Ironman USA - Sunday July 25th, 2004 - Lake Placid, NY

Pre-Race
I was surprisingly calm when I woke up at 4:15 on race morning. The first thought I had was "wow…14 hours…this is gonna hurt". Then I realized I was hungry so I got out of bed and made an english muffin. Normally I can't eat before a race but, as I said, I was pretty calm and I knew I had to have food in me right away. Peanut butter and jam…yum.

We (Gavin, Bill and I in one car, and Bills friends Patricia and Michelle in another) arrived at the athletes village around 5:20 am. First thing was to drop off our 'Special Needs' bags for the bike and the run at the appropriate area. I remember looking over the lake at the sunrise, the water was like glass, and the air was a little cool. We had jackets and pants on. There were hundreds of athletes dropping off their bags on this little stretch of road, but there was hardly any noise. Not like you would expect….it was surreal. The anticipation was starting to build and the air was filled with nervous energy.

Next stop was 'body marking'. A little more lively...people were chatting in line, finally realizing that we were getting close to starting. I had a few butterflies - and I told the volunteer that I was 31 years old….i'm only 30. nerves…

After a last minute bike check, and a couple trips to the potty, we walked towards the beach to get ready for the swim. We put on our wet suits and said hi to friends that happened to walk by. Last minute kisses to everyone, and bill and I were off, walking to the swim start. 1963 athletes began entering the water, waiting for the cannon to go off at 7am. I hung onto bill like a life preserver for those last 10 minutes. I don't even remember what the temperature of the water was (although I read later that it was 71 degrees). I looked around as the National Anthem was being sung to see athletes and spectators smiling and crying waiting…anticipating…unsure as to the real outcome of the day, but knowing it was going to be a life changing event.

The Swim
7am the cannon exploded, shaking almost everyone around it, and I dropped bill like a sack of potatoes…I dove under the water and began to swim. During my training I concentrated on counting every single stroke, in order to focus my mind. It got to about 5 strokes before I was clobbered in the head - over and over. I tried to find a space where I was mostly out of the reach of other swimmers and kept a steady stroke (still got clobbered often). It felt slower than I had intended, but Ironman is a long day, so I wasn't too worried about it. About 200 meters from the end I felt a sharp pain in my left calf, and realized I had gotten a massive charlie horse. I screamed and I lifted my head out of the water, and was happy to see one of the Kayak Life Guards close by. I was able to hang onto the kayak with one arm as I massaged out my calf. It felt like I was hanging there for an eternity (trying not to get clobbered by swimmers passing me), but it was probably only about 2 minutes…I swam the last 200 meters without being able to kick…bummer. My swim (1h18mins) was a good 3-5 minutes slower than I had hoped.

Off to the 'peelers' who helped me get my wetsuit off (very quickly) and over the mats to the swim-to-bike transition zone (called T1). My calf hurt, and I was nauseous. And you try changing from your soaking wet bathing suit into spandex cycling clothes with 200 other naked women in a tent that has no air conditioning. Ick…T1 took over 17minutes, which included a 5 minute massage on my calf. Onto....

The Bike
You would think 180km's on the bike would feel like hell…but it really wasn't that bad. I'm lucky to have ridden the course a number of times before the race, so I was very comfortable the whole day. It makes a big difference mentally to know where you are and what's coming up. This course is particularly hilly, but I knew where to rest and how long the really hard parts were. The craziest part of this route is the 9km's downhill into the town of Keene. My maximum speed at this time was almost 62 km/hr. Pretty fast……luckily there was almost no wind, and the roads were dry! So after the first 90K I arrived back into town to be greeted by screaming family and friends….and my mini tin of Pringles (yum). It was so exciting to see everyone - I was totally pumped up and felt like I was flying. 10 minutes later I head back out of town for my second 90K loop….excitement has decreased. Legs are tired…..my butt is getting sore….it's quiet….i'm hungry…but here comes that 9k downhill…woo hoo. The second loop took about 30 minutes longer than the first loop, which is normal (I took about 5 minutes at the special needs stop in town, and another good 5 -7 minute stop to go pee at the 120K point).

Back in town…screaming family and friends. This time as I round the corner I follow the sign that says "finish bike" and finally get off that tiny little seat…7.5 hrs after I had started. Jeannie and Nancy were there to take my bike for me and hug and scream for me (woo hoo). I was right on time at 4:09pm!!

T2 - Bike to Run tent. The cramp in my calf was finally gone, I wasn't hungry and my butt didn't hurt! All good. Change into my dry clothes, eat a quick power gel, gulp some water, a volunteer slathers me with sunblock and I'm off only 7 minutes later.

