2009 Utica Boilermaker 15K

I've always thought it pithy to state that there are only two types of 10K's: 10K's that go very well and 10K's that go very poorly. This is, of course, a great over-simplification, but the point was that in a long race, running fast and feeling (relatively) good usually go hand in hand, just as running slow and feeling awful go hand in hand.

At the 32nd annual Utica Boilermaker 15K I ran fast and felt good. This race, whose many idiosyncracies I detailed in last year's write-up begins with a startling cannon blast that I could have done without. Perhaps the theory is that a cannon is needed so that the twelve thousand people in the race stretching back and back from the starting line can all hear when it begins. Of course, why they would want to know that the race has begun is a mystery to me since they won't even start moving for minutes.

I move off the starting line without incident. Crowds of spectators are cheering. Music is playing. It's just a big party (with 12,000 sweaty people running 15 kilometers to get to the free beer). I just keep telling myself: Not too fast. Not too fast. It's a long race.

I felt more focused this year than last. I didn't notice the bands as much or the zaniness on the sides of the roads. I just saw the jerseys flowing around me. I glimpsed Dave Bradshaw and Colin Carroll amidst the strangers. The lead women formed their own knot and I joined the group of men clustering around them. We looked quite like overly-thin, under-ly intimidating bodyguards.

There is one large uphill (after the sharp left-hand turn for anyone who knows the course) in the first 5K, but I feel that the rest of the first third of the race must also be gradually uphill because times are slow. They were slow last year and they were slow this year.

My 5k split was 16:57 that's 5 min 28 second mile pace and I was shooting for an easy starting pace of 5:20. It does feel easy, but it's 2 minutes slower than what I can race this distance in. It should feel easy. The Boilermaker is only just beginning.

After 5K we hit another big uphill at the golf course. Just as the ground sloped up, a band at the bottom of the hill launched into a System of a Down song. It was kick ass.

Things started to accelerate after 5K despite the hill. I don't think it was just me. I sensed the whole group mentally shift into the second third of the race. Maybe everyone was upset by their time 5K time.

At the top of the golf course hill we dove into a shaded section of winding roads, then the path dipped down for the steep decline. This should have been a relief, but it wasn't. It's too steep. Virtually everyone has to brake and the pounding is brutal. Also, the hill goes on and on. Downhills are best consumed in long gradual stretches. This was a speed eating competition.

At the next mile marker past the bottom of the hill, mile five, I'm back on 5:20 pace, spot on. I dropped twenty four seconds off my 5k pace on the one downhill.

The crest of the hill is a fitting mid way point. It is one of the only shaded portions, it divides the up from the down, it is usually the place where I run away from the fastest women, as well as many of the men. After midway, the race is lonelier, more competitive, and much faster. Half way done and the race begins in earnest.

Last year I was more alone at this point. This year I'm in a "target-rich environment" as they say in the military. Jersey after jersey is lined up before me and at the head of the train is the red and yellow crossed with black of a Hansons jersey. I know, I just know that this is Fred Joslyn. I was gunning for Joslyn last year but he eluded my grasp.

I'm so in the zone this year. He's well ahead, but I'm not worried. I just keep telling myself that I've got time even as I tweak my pace, make sure it's fast enough. I saw his jersey at 5K and resisted counting in my head to see how many seconds he had on me. It was the right decision to let it go. Looking at the results afterward, I see he had 27 seconds on me at 5K. I clip through 10K at a nicely accelerated 5:15 miles pace and Joslyn still has 13 seconds on me. That's big, but obviously he has come back a lot.

I'm still not worried about losing him. I have eyes only for the runner right in front of me. One at a time I put them behind me and in the long internal quiet between passes I review my check list: relax your shoulders, pull them down and back to open your chest. Relax your neck, but keep head and eyes up on the next target. Lose the fists, relax your hands. Hips forward. Easy deep breaths.

The difference between good posture and poor is an invisible fist in the small of my back pushing me effortlessly forward.

There are no easy marks at this point. Everyone is serious business. I pass these guys and they don't hesitate to swoop up behind me. This is the last train for Fred Joslyn territory, all aboard. The thought that I'm leading the train tickles me. I'm excited, but I stow it. This too must serve the race.

