Boise, Idaho
Saturday, June 13, 2009
If you’re reading for race and course notes, this first section is for you and my version of events is in the section to follow:
Athlete check-in was really smooth and everything was centrally located around the Qwest Center in downtown Boise. My parents booked a suite at the Grove Hotel, which is attached to the Qwest Center and ten steps from the finish line and T2. There are a number of other hotels (Hotel 43 is another) within a block of the finish. We stayed with my in-laws who live toward the reservoir, but downtown would definitely be easiest if you’re coming in from out of town.
The logistics for this race were pretty good, considering this was a two-transition race. T1 was at Lucky Peak Reservoir and T2 was downtown in Boise, one block from the finish line and the two-lap run course. Bike check-in the night before the race is optional, but if you don’t check your rig the night before, you can’t ride the shuttle, so I highly recommend it. T2 gear bag drop is right next to start/finish, yet another reason to stay downtown and close to the chute.
The race started at 2:00 p.m., which is fairly novel, but reasonable given the relatively cool temperatures this time of year in Boise. Historical average temp is 78 for the high and 60 for the low. This year ran a little cooler than normal, with highs barely reaching 70. It was also unseasonably wet this year. Boise usually gets most of its rain in April and early May, so you could probably bet on future years being reasonably dry.
The community was generally friendly toward the race and the volunteers were great. The local bike shops were lacking a little in the higher end racing gear. I had a hard time finding a pump with a Presta connection for sale and no one in town had Continental rim cement for tubular tires (my first experience with Tufo rim tape was OK), so plan accordingly and pack for more contingencies than normal.
This year’s race started out at Lucky Peak Reservoir. The water was clean and about 60 degrees. It was open for pre-race swims the two days prior to the race, but nothing on race day. The course was a clockwise rectangle starting and finishing on a pair of boat ramps with good footing and no algae or other good stuff to slip on.
Things might be a little challenging if you had friends or family who wanted to see the swim. Access to the reservoir was closed. Buses ran almost continuously from the Qwest Center out to the reservoir, but once the race started, unless you were racing you were stuck there until the first bus returned at 4:00 p.m. This probably isn’t a problem because the bike course is tough to view without a car and even then it would be tough.
The bike course winds out into the hills around Boise, and only comes near town again for the finish. The hills are challenging and the course takes you through some very pretty country as it searches for the six or so climbs. None climb more than 400 feet, but two are particularly steep. Aid stations at mile 25, 35, and 45. The course was closed in some sections, but generally traffic was so light in the rural areas that you hardly saw non-race vehicles. The approach on Federal Way back into town was jammed with traffic, but the course was fast and clear for the riders.
The run course is a two-lap half which courses along the Boise River with a little spur that takes runners briefly into the BoDo (Boise Downtown) District and a tunnel of noisy spectators. The course has well-stocked aid stations every mile, complete with fruit, gels, water, Gatorade, cola, wet sponges, and lots of helpful volunteers. The run course was slightly different from last year’s course due to the heavy rains prior to the race and the fear that some of the course might be flooded. The river was very full this year, but nowhere near overrunning the banks.
Overall, a well-organized race, good community, and a great course. Despite horrendous race conditions this year which made the bike a little more treacherous than it would have been in even light rain, I’d recommend this race for a destination half away from the Austin heat. The chances of the race being this wet, or even wet at all in future years is probably remote.
My Race Report
My wife and I arrived in Boise Wednesday before the Saturday race with plenty of time to get the equipment ready, get settled, get in a couple workouts to stay in touch, and make all the pre-race checkpoints. Gotta love paying $175 each way to fly the bike... Add that on to the new baggage fees and it’s $240 each way!
TriBikeTransport is a wonderful thing if only they’d expand their race coverage. I managed to survive the horror of breaking the down the bike, putting it in a hard case with the shift and brake cables uncomfortably bent, and topping it off by mashing my favorite set of race wheels on top of the whole thing. Nevertheless, the bike arrived in pretty good shape.
Athlete check-in was smooth and fast. The expo was well staffed and I managed to snag a couple of the Timex Ironman OVA watches at $30 each before they are completely gone (they’ve been discontinued, so move now!). I skipped the race briefing because the guide was very good and I was pretty sure I knew how it was going to go: a swim, doffing a wetsuit and grabbing a bike, riding a while, then trading the bike shoes from some run shoes until you saw an arch with a clock, some loud noise, and a few flash bulbs…
When I arrived at the reservoir on the bus around 1:00 p.m., the water was smooth. I got my tires aired up, dropped off my pre-race clothes and lay down by the swim exit to chill out and wait. I was in the eighth wave, which started 35 minutes after the pro men left. That gave me time to watch the pro men and the lead woman exit the water before I started. We were looking at about 9-inch whitecaps at my category start.
