Ironman Lake Tahoe - The Race, The Myth, The Legend

Packet pick up with Jenn and Steve

 First off - to those of you that said we were making the bike course out to be harder then it was...this is what I have to say to you - you were WRONG!  We were spot on.  

Everyone always freaks out about the weather the closer it gets to race day.  Ironman Coeur d’Alene 2011 (my first IM) proved to me that you should be prepared for everything, but not worry about the weather.  It is what it is and you can’t control it. 

Ironman Lake Tahoe drove this point home.  When Steve, Jenna and I dropped our bikes off in T1 on Saturday rain was falling and the lake was white capping.  Let me restate that, driving rain was coming at us from what seemed like all angles and it felt like someone was throwing needles at our faces.  The lake was almost unrecognizable and looked more like the Northern California coast.  The rain was so thick, you couldn’t see the mountains across the lake.  I dropped Kunoichi on her rack (which had no other bikes on it at the time, so I somewhat imagined I would arrive Sunday morning to find her up in a tree from a massive gust of wind…) and left my T1 bag (which we double bagged with garbage bags) on the cold asphalt, outside, in the rain.  I snapped a quick picture of the “lake” and ran back to the truck.  I was soaked to the bone.  A big shout out to the volunteers who were out there for hours helping receive bikes and bags for us.  We dropped our T2 bags at Squaw Valley (they were set up on tables inside a tent) and headed back to the house with a request for hot cocoa and the fire to be burning when we arrived. 

Lake Tahoe or the Pacific Ocean???

 As we made our way back to Truckee Facebook posts began reporting SNOW!  I knew it wasn’t cold enough to stick, but really, snow???  After about 10 minutes at the house…it began to snow.  Still, I didn’t freak.  I worried a bit about ice on the roads from them not drying over night, but knew tomorrow was a new day and we just couldn’t predict what it would bring.

Thanks to Fiona and Hans, Sunday morning I woke up about 1 mile from the swim start.  They were kind enough to open up their condo to Steve, Kristina, Karrie, and I so we didn’t have to worry about race morning traffic.  I got up at 3:30AM, slowly got all my breakfast down and then laid back in bed trying to relax my nerves and warm up some before we headed out into the 30* weather.  Out the door we went at 5:15 to meet Jenna and Chris and head to the swim start.  Big thanks to Chris for driving us down to the swim start and saving us from having to do 141.6 miles that day :)

I had bundled up, even grabbing some old ski gear we had at the house (a white cotton shirt with snowflakes on it, one size to small, which left a few inches between my wrists and the cuffs).  It was chilly outside, but I was dressed to keep warm and didn’t feel too cold.  I began to put my wetsuit on after pumping up my tires and putting my nutrition on my bike.  The clock was ticking and our swim start time was slowly approaching.  Due to a shoulder issue I decided to go with a sleeveless wetsuit and arm sleeves.  

Following my nutrition plan, about 15 minutes before I got in the water I ate a Gu…I didn’t think about the cold weather…my Gu was frozen.  It entered my mouth as a freezing cold chunk of sliminess.  Somehow, through laughter that brought me to tears, I got it down.  

Frozen Gu face...

Steve, Kristina Large and I were standing at the swim start when they began the Star Spangled Banner.  I was just in my wetsuit at this point and began to shiver.  Kristina took her jacket off and put it on my shoulders and hugged me through the entire song as I stood there shivering.  Her kindness and the emotions of the culmination of the training for the event we had been swimming, biking, and running for over the past year brought tears to my eyes.  Steve and I headed to the swim start.  As we lined up in the back of the 1:10-1:20 group, Steve asked if I would join him in a short prayer.  His words were kind and brought me to ease, and even made me laugh as the crowd shuffled forward Steve said “it’s ok, we can walk while praying, God will be ok with that.”  As we approached the swim entrance arch I looked up and took in the scene at the lake.  The sun was just starting to come up and a thin layer of fog lay over those already swimming.  Buoy tips emerged from the fog and paddle boarders flowed across the lake as if in slow motion.  The snow capped mountains (yep, there was no snow the day before) set the back drop for what is the most gorgeous swim I think I will ever do in my life, it simply can’t be duplicated.  I crossed the mat, entered the 60ish degree water and so began the next nearly 14 hours of my life.

No words can describe this.  I didn't think a picture would capture it, but Karrie has done it here!

