Ironman Lake Placid Race Report
Pre-Race:
You’ll never feel more awake at 4:00am than you do at 4:00am on the day you’re doing an Ironman. I popped out of bed immediately and started my day with my classic pre-race breakfast – 4 bottles of Boost. Try taking in 960 calories any faster than you can with Boost! I love it.
As I plowed back my breakfast, Silvia began her day as well. The night before the race we went out to the local grocery store to pick up my last piece of fuel for my bike ride – Uncrustables. These things became my ultimate bike fuel during training and I planned to use them in Lake Placid. Low and behold, the Lake Placid Price Chopper does not carry Uncrustables! Madness, I know. These are the things to think about when creating your nutrition plan – will they have them in the frozen food aisle when you need it? I had a minor meltdown in the Price Chopper, so Silvia convinced me that regular old PB&J would do the job just the same. Although I detested the idea of trying something “new” on race day, she was right. Regular old PB&J did the job. She was such a good sport about it that she jumped out of bed at the same as I did on Sunday to make them. She’s the best!
After all of my zillion gear bags were packed and my morning breakfast was down the hatch, I gave Silvia a huge hug and kissed her goodbye. She began to cry…A LOT! She kept saying how proud she was of me and how far I’ve come. I had to keep my composure during this. At 4:45am on the day of Ironman, I figured I had to keep the cool, calm and collected routine up…at least until the marathon, right?
I caught the shuttle down to the Olympic Oval with a cadre of other soon to be iron men and women. Lots of good lucks and smiles had by all…but the nervous tension was out of control. You only do your first Ironman once and all of the experiences are part of the ride. Soak them in like a sponge.
After getting off the Iron Bus, I did all the necessary evils. One final bike check. Body marking. Load up Gatorade on bike. Drop off special needs bike and run bags. Final “de-fuel” before jumping into Mirror Lake. Grab the wetsuit and get ready for one long effin’ day! I went down to Mirror Lake to watch the Pro Women’s start at 6:25am. Shortly after the pros began their day, the amateurs, all 2200+ of us, were allowed to start piling into the abyss. My ankle crossed the registration timing mat and I was officially entered into the madness.
The Swim: 1:00:41 – 165th out of the water out of 2208 competitors
I’ll tell you what, if I didn’t come from a competitive swimming background a mass Ironman swim start would frighten the piss out of me. When I came up with my strategy for where to place myself for the swim start, I used a simple risk reward analysis of the scenario. If you’re not familiar with the swim start in Lake Placid, there is a rope that runs about 5 feet below the surface of the entire swim course. If you can get directly above the rope, you never have to sight. Not once. Good deal if you can squeeze in there. Simple risk and reward. Your reward for getting right above the rope is awesome. Your open water swim essentially becomes a swim at your local pool. The risk is that you get the crap pummeled out of you because nearly all 2200 competitors want to swim here. I decided a long time ago that the reward did not outweigh the risk. I also figured that there would be a ton of completely risk averse swimmers that would pile to the far right side of the lake as well. Too bad a couple hundred people also have this perspective. You can get pummeled here too. My strategy was to line up smack dab in the middle of the lake but way towards the front, only one row in back of the line. It turns out that the strategy worked like a gem. I don’t even need a hand’s worth of fingers to count the times I was hit. I can only actually remember one good strike to the head. I was expecting WAY worse. I swam about 100 feet to the right of the buoy line the entire time. Very little traffic. I actually had a tough time finding people to draft off of at times if you can believe it.
I felt terrific as I finished the first of my two swim loops. I was shocked that my first loop only took 29 minutes. I was targeting to go much slower and conserve energy. I really didn’t feel like I was pushing that much, but with the buoyancy of my wetsuit and a ridiculous amount of adrenaline from realizing that I AM DOING AN IRONMAN, you just can’t help but to go a bit quicker than expected I suppose. The second loop was a lot like the first. Very long and easy strokes. I just focused on swimming efficiently and saving my legs for the final 138.2 miles. When I exited the water after the second loop, I saw the race clock read 1:00 and some change. A few minutes faster than predicted. A great start to a beautiful morning.
You’ll never feel more awake at 4:00am than you do at 4:00am on the day you’re doing an Ironman. I popped out of bed immediately and started my day with my classic pre-race breakfast – 4 bottles of Boost. Try taking in 960 calories any faster than you can with Boost! I love it.
As I plowed back my breakfast, Silvia began her day as well. The night before the race we went out to the local grocery store to pick up my last piece of fuel for my bike ride – Uncrustables. These things became my ultimate bike fuel during training and I planned to use them in Lake Placid. Low and behold, the Lake Placid Price Chopper does not carry Uncrustables! Madness, I know. These are the things to think about when creating your nutrition plan – will they have them in the frozen food aisle when you need it? I had a minor meltdown in the Price Chopper, so Silvia convinced me that regular old PB&J would do the job just the same. Although I detested the idea of trying something “new” on race day, she was right. Regular old PB&J did the job. She was such a good sport about it that she jumped out of bed at the same as I did on Sunday to make them. She’s the best!
After all of my zillion gear bags were packed and my morning breakfast was down the hatch, I gave Silvia a huge hug and kissed her goodbye. She began to cry…A LOT! She kept saying how proud she was of me and how far I’ve come. I had to keep my composure during this. At 4:45am on the day of Ironman, I figured I had to keep the cool, calm and collected routine up…at least until the marathon, right?
I caught the shuttle down to the Olympic Oval with a cadre of other soon to be iron men and women. Lots of good lucks and smiles had by all…but the nervous tension was out of control. You only do your first Ironman once and all of the experiences are part of the ride. Soak them in like a sponge.
