more)

1,960 - calories consumed while racing (yeah, I really messed this one up....)

19th out of 59 in the 25-29 female age group (6 DNF'ed)

125th out of 541 women who finished

777th out of 2153 athletes who finished

Top 23% of female finishers

Top 36% of all finishers

Nutrition

Bike

2 Bonk Breakers

4 1/2 Clif gels

80 oz. Skratch

7 salt tablets

50 oz. (?) of water

Run

3 Clif gels

1/4 orange

2 salt tablets

30 oz. Skratch