Race Report - Rev 3 Quassy, June 2014

1.2 mi swim, 56 mi bike, 13.2 mi run centered at Lake Quassapaug amusement park in Middlebury, CT.

Another hard course.  But since that description is relative and has been used recently (eh hem, Zofingen, looking at you!), I thought I'd share some elevation gain data from all the 70.3's and 140.6's I've done, including also the American Zofingen duathlon and the upcoming Ironman Boulder.  As anyone who tries to look this stuff up can tell you, reported elevation gain for any course is all over the place.  What I'm showing is either from my 910XT or information I found on the internet (in grey). 

Course	Date	Bike Distance	Bike Elevation	Run Distance	Run Elevation	Total Gain	Bike Gain/Mi	Run Gain/Mi	Course Gain/Mi
Buffalo Springs	June 2002	56	992	13.1	882	1874	17.7	67.3	27.1
De Diamondman	Sept 2003	56	1000	13.1	236	1236	17.9	18.0	17.9
IM Lake Placid	July 2010	112	4804	26.2	998	5802	42.9	38.1	42.0
AmZof short	May 2012	29	2885	10	1565	4450	99.5	156.5	114.1
AmZof middle		58	5770	15	2484	8254	99.5	165.6	113.1
IM Syracuse	June 2012	56	2306	13.1	834	3140	41.2	63.7	45.4
IM Wisconsin	Sept 2012	112	6437	26.2	1138	7575	57.5	43.4	54.8
IM Mt. Tremblant	Aug 2013	112	5686	26.2	981	6667	50.8	37.4	48.2
Rev3 Quassy	June 2014	56	4101	13.1	876	4977	73.2	66.9	72.0
IM Boulder	Aug 2014	112	3200	26.2	624	3824	28.6	23.8	27.7

(Distance is reported in miles.  Elevation gain is reported in ft.)

-- The swim course was a triangle shape run in the clockwise direction.  The middle leg had us swimming straight toward the sun which made visibility difficult for me.  The water was lovely, aside from a couple of moments of motor-boat gas/oil odors.  My wave (all women over 40) was last, which resulted in less contact than in other events I've done.

-- The swim exit/T1 was up hill on shoddy chip seal, which was very uncomfortable for my feet.  I wouldn't have wanted to run it.  Being in the last wave meant very few bikes in transition when I got there.

-- This translated to a pretty clean bike course, as 90% of the field had left me in their dust.  Many of the steep downhill segments had pretty nice pavement, which I scouted ahead of time by car.  Nice pavement + straight steep descents + few people --> new max speeds in the Cervelo's aerobars.  There are also a couple of dodgy sections involving tight s-curves descending to intersections, and I saw an injured participant pretty early on.  The course is a single loop with only a short out-and-back section between miles 35.5 and 41.5, so there is little opportunity to check for friends until you get to miles 53-56, which the run course shares (mi 0-3).

-- The run course is quite tough, and shaped something like a figure 8 with the first/top loop much larger than the bottom one.  It has 2 short out-and-back sections, at miles 4.8-6.1 and miles 10.0-11.7, and offers little opportunity to find friends in different swim waves on the course.  It is all on roads adjacent to the lake, with a mix of full sun and full shade.  A portion of one road, leading to the first out-and-back segment, was dirt and had some fairly prominent ruts, so I paid more attention to my footing than I tend to in races of this kind.  The final 100 yd or so were on a grass field.  

-- Race organization/details.  This was a nicely run event with bike aid stations at miles 15, 30, and 45, and run aid stations something like every 1-1.5 mi.  The event felt warm and friendly, an impression I gained b/c they let my friend Ashley do race morning check in (she flew in from France the morning of mandatory bike check in so without this accommodation, could not have done the event), and because they held the finish line open for the last participant to cross at clock-time 9:45.  Personally though, I could do without the pre-race prayer.

