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Posts from the ‘Races’ Category

San Diego was beautiful, but painful

Every single one of my worst thoughts came true. But I blame my downfall on a bad case of insomnia. I didn’t sleep the night before the race. At all. I probably shouldn’t have even tried to run 26.2.

But I did. And I hit the wall early. And it got ugly.

A day later my feet are blistered. My legs are sunburned and sore. And I’m overall exhausted.

My finish time: 5:34:14.

That’s 14 minutes slower than California International Marathon. It’s enough to make me rethink my focus, my training and my attitude. My husband says I’m over thinking it. I probably am. But I want to get better. Not worse.

I was exhausted by mile eight. And I just couldn’t pull the magic back. There was not enough Gu in the world to save it.

I nearly quit at mile 19. But a really nice aid station volunteer persuaded me against it. So I pulled it together, got back out there and finished.

I have some bad splits. I was 12 minutes behind the entire way. But I made it.

My husband, who bought me the little bear above, was proud. I finished. And on some days, sometimes that’s what it’s really about.

A full race report to come later.

Am I disappointed? Yes. But I also ran 26.2 miles. And I pretty damn proud of that too.

 

Psyching myself out

Tonight, I’m packing my bag for our early morning and through the day trip eight hours south for the Rock ‘n’ Roll San Diego Marathon.

I’m nervous. I’m anxious. I’m a little scared.

I think I’m most nervous because I’m afraid I’ll be slower than the 5:20:41 I ran for the California International Marathon in December.

They (as in everyone who urges first-time marathoners not to set goals) say that the first time you should aim to finish. The second time? Well, there are no recommendations for goals for a second time.

I’m hoping to run more consistent. I’m hoping to finish (again). And I’m hoping it doesn’t turn into a sufferfest. It could.

I think I’m psyching myself out a little. I kept feeling pain in my legs this week. Then I went for a now-regular massage before I do a long run and suddenly realized my arms were bruised from it (sign of a good massage?).

So I keep thinking to myself: This is going to be all bad.

That’s not helping me at all really. I know that, of course. But I also don’t know what to expect. I don’t know how I’ll feel at mile two. I don’t know how I’ll feel at mile 22.

It’s all still a mystery. And it’s making me very anxious.

Breathe deeply. Breathe deeply. Remember the Gu.

We set off early tomorrow, around 5 a.m. And I’m waking up early the next day to run 26.2.

Again. 26.2 again.

Whew.

I’m packing my bags. I’m trying to get everything together.

And I’m trying to get it together. And keep it together for the run.

(Not really) racing from Bay to Breakers

Last year, I ran Bay to Breakers. I really ran. I didn’t wear fun clothes or spend my time along the course just having a good time. Nope. I ran and finished in 1:25:46.

This year, I decided to not go all out. But I asked my brother to join me. And he wanted to go all out. In costume, of course. But also in running. He trained.

I ran an 18-miler the weekend before. My legs were still a little tired.

And my 28th birthday happened to be on race day this week. So this would be the second year my brother ran a race with me on or near my birthday weekend.

The day didn’t start out too well for my stomach. Instead of feeling as if I was ready to run, I rushed to the portable toilets immediately after getting to the Embarcadero. I ended up going to the bathroom twice before the start. And I still felt bad. My stomach hurt. I was getting cramps, likely from an empty stomach. But I couldn’t eat either.

I should have known it would be a bad run. But I kind of didn’t care.

In fact, I kind of figured I’d take it easy.

It was a warm morning. The tortillas were already flying.

We were already seeing naked people too. My brother made some sort of sausage-fest reference saying he’d seen enough naked nasty dudes for a lifetime, and probably more. They started counting down quicker than last year it seemed. In fact the whole thing seemed to go by more quickly in general.

At a little after 7 a.m. race officials released Corral C and we were off. I immediately felt horrible. My stomach was really turning.

Then, just like that, we he a stall. People had begun to gather along the road making it nearly impossible for racers to get through. This happened at .26 mile into the race.