After getting off the Iron Bus, I did all the necessary evils. One final bike check. Body marking. Load up Gatorade on bike. Drop off special needs bike and run bags. Final “de-fuel” before jumping into Mirror Lake. Grab the wetsuit and get ready for one long effin’ day! I went down to Mirror Lake to watch the Pro Women’s start at 6:25am. Shortly after the pros began their day, the amateurs, all 2200+ of us, were allowed to start piling into the abyss. My ankle crossed the registration timing mat and I was officially entered into the madness.
The Swim: 1:00:41 – 165th out of the water out of 2208 competitors
I’ll tell you what, if I didn’t come from a competitive swimming background a mass Ironman swim start would frighten the piss out of me. When I came up with my strategy for where to place myself for the swim start, I used a simple risk reward analysis of the scenario. If you’re not familiar with the swim start in Lake Placid, there is a rope that runs about 5 feet below the surface of the entire swim course. If you can get directly above the rope, you never have to sight. Not once. Good deal if you can squeeze in there. Simple risk and reward. Your reward for getting right above the rope is awesome. Your open water swim essentially becomes a swim at your local pool. The risk is that you get the crap pummeled out of you because nearly all 2200 competitors want to swim here. I decided a long time ago that the reward did not outweigh the risk. I also figured that there would be a ton of completely risk averse swimmers that would pile to the far right side of the lake as well. Too bad a couple hundred people also have this perspective. You can get pummeled here too. My strategy was to line up smack dab in the middle of the lake but way towards the front, only one row in back of the line. It turns out that the strategy worked like a gem. I don’t even need a hand’s worth of fingers to count the times I was hit. I can only actually remember one good strike to the head. I was expecting WAY worse. I swam about 100 feet to the right of the buoy line the entire time. Very little traffic. I actually had a tough time finding people to draft off of at times if you can believe it.
I felt terrific as I finished the first of my two swim loops. I was shocked that my first loop only took 29 minutes. I was targeting to go much slower and conserve energy. I really didn’t feel like I was pushing that much, but with the buoyancy of my wetsuit and a ridiculous amount of adrenaline from realizing that I AM DOING AN IRONMAN, you just can’t help but to go a bit quicker than expected I suppose. The second loop was a lot like the first. Very long and easy strokes. I just focused on swimming efficiently and saving my legs for the final 138.2 miles. When I exited the water after the second loop, I saw the race clock read 1:00 and some change. A few minutes faster than predicted. A great start to a beautiful morning.
T1: 8:35
After finishing off the swim in fine form I went hunting for strippers! Wetsuit strippers that is. My stripper was not a flirty buxom blonde. In fact, my stripper was a tall and lanky dude. He told me to get on my backside pronto…very much the dominatrix stripper! This dude absolutely rocked. I think my wetsuit was off in no more than 3 seconds. The volunteers were awesome in Placid. All 3500 of them. I said my goodbye and thank you to said stripper and started my ¼ run up to the Olympic Oval and Men’s Changing Tent. The run on the carpet is wild. Just hundreds and hundreds of people cheering. It was such a rush. I saw my parents out of the corner of my eye during the run up to the Oval. Sweet! After grabbing my swim-to-bike gear bag I plopped down in a seat in the Iron Dude’s Tent. After dumping all of my stuff out of my bag and onto the ground I pull the rookie mistake of the day and put my helmet on first. Next I went for my bike jersey. Ummm…Earth to rookie…Earth to rookie. You can’t fit a bike jersey over your helmet. I started to laugh my ass off in the tent and the fella next to me did too. Picture a turtle who can’t pop his head out from his shell and you pretty much get the picture. At least I lightened the mood, right? So I still need to learn how to dress myself…no big deal. When I finally figured out how to put everything on in the right order, I was off for my little bike ride. 112 miles of spandex on bike seat action.
The Bike: 6:41:38 – 917 overall after the ride (I got passed by 752 people!!!)
What can I say…no one confused me for a cyclist at IMLP. But I really can’t stress this point enough…do not worry about anyone else but yourself in an Ironman bike ride. This was my mantra for 112 miles. People began passing me in huge packs and I didn’t flinch for a second. Today was a race between me, myself and I.
Literally at the very beginning of the bike ride (first 100 feet), I saw Dave. I hadn’t heard from him leading up to the race and thought he might still race even though he was injured from his LP recon trip five weeks prior. Unfortunately Dave was a spectator on Sunday. I felt really bad about that. I know he will rock IMLP in 2008 though.
At the outset, I began to read people’s names on their race numbers to keep my mind occupied. When 750+ people pass you over the course of 400+ minutes, you’d be amazed by how many interesting combinations of names you’ll come across. Here are some of my favorite pairs: Smart who was closely followed by Wise. Rod exposed himself to me right before Marble (note: singular not plural). Rich passed by and so did Money. Flatley zoomed by and so did Hills. No joke folks, I couldn’t script this stuff if I tried!
I spun as efficiently as possible as I climbed out of town. The first few miles are a steady climb before you begin the sickest descent you’ve ever seen into the town of Keene. I waited 15 minutes before I began my nutrition plan. Gatorade, PB&J, Balance Bars, Water, PowerGel. The amount of fuel that I slammed into my system over the course of the 6:41:38 bike ride blew my mind in retrospect. I really feel like I nailed my nutrition, or at least came pretty damn close to nailing it. Some people call nutrition the 4th discipline of triathlon. It might as well be called the 1st discipline in Ironman, because if you screw yourself on nutrition, you are…well…screwed.