I do allow myself one arrogance. I don't look down, but keep my eyes locked on the next target with an unbroken stare. I want the spectators to know that I'm the predator and I will get my prey. The thought energizes me.

My trailers have detached, unable to match my pace and Fred is finally the one in front of me. Immediately I know that if I settle for just him I won't get the two in front of him.

Ambition doesn't always come easy in mile seven of nine, but today it does. I haven't been passed since before the mid point. I'm in an amazing state of mind. I'm hurting, of course, but it's suppressed.

I'm certainly tired. There was this nasty, gradual but long, incline just a bit before I caught Fred. It was tricky to choose to slow to an easier pace on that hill rather than to push through. It's the kind of decision that makes running a thinking sport. How well do you know yourself? Slowing down; is it a sensible conservation or is it cowardice insidiously cloaked?

Joslyn does not submit easily. He matches my pace when I make my presence known beside him, but the others I have passed were little different. I just look up to the next jerseys. There are two: one is pulling away from the other. That means one is mentally or physically broken, so I should have him easy.

Just a little while back a spectator yelled to a runner trailing me, "You've got the top ten Americans ahead of you." This is astoundingly motivating to me. That's always the danger with yelling encouragement in a race, you can't be selective with it. Anybody can use the encouragement for themselves.

Joslyn fades and I pass the next guy. The one that was pulling away also comes back to me. I've eaten my fill of runners, now I want nothing more than an end to this race. I see a spectator with a sign for Furlong and Century. Someone knows my friends from Williams. She doesn't recognize me though. No matter.

Then I hear the bagpipes, blessed music. The end is near. Even more blessed, the ground slopes down and I see the finish line. I launch into a kick. I just want to keep behind me all the hungry runners that I've put there, but lo and behold another racer is coming back to me. The crowd sees it and cheers. Damn crowd. The guy looks back, sees me, and puts on his own finishing kick to finish one second ahead of me. Except that he started in the elite box (ahead of me) so my chip time (as opposed to gun time) is faster than his. If this makes no sense, don't worry, it's not a big deal. Here are some meatier statistics to chew on:

I finished 19th over all, 6th American.
It's my fastest 15K time ever,
besting my previous time of 48:46 by exactly one minute 47:46.

I chiseled my mile pace down another seven seconds to an overall average of 5:08 in the last 5K alone. That's 5:28 at 5K down to 5:15 at 10K down to 5:08 at 15K.

I'm also thrilled to be upright this year. Last year was hot. I had trouble breathing and took one little stumble after the finish line and this pushy EMT dragged me to the medical tent and stuck an IV in my arm against my will. I'm still irked about that.

I owe a lot to the weather. The temperature was marvelously cool and dry, perhaps the perfect race conditions. I'm also grateful to Andy Crawford who hooked me up with a place to stay and agreed to carpool with me.

After the race I spent time getting burned by the sun with Century (that's Collin Carroll, Williams '07), his family, and Chris Furlong (Williams '07). I do not take for granted the way we were able to start up a conversation as if we had talked the day before. I can't say that about just anyone. I don't think I've seen these guys since the alumni race which was ten months ago.

Life was good, still is good, even though it hurts to walk and I have not run since the race. It will be alright. I've got a big plastic tub in front of my TV. My two legs and three trays of ice go into the tub. Star Wars Battlefronts goes in my xbox. It sure beats thigh-deep cold whirl pool in the trainer's room, though I do miss the company (and the insulated "toe mittens").

Results

All results
15K over all results
Age group results
My personal results
All finish line videos - great views of the clock. *sarcasm*
Finish line video of me. I finish with around 2 minutes remaining in the video.
Article about the Boilermaker

Pictures

Some goofy photos of spectators.

A few good pics of the winners

Pics of the top male runners and others. I was sure I'd find myself in this gallery, but no luck.

Misc pics

Another Boilermaker article

Boilermaker on facebook. Lots of good pics here.

Nothing yet but links. Maybe more will be posted later.

Official site with pics.

Personal pics of my finish

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