It wasn’t all bad, but it was bad.

Mile 1: 11:17  — Started out strong, considering I had to stop and wait for the flow to get going again. I was likely running an 10:40 pace.

Mile 2: 12:29  —Legs are tried, uphills.

Mile 3: 14:16  — Hayes Street Hill and bathroom break. I kept thinking I was going to throw up.

Mile 4: 12:05  — Did a Gu, picked it up once over the hill and on the downhill.

Mile 5: 11:04  — Back in my normal groove, but it would be short lived. Toward the end of this mile, my legs felt better thanks to the Gu, but I was also starting to feel bad again.

Mile 6: 11:40  — Tried to hang in there, slowed a little.

Mile 7: 13:11  — Even though I had less than a mile, my stomach was cramping bad now. I kept considering stopping and slowing completely. I figured I’d walk it in. Finally picked it back up.

Mile .60: 9: 34  — Decided I needed to just be done. I just pushed it. I wanted the misery to end.

My husband got that great shot of me running it in. He complained that I wasn’t smiling. I tried to tell him the kind of misery I was in. My stomach hurt. I hadn’t fueled properly before the race. When I went for it, it was all I had at that moment.

Then it was over. It seemed quicker than last year. All around.

I crossed the finish and was handed my medal.

At the finish line, the announcer called it the “first ever” finishers’ medal. We received commemorative medals. The medals are nice and heavy, definitely a plus.

Then we had to go wait in a ridiculous line for our shirts.

The shirts were way to big. And we couldn’t trade. If we ever do this again, I won’t opt for the shirt. The disorganization at the end was amazing. Last year we had to walk past Polo Fields to get the shirts in an organized fashion. This year there was a tiny tent with a long, long line of people. I would have walked away had I not been charged so much for the shirt.

I ended up giving my tech T-shirt, a size medium, to my brother.

By the way, my brother the racer finished in an amazing fast 59:05. He did great. He was really excited about it. (Notice, he dressed as Paulie Bleeker from Juno.)

My final time was 1:31:34. Not horrible. I probably could have done better had I had felt better or ate breakfast and done the Gu beforehand.

But I don’t feel bad about it. I got to run with my little brother. And it was a fun run, even if it wasn’t a good one.

We did see lot of crazy stuff. And we made it to the breakers OK.

Then we headed away for an adventure to watch the eclipse. But that’s for another blog post.

 

Time is on my side

I now, thanks to the timing company, have a time for the Sirena 18 run this past weekend.

Officially: 3:32:13

I can’t explain how stoked I am about this. I kept having moments where I felt guilty about not being listed in the results. I would, obviously, be an incredibly bad race bandit.

I feel legitimate now.

Over the past three days, I’ve felt as if every Gatorade I drank was a fraud. Hyperbole? Yes. But I felt incredibly guilty.

I worked a nice, long 12-hour day today, so I’ll be light about this post outside of saying I’m incredibly happy. No longer, as I told my husband, bummed.

The timing company representative asked that I send the D-Tag in. It’s ready to go into the mail tomorrow. I may never get to the bottom of what exactly happened (I don’t expect them to report back to me or anything, there are other events and hundreds, even thousands, of other runners), but I think anything to help out on my part is useful.

I’ll come back with another post later this week on the subject.

Right now I’m finally laying down for the day. I’m hoping to wake up and run five miles tomorrow before work. We’ll see if that happens or if fatigue rears its ugly head again.

Leaving it all on the course

I have to admit, this past week was a tough one. Without getting into too many details, I’ll say work was hard. Both jobs were hard.

My students were finishing their last issue of the year. And I worked more than 50 hours at my full-time job. It made for a week of work somewhere in the 70-hour range. I lost count after 60+. So when I got home from work, around 8:45 p.m. on Friday, I was seriously considering not running the Mermaid Series Sirena 18 in Fremont.

But I needed the 18-miler after my longest run of the training cycle at the Big Sur 21-miler a couple weeks ago. It’s not because I thought Big Sur was a disaster, not at all. But the 18-miler was going to be a better proving ground for how the Rock ‘n’ Roll San Diego Marathon might go on June 3.