Why this event?
Once upon a time (25 years ago), I lived in CT and I used to go to this amusement park.  And while I rode my bike somewhat often, I never really went anywhere other than the 5 mi loop around my neck of the woods or the 5 mi loop over to my friend Kathy's house.  I also ran track in high school, but almost never ran anywhere but the track.  So it seemed somewhat fitting to go back and explore more of this place while enjoying a hobby I've been involved with now for some 13 years.

My race... was not a race.  I knew the course was tough, and my training just didn't go well over the winter.  This was a long, brutal and somewhat soul-crushing training day, but nothing more.  However, because my nutrition went well and because I managed to mostly skirt the sea of negativity, I can consider this day a success. 
 
Results
S, 46:47 (including wetsuit strip), pace 2:25/m (division place 41/55)
T1, 4:04
B, 4:00, 14.0 mph (division place 44/55)
T2, 4:12
Run, 2:42, 12:21 min/mi (division place 45/55)
Finish, 7:37 (gender place 157/197, overall place 640/745).

Race Report - American Zofingen Short Course, May 2014

This isn't exactly an easy race to describe.  The short story is that this is a duathlon offering 3 race distances, it's held just west of New Paltz, NY in Mid May, and it is a very hard course.  The specifics go like this.  

-- The run course is 5 mi long, through the Mohonk Preserve on mixed terrain.  Mixed being grass/dirt/rocks, crushed cinder, over a downed tree and also over planks of wood that act as mock bridges.  It is not entirely run-able, as some sections of this hiking trail are just so steep.  The elevation gain is ~825 ft (by my watch).

-- The bike course is 29 mi long with an elevation gain of 2885 ft.  

Bike Course

 

Run Course

The 3 event distances are:
-- Short Course/CWD (= Canadian Women's Division, a.k.a. "hard") - 5 mi run, 29 mi bike, 5 mi run = 4535 ft elevation gain.
-- Middle Course/F1/Chris Gleason Memorial (a.k.a. "extremely hard") - 5 mi run, 29 mi bike, 5 mi run, 29 mi bike, 5 mi run = 8245 feet elevation gain.
-- Long Course (a.k.a. "sadistic") - 5 mi run, 3 loops for 87 mi bike, 3 loops for 15 mi run = 11,955 feet elevation gain.

Those facts however, don't quite do this event full justice.  Some of the color commentary collected over my years of attendance go like this: this race is where open running speed goes to die; if it were easy, if everyone finished, it'd be called Ironman; this event is harder than Ironman Lake Placid; the AZ course is like stapling your sack to the floor and standing up!!.  The national anthem is played on a bagpipe; the piper sometimes wears a kilt; the flag is a US-flag-imprinted umbrella.  Packet pick up used to be held some 12 miles away in a shack tucked away up a steep and narrow road that put you in a place where you expected to hear banjos playing and to perhaps be surrounded by a pack of ill-cared-for dogs.  See also this blog for additional comparisons to other sporting events.

Some some scenes from the course.

Transition

Road in park to transition area

Along Butterville Rd

Along Rt 44/55

Along Rt 44/55

Along Rt 44/55

Somewhere along Granite/Lower Granite (I think)

Why this event?
Well it started with Heather.  She does the long course and in Oct 2011 (when registration opened) suggested I give it a try.  I read the distance description and knew I couldn't tackle such a thing so early in the year, as hockey is my main focus over the winter months.  I signed up for the middle distance and conned my friend Ashley into doing so as well.  That first year (race in May 2012) I had no goal and also no honest understanding of what I had gotten myself in to.  It was really warm out and I took the DNF after completing the 2nd run lap instead of destroying myself to go for the event finish.
-- R1, 1:08:28 (stopping for nearly 10 min to help a girl who was cramping and freaking out)
-- T1, 3:52
-- B1, 2:13:40
-- T2, 3:51
-- R2, 1:18:12 (wiping out after tripping over a rock)
-- This DNF totaled 4:48:03 and would have been a 3rd place finish in my age group had I signed up for the short course.