The Run
Thousands of people are screaming as I exit the change tent and head out of town for my first 13 mile loop. Wave at friends….smile….Yippee…an aid station….ugh...with more Gatorade…geez I'm sick of that stuff. Any pizza? No. Guess I'll have some water. Running…running…jogging….jogging….another aid station. I walk as I drink. I finish drinking…I keep walking. Walking. Walking. OK running again. As you head out of town the crowds get smaller and smaller. Each aid station is about 1 mile away, so you just focus on getting to the next one. And there are only 6, until you turn around and head back into town. A mile has never felt so long…ever. My pace was a very slow 12 minute mile…my slowest marathon was run on a 10 minute mile. I felt like I was crawling. I didn't have a good sense of the run course, as I had never really looked at it before. Not a good thing. I had been so focused on the bike that I hardly worried about the run. Getting to the turnaround at the 5.5mile point was awful - I honestly thought it would never come.

The nice thing about an out-and-back course is you know how far it is to get back to where you started, and the 'back' never seems as long as the 'out'. And it was true again this time…mostly. So around mile 7 I'm walk-running. I keep plugging along…til mile 9…walking. I'm tired. My stomach hurts. I HATE Gatorade. I hate power gels, and power bars…I do like pretzels, though. And was I ever craving the salt…I was liking the flat coke they were serving too…nice. Mile 10 I can hear the crowds in town…I'm still walk/running. Mile 11 I know where I am…one big hill and lots of screaming friends and family. Suddenly I can run…I felt fast. Waving. Smiling. I was excited. Mile 12 to 13 is another short out-and-back. I stop to take my vest out of my special needs bag, but I find 3 notes folded up that have 'open for inspiration' written on them. Bill has put 3 pictures with different sayings on them into my bag. One is a picture that says "Pain is Temporary, Quitting lasts forever - Lance Armstrong". OK…time to get going. I start running and am feeling good all the way to the turnaround…then I don't feel well. The realization that I have to do another 13 mile loop again has sunk in, and I want to cry. I want to stop running. Thoughts of Lance are long gone. I want to lie down….anything. I stop to pee. I rest in the porta potty….Joanne and the girls are there waiting for me. They offer power bars, and power gels and Gatorade….I want to throw up. Keep going...I wave good-bye and I run. I try to smile at screaming friends and family but I really want to beg them to take me home. I run. And I walk. I see bill running towards me at mile 15. He's almost finished and he's crying. My stomach hurts. He says 'drink the chicken broth, it'll help'. I drink chicken broth at mile 16 and I pee…and I start to feel better. Then I realize that in only 10.2 miles this thing will be over, and I can take off these shoes.

"The mind leads the body" I tell myself - and it's so true. I make a decision. Run and don't stop. Run even though your feet hurt, and you spill water on yourself when you drink. Run because when you stop to walk, eventually you have to run again and let me tell you that hurts more than if you just keep going. So I did…I ran. And the closer I got back to town the faster I ran. It's dark by now - generators were set up so that there was light on the course. I'm passing people, and I hear 'wow - look at you go', and 'holy cow - you look great - keep going'. I feel light, and fast. Mmm…they've got potato chips at the aid stations now. I eat and run. I drink and run. I smile and run. I'm doing it…3 miles to go. Up that nasty hill back in town. Friends and family and screaming fans (who are just as tired as I am - and who don't get a medal at the end). 2 miles to go…the last out and back. Don't cry…keep running. "Look at her go…". The shortest mile I've ever known, and I turnaround…1 mile to go. That' it…it's almost over. No family or friends on this last stretch. They've all headed over to the finish line to wait for me. I know they're there, and I'm running to them…knowing how they're feeling at that moment (I've been there before). The past 14 and a half hours have completely left my head - I feel like I've just started running at that moment. I look at two signs on the ground: one says "2nd Loop - Left" and the other says "finish - right". Guess where I'm going! Jo and the girls scream as I turn right and head into the Olympic stadium to run the last 200 meters on the track to the finish line. I've done it…am I sprinting? How could I be? I feel like it.

I'm trying to look to see familiar faces, but it's a total blur. I smile…I might have giggled…and there it is. The sight I have had in my head for the past year. 12 months I've spent dreaming and imagining what it will feel like to see the finish line…the clock with my time overhead…the banner I will run through…and the sound of the announcer saying my name. All those long runs where I've almost cried replaying the scene over and over in my head. And here it is…and this sound begins to erupt from my throat…no, I'm not crying…I lift my arms above my head and I'm screaming…like a woman completely possessed I'm yelling my head off. And the announcer says: "from Ottawa Canada, Michelle Collett, first time, an Ironman". I run under the clock, through the finishers banner and Nancy and Jeannie are right there.. and I say - no, I scream "holy shit…I can't believe I did that" (to be broadcast, both, on the local cable network, and over the giant big screen TV in Times Square, New York…yes they broadcast the entire Ironman live in NYC).

I did it. I am an Ironman!! And I can't wait to do it again…..

Thanks everyone for you support….See you next year in Lake Placid to cheer for Gavin!

Michelle