So I set my alarm clock for 4:30 a.m. I hopped into bed at about 10:30 p.m.

Sleep came quick, but my body didn’t want to wake up. I knew it would be hotter than usual so I grabbed my only Dri-Fit tank top and a longer pair of capris. This would also be the first venture out for my Saucony Hurricane 14s.

I loaded my iFitness belt with Vanilla Bean Gu. And I slathered sunscreen all over myself.

The start was at 7:30 a.m. I made it to the Quarry Lakes site in Fremont by 6:45 a.m. Thomas opted to go to work, so he dropped me off.

It was a beautiful morning.

Too bad I hit a bump nearly immediately. I went to bib pickup and was handed an awesome shirt. I asked where bag check in was. I was told there was none, despite it being on the event’s Facebook page.

I quickly ran away and called Thomas to come back and get my bag. Only after he was on his way did a volunteer track me down and tell me there would be bag check up, but she didn’t know where. By then, Thomas was already making his way back to the park.

Ten minutes later and still with no sign of bag pickup, Thomas was back at the park. I handed him the race shirt and my bag, including my sunscreen.

The only bathroom lines in site were at the “real” toilets. I used the portable ones. At a certain point, and after so many races, I’ve gotten over my fear of portable toilets. So I didn’t have to wait for the bathrooms at all.

The 60 or so people doing the Sirena 18, the longest of all four distances, lined up near the start. After some pumping up from an organizer, we were off.

The first four miles of the run were through the actual park. The first out and back was a nice, mostly fire path road. It definitely wasn’t hard on the legs or knees. I was pacing pretty well through the first miles.

Mile 1: 10:13

Mile 2: 10:49

Mile 3: 11:32 — I took a quick walk break here. I noticed I was pacing out too fast. Way too fast. It was only about 45 seconds at most.

Mile 4: 11:07 — For the first time in a race, I ran and ate my Gu at the same time. I usually stop. I also didn’t walk through the first couple aid stations, I sort of walked/run and tried not to spill water all over me. I did end up spilling water all over me.

Mile 5: 10:57 — Must have been the Gu.

Mile 6: 11:14

Mile 7: 11:56

Mile 8: 11:13

Mile 9: 12:29

Mile 10: 11:39 — Finally reached the double digits, still on the out and back here.

Mile 11: 12:00 — The 11-mile marker was right after the turnaround. Has anyone else ever noticed how awkward turnarounds are? The race field was so small I kind of shuffled around the sign and volunteers.

Mile 12: 13:09 — I stopped to fill up my water bottle at the aid stop.

Mile 13: 11:54

Mile 14: 13:22 — This was kind of my “wall” in this run. This is also where I noticed a difference in the heat. The entire “out” part we ran away from the sun. The “back” part was all in the sun. And while some was covered, not all was.

Mile 15: 11:56 — I’m starting to get tired. It was then I decided NOT to do my last Gu at mile 16 and just see how I did.

Mile 16: 13:09 — Thought to myself: “Maybe I should have done the Gu.”

Mile 17: 13:17 — Second thought: “Definitely should have done the Gu.” Back in Quarry Lakes park, there was no shade. None at all.

Mile 18: 11:03 — I crossed the finish line and thought I hit my Garmin. It read 3:32:51. Then, after being handed my Mermaid Series necklace and a water bottle, I realized the Garmin was still running. It turned off officially at 3:33:07. I was annoyed because the two women who finished in front of me had pacers leading them in. Pacers who took up the entire sidewalk. When I tried to get around them, one of the women sped up.

And also, my Garmin had me at 17.90, which means I ran those tangents a little too well.

So, my unofficial time was 3:32:51.

I waited until Sunday to track down my “official time” only to find a huge problem. I’m not at all listed in the results.

Nowhere.

I’m assuming, after running nearly 30 races, that my timing chip likely failed.