May 2013 was supposed to be retribution, but I was technically a DNS as I was never going to be able to participate after the time I'd taken off from training while trying to sort out what my hip issue was.  I still went up there to ride one lap of the bike course while my friends raced.  The weather was terrible.  Cold, rainy, low 50's at the race site but colder and super foggy out on the bike course, and a drastic change from what was predicted for the weekend.  Most participants were inappropriately dressed for this reason.  I actually stopped for a bit b/c I was shaking so hard I was afraid I'd crash.  Read this epic race report for a better understanding of conditions that day.
-- B, 2:27:00.

2014 was about a legitimate finish.  And to make sure it happened, I registered for the short course.  Goals included dialing in my transition times, keeping both run segments <1 h, beating my DNF time and hopefully posting a better bike time.

My race
For starters, I veered from my normal pre-race dinner (salmon) to have the special (pasta), and also slept poorly, in an uncomfortable bed possibly wrapped in plastic; at least that would explain why I was so damp-feeling all night.  At any rate, my first run lap was terrible.  My legs felt super heavy and also too unresponsive to run over the varied surface.  I walked all the up hills and even most of the down hills.  I was dropped right away and within the first few minutes knew my whole day was not going to go to plan.  

In this "run" I pondered how I could be so drastically under trained for this, decided I would not do Boulder, quit triathlon and training in general, and also decided to quit hockey and be a fat/lazy slob for the rest of my life.  Yes, I was that unhappy.  I also contemplated cutting through the woods to quit without even finishing out the first run leg.  I wonder what I would have done if I hadn't carpooled with Ashley, but at the time I realized waiting around for her would be boring, so I may as well keep plugging along.  Since I knew I was last, I squatted in the woods for a moment of relief, so I could try to keep other portions of my race on track.

Specifically, T1.  Stopping for the bathroom during transition would have killed my time goal.  As it was, I did a great job here even though I split my focus to tell Mindy what had happened to me.  (I was sooo late she was worried about me, and I appreciate that someone was).  I exited transition with a celebratory fist pump in the air which motivated the crowd to cheer me on.
 
I found the 2nd to last person on the first climb of the loop, weaving dangerously all over our lane of travel, but it took me until most of the way down the first decent to catch up with her (mi ~2.5).  By this point she was riding just about in the middle of the road, and the car and I had to move into the on-coming lane to get around her.  I wasn't feeling as good on the bike as I did my first year here, as my finger splint affected my breaking a bit which led to reduced confidence in bike handling.  My max speed on a course like this is usually about 40 mph but it was only 35 mph this time around.  I was also cold and grumpy that I had ripped off my long sleeved shirt out of defiance after finishing the first run lap.  There may have been some head winds along the southern edge of the course that also contributed to my slower-than-desired pace.  

Emotions on the bike ranged from "yay, at least I'm biking now and in my element", to "damn, wish I didn't take off my extra shirt b/c now I'm freezing," to "I hate this and why the F do I keep signing up - I'm never doing this again," to the total boost of FINALLY passing someone round about mile 27.  I was not going to be last!  But I sure didn't hit my desired average bike pace.  

I hit my T2 goal time and felt really good coming off the bike.  Seriously good.  Legs felt strong, feet felt light.  I decided to cast aside all things that had not gone as planned today and shoot for the new goal to negative split the run.  I power marched all the serious up grades and ran down them confidently.  I pushed hard for the finish, completing this run 10 min faster than the first one and feeling really proud that despite the bad start and missed goals, I came very close to hitting my desired overall race time (which was 4:29).

Results
R1, 1:10:23, pace 14:05 min/mi, (last place)
T1, 1:22
B, 2:18:05, 12.6 mph, (60th place)
T2, 1:06
Run, 59:56, 11:59 min/mi, (50th place)
Finish, 4:30:55, 3rd to last place.

This event is small enough (67 short course participants, 65 finishers) that I managed to get a mug for being 3rd in my age group.  Never mind there were only 3 of us, total.