The clarity of the water was amazing, making drafting a simple task, the fog however made sighting nearly impossible.  I am a left-sided breather, but the sun was casting a pink glow on the mountains and clouds to the right, so I switched it up and breathed to the right…it was worth it, even though, for some reason, I always go off course when I breath to the right.  My swim was the smoothest I have ever felt.  I stayed with the crowd, which allowed for less sighting on my part.  Loop one was over before I knew it.  A paddle boarder came right next to me and as I turned my head left under water three silver caps (male pros) came gliding by me as if I was standing still.  Rounding the last turn buoy for the first loop put me smack dab in the middle of a pack of people walking.  I kept swimming as I didn’t want to lose my rhythm.  Lap two led to some calf cramps, for which I slowed and moved my ankles around to keep myself loose.  Before I knew it I was nearing the end of the swim.  I swam in as far as I could, scooped some water into my wetsuit and stood up.  Music was blaring and the crowd was cheering.  I walked (what the heck, I had a marathon later in the day, I was kinda frozen, and I just wanted to take it all in) to T1.  I skipped the wetsuit strippers as I wanted to stay as warm as possible before entering the changing tent.

We had so many sherpas come to support us in Tahoe, that I heard my name called multiple times as I exited the swim.  The kids are the best.  I think they somewhat understand what we’re doing, but not quite to the full extent.  That being said, I heard Bryce (Missy’s little boy) say “there’s Liesel!”.  His enthusiasm in the freezing cold, early morning and my remembering his question the day before (are you going to win?  HA!) made me smile.  

Our AMAZING Sherpa crew (minus a few)

I attempted to grab my T1 bag by the strings, but quickly changed my mind as I realized the strings were frozen.  I picked it up and hugged it all the way to the tent.  The changing tent was packed.  During my CdA I had a chair and a volunteer to myself.  The scene here was a little different.  The tent was packed, there were bare butts all over the place and carnage of wetsuits strewed along the floor of the tent.  I found a roughly 2ftx2ft spot in the tent and dumped my bag.  Fingers crossed I got into all my clothes and was able to collect all my own swim gear and get it back into my bag.  I opened my toe warmers and jiggled them around so they would begin to warm up.  I got myself dressed, with no assistance, which is a pretty decent feat in itself…anyone who has attempted putting a sports bra on when you are wet will know what I’m talking about!  I grabbed my toe warmers to stuff in my toe covers, only to discover they hadn’t warmed up.  They didn’t work.  I stopped in my tracks.  What to do?  It had warmed up some outside, but was maybe 40*s.  I shoved them back into my bag and headed out the tent to my bike.  Nothing I could do now.

I walked to my bike (remember, marathon later, why run now?).  As I crossed the mount line I heard my name called out.  I looked back over my shoulder to see Jenna hopping on her bike as well.  I wished her good luck and head out on what would consume the next 7 hours and 30 minutes of my life.

The first 20 miles of the bike were harsh.  Not necessarily due to the terrain (aside from Dollar Hill), but because I could not feel anything beyond the ball of my foot.  As we headed down 89, I began rotating unclipping my left and right foot and moving my ankles around to try and bring them back to life.  As we approached the turn to River Street I considered calling it a day.  I felt fine, but my feet were so cold I began to worry about frost bite.  It felt like there were blocks of ice in my shoes and began to wonder how long my feet could be this cold before frost bite set in.  Was it really worth losing toes to complete the race?  I know to those of you who were not there, this may sound a bit over the top.  But as anyone who did the race or spectated.  It was freaking cold.  Due to all the coasting down 89, I knew I had started out slower than I wanted, but it was worth it to save my toes, although I still couldn’t really feel them.

I passed through Truckee’s Commercial Row and began the next climb/switchback set into the neighborhood North of Truckee.  On the descent I saw Rob and Christa cheering.  They were my first Sherpa sighting and a much needed sight to see!  A bit down 267 we made the turn into Martis Camp.  The “secret” section of the course that runs through a Ritzy neighborhood that didn’t want anyone to bike/drive through it prior to the race.  These climbs proved to be the toughest on the course and mentally, the most taxing.  I kept my eye on my power meter, trying my best to keep my watts down, but there came a point where if I lowered my cadence any more I would no longer be able to balance on the bike.  The climbs were too steep for the gears I had (compact crank and 11-28).  Roadies were passing me left and right (due to the climbs on the course, there were far more road bikes than I have seen at other IM events), but I stuck to my plan and continued to climb at what I later discovered to be roughly 4.5mph…during the athlete briefing meeting the USAT official told us that they WOULD be giving drafting penalties on the climbs.  SERIOUSLY!!!  I looked up the hill as 60+ athletes were lined up climbing and wondered if there would be enough space in the penalty tent for all of us…needless to say, I did not see anyone receive a drafting penalty.  As we approached the top of Martis, I got the ski lift in sight and focused on it, knowing, once I reached it the climb would be over.  To my horror, I then noticed switchbacks and cyclists continuing to climb.  The beast wasn’t over yet.  Soon I reached the top, legs taxed, but with some feeling in my feet.  Maybe I wouldn’t lose any toes after all!

