By David Roher

7 p.m. (12.2 hours since race start)

Mile 12.5: I reached the turnaround at the other end of the “V.” This was by the lake where we had all swam 12+ hours earlier. Twelve hours ago seemed like a lifetime ago. I was rested, I was comfortable and clean. Here at the turn around I was none of those. The physical struggle is manageable for me as long as the mental struggle stays positive.

(How do you stay positive when you are in so much pain?)

I think of my family waiting for me at the finish line. My kids cheering … my wife, with her text messages of support. Speaking of which, there’s a message now.

(What did she say?)

I was going to look, but I had to keep my eyes on the road ahead. There would be time later to check.

7:19 p.m. (12.5 hours since race start)

Mile 14: You expect hills at an Ironman for the bike course, but Lake Placid also gives you hills on the run. Running downhill isn’t as much fun as you would imagine. It’s pressure on your quad muscles as all of your mass is driving through your knees.

(Or so it feels like it.)

Yes, that is true. One wrong step and you will go down, skin crashing on the asphalt road. I was in no mood to be digging chunks of Lake Placid’s Main Street out of my flesh.

(It sounds like you have done this before.)

I have and it’s bloody when it happens. It essentially looks worse than it feels, but it doesn’t tickle either. I hadn’t crashed the bike and I wasn’t about to trip and fall on the run either.

7:24 p.m. (12.75 hours since race start)

Mile 15: Now at the bottom of “The Hill,” I turned left to start my second time headed down these tree-lined streets. This section of the course is only four miles long, but this far into the race the herd thins out and you can be on this wooded road all alone…

Hey, look … a photographer!

I leaped into the air and clicked my sneakers.

My friend Yisroel Pupko does this move at triathlons all the time, so I figured, “Why not?”

So much happens in that split second that you leave the earth. Some inhale at launch, some exhale, but all fly. Remember kids, what goes up, must come down. If I lost focus and came down wrong, I could have twisted my ankle and ended my race … but I didn’t. I’m not sure where I got the strength, but I’m just glad I landed squarely on my feet. I was so happy that I was on my way to breaking my all-time Ironman record that I forgot about the danger or my fatigue.

7:39 p.m. (13 hours since race start)

Mile 16: I had not seen Ruth since the first aide station on the bike … and that felt like a lifetime ago. We took a selfie to mark the moment. Somehow, we were both smiling this far into the race, but as I always say, “I may be tired or sore, but I’m doing an Ironman” and that beats the alternative.

We ran together for a minute, during which I checked to make sure that my athlete had enough calories to finish this journey we had started almost three years ago at Half Ironman Maine. I let Ruth know that I had tried to track my athlete on the app, while I was running and I had gotten scared when Ruth did not hit certain checkpoints.

(Data drops happen.)

Ruth surged ahead and I tried to keep up the pace, but my legs would just not respond to my demands. I was still running, but I had to let go of Ruth and resign myself to the fact I had known for some time. Ruth was a stronger runner and would probably pass me on this run. I’m a teacher, I get joy out of seeing others succeed. I have always made it my goal to make my athletes strong as possible, even if that means they beat me in a race. I watched Ruth run off down the road toward the final turnaround.

A few minutes later I saw Ruth coming back towards me from the turnaround. I called out, “In 45 minutes, you are going to be an Ironman!!!”

8:24 p.m. (13.75 hours since race start)

Mile 18: Second turn around. Only 8.2 miles to go … with hills to climb as the sun began to set behind the distant mountain. The tree line road is a spooky place in the darkness, but I focused on the fact that my all-time record for completing an Ironman triathlon was 15:39:10. Two hours was going to be more than enough time to break that record … I hoped.

David Roher is a USAT certified triathlon and marathon coach. He is a multi-Ironman finisher and veteran special education teacher. He is on Instagram @David Roher140.6.

He can be reached at [email protected].