Lessons for next time
Next time?  I'm sure you wonder why I would ever come back here.  This question gets asked whenever I talk about this course, and also by myself while I'm doing it.  I suppose I have to start with "why do anything?"  Why do any race a first time?  For the beautiful venue?  For the race organization?  For the personal challenge?  Yes, those things, but also because merely attempting this one makes me stronger both physically and mentally.  I also get a kick out of this small event where I recognize some faces from the few years I've been a repeat customer.  And let's not forget this reason - the middle distance course and I have unfinished business.

To that end, I've got the following take away lessons.  First off, doing well at this event requires sincere off-season focus.  This isn't a "nice little event to throw in the beginning of the season, to start things off".  Sure, it can be one hell of a work out.  But doing my best here means this event will get A-race status next time around.  Secondly, what ever kind of winter we may have, I think I can look forward to plenty of off-season squats.  Or maybe I can find a 20-story building that will let me run up its fire stairwell.  Third, I should stick to what works for my pre-race meal, even if the special on the menu sounds yummy.  Finally, I guess I'm now at an age where hitting the ground running requires a pre-race warm-up, so I'll bring my bike trainer and spin for some minutes before moving my bike to transition.  I used to think only the people hoping to win races did this, but now see it might also be for people who need to start out a crazy trail run with a good amount of agility so they don't break an ankle.

Pre-amble to 2015 race
Hey Zofingen,
I want you to know I hear you over there, whispering and giggling in your little group with my other inner demons. I see you smugly swinging your satchel of crushed souls without a care in the world. It only seems fair to warn you, I'll be taking mine back tomorrow. No, I don't expect it to be easy. In fact I'm pretty sure it's going to hurt. A lot. It's still gunna happen though. Until then...,
-Sue.

Race Report - Treasure Island Sprint Triathlon, Oct 2013

Taking place in Point Pleasant, NJ, on Oct 6, this was the 6th running of this event (or so I think I heard the RD say at the morning pre-race meeting, though I only find 2 prior years of results).

Why this event?
After Mt. Tremblant, I was looking for something to do with myself and had considered the ChesapeakeMan Aquabike event (2.4 mi swim, 112 mi run) on Sept 22.  I thought this race would be a nice opportunity to push the swim pace which I never do, and also to demonstrate better nutrition on a long bike segment.  But the problem was I was pretty darn slow to recover following this year's ironman.  I felt better the few days following the race (as I have I the past), but then I started feeling worse.  My efforts at very short runs and longer bike rides were uncomfortable and, still not understanding what the heck is going on with my "hip", I backed out of doing this event.  I titled the email to my coach containing this decision "empty calendar" and unexpectedly he came back with this sprint race and "I think it would be a nice race to close out Tri season with and take a run at a podium spot!".  

Podium spot?  Is he delusional?  I typically finish after 75% of the field no matter the race distance.  But I figured, what the heck, and conned 1 friend (different age group!) into signing up with me.  

The Course
- The 0.25 mi swim was a very acute triangle, essentially an out and back along the shore line of the Manasquan River, and was salty.  Beach access, in water start.  I'm guessing low 70's for water temp.
- The 10.5 mi bike was 4 loops of a popsicle design (6 x 90 degree turns), actually looking more like a lower case letter d with transition near the bottom of the straight edge, with minor surface undulation that can't be called hills but prevents the word flat from being appropriate either.
- The 3 mi run was 1 loop of the bike course.  If you're confused about how this math adds up (1 loop = 3 mi, 4 loops = 10.5 mi?), you're not alone.  

Race Management
The event was very small, with a limit of 300 participants (I believe) among the duathletes, triathletes, aquabikers, and kayak triathetes, so packet pick-up was a snap.  Course markings and volunteers were ample for such a short course, and the 2 aid stations were more than I could figure out how to use.  The race venue is a river front park with the finish next to a covered picnic area, which had enough goodies to meet my immediate needs.