The Martis Camp descent was technical, fast, and FREEZING.  The final descent led straight into a sharp right turn which led to the beginning of the Brockway climb.  This is what we had trained for at Mount Scott for months and the mental fortitude we built from these training sessions are what got me through that climb.  I sat back in the saddle, and knew the next 25 or so minutes would just be a long slow climb.  My legs were fatigued as I reached the summit and I wondered how I would complete these two climbs again, but at mile 80.  

In the words of Andy Martinez "Why is the background at such an angle ;)"

Descending Brockway was fast and again FREEZING.  As I approached 28 I heard cheers from more of our Sherpas.  Monica, Kristina Berry, Rachel Hale, the Chapa Clan, Cyril, and my parents were there at the corner whooping and yelling for us as we passed.

Sherpas!

Lap two of the bike was pretty uneventful, aside from the fact that my contact came out on 89.  I had looked down at my Garmin and then noticed the vision in my right eye was blurry.  I could feel my contact on my eyelid.  I shut my eye and "held" onto it until I could pull over to stop.  I whipped my gloves off and somehow rescued my contact and got it back in my eye.  The rest was similar to lap one…only a bit slower and I could finally feel my feet!  Familiar faces were all over the course, which made a tough day a little more manageable.  I saw our neighbor Doug and Anthony as I climbed up to the bike trail behind Truckee.  Anthony whipped out his mountain climbing skills and flew to the top of the climb to get me on video.  Christa and Rob were still going strong at the corner of death and my parents were at the entrance to Martis.  The last two climbs were brutal.  The field of cyclists had cleared out on the climbs.  The last two climbs were brutal!  As I neared the top of Brockway I noticed a man in a speedo in the middle of the road and some crazy lady with a camera (Karrie) came running up next to me (at what seemed like light speed) and jogged along side me (probably a damn slow pace for her).  I shared some expletives regarding her sauntering along side of me as I was moving at a snail’s pace.  Kristina Large had summoned a group of sherpas at the top of the climb who ran and cheered for me as I finished my ascent.  As I was approaching I began to rack my brain as to why I had wanted to stop at the top of Brockway.  I couldn’t remember and so kept going.  As I began the descent my memory returned…I had wanted to pull up my arm warmers.  F*ck it was COLD!  As I flew down Brockway at speeds over 40mph, there was nothing I could do about it.  Loud Sherpa cheers came as I turned onto 28 and began the final stages of my ride.

As I turned into Squaw Valley to complete the bike portion of IMLT I was both happy to get off my bike and a bit worried about how I would complete my run.  I hopped off my bike, grabbed my Garmin and entered the changing tent.  Due to the desolate ride I had on loop two I thought most people would be out on the run course by this time.  However, it seemed nearly half the T2 bags were still on the tables.  They called out my number and a sweet little girl ran me to my bag.  As I entered the changing tent I saw Nancy, who I had met at lunch the first day we arrived in Truckee.  I changed quickly and she asked (motherly-like) if I had a long sleeved shirt.  It was getting chilly again (I don’t know if it was ever NOT chilly that day, but the sun was going to be going down soon). 

I headed out on the run course.  Every step, for the first mile or so, felt like my quads were tearing each time I landed.  As I exited Squaw I heard our sherpas and looked to the side to see Missy standing with them.  Missy had started the race with me, but was pulled on the bike course.  All I wanted to do was run over to hug her, but she had a smile on her face and yelled for me as loud as the rest of our sherpas had been yelling all day.  At that point I told myself I had to get over my legs hurting.  If she had the courage to come back out on the course, I had to get my butt in gear and get at this run.

Smiling and running

As I began the run down the trail leading out of Squaw, I kept an eye out for my friends who were coming in on the bike.  I saw Steve and yelled out to him to catch me (but not to take off too fast!), I just remember him pointing his finger at me as if to say “I’m coming to get you!”.  He had a huge smile on his face!

I heard an unfamiliar voice yell my name as I headed into Squaw Creek, only to discover that it was a high school friend, Anna Foletta, who was out cheering on another friend at the race.  Surprise supporters were a welcome sight.  Karrie and Kristina were at the bottom of the hill cheering for me as I passed.  The next portion of the course would take us out the opposite way of the bike course to Tahoe City.  I had taken off easy so as to stick to my plan of a negative split, but about 6 miles in I began to feel a tightness in my chest.  Altitude and Asthma don’t mix.  When this starts I am unable to get a deep breath and not long after I get a side stitch.  I kept running, taking deep breaths and stomping my right foot as I landed trying to get rid of the stitch.  It would subside and then reappear.  So was the process for the remainder of the run.  At some point someone told me I had a great stride and cadence...everyone knows what that means...you look like sh*t, but we'll try to make you feel better by saying that :) 

#1 Sherpa, Kristina!!!

