June 1, 2008 - Marathon Morning!!

(I tried to write an account of my first ever marathon... this was back in 2008.  Posting just cuz..., but pardon me for never finishing).

After a very inspiring pasta party, hearing from John "The Penguin" who writes for Runner's World, and Gordie with whom I roomed with, the team united in the Sheraton lobby for a last meeting before dressing to run. You could cut the excitement in the air with a ladle, with all the different Teams In Training in their group huddles planning out the next morning and uttering last words of encouragement and gratitude. Katie, Kate, Karla and Tiffani (coaches and campaign manager) give Team SGV our goal paces and reminders of what to bring and what not to forget. We're encouraged to lay our gear out and running through a checklist before going to bed so that when we wake up at 3:30 in the morning to be in the lobby at 4, we're sure not to have left anything.

They also made sure to convey to us how proud they have been of us. When we first started out, most of us looked upon the 3.1 mile pace assessment as this grand challenge. Since then, we've tackled our long-runs week after week with vigor and with poise. Emotions ran high as some tears fell, but mostly the feeling of graciousness and fraternatity was pretty overwhelming, and I fled to my room to prepare with a huge smile on my face and a sense of pride in my heart to run and to have trained with such beautiful people.

I don't know if the hotel was used to it, but at 4:00am, there were about 400+ people in the lobby, all wearing TNT purple. Last minute prep becomes paramount: peppermints, salt packets, and safety pins are tossed around and packed away with nervous fingers and cloudy minds (it IS 4:00am). My teammates discuss how little sleep they've gotten, how nervous they are, but that they feel confident and ready to take on one of the most challenging physical accomplishments. I meet with Miguel, with whom I'd gone on multiple long runs (he ran bandit with TNT, and was "accepted' after Tiffani gave up scolding his fiance Veronica). Since we had discussed running the marathon together at the runs, Miguel's plan was more ambitious than my own, mainly from his years of experience of running in high school and college. This would be his first marathon, though he's run many half-marathons before (13.1 mile races). He noted that he wanted to run 5 miles straight to warm up before settling into the intervals we were used to running at. I decided I was going to start at 6:1 intervals, but later decided on 7:1 intervals (run for 7 minutes, walk a minute).

We board the bus and the excitement level is taken up a notch (if Emeril were cooking a marathon and excitement was an available seasoning. We began to populate Balboa park, and as our coaches (AND the Penguin, mind-you) suggested, begin filling the port-a-potties with remnants of last night's Gatorade and water. I have in hand, my Gatorade bottles to fill up my water bottle that I'll be running this course with, and my Powerbars (x4... just to be sure). I'm really bad about running with things on my person, so I trained to clutch these items in the case I get hungry or thirsty. Around this point, my teammates begin taking pictures as we hunker down in the grass to rest and relax ourselves before heading to the start corrals. I field many questions about my goals and expectations for my race against the clock. My experience with 18 miles was great, I had a great finish, great time, and I felt great. My experience with 20 miles was miserable! Keeping this in mind, I decided that I wouldn't try to exceed my pace until I reached at least the halfway mark. I'm lucky to have my race shared with all of my teammates, and their enthusiasm for my race was very much inspiring. So much so, that I decided to take a quick 5 minute jog to warm up and stretch out.

I begin gliding out towards the UPS trucks that are going to take our bags-o-finishing gear (flip flops, comfy t-shirt, food and whatever would make us happy after the impending assault on our bodies) and begin running on the street/park road they are parked on. I dodge the crowd for a couple of minutes, appreciating how many people there are out here, and how many of them are slated to do VERY well (judging by their bib numbers, some runners seemed like they were going to do close to under 3 hours). I come up to another part of the park that wasn't so populated and started back towards the group. Dodging people again, I pull back my speed as to not trip/fall/end my marathon before I begin. I begin to stretch and hear the announcer direct people towards the street. I look at the line for the restrooms again, and they seem about 40 people long, each. I jump in line, and hope to finish my business before the race begins. About halfway down the line, I figure I'm not going to make it, so I pull into corral #10 to find Hannah and C.J. at the line waiting to start. CJ is one of the mentors on the team, and a seasoned marathoner who, to make this marathon memorable, was dressed in a purple Elvis-Styled "one-sy" with his sideburns (chops) and ritzy glasses. This attire AND his huge smile attract attention from runners from the corral. The corral fills to the point of a packed rock concert with standing room only.