My race
All the women were in the last wave with the aquabikers.  I lined up at the front of the swim and had no contact issues as the fast swimmers left quickly and the water was mostly clear for me.  My swim time probably reflects the benefit of my not having to swim around anyone else.  I got out of the water and quickly got the top half of my wetsuit off, and then discovered how awkward it is to run with the long arms flapping around me.  So I grabbed those in one hand and continued on, across sand, a small bit of dock, and then across grass to transition.

I got my wetsuit off easily enough but had a slow transition anyway.  My pony tail was up a bit high and interfered a little with getting my helmet on.  And I fumbled with getting my race belt on.  I'm not used to messing with it during T1, but this race wanted us to wear the number on the bike.

The road was just wide enough for the number of participants and was shared concurrently by cyclists and runners.  I shifted gears frequently since the road wasn't completely flat, and most of the time my chain was rubbing (seems I need a derailleur adjustment).  I wanted to try to push 20 mph, believing I needed to in order to stand a chance of placing, but I couldn't hit it.  I seemed to be between 16.8 and 18.8 when ever I looked and was wondering if I could even keep that up.  Usually I put a lot of fluids away on the bike but I was so focused on maintaining my pace that I nearly forgot to drink anything.  Luckily it wasn't hot. 

T2 was pretty simple.  I lost a couple of seconds debating whether or not to grab my gu (Honey Stinger brand, actually).  I didn't feel like I needed it before the swim (which is what I brought it for) and couldn't think clearly whether or not I wanted it now.

I tore into the gu upon leaving transition, then fumbled with getting the wrapper into my back pocket.  But I stuck with it rather than being one of those inconsiderate types who just dumps their trash where ever along their paths to greatness.  At this point it was clear I was running at an unsustainable pace (watch said just over 8 min/mi) so I slowed a bit.  But I made sure to press hard enough that I was continuously uncomfortable, which was a completely different strategy for me vs the ultra distance races.  On the out and back section I counted that I was at least the 7th woman back, but I hadn't seen a single calf from my age group all race long.  Reading the participant list ahead of time had me thinking there'd be 6 of us competing today and I had no idea where they were.  A couple of younger women passed me shortly before I was going to let myself pick up the pace again (at least 9 places back now), and the 2nd one invited me to keep up.  I thought it was too soon when she asked but I did damn near catch her at the finish line after all, crossing just 2 sec behind.

At that moment I was pretty pleased with how I did, whatever it turned out to be, and I was grinning from ear to ear as I sprawled out on the grass to catch my breath.  The girl I nearly caught came over to say great job and added something about it being particularly cool I nearly caught her b/c she was "like 10 years younger."  As per the results, she was actually 18 years younger (gah!).  I spotted Katie's turn in to the final stretch and she looked pretty happy too, giving the finish line photographer 2 big "thumbs up". 

Results
Swim, 7:45, pace 1:50, 65th place
T1, 2:54, 60th place
Bike, 31:24, 20.1 mph, 36th place
T2, 1:08, 72nd place
Run, 23:41, 7:54 min/mmi, 85th place
Finish, 1:06:49.

This put me at 58th out of 141 finishers, 11th female out of 46 non-relay team women, and 1st in my age group.  Boo ya.  The only 3 women to beat me in the bike split were the top 3 finishers and I'm pretty pleased by that.  Some fast ladies showed up this year b/c my time would have put me only 33 sec behind the 3rd place overall for women last year and would have earned me 2nd place in 2011.  Although there is something amiss with the reported race distance (as *I* do not run 7:54 for 3 miles, particularly not this year!), this was a nice little event that I'd recommend to anyone looking for a low-stress fun end-of-the-season race.

Race Report - Ironman Mont Tremblant 2013

This is broken down into aspects of the course, how my training went vs the other two races, and the outcome. 