The climb out of town felt effortless. I was all smiles and loving life. When you hit the descent dropping down into Keene it will blow your mind if you haven’t done it before. I am a self-proclaimed downhill wuss and was getting passed like crazy on the huge descent. As slow as I was going relative to the rest of the field, I still managed to hit 43.1 mph. A new record for my bike!
After you finish off Route 73, you bang a left onto 9N. 9N is an awesome section on the course. It is really the only spot during the ride that offers riders a sustainable section of flat riding. I started spinning in my big ring and was still all smiles. After 57 minutes into my bike ride, I got passed by Josh! I joked with him that I couldn’t believe he only let me hold onto my lead until 9:00am. I saw him twice on the run as well. He really crushed that course on Sunday.
The left turn on Route 86 is where things really start to get interesting. The real climbs begin here, but they’re nothing like what you’ll face when you hit the Whiteface Mountains. I climbed slowly and spun up the hills with my two best friends – The Small Ring and The Granny Gear! I also should mention that prior to the race I switched out my 12/25 for a 12/27. It made a big difference. If you are doing a hilly IM course, I highly recommend you consider making this decision as well.
I remember seeing two folks pass me around this section of the course. Your age was on your right calf and I distinctly remember getting passed by a “60” and then by an “18”. Ironman is just so all-encompassing. Old people. Young people. Short people. Tall People. Big People. Skinny People. You name it and you’ll see it out on course. I felt awesome to be one of those people on July 22nd. There was also this awesome little kid on Route 86 playing a bugle. He was out there playing on my first loop AND on my second loop. I think he was out there consecutively for hours on end. So. Awesome.
After a climb on Route 86 you hit one of my favorite sections on the course – Haselton Road. Haselton is a 7 mile out and back section on the course and is completely closed to traffic. The out and back is awesome because it’s the only spot on course where you can actually see other racers who are actually behind you. At the turnaround my first thought was - there are people behind me? I thought everyone in the race passed me in the first 30 miles! When you finish off Haselton the real climbing begins. My average speed began to drop like mad. No worries though. I was really loving life on the bike course and soaking up every amazing second of it.
I climbed and climbed and climbed back into town. There were so many amazing volunteers and cheering spectators on course during this climb. I tried to thank each and every one of them. On the last big hill of the loop, you reach a climb right before the right hand turn onto Northwood Drive. It felt like I was in the Tour de France. There were hundreds of people lined on both sides of the road. Cowbells. Screaming. Cheering like Mad. My smile was just impossible to remove from my face. I also knew I would see Silvia, Mom and Dad in only about 1 mile as well and that was more important than anything you can put in a Special Needs Bag.
When I got to my Special Needs Bike Bag at mile 55, I felt awesome. My cyclometer said I had only been on course for a little over 3 hours. I was totally stunned. During my recon trip five weeks prior to the race I rode the full 112 and my first loop was 3:31. I was racing way beyond my expectations. I pick up some PB&J, ate a Balance Bar and was on my way. Only took about 2 minutes at Special Needs. More importantly, my support crew was right across the street from special needs. This was very cool. I smiled and gave my thumbs up to Silvia’s and Dad’s cameras. I tried to ham it up as much as possible. I got back on the bike and finished off the final mile of the first loop. 3:10 on the dot. About 20 minutes faster than expected. I was just so friggin’ excited at this point, but was also nervous that I had gone too hard.
On the second bike loop, everything feels bigger! Downhills feel more dangerous and the climbs feel like they last twice as long. Most of the people who would pass me did so during the first loop. As tough as the bike course was, I still felt damn strong. I was nailing my nutrition and had the energy that I needed for this ride. The wind started to pick up on the second loop and it seemed to make both the downhills and climbs slower. Pacing was the name of the game and I felt like I was doing a good job. During my recon trip I managed to only positive split my 2 loops by 9 minutes. I knew I went out strong enough on my first loop to not make this a possibility. I ended up positive splitting the bike ride by 21 minutes, which I think is still within the realm of respectable. 6 hours 41 minutes and 38 seconds is forever to be locked and loaded on a bike. I tried my best to not think of the course as being a 112-mile ride. I focused on descending Route 73. I honed in on big ring spinning on Route 9N. I climbed Route 86. I went face to face with other racers on Haselton Road and I fended off the Whiteface Mountains. All of these felt like isolated rides in and of themselves and that mentality really helped me. Breaking up the day into small battles was a must for my sanity.
I felt like I was on cloud nine when I was finishing off my ride. I saw Silvia, Mom and Dad again in their same spot. That was a big lift. I crossed the timing mat and could not have been happier to be off of that bicycle seat! I was having the race of my life.
T2 – 8:44
T2 was definitely a scarier place than T1. There were some pretty banged up people in the Iron Dude’s Tent. I grabbed my bike-to-run gear bag and sat down in a seat next to Rod (remember him from earlier?). Rod was in what seemed like really rough shape. His face and body were completely salted over. He could barely speak. His nutrition plan seemed to have failed him. He told the volunteer that he had not taken in calories or hydration in HOURS. This really scared the piss out of me. I felt bad for the guy. I tried to say something comforting by telling him to hang out in the tent for a while and take in nutrition. It was only 3:00pm. He could sit in the tent for 2 hours if he wanted and still finish by doing a 7 hour marathon. I don’t know if Rod finished. I hope he did. Low and behold I put on all of my clothing in the proper order in T2! I did a full change into loose and comfortable marathon clothing. Let’s just say that I wasn’t interested in wearing my bike shorts anymore as I wasn’t stopping on the side of the road for my de-fuels during the ride. Lovely. I know. It felt awesome to have some loose gear on. I’ve never felt happier to start a run than I was after 112 miles in the saddle. I suppose that’s the blessing of wanting to get off a bike really bad. It makes you actually want to run!