The announcer counts down, and as the "gun" goes off, people stand still. There are about 1,000 people in each corral, so there's about 9,000 people in front of me that need to start running. The herd begins to lurch forward, taking tiny steps to avoid tripping on anyone else's feet. I keep a casual walk pace until we get to the start line, which is when the field opened up more to allow for a slight jog. Once we got about a minute into it, the jog turned into the comfy pace I had been training at before... the marathon began!

The summated energy from everyone was apparent, because this jog felt like I was just walking. I felt like I was in a herd of people all going the same way, and in some existential way, it propelled me without my using of any energy; in fact, had I been running in the opposite direction over to the side, I still would have been expending so much more energy. It felt strange but satisfying at the same time. I hear some people start breathing heavily and wince at the fact that it was going to be a long day for that person. We started on the street, and as I look at my watch to announce my walk break, I shuffled over to the side so I could walk without being trampled underfoot.

I was hoping that no one would take notice that I was walking prior to hitting the first mile-mark. I'm a big fan of the interval system of running, and recommend it to anyone who thinks they can't run long distances, but when there are so many others running in front of me, I feel like they're thinking that I can't keep up or that I'm injured. But I know that I'm going to run my own race, so I keep strict to what I've been doing this whole time.

Beep! I start running again. A few minutes later and we pass the first mile marker. First mile marker?!?! Are you kidding!?!? This thing just STARTED and I've already finished a mile?!? Man this marathon should be CAKE if this is how it's going to... oh, hey! There's a band! They don't sound half bad! "Yeeeaahh!" I yell out, shaking my free fist in the air as I pass the first band playing "I Saw Her Standing There" by the Beatles. I thought that was a poorly chosen song for the START of the marathon, but maybe if they were singing about spectators, then that would apply a bit more.

I run on, and begin to encounter the people standing on the side of the road. Some of them are wearing purple and green, the Team In Training colors. Sparse shouts of "Go Team!" encourage me to shout back to them and acknowledge their attention to our event and hopefully they feel like it was worth it to come out and share this with us. Mile 2 approaches and the digital time readout underneath the mile marker notes that I've been running for 24 minutes, which is a lie since I got to the start line a little later than when the gun went off and the minutes began counting. I look at my Chrono (stopwatch) for my true time (that I set at "go" when I passed the start line) and note that it reads 18 minutes! I'm right on my training pace! I make sure that my excitement does not work to propel me faster so I can keep my energy in reserve. However, I feel that the folks I'm running with (no one in particular) are running just a bit slow for me, so I start zig-zagging (a no-no, as far as my coaches were concerned) to evade the runners a bit. BEEP! my watch goes off again, and I trickle over to the side so I can walk without becoming an obstacle. I start experiencing water stations along the course, and think "wow, this is somewhat chaotic, I should move towards the middle".

We swing back around through a nice part of the park again, and I start to run a bit off the borders. I figure I can preserve my feet if I'm running on grass rather than running on the pavement all the time. From miles 2 to 4, I'm outside of the street, on the grass, and dodging passers-by and spectators. After mile 4, we approach downtown, which is barren and sleepy at 6:40 in the morning. We run through some streets and as we get closer to the Gaslamp district, I see more and more people around cheering for us as we run by.

"There you are!" I hear behind me. I look over my shoulder and Miguel pulls up beside me. "I was wondering where you were," he continued to which I replied: "hey man, how're you feeling?" We gave each other our own assessments of the morning so far as we ran through the main shopping district. I pointed out all the Irish pubs in the area and that I should come back to visit more often, where he remarked that he really liked San Diego as well. Just about then I hear "Hey Chris!!!" I look up and I see Alfredo in his Dodger hat and TNT shirt. I give him a high-five, and he pulls into the race behind me. He asks me how I'm doing and I told him I was feeling great and trying not to advance too fast. He remarked that I looked fresh for my 5/6th mile and to keep it up. He'd see me later, and I continued on. Miguel and I pull around to the Harbor area, and we run where I've visited multiple times before (next to the U.S.S. Midway). As Miguel remarked about the ship with the aircraft on it, I start noticing there's a line of Corvettes that were passing us. I asked him, "what is this, a Vette show or something?" There were a few more classic Vettes that looked really nicely kept up, along with some of the newer models. Other runners were remarking about this as well, as Miguel and I stayed off to the side of the race course. We head back into the downtown area and Miguel tells me he's going to switch his intervals from 7:1 to 9:1. I told him I'd see him on "the other side" as we started to leap-frog each other on the course.

