Race Day
3:59am - My eyes popped open before my alarm. The room is dark and Emily was snoozing beside me. I sat up and canceled my alarm while stretching the sleep from my muscles. After making my way to the bathroom I flipped on the light and stared at myself in the mirror. “Today is the day. Today I will be an Ironman” I told myself. As rehearsed, I laid out all of my morning gear and slowly started to prep by applying salves and lubricants to key areas before pulling on my sleeveless wet suit halfway. For the rest I wore Ironman attire. This is my little way of inspiring myself to finish. I quietly walked about the dark house getting ready. My heart beating hard the whole time.
4:50am - Emily and my folks dropped me off with my remaining gear at the start. There were a gaggle of athletes milling around with their support teams. It was still dark and cool outside but at least it was not raining. The nervousness and anxiety were palpable. All around me were athletes doing last minute prep and gear checks as the Ironman spot lights hang over head and some up-tempo tunes played over the transition site speakers. I made some small talk with friends though everyone was distracted by the impending race.
The air was electrified with energy and excitement. I gave a quick kiss to Emily and hugged my parents as I headed to the starting swim area. I strip down to my wetsuit, bare feet, and lubed some remaining areas. I found myself standing in a crowd of over 1000 athletes all wearing wetsuits and neon caps chatting excitedly. 
I did note that I was one of the VERY few to be swimming in a sleeveless suit. The lake was calm and lined with rescue volunteers on paddle boards, kayaks, and boats. There were even native Alaskans in a traditional paddle boat. 
6:15am - After the national anthem a gun went off and all the athletes and spectators cheered as the inaugural Alaska Ironman race began. It was a rolling start so I patiently waited as the crowd inched towards the murky water. Spectators were cheering wildly and I got to see Emily and my folks before descending the ramp. This was the coldest allowable temperature for the race and I felt it. I dove into the dark water and was immediately consumed by the fridge temperatures. But my training kicked in and I started swimming.
My first thoughts during this epic journey were, simply that, I love swimming. Despite the cold I cruised in the lake passing people right and left. I didn’t even swim hard but enjoyed the whole experience. As the race continued the herd thinned. I felt great in the water under an overcast sky as the morning dawned. As the swim progressed I noted my hands and feet to be a bit numb but functional. Almost there.
6:48am - I clambered out of the water and started my gradual barefooted march uphill in the rain to the transition zone. 
The first half of the climb was ok because I couldn’t feel my feet however as the sensation returned I felt every little pebble on the path. Once I grabbed my waterproofed bag I strolled out of the chilly morning air and into the tent which was shockingly warm. Gasps of relief sounded from the other athletes as we all dried, warmed, and suited up for our rides. Nothing I had practiced for a quick transition worked but luckily I was not in this race for speed. After dawning my riding gear I, somewhat reluctantly, exited the warm tent into a chilly and rainy southeast morning.
7:10am - I’m off! Again my personal fan club was right at the start with signs and cheers. Once I set out on my bike I was relieved by the cool weather (I don’t do well with heat). I had the good fortune of training on the course because I live here. I tore out for the first fourth of my cycling at 2 mph above my normal average. The rain continued, the wind picked up and then died down, and the hills were still present. One of the harder tasks on the bike for me was forcing myself to eat at regular intervals. As somebody once told me, “in an Ironman it should go as follows; warmup, buffet, then run.” Trying to eat the mouth-drying bars and gels while either cranking up a hill or bombing down a slope is harder then it sounds. The trail was peppered with cheering locals and a sense of awe was in the air. 
It wasn’t until 2.5 hours in that the predictable back pain started. I have always endured back pain on long rides. It comes from lack of core muscles… I know. Therefore, I had planned rest times and durations where I could stretch, organize gear, and eat. These were life savers and I had picked out the most scenic areas to rest with views overlooking the ocean and mountains. My first half went well. After that, the muscle fatigue and other small pains started worsening. All of this I had experienced before and knew it would be coming, this just made it a mental battle, which I intended on winning though the weather was a bit distracting with its bipolar nature of storming the beautifully sunny epochs. My fan club again was there at the halfway turn. 
My first moment of doubt was on my third turn coming in on the last fourth of the cycling course. Everything hurt, I was tired, I was soaking wet and dirty, and I was riding on chip-seal. Those of you who do not know what chip-seal is; it’s a cheaper form of pavement that is extremely rough. If you can imagine everything in your body hurting and then being vibrated against your will. My only salvation was to get past the chip-seal portion but that meant I would head straight into a large uphill on smooth pavement. 
I pushed through. On my final rest two athletes collapsed and EMS was on scene in less than two minutes. I rounded the final stretch on my bike wishing I could do anything but be on the f#%!ing bike.
3:00pm - I came into the transition zone and stopped to dismount nearly falling over as all the joints in my lower half screamed in protest. One of the volunteers asked if I needed medical to which I responded, “no, but do I really look THAT bad?!” Limping towards my run bag and changing tent my spirits took another hit as I thought, after 9 hours of exercise, “and now I’m going to run a marathon.” Which I had never done before. This was a slow transition because I was sore and achy all over. There was less enthusiasm in the tent this time as I’m sure everyone was fatigued and already tired of the southeast weather. Finally I had my gear on and I set out of the tent.