The Run – 4:50:35 (I only lost 1 spot in aggregate on the run. Simply amazing!)
When I left the dude’s tent, I saw the official race clock and it read almost 8 hours to the second. This was the first time all day that I thought about the finish line. I did some quick math in my head and realized I could do 20 minute miles walking for the entire marathon and still come in before midnight. I decided at that second that the three most important factors were now the following: do not stop ever for even a second of this marathon, do not do anything stupid to injure yourself, and take in calories and hydration like it’s your full-time job. I believed that if I adhered to these three rules, I would be an Ironman.
The crowds in town were just what I needed at the start of the marathon. Everyone out there really energized me. For the bike ride I wore my “Lisnoff” race number and for the run I wore my “Jeremy” number. I wanted to hear “Go Jeremy” out there on the marathon course and I quickly found out how much this really boosted my spirits. The run course is basically an out-and-back set-up and you do a lot of downhill running on the front half and a lot of uphill climbing on the back half.
The first few miles clicked away at a pace that was much faster than I anticipated. I found my run legs earlier than I thought I would. I was consistently knocking off the early miles of the marathon between 9:00 to 9:45. My strategy for the run was to run to every aid station and walk through the aid stations. This strategy worked well for quite a while. Just like the bike ride, I took the marathon in small battles as opposed to thinking of it as a marathon. It was all about just getting to the next aid station. Nothing. Else. Mattered. My spirits were still very high early on in the marathon.
Early on in the run I saw Joe and Josh. They looked strong and were both cruising. I gave my thumbs up to both of them and continued on my way.
The miles continued to tick away and I was amazed that I continued to clock sub-10 minute miles. It was really blowing my mind. My stomach had no problems with taking tons of hydration and calories. Such a huge difference from my debacle at the Black Bear Half Iron race only seven weeks prior.
Everyone out on the course was so supportive. Competitors joining forces on the run was really cool to see. The climb back towards Lake Placid is where I started to feel the first effects of what was the longest day of exercise of my life. I picked my battles wisely on the uphill climbs and opted to power walk instead of attempting a modified death shuffle run. I think this strategy worked well. In fact, my power walk was no slower than many people around me who were attempting to run. Pick your battles folks. Pick your battles. As hilly as the bike course is in Lake Placid, I felt the hills on the run were harder. This may be the most understated part of IMLP. The run course is just an absolute beast. When you get closer to town, the crowds get thicker and thicker. It was just so damn awesome. Written words can not do this experience justice.
Right before Mile 12, I saw Silvia, Mom and Dad. It was a big boost to see them. They were perched right next to the Run Special Needs Bags. I opted not to take anything from my Run Special Needs Bag as I felt awesome about what I was taking in at the aid stations. I opted instead for a big sweaty kiss from Silvia. The crowd LOVED IT! Someone in the crowd started chanting – LOVE-R-BOY. LOVE-R-BOY. LOVE-R-BOY. Before I knew it, I literally had about 100 people chanting LOVE-R-BOY. LOVE-R-BOY. LOVE-R-BOY. I got a huge kick out of the whole thing. It was just what I needed to take my mind off the fact that I was over 10 hours into my race.
After I hit the mile 12, my legs offered their first protest to me. They quickly informed me that my run to the aid station and walk through the aid station routine was no longer my strategy. I kept saying to myself, keep moving, keep hydrating, keep taking in calories and do not get injured. That’s all that mattered. I had almost 7 hours left to complete my last 14 miles. The clock was a bit irrelevant as long as I kept moving.
After the 12th mile I saw my wife and my folks for the final time. I said “see you at the finish line”. This was the first time all day that I had guaranteed a finish. I had no choice but to finish now. Silvia, Jan and Howie were waiting in the Oval.
Miles 12 through 23 were just really effing hard. There’s no other way to say it. They were the longest 11 miles of my life. My legs were exhausted from my day. I decided my new strategy was to run for as long as I could and walk when I felt I needed to. This was entirely too unfocused and did not work. I opted instead to pick a time, such as five minutes, to run and then walk for a minute. As the marathon got longer into the day, the runs got shorter and the walks got longer. BUT I NEVER STOPPED MOVING. Not. Once. When I hit the Mile 15 aid station I realized that I was not only physically tired, but I was very sleepy tired as well. My best friend for the rest of the marathon became flat Coke. I can’t even begin to tell you how amazing this tasted. Caffeine was such a welcome new ingredient in my body.
Towards the end of the marathon I felt like I was taking just about everything I possibly could from each aid station. At one aid station I think I managed to take one cup of Gatorade, one cup of flat Coke, one cup of water, two sponges and a full cup of ice! This is Ironman folks. Don’t sell yourself short on fuel.
Miles markers seemed to take forever to get to between miles 12 and 23. Nine minute miles that I was clicking off on the first loop became 11, 12 and 13 minute miles on the second loop. I was just so damn tired out there on the course. As I mentioned earlier, I began a run/walk combo. At first I tried to do it based on time. Deeper in the marathon I opted to pick points on the road to run to instead. At times these spots were no more than 50 to 100 feet from where I was. These miles were all about sheer will and determination.