The wind picked up steadily throughout the end of my swim and the sky was getting darker all the time, threatening rain. My wave was wearing white swim caps and when the announcer told us we were 30 seconds away from the white cap wave; the guy next to me wondered aloud whether he was referring to the swim caps or the waves…
I jumped out to an early lead at the start, then settled into a good pace about 300 meters in. We were quickly on top of the earlier swim waves which started in front of us. I decided not to try to go with the guy who was on my feet at the start when he came around me after the first turn. We were headed directly into the current and he wasn’t swimming straight, so I thought I might be better off swimming the course. He ended up finishing about 40 seconds ahead of me so maybe I was wrong.
The second turn put us into the wind-shadow of the cliffs so the water was a lot smoother and the final leg put the waves behind us. My left calf, true to form, cramped about 300m from the finish and I had to swim to the inside of the course and stretch and massage it out before I could continue. Figure that probably cost me about 30 seconds.
I had a poor swim and came out a little over 32 minutes. Was hoping to go around 29 minutes. Transition was spread out and took a little time to cover. Because T1 was remote, the volunteer crew brought pre-race clothes and wetsuit back to the finish. Athletes were required to bag their wetsuits, goggles, and cap and put them in a bag before leaving transition.
The bike starts with about a mile of descent that allows you to coast at about 40 mph, get shoes set, grab some nutrition, and get acclimated before pushing into a fast, slightly downhill section before the turn onto highway 21. The first climb comes after that turn, about 5 miles into the bike.
The rain that had been threatening started on the climb and was fairly light for about 5 more miles. It really came down for a few minutes before we hit the longest and steepest climb. The rain stopped for a mile or two before we made the turn toward the climb to the bird sanctuary. There are a pair of very treacherous 90-degree turns leading into the climb that were dicey given the slight sprinkling of moisture. The climb was reasonable, but the rain started coming down harder and the descent was terrifying. There are a number of sharp turns, culminating in the same two tight 90s that were at the start of the climb loop at the bottom that required liberal use of the brakes.
They attempted to neutralize the descent, but the disparity in skills and speeds killed that idea. Even if you’re used to that feeling of acceleration for that first instant after you hit your brakes in heavy rain, it still gets a dose of adrenaline going. The layer of water between your wheels and your brake pads needs to get squeezed out and it actually feels like nothing’s happening, or worse yet, you’re even accelerating before things start to take hold.
The deluge continued into the large loop of the course. About an inch of water collected in the ruts in the road, making the crown of the lane or the center of the road the only places reasonable to ride for anything other than a quick pass. The rain was coming down so hard at that point that it hurt when it hit anywhere on my arms, and my helmet sounded like the inside of a trashcan someone had dumped a string of firecrackers in.
I found myself in a pretty good battle with three other guys from my age group. My AG was split into two swim waves, so no telling how close in time we were. We were probably spaced out in a span of 45 seconds most of the day and we never drafted, but every time someone slackened up front someone else passed pushed the pace. I lost count of how many times we exchanged the “lead.”
I was leading into a particularly wet left turn at the end of a soggy straight section and some of the wettest weather I’ve ever ridden in. I got a bit of a wobble mid corner (fortunately didn’t hit the brakes), and straightened out the corner to use every spare bit of asphalt. As I was exiting the corner, I heard that sickening sound of at least two, and probably three riders going down behind me. It’s just a bad sound pedals make as they are scraping on the asphalt. I didn’t see two of the guys I was riding with for the rest of the ride, so I can only assume they were some of the casualties. The other guy managed to drop me like a hot rock at about mile 40.
It was kind of fun that the course looped back a couple times so we could watch the pro race develop. Chris Lieto had about three minutes on second place at about mile 35. Apparently he had a lead of six minutes into T2. I heard he needed about two seconds more than he had…
I was having some stomach problems that started after my first Larabar at mile two. I was constantly full and the Infinit mix that included both nutrients and electrolytes wasn’t agreeing with me. I had a couple timers repeating on my watch to remind me to add some Thermolyte to the mix and down a little gel every 45 minutes. The Infinit has some electrolyte in it and I’d trained with it for about six weeks, but it wasn’t doing it for me today. My Thermolytes were in a Bento Box on my stem, but the rain had turned them into a frothing mess about 20 miles in. That meant that Infinit was going to be my only source of ‘lytes until I could get to the next bag of Thermolytes in T2.