At this point, I start seeing waaaaay more spectators on the course! Now this is getting exciting. These folks aren't just watching us, they're really motivated to motivate US!! "Yeah guys, you can do it! Keep running!". Wow, that really pumps you up when you're into your 7th mile. I saw Greg, Mentor Michelle's boyfriend on the course and he had this huge smile on his face as I passed him, and though I don't remember if I gave him a 'high five" or not, it was still nice to see him.

We round yet another corner and end up in a neighborhood. Now, picture this: It's 7ish in the morning, and there's a friggin' band playing just down the street from your house on a Sunday morning. What do these people do? They're out of their homes on their lawn barbequing and watching us go by and shouting encouraging words and such. Some residents even cut dozens of oranges and were distributing them to the runners. This was awesome. This was one of the more touching moments I felt on the course. These people opened their streets, their convenience to thousands of strangers that they, for some strange reason, wanted to support. So as we pass them, I make sure to extend my sense of gratitude for their hospitality and encouragement.

Then we hit the highway. I was dreading this point. The coaches warned us, and I'd read about it. It's at an incline for like 3 miles or so, but not only is there an incline, it's also at a slant. I remembered their advice about finding level ground at the top or the bottom (shoulders of the freeway). But at this point, I felt so good. I started becoming a bit more assured that I was going to make it, so I pushed onward past a bunch of runners. I saw more Team in Training coaches and began pointing at them and egging them on to encourage the runners (namely me) to run on. I find this to be quite effective and quite fun as I pass through the 8th mile. I felt so good, I started zig-zagging through the course looking for openings where I could pass through certain groups. Through the freeway, Miguel and I kept leapfrogging forwards and behind each other as we raced past a pretty significant number of people.

It's a pretty surreal sight to see thousands of runners running on a closed freeway, however, more surreal is having thousands of runners passing by a bunch of drag "cheerleaders" wearing TNT gear waving pompoms and wearing make-up. ::::shudder:::: Bands playing on stages on the shoulders of the this marathon event was also surreal, but very welcome as the tunes usually caused an uplifting of my spirits and a drive to go forth. I felt that the most support (purely in an accumulative manner) were the spectators that were watching us run from the freeway overpasses. As we ran underneath them, I would cajole them into cheering for us runners, by yelling at them and flapping my arms (with Gatorade bottle and Powerbars in hand). It usually got them shouting or something to that effect, which was very much empowering and inspiring for me to keep chugging along.

I get to a part of the freeway that starts a downhill slope, and it probably wasn't that steep a grade, but now thinking back to it, I feel it to be akin to a rollercoaster in comparison to the incline that we'd been running for a 30 minute period of time. At the end of the freeway was a hill (that served as a freeway onramp previously) that led to some "shopping mecca" that Coach John pointed out in his blog, but I really didn't notice as much as I was noticing fans and people that were related to TNT around cheering. I chugged onward...

Miguel and I met again around the 12 mile mark. We ran for a bit, and Miguel took some gel, which he seemed to not like too well. Then a moment of shock hits me and I wonder if I just shot my marathon hopes out. "Miguel!" I call out, "man, I forgot to take a salt before starting out!!!" I yelled frantically. He mumbled something along the lines of how "I should be fine". I hurry up and administer salt to myself (by way of swallowing a fast-food packet of salt) We get to the 13 mile marker. "Alright man, here's the halfway point!" I pointed out that halfway was going to be up ahead at the 13.1 mile marker. He acknowledged that we saw that point from where we were at and we headed for it. I guess... (that's where it stopped)

Putting Up With The Hills

Wasn't there a show called "The Hills" or something?  They ain't got nothin' on Arbor Rd. I ran last night with the Dog Haus running crew. Demitri came out there and kicked my a$$ up-and-down-and-all-around. We ran through the park and I thought I could keep up, so I pushed it a little bit, but after running Ragnar I wasn't ready to push to the point where I was able to keep up. So I dropped back and had to let my ego understand that my body wasn't healed up from Ragnar, and Demitri bounded out front and started the hill repeats.

So the hill repeats on Arbor Drive is one of the steepest streets in mid-Pasadena, and in close enough proximity to the Dog Haus where we can just run there, and run back and acknowledge that we got our asses kicked on Arbor and raise a glass to that.  I tried bounding up Arbor from my run, but I had blown myself out so fast that I didn't have any strength to motor up the incline and I had to hike the rest of the street panting and gasping for air.  At the top, I contemplated just running back to the bar and pouring one out for the homies. I watched and cheered the other DHRC runners as they pushed through their climbs focused and determined to get up the ****ing hill.  Once I caught my breath, I figured why not subject myself to another repeat?