I can’t help but be more than a little upset. I once saw a really nasty battle play out on a Facebook page where a woman wasn’t getting her time fixed and kept asking for it to be remedied. I didn’t understand why she was so upset. Her Garmin had the time.

Now I understand. I spent more than three hours out on that course. I braved the long out and back that nearly took me to Coyote Hills Regional Park (it was in sight at the turnaround).

And I had no time.

On my right foot, above, is the offending D-Tag. I’ve never had a D-Tag fail before. I’ve sent an email to the race organizers. Two girls finished exactly before. I literally came in immediately after.

I know I showed up and I know I did the race. But I want my results too.

I’ll say, that kind of soured a really good experience.

I left every emotion I had out there. I ran consistent. (The slower miles were from filling up my water bottle, adjusting my new shoes, etc.) And I suddenly feel so much better prepared for the upcoming marathon.

I nearly cried when I got to the finish line. It was an emotional 18-mile journey.

My husband caught me coming through the finish, floppy arms and all.

Just as quickly as it started more than three hours and thirty minutes earlier, I was done. I sat down on the grass near the finish. I wasn’t hungry thanks to the Gu. I wasn’t even all that tired. I had a couple blisters from shoes that hadn’t been field tested too much, but that’s to be expected.

And I tweeted about my excitement in my finish:

After an exhausting 60+ hour work week, I just ran the most consistent race of my life. I left everything I had in those 18 miles.

My husband was trying out his new camera lens, so we stuck around for a little bit.

He got a fairly nice one of me too.

I would caution readers that I don’t look that horrid in real life all the time. I clean up pretty well when not covered with sweat and when my hair is done. I promise.

We stopped at a nearby nursery to pick up some Mother’s Day gifts since we were expecting my mom and grandmother’s for dinner in a dual birthday/Mother’s Day celebration. When I started to clean up I noticed a nice sun burn/tan line from my Garmin and my Road ID.

Overall, the Mermaid Series East Bay Run was fairly organized and fun. There were aid stations every couple miles. The volunteers cheered everyone on. And instead of a medal at the end, we got cute little necklaces. On one site it said “motivate” on the other was the run’s logo. Super cute and functional. I can wear this on Monday. I couldn’t do that with a medal.

In the evening, I kicked up my feet and watched some Netflix for a short amount of time before the day finally caught up with me. Early-morning wake-ups for races are to be expected, but nonetheless are fatigue-inducing later in the day.

I feel more ready for this marathon than I was in December. I don’t know if it’s because I have done a second long run or because I’m a better runner now than in December, but I think I’m definitely feeling my stride better.

And I didn’t walk away from this run feeling horrible (outside of the bummer of not being recorded in race results or listed on the site). With another Gu, I probably could have kept going. I know I could have kept going.

There’s something to be said about feeling comfortable in the long run.

Glaming up for the run

A couple months ago, on fear that the race would fill up like last year’s centennial did, I registered for the 101st Bay to Breakers run in San Francisco. I had a good time last year at it. I can’t say it was a mind blowing experience or anything, but it was a good time.

This year, it’s on my birthday.

So…I figured, party on the run? Wooo! I know how to live it up.

I invited my youngest brother to run it with me. I may have created a monster. He keeps sending me text messages telling me about how he’s running miles under six minutes. Great. He’s going to leave me in the dust. He doesn’t really “run” with me at all.

Since it’s a fun race and most people dress up, I thought this year I would to. Last year I wore regularly running clothes. This year, I’m going full out Holly Golightly.

Yep. I’m bring Audrey to race day.

The last parts of my costume came in the mail today. Everything else I had.

I’ll be wearing my Nike running skirt and a cheap Target fitness tank top as my main outfit.

Then I’ll glam it up a little.

First, I bought some inexpensive gloves at Amazon.com. They are pretty nice too. And, if it’s a little cold in San Francisco, they’ll be nice arm warmers. Win win.

I’ll also be wearing some faux pearls. They look much more white than they are pictured. It’s an H&M necklace that only cost me about $4 at the time. I tend to wear it a lot with plain shirts. I figured if something happened to it, I can easily replaced it.

