Ironman Coeur d'Alene 2012

Swim
After a 3:48 AM wakeup, we ate breakfast and Shaina and I drove into town. Shaina took a nap in the car while I made a critical trip to a port-a-pottie. The good news was that it was relatively clean at that hour.
Transition was a lot less stressful than in Florida. Perhaps it was because I knew what to do. Perhaps it was because I was not particularly worried about finishing (I knew I could) or any particular time goal (it's hard to know what a reasonable goal is on a new course).
At 6:15 I headed over to the start and stood next to Tim O'Donnell (a pro) as he was putting on his wetsuit and kissing his girlfriend, Mirinda Carfrae (another pro), goodbye. What a power couple. Their babies would be so good at exercising.
At 7 o'clock the cannon went off with little warning and we waded into the 59 degree water. The beach was relatively narrow and we were all packed in there. Stupidly, I started in the middle of the beach. The first 400 yards of the swim I felt as if I were in a washing machine. I wanted to stop swimming and just wait, but I realized that I would just be swum over by the people behind me. It was a truly awful experience. I should have just started wide and done some extra distance to avoid the madness. And it wasn't just me. I heard from many other people that the swim was especially chaotic. I say especially, because anytime you have 2800 people start swimming at once, it's going to be chaotic. Imagine lining up for a marathon, and having everyone close their eyes before the gun goes off. You have the Ironman mass start. The cold water exacerbated the panic. It was so cold that one person was pronounced dead out of the water (but then revived at a hospital by the marvels of modern medicine).
After making the turn back to shore for the first lap, I was sighting on the wrong building and went way wide. At least there was clear swimming out there in the middle of nowhere. On lap two I was actually swimming very fast for a bit (the key to improving my swim technique?) but it was too tiring and I fell back into my modified doggy paddle for the rest of the lap. I had a blinding headache for the swim. It was probably the too-tight swim goggles that caused that. Why didn't I know that they were too tight? Because it was my first time wearing them, of course. Everyone knows that it's a good idea to try things out for the first time on race day.
There's not much else to say about my swim except that I was 5 or 6 minutes slower than Florida after taking lessons and getting lots of practice over the last 7 months. I think my next strategy will be to take no lessons and stop practicing in the hopes that that approach has the opposite effect. I got out of the water 1:24 after starting.
T1
Transition from swim to bike was much faster than Florida. Instead of going into the changing tent and fighting for a bit of space, I just plopped myself down on the grass and did my thing. My hands and feet were pretty numb so I was not as agile as I would have liked. I actually used the volunteers to pull my wetsuit off of me because I was so dizzy and out of it. A volunteer helped me grab my bike and I was off to the bike. T1 took a bit over 5 minutes.
Bike
I set out on the bike under overcast and rainy skies. The air temperature had also dropped to 56. I was just wearing my onesie and my feet were numb but I figured that I would warm up as I got moving.
We had driven the bike course earlier in the week to scout the hills. It was hilly. The course is an out and back along the lake (approximately 15 miles total) and after you return to town, there is another out and back along a hilly highway (Idaho 95) south of town (approximately 41 miles). You do this entire circuit twice. Along the lake, there is a smallish half mile hill just to soften your legs up. Along the highway south of town, there are three monster climbs on the way out and one on the way back. During our scouting trip, we convinced ourselves that the hills were shallow enough that you could really cruise up them. That was delusional.
After setting out on the bike, I really tried to keep myself in check. It's easy to get caught up in the excitement of the race and forget how long your day is going to be. On the first little hill, there were some guys who charged up, but I stayed in my little chainring and spun up the hill and talked to the guy next to me. I love talking to people during these races.
I liked riding to a certain power number a lot. It got me working on the flats and downhills much more than I would have otherwise. And then I backed off on the uphills more than I would have otherwise. I'm convinced that it's not just a different way of riding, but that it's better. I was passing (on the flats and downhills) and getting passed (on the uphills) by a group of guys for about 30 miles. But then they faded behind me as their surges on the uphills took their toll.
