Ironman Lake Placid 2010, Part One

We didn’t know what to expect when it came to Ironman Lake Placid. People warned us about the crowds. And the cyclists who hog the roads for the weeks leading up to it. And the road closures. And the general pain-in-the-arseness that goes along with a small town hosting a world class event that draws nearly 3,000 competitors and their accompanying support teams.

But I’m a sucker for big events like this. I’ll endure the inconveniences for a chance to cheer on the athletes. I’m enough of an athlete myself that I can appreciate what they’re going through, the pain they might be in, and the sheer will it takes to attempt an event like that.

Not that I’ve ever done an Ironman, mind you. That’s just crazy.

In any case, we are also in the unique position of living right on the 112-mile Ironman bike course. Mile 14-ish, to be precise. Right at the bottom of the craziest, most technical downhill portion of the course. So we had no choice but to watch since we’d be stuck at home anyway for a good portion of the day due to the road being closed and all.

On Sunday morning I woke up to the sounds of cheers and cowbells, which meant that I had overslept. Dammit. I wanted to get up in time to watch the leaders zoom by on their first lap of the course.

I quickly threw on some shoes, grabbed the camera, and cruised down to the bottom of our driveway where Ironperson after Ironperson flew by on their bikes. They came in packs, yelling “LEFT!” and passing each other as they neared the bottom of the hill.

It was awfully cool.

Willa Jean and I watched for a while until we decided it was time to wake up Dave so that he could get in on the action. After dragging him out of bed, we walked down to the center of town to find the source of the cowbells. A healthy number of spectators lined the street, cheering each and every competitor. It was a great place to watch since the course demanded the athletes slow down in order to navigate a sharp left turn. The rain held off and the roads weren’t slick, so I’m happy to report that there were no accidents, at least while we were there.

We were hungry for breakfast, but we also wanted to wait to see the leaders come back through on their second lap. So what were we to do? Oh, that’s right – one of our favorite little cafes happens to have a perfect deck to view the action. And what’s that I see? There are tables available? It’s not a 3 hour wait? Well, then, don’t mind if we do.

I know I say this ALL THE TIME – but I continue to be amazed at how ridiculously easy and pleasant and non-grumpifying it is to do things around here. Want to watch an Ironman while enjoying an omelet on the deck of one of your favorite restaurants? No problem, just walk on down the street when you’re ready. I mean, there would be a 3-month waiting list for something like that in Boston. Seriously.

Pretty soon we heard the honk of the lead car and the men’s leaders zoomed by for the second time. Not long after, the women’s leader and eventual winner, Amy Marsh, rode by. At least, I think that’s her. There was a camera following her, so that’s the assumption we made.

We hung out for a while longer and then meandered back home. Since the bike leg was far from over, we decided to camp out at the bottom of our driveway with a couple of Adirondack chairs, our puppy, and, well, beer. Yup, we’re classy. But it was fun.

Even the pup was having a good time.

And so were all of the athletes. We got lots of smiles as we cheered and clapped and yelled out encouragement. This is my favorite picture. I don’t know who she is, but she made my day.

I hope her smile was even bigger when she crossed the finish line several hours later.