And I had to buy a princess tiara. This was probably the most experience item added to my costume. It cost $15 from Amazon.com with shipping. It fits fairly snug too. I don’t think I’ll have to worry about it falling off, which I kept thinking would be a problem with this costume.

Of course, Holly Golightly needs a pair of Ray Ban Wayfarers. Everyone kept saying all I needed were over-sized glasses. No. Audrey would not settle for that. I actually have owned these for more than a year too. I bought them with my first paycheck from my teaching job at a local community college. I had one of those “OMG, I can afford Ray Bans” moments and just went for it. My dad has worn Wayfarers forever.

I initially bought the glasses thinking I’d never buy another pair of glasses again. So far, I haven’t. I love them. My only worry is losing them along the race path.

I was prompted to put this all together because my brother and I just got our race packets in the mail. Last year I ran it with my friends. So I think it will be kind of nice to have some support this year too.

I’ve also found out that people can still register for Bay to Breakers, meaning it didn’t sell out like I expected it to. Last year, entry was capped at 50,000. I’m assuming that’s the case this year. But a hefty raise in fees, and charging for an adidas tech shirt, may have turned people away. I mean there are other much more organized races in San Francisco (I’m looking at you San Francisco Marathon), but this one is fun.

I don’t really have a “goal” per se. My brother wants to womp me. He will, easily. This one is meant to be fun.

I’ve literally only ran two miles this week and it was tonight. On the treadmill.

I’m running an 18-miler this weekend in Fremont, which is about an hour away in the Bay Area. There’s a huge likelihood that I could come in last if only because I’m treating it as a training run and it’s a small event. The organizers also have a half marathon course, 10K and 5K options. But I signed up specifically because after a 21-miler in Big Sur, the addition of 18 seemed like a nice pre-marathon shake out.

I’m looking forward to it, despite the weather predicting it will be hot. The run begins at 7:30 a.m. I’m hoping I’m done by 11:30 a.m. at the latest. It’s flat trail run with an out and back at the nine mile mark.

A tough training 21: Part II

My alarm clock at the motel hit close to 3 a.m. and i knew it was time to wake up.

I knew if I fell back asleep I’d wake up tired. I knew if I tried to even hit snooze at 3 a.m. I would make it to the bus. So I rolled out of bed and headed to shower. I’m one of those strange runners who actually showers in the morning before my runs. Just a quick one. And I usually don’t do my hair or anything.

I went to the bathroom. I hit the shower. And I got dressed.

I’m going to be real for a minute: I hate not knowing when I can next go to the bathroom. It’s likely a side effect of taking medication for high blood sugar for three years, but I don’t like not knowing where the closest bathroom is. That makes this next part important.

I ALWAYS get really nervous before my runs. To the point that I have to go. ALL THE TIME. And I was worried, severely worried, about the 45-minute bus ride up the coast. I didn’t know what kind of bus I’d be on. I didn’t know if we’d be stopping anywhere (we weren’t). I was extremely worried.

I know this might be TMI, but this is a real issue for runners.

By the time Thomas dropped me off at the Monterey Marriott at about 4:20 a.m., the buses were lined up.

The volunteers were all really, really helpful. The marathoners were still boarding there buses, so we waited until the 21-milers were allowed to load. I headed into the Monterey Marriott and there was a bathroom right in the lobby. (WOOOOOO!)

Then I realized that we’d be boarding the tour buses, which also have bathrooms on board.

I was THRILLED. It’s hard to explain how thrilled I was. My husband swears up and down I have issues with going to the bathroom too much. He’s also become quite accustomed to it. Others don’t understand though.

I briefly chatted with the woman next to me. Really just to ask her if I could turn off the light. And we were off.

Into the night.

It looked all black.

Seriously. Everything.

We drove quietly up Highway 1. I wanted to sleep, but I couldn’t. All I could see were taillights of the buses in front of us. I vaguely could make out the waves off the coast. It was eerie.