After pushing out 7 hill repeats, my new friend Christian and I (yes, yet another friend named Chris__) and I trotted back to our meet up spot for sliders fries and beer.

The reason that I wasn't able to finish the run at the pace I was going at was because my body was still trying to recover from the Ragnar mileage. Though I was able to avoid TOO much fatigue due to the 8-10 hour breaks between runs, my body's conditioning is still such where I need a couple of days rest to fully recuperate. Passive or active recovery would be prudent right now, and I'm sure as shootin' that my next run will be pretty beastly!

Props to the DHRC, the Dog Haus, Demitri and Christian... Good times, beer, sliders and fries.

Post Event Highs

Ragnar Tron party!  Ramon n' Missi tearin' up the relay floor!

This morning, as I looked at my messy room with various items of run gear strewn about in a haphazard directional splatter pattern, I felt an ear-to-ear grin creep across my face. At that moment I acknowledged that the weekend's Ragnar event is still being felt in my spirit, in my body, in my brain, and by very miniscule measure in my feet and legs. I'm so thankful to my friends for taking care of me DURING the event, that it makes me want to take care of them from this point on, that we've created a bond that none-but-ourselves could possibly understand. This post is a testament to that bond. I need someone to know that there are people who I met once, whom I would prioritize because they've proven (just by being themselves) that they deserve priority, attention, consideration, care, trust... you name it.

It's pretty magical, now that I think about it. I don't have any misgivings that the outside world would sit in front of these words and wonder what the hell happened in that van?! I'm ashamed that the answer need only be so existential: "anything and everything." The shared laughter, the shared food supply, the shared high-fives, the shared sports drink, the shared smiles, the shared agonies, and the shared experience (to borrow Missi's term) just RESONATED.

Brought to you by the number 6!

It's amazing to feel the lasting post-relay endorphin circulation, which is what most runners strive for by themselves, let alone have a team to accomplish something. Most races are events where a conglomeration of personalities, of sentiments, of dreams, of energy and spirit happens just by people wanting an event they can experience with someone else. I can't think of an obligatory race, or a time that i met a starting line that i didn't totally love the experience. People on the outside have trouble believing me when i tell them there's something special about running and the events we string together. Running for most people was a penalty at first, and self-mutilation as they witness top athletes performing at the highest of human achievement, and comparing themselves with that. Us runners are a generally sympathetic bunch. We run because we can, and when comparison to the champions on pedestals ensues, our response mainly comes from within to affirm our own pedestals we learn to self-manage over time. We learn to set our own goals, arrange our own dreams that have such personal significance that others who haven't laced up won't understand and don't get to own. Yet, when we meet at events, we look around and find that each individual has his or her own battle to be champion. Each medal is bling for some, is closet clutter for someone else, but earned by all.

Boston was thought of by practically every van and every runner. 600+ teams of 12 runners each (most of them)... that makes me love runners even more.  :::gush!:::

March 16th - Hollywood Dreams St. Patty's Day Run (5K)

March 16th - Race Day! - On a cold Sunday morning, I grabbed a handful of Shamrocks and 4 leaf clovers (actually, I just snagged some Gatorade, a sweater, and some bread... I should have rested for my run, but I had to move into my new place the day before. Ugh, how I plan this stuff! Anyhow, my legs are ok, I thought to myself as I got up out of bed. I dressed in... oh crap! Where's my training shorts?! Oh well, I've got these trusty blue ones that I've been using for the past few years... another race isn't going to kill me, right?



So, it's dark, and I don't remember the directions, I just know that it's at Griffith Park. Umm, Griffith Park? I've been here once! This is pretty funny, since I was supposed to Google the address so I could find th.... oh that's right, I was busy moving! Damnit! So, I call my mentor Dolly, and she's got this sound in her voice like "what a douchebag you are! You friggin' don't know where you're going?" She's nice enough to give me proper directions, and I park my car and try to figure out how late I am.