Part 1 - Course / Location

-- Mont Tremblant is in Quebec ~1.5-2 hours between and north of both Montreal and Ottawa and ~550 mi north of Philadelphia, PA.  It is a ski resort in the winter, so the area is hilly.  When I sought information on the course elevation, I was confused by vastly different reports of altitude gain and have finally concluded this has someting to do with reports sometimes provided in meters and other times provided in feet.  A popular question is, "how does this race compare to such and such", and the following is my point of view on that.  The data tabulated below was collected via Garmin 910XT(IMMT and IMWI), Garmin 305 (IMLP bike) and Garmin 405 (IMLP run) with elevations corrections disabled. 

For starters, the area is absolutely beautiful.  The low humidity made all the vibrant colors in the area really pop.  Plus this destination has several activities right in the village (luge - pictured below, zip line, miniature golf, some fountains to run through), for keeping children occupied while a parent was off racing.  There appeared to be plenty of accommodations here as well, which was very convenient.  (Contrast - I didn't see as much in the way of close accommodations in Lake Placid.  And I think we simply waited to long to book our hotel for Wisconsin so we ended up staying some 10-15 from transition area.) 

-- Activities leading up to race day: The town seemed to have several special events scheduled, such as live music and fireworks.  It made for a very festive environment, particularly if you were staying in the village.  Not to mention the items above and the hiking and casino as additional entertainment options. 

-- Athlete dinner: I think there is some "ho-hum" that comes with having been to more than one of these.  The entertainment was better in Mont Tremblant vs LP or WI, but the inspirational stories were seriously lacking.  Also, perhaps b/c I'm not used to being in this situation, I thought the time required to repeat things in both English and French was cumbersome.  The food quality was certainly better than found at the banquets of the two American races I've done. 
-- Race day: The race began with a fly-over by a couple of fighter jets and the usual booms from a cannon.  The swim was gorgeous.  The lake was very clean and a bit cool.  The official water temp was reported as 66 °F on race day, but I do not think it was that low and thought it felt just perfect for such a long swim in a wetsuit.  This race utilized a wave start, about which I have mixed emotions.  I was in the last wave which went off at 7 am.  The swim start was more crowded to me than the mass start in Lake Placid where it was easy to stay wide for the first loop and avoid contact.  Here the swim start is fairly narrow as it is more of a marina than a beach, and I had contact with others for the first 3-5 of 13 buoys on the outbound leg of this single loop swim.  I loved the numbered buoys that made it very simple to guage how far along I was.  (Contrast - I had no idea where I was in Wisconsin as the buoys didn't appear to be numbered and that race was my first 2.4 mi single loop swim; so I was a bit disoriented during it and particularly so due to the absolutely non-stop thick contact with other participants for the entire WI swim course.) 
-- Transition is a long hike from swim out.  But the wide red carpet was well placed and made this fairly comfortable on my feet.  (Contrast with LP where there was poor crowd control and the spectators had tracked rocks all over the narrower astro-turf carpet and pulled up the seams leaving several places to possibly trip.  Also contrast with WI where the run was up a cold concrete spiral ramp.) 
-- The bike course, as described by others in race reports, has the hills situated in such a way that confident riders won't need to use their brakes except at the 7 U-turns.  That is except for the circumstances where, 1) there are a couple of narrower no-pass zones and I found myself coming up on athletes but had to slow down since I couldn't pass them, and 2) where there are athletes who fail to stay to the right of the lane (as mandated in absolutely every triathlon people!), so I had to slow down as the only real option vs riding into the wrong side of traffic.  Here I'm speaking about the super fun down hills along Chemin Duplessis.  Boy how it hurt to use my brakes there...  I would be very remiss if I failed to mention the absolutely perfect road conditions found in Mont Tremblant.  (Contrast with Lake Placid, where the wide shoulder that many use to train is absolutely dangerous due to the terrible pavement quality.  I recall most of Wisconsin's roads were fine in a chip-and-seal kind of way, while the roads in Tremblant were smoother than a baby's bottom.) 
     The second loop of the course brought head winds that varied in direction, which was a bit demoralizing.  And of course the challenging hill section of Chemin Duplessis was more difficult on the second loop, now coming at miles 101-106.  I have no idea what kind of gearing set-up it would take to be able to spin up this, but I found it easily managable by standing on the pedals and mashing.  I am always amazed to see competitors walking hills in Ironman races, and there were many doing so here (lap 2) as well as in Wisconsin (both laps!), and I saw none of it in Lake Placid. 
-- It was T2 when I realized there were no port-a-john's in transition(?).  How could that be?  I also only saw a few already-open bottles of water.  No water station for those coming in off the bike and it was just so very hot on this day. 
-- The run begins with some tough hills in direct sunlight before transitioning to a very nice (flat-seeming) rail-to-trail path comprised of crushed cinder and covered by a canopy of lush trees.  This area was just beautiful with lake and mountain views as well.  Most aid stations had 2 (I think) port-a-potties that must have been HEAVILY utilized b/c the stench from simply running by them while they were closed was gut wrenching.  For the second loop there were several sections that were a bit dark, which made footing a little uncertain on part of the course where paver stones are used for the cross walks, but had fallen under a bit of disrepair.  Small lights were strung up for the cinder path but they didn't cast much light.  (Similar - Riverside Drive in LP which was darker than dark except for the place where they brought in a generator-powered flood lamp.  Contrast with Madison which is a fairly well-lit state capital city.)  