I read somewhere that the bus ride is disorienting. It is. Very much so. And you think the entire way as you are driving: “I have to run all this to get back to where I started.” It’s kind of daunting.

We made it to the staging area and there weren’t a ton of people there.

And it was still dark.

I opened my bag and pulled out an apple and part of a Luna bar. That was my breakfast. I jumped in a portable toilet right when I got there too. (Never did have to use the one of the bus, which made me really glad.)

And I got some stretching done too.

So I’m actually on a rock. Apparently it was a really popular rock. People kept walking all over me. I wasn’t even in the way.

There were bananas, apples and other fruits. And coffee and water. I don’t drink coffee, but I took down a couple cups of water. I felt a little dehydrated.

As it began to get lighter, a yoga session started. I didn’t partake, instead doing my own stretches. A lot of people did.

At about 6:40 a.m. we were lined up near the bottom of the driveway at Andrew Molera State Park. The road in front of us was 21 miles to Carmel.

The timing mat was actually at the top of the hill. I power walked up it instead of running.

Then things started moving. We took off right at 6:45 a.m.

And just as quickly as I started, I realized this wasn’t going to be easy. I wasn’t doing it for time as much as experience. And it wasn’t an easy path.

All uphill at the beginning, a nice downhill, a huge uphill and rolling hills (and banked streets) the rest of the way. Wow. A nice, easy Sunday run? I think not.

And then there were the headwinds. Yes, headwinds. On Hurricane Point (the tallest peak on the elevation chart) I was battered back and forth across the road. It sucked. My glasses were covered in dew. My long-sleeve shirt was wet at one point. I didn’t even bother taking if off until about three miles before the finish.

I battled. In certain places it looked, in my Garmin data, like I was moving very, very slowly. But I kept going.

Because I was treating it like a training run, I stopped and went to the bathroom whenever I need to. That added more than 10 minutes on to my time.

But it was cold. Damp. Windy. And my head was raging the first eight miles.

Raging. I couldn’t shake the headache.

I just kept moving, hoping it would go away. And it did after about my second Vanilla Bean Gu.

By the way, my savior of the day was the Gu. I wouldn’t have made it without the Gu.

My overall average was 13:14 miles.

The steepest hills were the longest miles. I’m not proud that I took that long. But it happened. I’ll own it.

Thomas was expecting me about the 4:30 time mark.

I came in at 4:42 and he was yelling for me nonetheless. My feet had blisters. My ankles, after running through the banked road in the Carmel Highlands, were now cankles. I’m not even kidding, my ankles were so inflamed I can still not bend them properly.

And my IT band, which seemed to hold out pretty good during the run, started throbbing the moment I stopped. It was kind of like it just knew. It knew I was over. It was pissed. Two days later I’m still dealing with the aftermath of that.

Big Sur isn’t an easy run. And it’s definitely not a true “training run.” But it was beautiful. I didn’t take a lot of photos, obviously, because I was too enraptured in enjoying the beauty in general.

The finish line was crazy busy. I sat down for a good twenty minutes and then realized if I didn’t start walking around, I likely wouldn’t be able to. So I got up and lost Thomas. I realized suddenly that  I had checked a bag with a sweater. I went and grabbed that too. And then Thomas and I decided it was time to leave. I come for the run. I don’t often stay after.

So we started walking off, but not before he shot a last photo of me near the finish.

And I was happy with how it all came together. Sure, I didn’t have the best time. But I got through a very tough training run. I knew that the only way out was through. That’s what I focused on. The good thing about living close to Monterey, only within three hours, is that we hopped back in the car and made our way home after the race.

By 3:30 p.m., I was home on the couch resting my legs with ice.

When it comes down to it, there were likely better ways to get my longest run of the training cycle in. I know that. But I think Big Sur offered a nice challenge. I faced nearly every weather condition on the run and still came out OK. And stronger for it.

Next up? An 18-miler closer to home on May 12. Then Bay to Breakers before the end of this marathon training cycle.