The ride out of town on Idaho 95 was a bear. We were facing a headwind and monster hills. I was riding up at about 8 mph for 600, 500 and 300 foot climbs. It was nice to be able to sit up out of the aero bars, but I could tell that even though I felt stronger than Florida, my time was going to be slower. You never get the speed back on the downhills that you lose on the uphills. Speaking of downhills, the ride back into town on Idaho 95 was glorious. For the most part, it was down two huge hills and I was cruising along between 25 and 40 mph.
I was planning to pee myself on the bike, but it was so cold for the first 40 miles, that I couldn't bear the thought of being wet. Like a weinie, I pulled over and peed in a port-a-pottie around mile 35. I was concerned that I was over-hydrating given the cool and wet conditions. Later, my concern swung in the opposite direction.
On one downhill on the first lap, there was a group of people clogging the lane riding up on their bikes (not tucking for max speed). As I'm flying down the hill, I have to hit the brakes and I start screaming "Left! Left!" They eventually moved over and I continued down the hill. At the bottom of the hill, one guy from the pack caught up to me and started screaming "What's your problem? That was a no passing zone." (There were a few no passing zones where the road was too narrow). In my calmest tone, I explained that he had missed the sign that said end of the no-pass zone and that he should look more carefully for it on the next lap, but that if he didn't believe me he could take my number down and report me if it turned out I had passed illegally. I never saw that idiot again but I was hoping that I would if only so I could ask him for an apology.
As I came back into town to start lap 2, Claire told me that I was only 2 minutes behind Shaina. Unfortunately for me, that news coincided with the great "power outage of 2012." I felt as if I were flying for the first 56 miles. I guessed that training was paying off. Then around mile 58 or 60, I felt dead. I could only muster about 70% of the power that I was pushing earlier. Maybe this was the time during all my training rides that I had stopped for outrageously large lunches and my body wasn't ready to push on. I was feeling so delirious that I was staying out of the rightmost part of the lane (where you are required to ride unless passing) because I was afraid that I was going to blackout or otherwise veer into the oncoming vehicular traffic. I was quite worried about what was happening at this point.
I knew that something needed to change. I noticed that the sun was out and it was warmer so I considered that I might be dehydrated. I started drinking 20 oz of Gatorade every 10 miles, ate a salt pill and started eating Clif bars much faster. I struggled for the next 10 miles, getting passed by three 40+ year old women and almost being peed on by one of them. But I did something right, because by about mile 70 I was back and passing people left and right (this is an idiom, obviously I was obeying all USAT rules and only passing on the left). I could almost sustain the power numbers that I had on my first lap. From almost a mile away, I could see Shaina in her outrageous orange and pink bike garb and used that as further inspiration to keep going.
As I mentioned, the sun was now out and I was regretting not having sunscreen on. I wouldn't realize how much I would regret it until the end of the day when I looked at my back and saw a color that could serve as "fire engine red" for Benjamin Moore. The downhills were great on the way back into town and I started preparing myself for the run by spinning at a higher cadence.
I finished the bike in 5:51, or 19.1 mph. Not as fast as IM Florida, but the course was much more difficult and I think I did a much better job.
T2
I came into T2 and gave my bike to a volunteer and ran to the bike-to-run bags where a volunteer handed me my transition bag. Then in the changing tent, where yet another volunteer helped me get what I needed and packed up my bike stuff for me. There was no volunteer to help my apply some vaseline to my crotch, but that was probably for the best as it was all dudes in the transition tent. I stepped outside the tent and 4 women applied sunscreen to my arms, legs, back and head while I did my face. It was like a 20 second massage. I would have stayed, but there was racing to do. T2 took just under 4 minutes.
