IRONMAN 70.3 Mont Tremblant - June 23, 2024 - Katie's Race Report

Swim

I was queued up in my swim corral when I heard athletes behind me talking about the shortened swim course. I spun my head around and said, “What?! They shortened the course? To what? When?!”

One athlete said he had heard the announcement a short time ago, and another told me she heard it was shortened to 1170m. We stood there looking out to the water, as rain continued to steadily fall. Sure enough, after 3 yellow buoys, there was now a red turn buoy. 

We had the luck of watching the pro men and women start their races, and watched as, sure enough, they all turned at that red buoy. 

I personally heard no announcements, and had seen no course updates pushed through the Ironman tracker app when I checked right before turning in my phone with my morning clothes bag. 

As I inched toward the start line, I was 30 seconds away from starting my race when a volunteer announced to everyone standing within earshot that the course was shortened and pointed out our first turn buoy. I was grateful to have heard the news earlier from my nearby neighbors, so I was already mentally prepared.

Once in the water, I was bunchy with other athletes until the turn buoy. Soon after making the turn, the water started to get really choppy, and I quickly got into a breathing-sighting-breathing rhythm that allowed me to see the buoy but also not get smacked in the face with a wave. I was able to manage my sighting, breathing, and technique, perhaps thanks to the “experience” from racing 70.3 Jones Beach during a tropical storm last September! (which, in my opinion, was a more difficult swim, as I was truly getting tossed around by near-whitecaps)

Nearly to the first orange buoy (halfway mark), I looked beyond to see the next buoy, and quickly corrected. The orange buoy appeared to have floated way off course, and athletes that swim buoy to buoy, versus trying to look beyond to the next one, were having to severely correct when they got to the orange. I’d say my years of experience helped me swim the most direct line in this situation.

Rounding that last turn, water smoothed out a bit, though I couldn’t tell if the current was pushing me in or pulling me away from shore. The herd thinned, and I focused on sighting the swim exit, which wasn’t especially easy since the color blended in with the monochromatic colors of the rainy morning.

T1

I squished my way down the red carpet toward transition. The announcer called my name not once, but twice, as I continued sprinting past men easy-jogging to their bikes.

I grabbed dry socks and bike shoes from the trash bag I’d taken from the hotel room that morning as a last-minute thought. Socks were especially challenging to finagle on my feet when everything was wet. I managed, and ran my way to the mount line, hopping on my bike while in motion, and continuing to pass a few people fully stopped at the line.

Bike

It’s an uphill grind to get out of downtown Mont Tremblant, but I knew things started to roll once cresting the hill by the golf course. The rain continued, and I was happy to turn onto Route 117 where the road was wider and smoother.

I was flying on the ride out, averaging almost 22 mph by the turnaround. The ride back quickly made it evident there had been a tailwind assist before making the U-turn.

At one point, the rain was coming down in sheets, blowing diagonally toward me as I pedaled up a hill. Then, on one descent, the rain picked up, and at 44 mph, my face felt as if it was being pelted by hail. It took a few seconds before my face finally stopped stinging. I thought of all the racers I’d seen without eye protection, and wondered if they’d started regretting that decision.

I looked forward to re-entering town and getting some energy from the crowd before starting up Duplessis. In typical Mont Tremblant fashion, that crowd didn’t disappoint! Biking toward the pedestrian bridge, both sides of the street were lined with spectators. I made a “get louder” gesture with my hand as I biked through, and man did they respond! 

I made sure to use all my gears going up Duplessis, and tried not to fixate on my average speed dropping below 20. It was going to be what it was going to be. The goal was to bike fast, but also smart and safe, given the slippery conditions. It’s all in vain if you hit the pavement!

Toward the top of Duplessis, I passed a teammate who is a strong triathlete, often finishing on the podium. I suspected I was in a good spot in the overall standings, but with pro women racing, I couldn’t tell who ahead of me was pro vs. AG.

Luckily I didn’t have anyone near me on the fast descents off Duplessis. I was able to zoom down with my whole lane available to me, taking the corners with whichever line I wanted. Heeding Zach’s advice, I opted to lap my watch *before* getting to the dismount line, in an effort to avoid crashing my bike (and body) at the dismount line of yet another rainy race.

T2

Racked nearby was another girl in my AG who was a podium contender. Her bike was already back on the rack, which meant I had some work to do to find her on the run course.