It continued to pour and the hills seemed to get harder in the closing miles. Around mile 46, I started projectile vomiting. Not just coughing up a couple chunks of Larabar and with a little electrolyte mixed in; EXORCIST puking. It felt like I could puke out over the white line at the right side of the road and not spill a drop on the course.
Every time I tried to top up, I was sick. Good news was that with the rain, at least I was clean. I was shooting to close out the bike around 2:10 (which was probably unrealistic given the hills), but ended up at 2:28. The final stretch into T2 with the capitol as the backdrop was pretty stunning, although it was dark and I could barely see through the rain on my glasses. Frankly, if the capitol hadn’t been so prominent, I probably would have been caught unaware at T2 and would have tried to ride straight through it. I saw my family at the roadside, but couldn’t hear them over the rain pounding on my helmet.
T2 was laid out like a long, four-lane dragstrip and was fast. I found my rack quickly and was moving pretty well, although my hands were frozen and I couldn’t get my helmet strap undone. A volunteer standing next to me told me she couldn’t help me without getting me disqualified, so I kept working at it until I finally got the damn thing off. As I was bagging up my gear (all of it has to be in a bag; take note in case this really turns you off as it did me), the same volunteer offered that she could bag all my stuff for me. Not wanting to debate with her why she couldn’t help me get my helmet off, but could bag my gear, I headed off for the run through a large and very noisy crowd.
I had two gel packs, one Larabar, and a bag of Thermolytes for the run, but my stomach was still killing me. I started out at around 7:30 pace, but couldn’t take on any water or food. My diaphragm was also cramping in response to the vomiting (at least I think that was what was causing it) and I was trying in vain to slow my breathing down to get things under control.
I had passed my parents, in-laws, and wife just before the entrance to T2 and they had a good spot on a bridge that put them at about the half mile and three mile mark on the run. I saw them the first time on the run and they looked like it was a pretty bad day to be a spectator. They were wet despite the umbrellas, coats, and tree cover. I’m frankly impressed they hadn’t bagged it for a window spot at a bar along the finish chute. They were much more energetic than I was and I appreciate them toughing out a bad day!
Still burping uncontrollably and fighting diaphragm cramps at this point before I hauled up off course to heave the first time on the run. This made me feel a little better, but still not good and certainly not ready for chow. I threw the Larabar in a trash can and tucked the two gel packs away for later. I fell into a cadence of puking about every mile through mile four, then twice on mile five. Then suddenly everything clicked into place and I was racing again!
My diaphragm stopped cramping, my breathing slowed from a pant, and I stopped burping. I settled back into a 7:00 minute pace for about two miles. I felt adventurous enough to take my first cup of water at mile 5 and even chanced a couple Thermolytes. I still didn’t feel like I could take on food, and the water or ‘lytes were a little too much. I didn’t toss cookies again for the rest of the day, but my pace just started slowing until I was struggling to maintain 9:00 minute pace. I did realize later that I did the entire run on water and about five Thermolytes. Not the ideal fuel, but you do what you can when plans change I guess…
The rest of the run was pretty uneventful. It continued to rain, but not very hard. We splashed through puddle after puddle and I was astounded how fast some of the competitors were running. Sometimes the squeak, squeak of feet moving a lot faster than mine resounded through a tunnel we passed through on the run.
I got to run with Sam McGlone for about half a mile and she didn’t look to be on a good day. She eventually finished third in the pro women’s race.
Coming into the last half mile, my pace was terribly slow and I’d long ago stopped trying to figure my AG placing. I had been passed so many times it wasn’t even worth trying to count. I looked at my watch and was at 4:55. Surely I could lift the pace slightly to sneak in under 5 hours... No response from the engine room and I finished at 5:00:15.
After the finish, that hotel room at the Grove my parents had was a REALLY good idea. I went straight upstairs and hopped in the shower, kit and all. Got changed into some clean clothes, recovery drink, a little stretching and a lot of time to settle the stomach before dinner. A short five-minute walk to Chandler’s for a big steak.