There is a point in every endurance event when one’s brain stops functioning as it should.  I realized I had reached this point when I ran up to a porta potty, saw the latch was on red and convinced myself red meant it was available…after tugging on the door a few times a voice said, “it’s all yours in a sec”.  Oh yeah, green means go…red means stop.  Oops.

As I rounded the corner to head back up to Squaw, I thought I was having another endurance brain fart when I looked over at the volunteer handing out chicken broth and thought she looked oddly like Karrie.  Her jacket was unzipped just enough for me to get a glimpse of her shirt and sure enough she was wearing a Team Fort Worth shirt.  What the heck was she doing? (she had decided she was going to be out there awhile, so she might as well help out :) what good sherpas we have!).   

Sherpa Karrie :)

This next portion consisted of walking (I walked all hills), convincing myself to continue running, and then more walking.  My chest hurt, it was getting really cold and my legs were just plain fatigued.  As I crossed back over Squaw Creek I heard that voice yell “GO STRIKER” (high school soccer nickname) and I gave Anna the best smile I could muster at that point.  I had seen many friends on the run course at this point and all brought smiles to my face.  The last person I remember seeing was Jenn Thomas.  She waved and smiled at me as we passed.  As I headed back up to Squaw I looked up at the mountains I realized how absolutely stunning the scenery was.  The sun was reflecting off the golden field to my left and shadows were cast across the mountains standing in front of me.  It was breathtaking (maybe that was partly the asthma :)).

Our large Sherpa clan had moved to near the finish chute and their loud cheers energized me as I entered Squaw (you know those evil Ironman Race Directors always make you loop back around by the finish line, so you can hear it…but know you’re not there yet!) to begin my second loop of the run.  As I looped around and ran past them again I noticed Kelly with them.  He was whooping just as loud as the other sherpas.  Kelly, too, had not made a cut off and was unable to complete his Iron day.  The amazing part about this, is that he was out there.  Cheering for his friends and his wife who were still on the course.  I got so much energy from just seeing him out there, I can’t even put it into words.  Every Ironman is tough, but I can only imagine how hard it is to pick yourself up from being told that today is not your day and coming back out to support others.  I got the kick I needed and headed back out.

Darkness was setting in.  I clicked on my head lamp and began the Ironman shuffle.  I had 8 miles to go.  I had seen Misty on my first loop and she was looking STRONG!  I was just waiting for her to catch me on the run.  I had a few moments of weakness on my last lap.  I walked some flat and had to talk myself into running, as I would be done faster if I did.  Kristina ran with me for a bit and handed me my California Love hat to finish in.  It was cold and dark and lonely out there.  No longer could I make out the faces of other runners.  As I began my last descent of 89 I shined my light on every bib until I found Misty.  We said “hey” as we passed, I think we barely recognized each other in the pitch black.  I was on a downhill and kicked it in, it hurt, but I wanted this thing to be over.

I had to take the final stretch in pieces.  Get to the hill, then Squaw Creek, then the break in the road (OMG, where is the break in the road, did I miss it?  Was it really this far…), then to the water stop, then to the beginning of the chute.  I heard Mike Reilly’s voice as I approached the chute.  He was calling in Ironman.  

I had never been so happy to finish a race in MY LIFE.  I was told I would be emotional at my first marathon.  When I finished that, I crossed the line, put my hands on my knees and wondered why the heck I had signed up for a marathon…then I went on to do many more…which led to triathlons…then to an Ironman…then to another Ironman…I guess I didn’t get my own memo.

As I ran over the cobblestones (little hard to stand up straight on) I got a huge smile on my face.  The energy of the finish chute was overwhelming.  I ran down giving high fives to kids and all those cheering for us.  I was so excited I didn’t even notice I was high fiving all our sherpas.  

Monica made my picture!

I put my hands in the air in victory.  I had just competed Ironman #2.  My legs were toast.  I walked into the arms of a catcher, who wrapped my in a blanket.  My parents were standing on the side of the chute and my dad gave me my medal and my mom a huge hug.  I little further down I saw Kristina, who had snuck in saying she was bringing me my asthma medicine.  I was embraced again.  I had tears in my eyes.  The beast had been conquered.  It wasn’t pretty, but it was what I had expected.  I know I say I’ll never do a flat Ironman (I get bored too easily!), but after tackling IMLT, I just might change my mind!  

 

With the rents post race

The DNF (Did Not Finish, or as we like to say Did Not Fail) rate at Tahoe was nearly 25% (this does not include those that did not start the race, it would jump to 34% if it did).  This was the highest DNF of any IM to date.  To everyone who toed the line that morning, I say congrats.  To be able to say you did even part of that course is a HUGE accomplishment.  For those that finished and those that came back out to cheer on others, I am so glad to have you all as Iron brothers and sisters.  

Done!