At mile 19 I remember running through the Ford Inspiration message center which put a message on an electronic board that was activated by your timing chip. Silvia created the message a day before the race but I told her not to tell me what it said so I could be surprised. The message said the following - #292 Come on Old Man. I though this was a bit goofy. Maybe she was just joking because I’m a young guy. I would later find out that this WAS NOT the message that Silvia created for me. In fact, her message was something like – Stay strong Hubby. So I can only assume that some older gentlemen out on the course got my hubby message at some point during that race! You gotta love technology.
Mile 20-23 were pretty damn hard. There was a lot of climbing and at this point in the day my legs had really taken a beating. Just keep moving forward, keep taking in hydration and calories, and do not get injured. Nothing. Else. Mattered.
I had been looking at my watch a lot during the second loop. I was on target for a 13 hour Ironman. Not in my wildest dreams could I have predicted that. I thought that if I had the perfect day, I could just break 14 hours. When I hit Mile 23, I decided that for 3.2 miles I would cut out the drama queen nonsense. I decided that I would refuse to finish at 13:01. If for some reason I can never do Ironman again, I wanted to be able to say 12:59 as opposed to 13:01. All of a sudden nothing hurt anymore. I became a man on a mission obsessed by the idea of a sub 13 hour Ironman. I began passing people all over the place. In those final 3.2 miles I tried to soak in the experience as best I could.
I’ve never felt more inspired in my life than in those last 3.2 miles. All of the training, all of the mornings, evenings and weekends away from home. In the pool, on the bike and pounding the pavement. I was about to finish Ironman and do so 1 hour faster than my highest expectation.
I hit the IGA Hill and ran. No walking anymore. Sub 13 was calling and I became possessed by the vision of seeing the finish line in the Olympic Oval. I saw Greg, who was volunteering on the IGA Hill. We shook hands and he gave me lots of compliments as I moved my way towards the finish. Very cool guy indeed and I hope to meet him again in the future. In the last 2 miles I dropped the hammer as best I could. You could not stop me from smiling. My goosebumps as entered the Olympic Oval were out of control! I had plenty of room in front and behind me for a great solo finish at the tape. As I entered the Oval, I heard – Mike Richter, you are an Ironman. Mike Richter is a former NHL goalie for the New York Rangers and was doing Ironman for the first time. He beat me by one minute.
The Olympic Oval is a special place at Ironman Lake Placid. The crowd is massive and the noise is deafening. As I rounded the Oval, I saw the finish line and the clock. It read 12:50. I was in awe of the moment. You try to remember these moments in life as best you can, but the reality of the situation is that it was a blur to me. I had one fist in the air as I approached the finish and I heard Mike Reilly say – Jeremy Lisnoff from Wayne, Pennsylvania. I can’t even remember if he said “you are an Ironman”, but I assume he did. I have never felt higher in my life than I did as I came around the final bend in the Olympic Oval and crossed the finish line.
12:50:13
July 22, 2007 was a special day in my life. It was the party to celebrate my journey back to health. On race day I toed the line at 178 pounds - compared at 209 pounds only two years prior. I was strong enough to run hard as I finished my day. More people finished after me in Lake Placid than before me. Craziness! I smiled at every chance I had. I said thank you to every volunteer. I owned that day. It will be mine forever.
Only two years before Ironman, I could only run for 4 minutes without stopping. How about that for a little perspective? I drew a line in the sand 2 years ago and decided that I was going to take my health and my life back, and that is precisely what I have done. Although the race is over, my continued journey to maintain a healthy lifestyle will never end. Thank you so much for being such a big part of this journey. I hope that along the way this blog has served as an inspiration for at least one person to make changes in their life like I did two years ago.
After finishing off the swim in fine form I went hunting for strippers! Wetsuit strippers that is. My stripper was not a flirty buxom blonde. In fact, my stripper was a tall and lanky dude. He told me to get on my backside pronto…very much the dominatrix stripper! This dude absolutely rocked. I think my wetsuit was off in no more than 3 seconds. The volunteers were awesome in Placid. All 3500 of them. I said my goodbye and thank you to said stripper and started my ¼ run up to the Olympic Oval and Men’s Changing Tent. The run on the carpet is wild. Just hundreds and hundreds of people cheering. It was such a rush. I saw my parents out of the corner of my eye during the run up to the Oval. Sweet! After grabbing my swim-to-bike gear bag I plopped down in a seat in the Iron Dude’s Tent. After dumping all of my stuff out of my bag and onto the ground I pull the rookie mistake of the day and put my helmet on first. Next I went for my bike jersey. Ummm…Earth to rookie…Earth to rookie. You can’t fit a bike jersey over your helmet. I started to laugh my ass off in the tent and the fella next to me did too. Picture a turtle who can’t pop his head out from his shell and you pretty much get the picture. At least I lightened the mood, right? So I still need to learn how to dress myself…no big deal. When I finally figured out how to put everything on in the right order, I was off for my little bike ride. 112 miles of spandex on bike seat action.
The Bike: 6:41:38 – 917 overall after the ride (I got passed by 752 people!!!)
What can I say…no one confused me for a cyclist at IMLP. But I really can’t stress this point enough…do not worry about anyone else but yourself in an Ironman bike ride. This was my mantra for 112 miles. People began passing me in huge packs and I didn’t flinch for a second. Today was a race between me, myself and I.
Literally at the very beginning of the bike ride (first 100 feet), I saw Dave. I hadn’t heard from him leading up to the race and thought he might still race even though he was injured from his LP recon trip five weeks prior. Unfortunately Dave was a spectator on Sunday. I felt really bad about that. I know he will rock IMLP in 2008 though.