-- Finishing shoot experience: Mont Tremblant was extremely fun with spectators eating at outdoor restaurants, standing on the balconies of their hotel rooms and lining the walkway as the path snaked down the Pedestrian Village (above) toward the finish line, which boomed with music and people cheering.  This was kinda magical and similar to the covered Fourth St Live where IM Louisville finishes.  (Compare - LP has good crowd support in stands at the finish line but it is a bit thin and dark (!) leading up to and entering the skating oval if you are a late finisher.  Contrast with Madison, where the crowds were somewhat thin at the finish line for the later finishers.)  

-- Spectators: They were pleasant but tame.  There were many fewer spectators here in costumes than in LP or WI.  The course setup is perhaps not very ammenable to getting around. LP, WI, and KY all had busses to move people to a remote viewing area (remote with respect to transition anyway), but I'm unsure this course did.  There was some festivity at the turn around in Saint-Jovite with people sitting outside at restaurants and shops blaring music, but I'm unsure there was a means provided to transfer spectators to/from this location.  And the run spectating was sparse on the cinder trail, which honestly wasn't wide enough anyway to have the additional people.  (Compare LP, which also had lonely remote sections on the bike and run.  Contrast WI, which had multiple viewing places on the bike course as well as home owners in lawn chairs playing music AND a run through the busy areas of State St and the Univ campus which were loaded with people.  WI gets the best course spectating award in my limited experience; too bad they aren't at the finish line though.) 
-- Volunteers and race staff: Fantastic.  If you asked for something and they didn't have it, they knew where to get it (such as 2 tables down or aid station #4).  I passed one station that was out of fruit and I ran on sad only to have a volunteer sprint after me and ask if I'd like some apple sauce (which hit the spot!).  I had medical personelle inquire how I was feeling while on the bike course (medic on the back of a motorcycle), while in the transition tent, and multiple times in the finish area.  They were very attentive.  I can't count the number of times I saw a motorcycle pass with extra bike wheels on it.  I saw such things pass a couple of times in LP and in WI, but litterally countless times in Mont Tremblant.  If I happened upon a volunteer that didn't understand me well, they were always quick to find someone who spoke my kind of English.  And they brought a bunch of energy to the run course where it was getting late and people were feeling kinda awful.  (Contrast examples in LP 2010 - the bike course director who could not be bothered to answer my question during the question and answer time at the athlete pre-race meeting, and who instead actually replied with a snippy response.  And the timing guy who told me to calm down and not yell when the music was pumping so loudly I couldn't even hear myself think.) 

