Big day at the Boilermaker

The day began at 3:15 am. I rolled out of bed, brushed my teeth, put on deodorant, took my medicine, and managed to put in my contacts without poking my eyes out. So far, so good. I spread Bodyglide over every area that has ever chafed and threw on my running clothes. The coffee pot started brewing (automatic timers are amazing things), and I realized I had enough time for a mini-nap. A few minutes later, I was sipping coffee, checking over the directions to Utica.

At 4:15 am, I met up with Jud and Jordan, got everything in the car, drove a block to pick up Sally, and started the drive to Utica. We were there by 6:25 or so and had figured out where to park by 6:30. You would think that at a race with over 10,000 runners, things would be pretty busy 90 minutes before the start, but you would be wrong. The buses had just started arriving with runners who had parked at the finish line. We chatted briefly with the runner who parked next to us and got a feel for logistics. It turned out we had chosen a great parking spot. It was less than a five-minute walk to the packet pickup area. The four of us picked out a meeting spot and headed back to the car to smear on sunscreen, secure our chips, and try not to be nervous.

At 7:15 we headed back toward the starting area and joined the porta-potty lines. These were a bit intimidating. There were actually lines for the nearby woods. We made it though the lines just before we needed to line up for the start, so timing all worked out well. They went with color-coded bib numbers. I was dark blue--second from the back. I entered my corral at 7:45 and continued the search for my bib buddies. These are the people whose bib numbers are sequentially next to yours. I didn't find mine, but I did find someone whose number was only 4 away. Not bad. It was already hot, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. This race would be a boilermaker, indeed.

The National Anthem was played by a trumpeteer and sounded beautiful. Then we had an invocation and an introduction to our mayor. They announced we would be started using the blast of a cannon. I thought they were kidding. They weren't. Later, talking to Jordan and Sally about it, I learned Jordan had been standing near the cannon and had been wondering why all the nearby runners were covering their ears. Judson, who was nearby, said the historical re-enactors we had seen when we parked were the ones firing the cannon.

Ten and a half minutes later, I crossed the starting line. The race was on! The course followed rolling hills through the early miles as we enjoyed signs that said things like "Beer: eight miles that way!" The neighborhoods in Utica were having a competition to see who best entertained the runners, so locals were out enmasse to cheer for the runners. Everywhere, they offered nice treats like flavorice, popsicles, beer, and coffee. The nicest locals handed out ice cubes.

For weeks, I've heard about the huge hill runners must face between the third and fourth miles. This hill was along a golf course and had a nice downhill leading up to it. Looking out to my right, I saw the runners who were ahead of me going up the hill. It did look intimidating. As I approached the hill, however, I saw it wasn't bad at all. My training in Ithaca had paid off for me. This hill was just a slight incline, something to be muscled through quickly. The tricky part of the hill was getting around the other runners who were used to flatter conditions. For me, the reward for the hill, a long downhill portion of the course, was the most painful part of the race. The combination of steep slope and cambered road inflamed by IT band and actually allowed thought of DNFing to enter my mind. Knowing that you can't do real permanent damage to the IT band by running through pain, I pressed on, and the pain subsided.

Miles 5-7 were tough because there wasn't any shade anywhere. Starting at mile 6, there was a slight incline that lasted all the way through mile eight. Ordinarily, it wouldn't be a big deal, but with the sun, those two hilly miles seemed to take forever. As I approached each new mile marker, I saw that I was maintaining my pace, and this encouraged me to run harder. Just as the race and the heat were getting to me in the last 1.3 miles, someone gave me much needed encouragement and passed on that I was only about 0.3 mi from the finish. This turned out to be mostly true--I think I was actually 0.4 mi away--but it was all I needed. I ran strong through the end and finished within 30 seconds of my "if I had a perfect day" goal time. My final time was 1:35:24 for an average pace of 10:14 min/mi. After I crossed the line, I was awarded a very nice finisher pin. I'm not quite sure what to do with it, but if I get more of these finisher pins, I'll start a corkboard display.

After the race, I collected a popsicle, some orange wedges, some free Saranac beer, and my goody bag before finding my group's designated meeting spot. Jordan and Sally were a lot faster than me, and Jud wasn't allowed to go spectate at the finish line, so they were all there. Other than Jud's frustration with spectator management, all of us had a great time. The goody bags were also interesting. Normally, race participants receive cotton shirts with the race theme, which are then somewhat useless except to wear on casual days to show off the fact that you're an athlete (cotton being an eschewed material for running clothes these days). We Boilermaker runners, on the other hand, were given Boilermaker-themed pint glasses. This way, when I am drinking a beer and eating a burger, I can show people that I deserve to be eating like a pig because I run. Pint glasses also make excellent soda and water glasses, so no one is left out. And there are no sizing concerns to consider. Are themed pint glasses the race souvenir of the future? One can only hope.

We didn't stick around for much of the post-race party because as nice as it sounds, beer really doesn't taste that great after a run. Jud drove us back to Utica, stopping once to get some coffee and a donut. We spent the rest of the day in a zombie-like state, trying to get through our D&D session, eat dinner, and stay up until a somewhat reasonable bedtime when we were too sleepy to do any of these activities well.

All in all, it was a great race. Where officials made it difficult for non-local spectators to support their friends and family, they made it easy for the locals. There was more music along the course than there was at the Rock'n'Roll Arizona half marathon. The volunteers were helpful and friendly. And it was nice to say I ran with the Kenyans, even if they had passed the two-mile marker before I had even crossed the starting line. Next year, I'll be returning. But this time, I'm going to stay in a Utica hotel the night before.