Run
Out of the gate, I was jazzed to be on the last stage of the race. So jazzed that I looked at my watch and saw that I was running 7:15 miles. Uphill. I almost had to bring myself to a stop to get to my goal pace of 9 min/miles. I pretended Drew was there, I was running with him and we were cracking jokes and mugging for the camera. My plan was to run the first 3 to 6 miles at 9:00 and then gradually pick it up. By mile 3, the fatigue was setting in and I was running 9 min/miles without trying to run that slowly. I decided to inch it up to 8:30 or 8:45 miles. At the turnaround at mile 6.5, I saw Shaina right behind me. I thought we were going to run together. But I also needed to pick up the pace and I started running 7:45 miles with one or two 7:30s thrown in. I was feeling great and felt that I was getting enough calories from the cola and sports drink that I was forcing down at every aid station. But by the time I got back into town at 13.1 miles, I was feeling pretty tired and I fantasized about wading into the lake for an ice bath instead of heading back out on the course for another 13 miles.
I tried to banish such thoughts and hit the turnaround. I was down to about 8:00 miles and was increasingly thirsty. I was trying to drink and drink but it was starting to cause me "sloshy stomach" and seemingly did nothing to quench my thirst. I wondered if the salt pill had been a little too effective. On the way out of town, I told myself that I only had 11 miles to go because the last two didn't count because they were so close to the finish. Soon I had 8 to go. Then six. The course designer put the cruelest hill on the run course at mile 5 and 19. You have to run up a 5% grade for .5 miles, then down for about .25 miles, then turn around and do it in reverse. I did everything I could to keep my legs moving and not fall down to a walk. I managed that, but my pace dropped to 9:30 or worse. By the time I had finished with that hill, I was telling myself that I only had 3 miles left (actually 5 miles) but I couldn't pick up the pace anymore. I was walking for about 30 feet through each aid station, drinking 3 cups of water in an attempt to quench my thirst and giving myself a cramp in the process. I considered walking a few times, but remembered the sign that I had seen that said "If this was (sic) easy, it would be called Your Mom." One foot in front of the other. Then I came across the lawn party where they were drinking beer and playing party tunes. I starting wondering why I wasn't doing something like that instead of doing this stupid race. With 1 mile to go, I tried to pick it up, but no go. I think it was that I was in so much pain already and I couldn't convince myself to make it more painful for almost no gain.
I know that I had energy left because with about .4 miles to go, I realized how close I was, saw Claire screaming encouragement and starting running 6:30 miles. So obvioulsy, there was something left in the tank. But with 1 or 3 miles left, I couldn't convince my body that finishing  in 11:04 or 11:05 (instead of 11:06) or finishing in 48th in my age group (instead of 49th) was worth the extra agony. The entire experience has left me thinking that half of these races is being trained and half of it is convincing your body to give you all its got. I think that very few people can actually get their body to do the latter; it's a matter of how close you can get. The run took me 3:42. A whole minute faster than IM Florida! (To be fair, it was hillier).
The finish was a slight downhill and the crowd support was terrific. I crossed the finish line in 11:06, started wobbling before someone grabbed me and carried me to a chair. From there, someone else carried/walked me to the medical tent where I drank as many fluids as possible while icing my Achilles (which had started hurting at mile 13). I tried to eat some food, but felt like vomitting.
Post-Race
It was quite hard to walk around for a while, but changing out of spandex into cotton (including my Touch Me To Finish sweats) helped me tremendously. Most importantly, we met up with the group we were staying with and went out to dinner. I could only drink two beers because I wanted water so badly. After dinner, two beers, and three cups of water, I peed for the first time in about 11 hours. Ooops. We went down to the finishing chute to cheer on the rest of the runners, including many of the ones we were staying with. There is a 17 hour cutoff for this event, and one of our group was very close to the cutoff. There was a lot of nervousness until she crossed with about 4 minutes to spare. Then one woman came across about 12 seconds too late. She'll never be on the official roll of finishers, but someone who just made the 17 hour cutoff gave her his/her medal and a bouquet of flowers and she got to celebrate with the crowd. We got home at 1:15 AM and despite a valient effort to stay up, were asleep within the hour.