Part 2 - How my training went 
-- Training certainly did not go as planned.  That I got to participate in this race at all was a fortuitous outcome, let alone that I was able to finish it considering in February I was told I needed surgery to debride a torn hip labrum.  So while I hired a coach for this, I was only able to train for 15 weeks beginning from a place of almost no base fitness vs the prior efforts over 20 weeks that began from a solid base of swim/bike/run.  Interestingly though, divided by the number of weeks, my training shows a larger time commitment at ~13 hours per week.  Mileage is not far below that for WI even though I did almost no run training.  "Other" consisted of a mix of ice hockey, which I played weekly, occasional yoga, and a couple of vigorous weekends of re-sodding my property, leaving my friend Pete to opine that I was "gardening toward Ironman".

Part 3 - How my race went 
-- I took the swim easy hoping to draft off the pack of possibly faster swimmers vs killing myself to get by them only to be passed again.  But I think I'm no good at establishing who is worth drafting.  Ultimately this swim was a non-taxing PR, though I was still ready for it to be over at buoy 10 of 13 on the return side.
-- The bike segment started off well enough, but something didn't go right with my nutrition and I was feeling terribly bloated only 2 h into the ride. Despite this, and perhaps because I may possibly be crazy, the only 2 cyclists to pass me my first trip down the Chemin Duplessis were pro's finishing their 2nd lap.  What can I say, descents are fun!  The second lap, however, was anything but.  I felt increasingly ill and was barely eating anything.  Not to mention the headwinds that shifted to face us in every direction.  Nope, not my imagination; other racers felt it too.  I finished the bike segment feeling completely demoralized by my +30 min split difference and really wasn't sure I ingested enough to make it through the run.  I was hot, thirsty, ready to explode, and there seemed to be no needed services in transition. Interestingly, my hip didn't seem to be a problem at all.     
-- I started the run feeling unable to take a deep breath because I was so bloated.  But I remembered something I told a participant at the 1-off Ironman "New York" when she came in off the bike visibly upset and crying lightly.  "Soon the sun is going to go down, it's going to get a bunch cooler out, and you are going to feel better."  Turns out to have been pretty good advice.  I managed to negative split a marathon (by 7 min) that I didn't really think I was prepared for.  Before this, my longest run this year was 10 miles.  Yeah, seriously.  I walked all the aid stations and ate an untold number of orange slices and finished feeling like I had pulled that run straight out of a magic hat. 

Part 4 - Reflections

-- After Wisconsin, I had hoped to continue to move steadily away from being a BOPer (Back of Pack) toward being a MOPer (Middle of Pack) in Mt. Tremblant.  And I'd like to say, "Oh well, maybe next time..." except that next time is in Boulder, Colorado and, as I have difficulties adjusting to altitude, I predict that will be a very difficult event for me and not a new PR.  This is not meant, however, to express disappointment in the outcome of my IMMT race which, in all honesty, I'm lucky to have been able to start and even luckier to have been able to finish given the shorter training schedule and on-going uncertainties with my hip.  For this I must thank my coach, Jack Braconnier (Cadence Cycling & Multisport), who was willing to help me (Uhm, hi? Yeah, I have this big triathlon coming up, but can't do any running b/c I'm injured. Can you whip up a training plan for me? Oh yeah, it also has to include yoga and playing ice hockey. Thanks!) and not only believed early on that I could complete this race, but guided me to a finish without further injuring myself.

-- Finally, some additional shout outs.  To my friends Heather, Ashley, Jill and Matt who were also racing this course.  The out and back layout made it possible to see them several times which added some great motivation whether I was getting dropped on the bike or slowly gaining on the run.  This was extra special as I got to share high-5's with Ashley a few times as she closed in on her first full Ironman race finish.  And for a fun new experience I was able to cross the finish line with Heather, who is the one who "dragged" me in to ultra distance racing in the first place 4 years ago.  To Pete, for taking 8000 photos and talking me down from more than one anxiety attack about this race.  And to Ed, who filed an expedited passport application and drove 1100 mi in a 4-day weekend, to spend a 22 h day running around along side a 140.6 mi race course just to cheer me on.