At the outset, I began to read people’s names on their race numbers to keep my mind occupied. When 750+ people pass you over the course of 400+ minutes, you’d be amazed by how many interesting combinations of names you’ll come across. Here are some of my favorite pairs: Smart who was closely followed by Wise. Rod exposed himself to me right before Marble (note: singular not plural). Rich passed by and so did Money. Flatley zoomed by and so did Hills. No joke folks, I couldn’t script this stuff if I tried!
I spun as efficiently as possible as I climbed out of town. The first few miles are a steady climb before you begin the sickest descent you’ve ever seen into the town of Keene. I waited 15 minutes before I began my nutrition plan. Gatorade, PB&J, Balance Bars, Water, PowerGel. The amount of fuel that I slammed into my system over the course of the 6:41:38 bike ride blew my mind in retrospect. I really feel like I nailed my nutrition, or at least came pretty damn close to nailing it. Some people call nutrition the 4th discipline of triathlon. It might as well be called the 1st discipline in Ironman, because if you screw yourself on nutrition, you are…well…screwed.
The climb out of town felt effortless. I was all smiles and loving life. When you hit the descent dropping down into Keene it will blow your mind if you haven’t done it before. I am a self-proclaimed downhill wuss and was getting passed like crazy on the huge descent. As slow as I was going relative to the rest of the field, I still managed to hit 43.1 mph. A new record for my bike!
After you finish off Route 73, you bang a left onto 9N. 9N is an awesome section on the course. It is really the only spot during the ride that offers riders a sustainable section of flat riding. I started spinning in my big ring and was still all smiles. After 57 minutes into my bike ride, I got passed by Josh! I joked with him that I couldn’t believe he only let me hold onto my lead until 9:00am. I saw him twice on the run as well. He really crushed that course on Sunday.
The left turn on Route 86 is where things really start to get interesting. The real climbs begin here, but they’re nothing like what you’ll face when you hit the Whiteface Mountains. I climbed slowly and spun up the hills with my two best friends – The Small Ring and The Granny Gear! I also should mention that prior to the race I switched out my 12/25 for a 12/27. It made a big difference. If you are doing a hilly IM course, I highly recommend you consider making this decision as well.
I remember seeing two folks pass me around this section of the course. Your age was on your right calf and I distinctly remember getting passed by a “60” and then by an “18”. Ironman is just so all-encompassing. Old people. Young people. Short people. Tall People. Big People. Skinny People. You name it and you’ll see it out on course. I felt awesome to be one of those people on July 22nd. There was also this awesome little kid on Route 86 playing a bugle. He was out there playing on my first loop AND on my second loop. I think he was out there consecutively for hours on end. So. Awesome.
After a climb on Route 86 you hit one of my favorite sections on the course – Haselton Road. Haselton is a 7 mile out and back section on the course and is completely closed to traffic. The out and back is awesome because it’s the only spot on course where you can actually see other racers who are actually behind you. At the turnaround my first thought was - there are people behind me? I thought everyone in the race passed me in the first 30 miles! When you finish off Haselton the real climbing begins. My average speed began to drop like mad. No worries though. I was really loving life on the bike course and soaking up every amazing second of it.
I climbed and climbed and climbed back into town. There were so many amazing volunteers and cheering spectators on course during this climb. I tried to thank each and every one of them. On the last big hill of the loop, you reach a climb right before the right hand turn onto Northwood Drive. It felt like I was in the Tour de France. There were hundreds of people lined on both sides of the road. Cowbells. Screaming. Cheering like Mad. My smile was just impossible to remove from my face. I also knew I would see Silvia, Mom and Dad in only about 1 mile as well and that was more important than anything you can put in a Special Needs Bag.
When I got to my Special Needs Bike Bag at mile 55, I felt awesome. My cyclometer said I had only been on course for a little over 3 hours. I was totally stunned. During my recon trip five weeks prior to the race I rode the full 112 and my first loop was 3:31. I was racing way beyond my expectations. I pick up some PB&J, ate a Balance Bar and was on my way. Only took about 2 minutes at Special Needs. More importantly, my support crew was right across the street from special needs. This was very cool. I smiled and gave my thumbs up to Silvia’s and Dad’s cameras. I tried to ham it up as much as possible. I got back on the bike and finished off the final mile of the first loop. 3:10 on the dot. About 20 minutes faster than expected. I was just so friggin’ excited at this point, but was also nervous that I had gone too hard.
On the second bike loop, everything feels bigger! Downhills feel more dangerous and the climbs feel like they last twice as long. Most of the people who would pass me did so during the first loop. As tough as the bike course was, I still felt damn strong. I was nailing my nutrition and had the energy that I needed for this ride. The wind started to pick up on the second loop and it seemed to make both the downhills and climbs slower. Pacing was the name of the game and I felt like I was doing a good job. During my recon trip I managed to only positive split my 2 loops by 9 minutes. I knew I went out strong enough on my first loop to not make this a possibility. I ended up positive splitting the bike ride by 21 minutes, which I think is still within the realm of respectable. 6 hours 41 minutes and 38 seconds is forever to be locked and loaded on a bike. I tried my best to not think of the course as being a 112-mile ride. I focused on descending Route 73. I honed in on big ring spinning on Route 9N. I climbed Route 86. I went face to face with other racers on Haselton Road and I fended off the Whiteface Mountains. All of these felt like isolated rides in and of themselves and that mentality really helped me. Breaking up the day into small battles was a must for my sanity.