As I ran down the still-squishy red carpet to exit transition, I saw Zach and the boys for the first time! It’s always so great seeing their smiling faces! Zach typically gives me data about what place I’m in, how many minutes down or up from other girls in my AG. This time he gave me nothing. Absolutely no info. I contemplated yelling back over my shoulder at him to ask for intel, but I didn’t bother. I thought maybe I wasn’t in a good placement and he didn’t want to share that.

Run

In previous years, I used to start my run like a bat out of hell. By mile 8, I’d be shot and my pace would peter off.

This year I’ve been starting my run at a pace that feels challenging yet maintainable for the whole race. I clicked the first mile off at 7:00 minutes flat. I watched as the B and C level pro men ran towards me in their final miles. With about 4km left in her race, I cheered on Ellie Salthouse as she chugged up one of the last few uphills on course.

I started passing people. This is not normal for me. I don’t normally pass people on the run. I am usually the one getting passed. 

I was passing men, and every so often a woman. With each woman I passed, I asked their age group. I needed to know who I was directly in contention with. By the turn around at 10K, I still hadn’t passed anyone in my age group. I continued “hunting” - reeling in women one by one. About 7 miles in, I made the first pass on a 35-39 female. I ran by her strong, focusing on picking it up just a bit to make sure the pass was permanent.

As I continued running through what felt like the rainforest - wet, humid, and did I say humid? - I noticed women still on their run out craning their necks to look at my bib number. I spun my bib to my left hip, so it’d be hidden from ladies running behind me or in the opposing direction. I was grateful my sunglasses hid my eyeballs, so I could easily glance on girls and their numbers without being as obvious as those turning their heads.

With each curve on the course, I peeked over my shoulder to make sure the last pass on 35-39 stuck. She was absolutely nowhere in sight. Historically, and reminiscent of 70.3 Jones Beach and 70.3 Western Mass, I have had girls sneak up on me in the last 5K, sometimes even in just the last mile, and make strong passes on me. I ran the downhills hard (not my forte), and the uphills as hard as I could. I was grimacing and grinding my teeth on the last uphill, with just a 1/2 mile to go. But, I was going to be damned if any women were going to pass me in the last stretch.

As I ran through a cul-de-sac and entered the wet cobblestones of the pedestrian village, emotion swept over me. I was smiling and amping up the crowd, while simultaneously choking up and holding back tears. I don’t ever get emotional at finish lines. I don’t even think I was emotional at my full Ironman finish in 2015. There’s something about Mont Tremblant that is magical. I don’t know what it is.

While biking and running, even through trying weather, I had frequent thoughts of “I get to do this. I am lucky to be here. I love this course; it’s so beautiful.” Gratitude surrounded my thoughts, which is not a common occurrence during races. I’m usually in the mental trenches trying to manage pace and pain.

So, as I ran down the cobblestones toward the finish line, loud cheers and smiling faces lining each side of the finish chute, I soaked it in. I appreciated it. I choked back tears, but also smiled and blew Zach a kiss as I saw him on the last turn into the finish.

This was the first 70.3 in a long time (or ever?) where I didn’t lose places to other women during the run. Perhaps all that Boston Marathon training is continuing to show up in my legs, this time in the form of runs off the bike.

Zach found me in the athlete area, and asked if I wanted to know what place I was. FIRST in AG! I didn’t allow myself to celebrate yet, knowing with rolling starts there could still be someone faster than you that just hasn’t gotten across the finish line yet. It happened to me at Jones Beach - I finished and was showing as 1st place AG, when 20 minutes later I got knocked down to 2nd, only losing to 1st by 15 seconds (!!). I had experienced some disappointment before, so I kept refreshing the tracker to make sure my standing was still showing as 1st. 

When all was said and done, I had done it! For the first time at an IRONMAN-branded event, I had WON MY AGE GROUP! I was looking forward to the awards ceremony and the podium photo with the other top ladies. Unfortunately the ceremony was cancelled due to rain (ironic, since we did the whole race in it - yet couldn’t accept our awards in it…?).

I raced with gratitude, and won - in more ways than ((w)(on)e.

As always, many thanks to my @zach who is husband/father/bike mechanic/cheer squad extraordinaire, and my coach @mbellisracing who continues to get me to the start line fit, healthy, and mentally ready.