Time has lost meaning - Oh my g-d the pain! As I left the Transition tent everything hurt: my joints did not want to move, I was fatigued, and I was staring down the barrel of a full marathon. I put on a smiling face and as good a show as I could as I ran past, yet again, my amazing cheer squad. Luckily, again, I had practiced this and I knew it would be a combination of a walk-run. However I first needed to shake out all of the cycling aches. I was able to run consistently for about 0.75 miles before my body forced me to walk. Here is where my true mental struggle began. I knew that the first 4 miles were the hardest miles of the course. There were two hills one extremely steep and extremely long. Mentally I just needed to get to mile six and then it was relatively flat and or downhill for the rest of the half marathon. I forced myself into a 4:1 run:walk routine and stuck with it as best I could. When I reached the monster hill I was relieve to see that not a single athlete was running up it. Everyone was walking and several cursing. To add a little spice to the mix there is an active outdoor gun range where some of my fellow Alaskans were demonstrating their firepower prowess. As I came back down the hill to the cheers of many tailgating locals I found my stride. Finally those running legs were kicking in, slowly, but not as painfully. Fortunately this was my favorite part of the course, running though the rainforest (and flat). It was a paved path about 3 miles that wound through old growth trees covered in lush greenery with rainforest mist rolling around that also followed a glacial stream.
Coming around the 11 mile mark in front of the high school I hit the rock bottom of my mental threshold. I was exhausted, wet, aching, and nauseous. Up until this point I knew I could do it but closing in on the half marathon with a half to go was intimidating. Emily saw it in my eyes and and encouraged me harder to keep going. I dragged my feet up the final hill of the half marathon. But somehow, and I still don’t know how, I found strength and energy to continue into the next half of the run. My addled brain couldn’t calculate the pace needed to finish so I stuck to the 4:1 pace. Most of the rest of the the miles were a blur. But again came to the wooded stretch where I found myself jogging in the darkness. Climbing back out of the hole of despair I started seeing my self at the finish. I rounded the high school with one last hurrah from my local cheer squad and entered into the last hard 2 miles. I did have to walk most of the final hill as I had nothing left. It was dark and a few sparse cars were passing with cheering locals. Limping along I made it up the final pathway and in the darkness I found, none other than, Jodie Totten waiting to cheer/prep me for the final chute.
9:21pm - this was it. The final chute. Thanks to Jodie I made sure it was only me, my clothes didn’t look too shabby and I galloped towards the finish line. It was nighttime and the finishing chute was illuminated by giant spotlights that blocked out everything but the crowd on either side, the giant Ironman gate, and the red carpet. As I came down the shoot and the announcer announced, “Nick Rosenfeld from Juneau, Alaska you are an Ironman!” The crowd went nuts; cheering, banging on the chute rails, and native drummers booming with their tribal chants. It. Was. Glorious. 
I was meddled, and quick pictures were taken. I had never felt so tired in my life. With my body screaming I hugged my family and we proceeded to get congratulations and pickup my gear. One final look at the finish line then we headed home to recover. 
Craziest thing I ever DID.
It was the perfect temperature and we chatted merrily as the city began to wake up. Slightly hungry we soon realized that most French people are not morning people and nothing was open. We wound our way up the Avenue des Champs-Élysées past Gucci, Louis Vuitton, and Dior, and admired the slowly rising sun cascading over the city. The sun struck the Arc just as we crested the hill and we sprinted across the chaotic and devilish Charles de Gaulle roundabout that encircled the arch. Not a soul around, we had the whole monument to ourselves and it was massive! After a very fun photo shoot we continued towards the Eiffel Tower. What a day! With the sun rising cafes began to open, the smell of fresh baked bread wafted over us, and we found a little corner on a busy street where we could sit and enjoy croissants and espresso. Sipping the hot caffeinated nectar-of-the-gods and biting into a warm freshly made croissant made the whole early-to-rise worth it. 
Next we continued down the street and came upon the Eiffel Tower with the sun rising behind it. Epic photos were taken as we roamed around its base awestruck at its shear gargantuan size. 
Again, we had the whole behemoth to ourselves. Now on mile 6 of meandering, we darted in and out of small quaint streets and markets. Around midday we happened upon the most magical of book stores, Shakespeare and Company, a store that seems to have fallen straight out of a Harry Potter novel with its ancient stacks, eclectic reading lounges/beds, and enigmatic staff (who we later found out were all starving actors with free room and board). 
Closing in on mile 10 of walking we hurried back to our hotel to grab our tickets to the world famous Louvre! Nothing could have prepared us for this endless labyrinth of ancient history. Set into a twice converted, fortress then palace, the Louvre was enormous! 5 floors of about a mile of walking, each. Through exhibition halls and corridors we sprinted as best we could to take in as much as we could. One could easily spend months in this museum and still not see everything. From the ancient Egyptians to France’s medieval era, napoleon’s apartments to the Mona Lisa herself, it was a chaotic dash to soak up the whole experience. 
With aching feet, and sore legs we rounded out 16 miles of walking and headed back to the hotel. 
I returned to wake up Emily and dress for our date. Even she was agape at my sleek attire. We proceeded to Apicius, one of the top restaurants in Paris. 
I have already spent so much time on this that I couldn’t possibly submit you, the reader, to another 10 pages of how elegant and delicious our 6 course 4 hour meal was… I am salivating even recalling the flavorful explosions we experienced. 
Needless to say we returned to our hotel, full, drunk, happy, and found my suitcase had been delivered. What a day…. 