I felt like I was on cloud nine when I was finishing off my ride. I saw Silvia, Mom and Dad again in their same spot. That was a big lift. I crossed the timing mat and could not have been happier to be off of that bicycle seat! I was having the race of my life.
T2 – 8:44
T2 was definitely a scarier place than T1. There were some pretty banged up people in the Iron Dude’s Tent. I grabbed my bike-to-run gear bag and sat down in a seat next to Rod (remember him from earlier?). Rod was in what seemed like really rough shape. His face and body were completely salted over. He could barely speak. His nutrition plan seemed to have failed him. He told the volunteer that he had not taken in calories or hydration in HOURS. This really scared the piss out of me. I felt bad for the guy. I tried to say something comforting by telling him to hang out in the tent for a while and take in nutrition. It was only 3:00pm. He could sit in the tent for 2 hours if he wanted and still finish by doing a 7 hour marathon. I don’t know if Rod finished. I hope he did. Low and behold I put on all of my clothing in the proper order in T2! I did a full change into loose and comfortable marathon clothing. Let’s just say that I wasn’t interested in wearing my bike shorts anymore as I wasn’t stopping on the side of the road for my de-fuels during the ride. Lovely. I know. It felt awesome to have some loose gear on. I’ve never felt happier to start a run than I was after 112 miles in the saddle. I suppose that’s the blessing of wanting to get off a bike really bad. It makes you actually want to run!
The Run – 4:50:35 (I only lost 1 spot in aggregate on the run. Simply amazing!)
When I left the dude’s tent, I saw the official race clock and it read almost 8 hours to the second. This was the first time all day that I thought about the finish line. I did some quick math in my head and realized I could do 20 minute miles walking for the entire marathon and still come in before midnight. I decided at that second that the three most important factors were now the following: do not stop ever for even a second of this marathon, do not do anything stupid to injure yourself, and take in calories and hydration like it’s your full-time job. I believed that if I adhered to these three rules, I would be an Ironman.
The crowds in town were just what I needed at the start of the marathon. Everyone out there really energized me. For the bike ride I wore my “Lisnoff” race number and for the run I wore my “Jeremy” number. I wanted to hear “Go Jeremy” out there on the marathon course and I quickly found out how much this really boosted my spirits. The run course is basically an out-and-back set-up and you do a lot of downhill running on the front half and a lot of uphill climbing on the back half.
The first few miles clicked away at a pace that was much faster than I anticipated. I found my run legs earlier than I thought I would. I was consistently knocking off the early miles of the marathon between 9:00 to 9:45. My strategy for the run was to run to every aid station and walk through the aid stations. This strategy worked well for quite a while. Just like the bike ride, I took the marathon in small battles as opposed to thinking of it as a marathon. It was all about just getting to the next aid station. Nothing. Else. Mattered. My spirits were still very high early on in the marathon.
Early on in the run I saw Joe and Josh. They looked strong and were both cruising. I gave my thumbs up to both of them and continued on my way.
The miles continued to tick away and I was amazed that I continued to clock sub-10 minute miles. It was really blowing my mind. My stomach had no problems with taking tons of hydration and calories. Such a huge difference from my debacle at the Black Bear Half Iron race only seven weeks prior.
Everyone out on the course was so supportive. Competitors joining forces on the run was really cool to see. The climb back towards Lake Placid is where I started to feel the first effects of what was the longest day of exercise of my life. I picked my battles wisely on the uphill climbs and opted to power walk instead of attempting a modified death shuffle run. I think this strategy worked well. In fact, my power walk was no slower than many people around me who were attempting to run. Pick your battles folks. Pick your battles. As hilly as the bike course is in Lake Placid, I felt the hills on the run were harder. This may be the most understated part of IMLP. The run course is just an absolute beast. When you get closer to town, the crowds get thicker and thicker. It was just so damn awesome. Written words can not do this experience justice.
Right before Mile 12, I saw Silvia, Mom and Dad. It was a big boost to see them. They were perched right next to the Run Special Needs Bags. I opted not to take anything from my Run Special Needs Bag as I felt awesome about what I was taking in at the aid stations. I opted instead for a big sweaty kiss from Silvia. The crowd LOVED IT! Someone in the crowd started chanting – LOVE-R-BOY. LOVE-R-BOY. LOVE-R-BOY. Before I knew it, I literally had about 100 people chanting LOVE-R-BOY. LOVE-R-BOY. LOVE-R-BOY. I got a huge kick out of the whole thing. It was just what I needed to take my mind off the fact that I was over 10 hours into my race.
After I hit the mile 12, my legs offered their first protest to me. They quickly informed me that my run to the aid station and walk through the aid station routine was no longer my strategy. I kept saying to myself, keep moving, keep hydrating, keep taking in calories and do not get injured. That’s all that mattered. I had almost 7 hours left to complete my last 14 miles. The clock was a bit irrelevant as long as I kept moving.
After the 12th mile I saw my wife and my folks for the final time. I said “see you at the finish line”. This was the first time all day that I had guaranteed a finish. I had no choice but to finish now. Silvia, Jan and Howie were waiting in the Oval.
Miles 12 through 23 were just really effing hard. There’s no other way to say it. They were the longest 11 miles of my life. My legs were exhausted from my day. I decided my new strategy was to run for as long as I could and walk when I felt I needed to. This was entirely too unfocused and did not work. I opted instead to pick a time, such as five minutes, to run and then walk for a minute. As the marathon got longer into the day, the runs got shorter and the walks got longer. BUT I NEVER STOPPED MOVING. Not. Once. When I hit the Mile 15 aid station I realized that I was not only physically tired, but I was very sleepy tired as well. My best friend for the rest of the marathon became flat Coke. I can’t even begin to tell you how amazing this tasted. Caffeine was such a welcome new ingredient in my body.