I’m not 100 percent confident in my marathon conditioning so far, but I’m feeling a little more prepared after the Big Sur 21-miler.

A tough training 21: Part I

Let it be known that I’m crazy sometimes. I often expect a surprising positive results when I know the situation will not dictate it. This is usually the case at work. They say insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Therefore, sometimes, I’m insane.

Signing up for a 21-mile run along the California coast where two miles of it, near the beginning nonetheless, are straight uphill when my training consists of running small rolling hills is definitely a sign that something is very wrong with me.

“It could be fun,” I thought when signing up for the run last December. It was my “I just ran a marathon” gift to myself. Yeah, I used to buy shoes, now I sign up for other runs. I’m crafty like that.

So as the weeks rolled down and I was unable to get in my 15-mile training run preceding the event this weekend, I only started to worry slightly. It was a training run, after all. I was using it as a training run.

Except my husband came along. And we stayed overnight. Thank God too, since my wake-up was at 3 a.m. And we ate a nice dinner. It was very much like my marathon more than six months ago (wow, it’s been that long!).

So we packed up some overnight goods and headed to the Monterey Peninsula for the Big Sur 21-miler.

It was, for the most part, a nice drive. We headed through the Bay Area, on Highway 101. It was about a two hour plus drive. No stops. That’s surprising for me, since I usually have to go to the bathroom on long drives.

We headed up Highway 17 near Santa Cruz, then to Highway 1. The same Highway 1 that leads from Carmel to Big Sur, but we didn’t get that far. We stopped in Monterey where the sun was shining and it was warm.

Oh hey ocean! I’ve missed the open water so much since I left Oakland in 2007. I used to be able to see the San Francisco Bay everyday from the campus at University of California, Berkeley where I earned my masters degree in journalism.

We hit up the expo first thing once getting into town.

My husband is not like me at all when it comes to making things simple. He had to find a place to park that was free. When I was with my mom for the Big Sur Half Marathon last fall, I parked in the first garage I found. Bam. It was $6. Simple and easy. No worry about getting a ticket.

Thomas dropped me off. He went and found a free spot blocks and blocks away.

I’ve blogged about my tired little legs as of late. I didn’t want to walk those blocks. Especially if I knew I’d be running 21 miles the next day. But that’s how he is. (Also note that he is likely one of the most patient men in the world, I do appreciate that too.)

The expo was much more packed than the half was last November.

This was my one clear photo from the shirt pickup.

I went upstairs and found the single line for the 21-miler. It appears only 675 people finished it, so I understand the need for only one line. I just happened to be behind three air-head type women. I’m sorry, I usually don’t call out other people, but these chicks not only didn’t bring their bib numbers to the counter. Then they let another woman get in line with them. Then they asked why they couldn’t pick up their bus tickets right there (it was a three foot walk, seriously). Then they had to stop and take a photo right in front of me. COME ON. Get your stuff and be done.

So I got my bib after all that.

And, more importantly, my bus ticket.

I’ve never felt so much like Charlie from “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.”

I was lucky enough to score a late boarding ticket. “Brown ticket” for “Monterey Marriott Loading.” That meant I was on one of nearly the last buses heading up the coast. Score. I could sleep in.

Little did I know I wouldn’t get to. (THANKS INSOMNIA!)

I went downstairs for my awesome Big Sur 21-miler shirt. It’s light blue, with purple writing. I love it as much as I love my Half Marathon shirt from last November.

Confession: I used to think the Big Sur shirts were so cheesy. I don’t anymore. Big Sur International Marathon has a classic sense to its designs. Nothing frilly. Nothing too fancy. Basic, yet beautiful. Always with some part of the Bixby Bridge on the marathon-style gear.

Thomas caught up to me down at the expo. I was checking out booths. I was hoping to score some new compression sleeves. No go. I didn’t even find anything else other than my race shirt saying “21-miler.” This was like the Nike Women’s Half where everything says Nike Women’s Marathon. Yeah, it’s the event name. I get it.

We did a little expo wine tasting. I even bought a bottle of $20 chardonnay with the marathon logo on it. It was a commemoration bottle. Nice.

But I found chocolate.

A very fancy, expensive chocolate store.

And I partook. Yes, yes I did.

They were expensive. I needed a disclaimer. I still have some left. I’m good at restraint. Not really, though. I ate too much today. Way too much. I promise to be better tomorrow and go back to the diet.

Then we headed to the motel. It was nice. Not too fancy. Not the Hyatt my mom and I stayed at either. Thomas, again, doesn’t like spending a lot on things. He booked one of the cheapest, albeit nicest hotels he could find. It was OK. I always bring a comfort blanket, a tip I got before the marathon, to help me sleep.

On suggestion from one of the Big Sur volunteers, we took some free appetizer coupons and headed to Fisherman’s Wharf where a bunch of marathoners, 21-milers and other event savvy types were headed.

We selected Isabella’s. Our free appetizer was fried artichokes. So good. We opted to eat outside. It wasn’t cold at all. And they were going to seat us in a corner in the actual restaurant. I didn’t really want to sit in a corner when the advertisement said: “All seats are ocean view.” Yeah, not so much.

We were greeted by a seagull who wanted to get all up in our business. He was kind of funny, so he didn’t bother us too much. Thomas even wanted to pose with the seagull. I called him “Buff.” He seemed like a combination between our dog Beau and our duck Duff, so Buff seemed appropriate.

I ordered a margarita. Between tired legs and nerves, I thought it was necessary. And I didn’t drink so much it would be detrimental to the run.

And I ordered beef. A steak. I usually order chicken. Or something lean.

But something caught my eye on the menu.

Rib Eye with a baked potato. And butternut squash risotto. Yes please.

It was delicious.

Then we walked the beach for a little bit and headed back to the hotel.

It was such a beautiful day. The wharf was close to our motel. The dinner was good. Overall, a nice night. We went back to the motel and ate the chocolate and I drank a lot of water. No Diet Coke even. Too bad that didn’t help me fall asleep.

Then I did what I typically do the night before a run.

I put everything out to make getting ready in the morning, at this point 3 a.m., easy for the next morning.

I put my head down at 9 p.m. I thought I’d fall asleep fast based on the fact that I was tired from the drive and seemed to be drowsy. I took a couple Ibuprofens because of a slight headache and laid down. Thomas watched television for a while then went and hung out in the bathroom to let me sleep. He watched Netflix in the bathroom. See, a patient man.

At 10 p.m. I looked at the clock. I still wasn’t sleeping. I tossed and turned. I took another Ibuprofen. I couldn’t sleep. Thomas crawled in bed sometime after 11 p.m. and I kept falling asleep a little, then waking up.

I must have collectively slept for two hours when I looked at my phone and noticed it said 2:52 a.m.

I’m up, I thought. Let’s do this.

And with two hours of sleep and the headache that didn’t seem to be disappearing, I started getting ready for my longest and most difficult training run ever.

 

21 on the California coast

After a night without sleep thanks to my insomnia kicking back up, a 3 a.m. wake up alarm, an hour-plus bus ride down the California coast in the dark, a Golden delicious apple and two bathroom stops, I was off this morning at 6:45 a.m.

The Big Sur 21-miler was the most challenging run I’ve ever done (hills, inclement and ever changing weather and  a constantly banked surface), but it was beautiful and memorable. And my legs didn’t give out. Not once. It was only after I walked across the finish line that I started to experience some illiotibial band issues in my left leg.

Total time: 4:42:23

And I kept moving, even when the bottoms of my feet were on fire and blisters were for certain.

My longest training run on my San Diego marathon path is now done.

Full race report coming when I can get my bearings back and my leg doesn’t need constant ice.

Big Sur 21-miler prep

We made it!

I have my bib and my bus ticket! I know what time at ‘o dark thirty I’m waking up! I’m ready, I think, to go!

I’m still more than a little scared, though.

This isn’t an easy marathon. It’s not flat. Crossing my fingers for a good run tomorrow!