Towards the end of the marathon I felt like I was taking just about everything I possibly could from each aid station. At one aid station I think I managed to take one cup of Gatorade, one cup of flat Coke, one cup of water, two sponges and a full cup of ice! This is Ironman folks. Don’t sell yourself short on fuel.
Miles markers seemed to take forever to get to between miles 12 and 23. Nine minute miles that I was clicking off on the first loop became 11, 12 and 13 minute miles on the second loop. I was just so damn tired out there on the course. As I mentioned earlier, I began a run/walk combo. At first I tried to do it based on time. Deeper in the marathon I opted to pick points on the road to run to instead. At times these spots were no more than 50 to 100 feet from where I was. These miles were all about sheer will and determination.
At mile 19 I remember running through the Ford Inspiration message center which put a message on an electronic board that was activated by your timing chip. Silvia created the message a day before the race but I told her not to tell me what it said so I could be surprised. The message said the following - #292 Come on Old Man. I though this was a bit goofy. Maybe she was just joking because I’m a young guy. I would later find out that this WAS NOT the message that Silvia created for me. In fact, her message was something like – Stay strong Hubby. So I can only assume that some older gentlemen out on the course got my hubby message at some point during that race! You gotta love technology.
Mile 20-23 were pretty damn hard. There was a lot of climbing and at this point in the day my legs had really taken a beating. Just keep moving forward, keep taking in hydration and calories, and do not get injured. Nothing. Else. Mattered.
I had been looking at my watch a lot during the second loop. I was on target for a 13 hour Ironman. Not in my wildest dreams could I have predicted that. I thought that if I had the perfect day, I could just break 14 hours. When I hit Mile 23, I decided that for 3.2 miles I would cut out the drama queen nonsense. I decided that I would refuse to finish at 13:01. If for some reason I can never do Ironman again, I wanted to be able to say 12:59 as opposed to 13:01. All of a sudden nothing hurt anymore. I became a man on a mission obsessed by the idea of a sub 13 hour Ironman. I began passing people all over the place. In those final 3.2 miles I tried to soak in the experience as best I could.
I’ve never felt more inspired in my life than in those last 3.2 miles. All of the training, all of the mornings, evenings and weekends away from home. In the pool, on the bike and pounding the pavement. I was about to finish Ironman and do so 1 hour faster than my highest expectation.
I hit the IGA Hill and ran. No walking anymore. Sub 13 was calling and I became possessed by the vision of seeing the finish line in the Olympic Oval. I saw Greg, who was volunteering on the IGA Hill. We shook hands and he gave me lots of compliments as I moved my way towards the finish. Very cool guy indeed and I hope to meet him again in the future. In the last 2 miles I dropped the hammer as best I could. You could not stop me from smiling. My goosebumps as entered the Olympic Oval were out of control! I had plenty of room in front and behind me for a great solo finish at the tape. As I entered the Oval, I heard – Mike Richter, you are an Ironman. Mike Richter is a former NHL goalie for the New York Rangers and was doing Ironman for the first time. He beat me by one minute.
The Olympic Oval is a special place at Ironman Lake Placid. The crowd is massive and the noise is deafening. As I rounded the Oval, I saw the finish line and the clock. It read 12:50. I was in awe of the moment. You try to remember these moments in life as best you can, but the reality of the situation is that it was a blur to me. I had one fist in the air as I approached the finish and I heard Mike Reilly say – Jeremy Lisnoff from Wayne, Pennsylvania. I can’t even remember if he said “you are an Ironman”, but I assume he did. I have never felt higher in my life than I did as I came around the final bend in the Olympic Oval and crossed the finish line.
12:50:13
July 22, 2007 was a special day in my life. It was the party to celebrate my journey back to health. On race day I toed the line at 178 pounds - compared at 209 pounds only two years prior. I was strong enough to run hard as I finished my day. More people finished after me in Lake Placid than before me. Craziness! I smiled at every chance I had. I said thank you to every volunteer. I owned that day. It will be mine forever.
Only two years before Ironman, I could only run for 4 minutes without stopping. How about that for a little perspective? I drew a line in the sand 2 years ago and decided that I was going to take my health and my life back, and that is precisely what I have done. Although the race is over, my continued journey to maintain a healthy lifestyle will never end. Thank you so much for being such a big part of this journey. I hope that along the way this blog has served as an inspiration for at least one person to make changes in their life like I did two years ago.
I am such a fortunate person to be able to compete in something like Ironman. No matter how much pain I thought I was going through between miles 12 through 23 of the marathon, I just kept telling myself how many millions of people would want to be in my shoes that are not healthy enough to pursue something like this race.
If there is one thing that I have learned from my mother’s battle with cancer it is that we are all living on borrowed time. Tomorrow is not promised. On July 22nd, I raced with a passion that defines my very core. Every day for the rest of my time on Earth I will strive to live life with the same passion that I carried for 12 hours 50 minutes and 13 seconds on July 22nd in Lake Placid.
If there is one thing that I have learned from my mother’s battle with cancer it is that we are all living on borrowed time. Tomorrow is not promised. On July 22nd, I raced with a passion that defines my very core. Every day for the rest of my time on Earth I will strive to live life with the same passion that I carried for 12 hours 50 minutes and 13 seconds on July 22nd in Lake Placid.
posted by Jeremy at 1:44 PM
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