Holy Icicles!!! It's friggin' COLD out here. But we're going to start running soon, so I don't really worry about it, I just grin and bear it and think some warm thoughts. As I walk towards the main racer-staging area, I see these chicks walking back up to the parking lot wearing green body & face paint, with green garb on as well. Festive. Ok. My mind is trying to process, but I'm still trying to wake up, and it's FRIGGIN' FREEZING out here (Mr. Bigglesworth)!! Anyhow, I see Dolly and some of the other Team In Training participants and I say "hi" while sheepishly grinning at Dolly. Dolly tells me that the registration desk is around the corner and I should register now. I register and they give me my bib (#) which is 2133. That's the number that I'm going to wear as I race around CRIMINY IT'S COLD!!!! So, anyhow, I go back to the spot and there were more TNTers arriving. I started directing them to the table to register and get their free T-Shirt that lets the world know that you participated in the first annual Hollywood Dreamz St. Patrick's Day Run.



We stand around and gab for something close to a half an hour when we're joined by the Coaches (Katie and Kate). We change our position to a place higher on the hill and STILL FRIGGIN FREEZING!!! After several minutes, Coach Katie rounds us up and gives us some directions: We're going to go to the bathroom... do a warm up jog, and then go to the bathroom, and go to the bathroom again, and by that point, we should be ready to start.



We start jogging, following a few other TNTers that started out before us, and I notice a few runners out here passing me up. I'm pretty competitive, so my heart starts beating faster for me to start following them. I relent, trying to tell myself that this is only "warm up", and not to get too excited just yet. But this is my first race experience, and I don't know what to expect.



Since we're running, I'm not as cold anymore, so it feels ok. I see people running back to the spot, so I follow them, with Scott, Stacie (Scott's girlfriend) and Dolly in tow. I mess with Dolly, running diagonally back and forth behind her, just trying to agitate her a bit. It worked. We get back to where the starting line is, and I look for Coach Kate. Coach Kate is training for the Boston Marathon, so I figured that she'd be a good person to follow pace-wise. I ask her what her pace will be, and she said she's aiming for a 7:30 minute mile, to 7:00 mile. I ask if I can hang with, and she agreed.



We get to the start line, and everyone's antsy, ready to run the race. I see all kinds of people out here, all kinds of colorful shoes, all kinds of colorful attire (big ups to A Snail's Pace, Snail ____ and Turtle ____... man these people really love irony, don't they?), on all kinds of colorful people. There's a bunch of people wearing green and funny hats and all kinds of indications that it's St. Patty's Day. The gun goes off, and so do we!



So I run with Kate, and we're keeping pace with some of the faster runners in the group. I feel that I'm pushing a bit faster than what I'm supposed to, but as long as I stay relaxed, maybe I can keep the pace up. We run uphill a bit, and then there's a downslope to the first mile marker. Kate and I are chatting it up about race strategies and techniques and such. It's pretty exciting. I see all kinds of different running styles as we keep pace with these runners. We get to the first mile marker, and the guy shouts out 6:11!!! Oh crap!! We're way fast! Kate says "aw man, we're way fast. Oh well, let's keep this going."



We past the 2nd mile marker, and I know I can't keep the pace anymore, so I tell Kate "I can't keep pace anymore, go on ahead!" She shouts out some words of encouragement, and keeps the pace and I start pulling back a bit. I pulled off and there was a water station. I grasped at the dixie cup, but tried not to spill anything and ended up losing some time. For the most part, I didn't get too much of the liquid (Powerade I think it was) in my mouth, but oh well. There's this shot of energy that boosts through my body, and I start pushing forward a bit. Kate is still in my sights, so I figured it'd be pretty smooth if I just rolled back up on her again, but she's going WAY fast.



I see the elite runners round the turnaround point and race towards the finish line. Man, those guys are smoooth! I also notice that I'm not too far behind either. Hey, this is pretty cool! So I hit the turn around as well, and Kate, as she sees me, shouts more words of encouragement and I'm feeling pretty good now. I'd been running alongside this one guy for a while, and we'd been using each other's energy to pull ourselves even further. I round the turnaround spot and head back towards the finish line. As I get to the 3rd mile marker, I see Coach Katie who'd been planted to encourage the team at the finish line. She gave Coach Kate a big smile on her way to the finish, but waited for me so she could "run" me in. She asked how I was and I told her I felt pretty good. She said that I could sprint this last leg in, so I said, "sure" and started to use the last of my energy reserves to propel me towards the goal. I think Coach Katie tried to keep up but then started yelling me in. They separated the 5k finish from the 10k continuing people and I ran into the 5k line. I don't really remember seeing all the people on the sidelines cheering (including Rob and his wife), but I remember not being able to finish the last of the sprint. I got to the finish, and they yelled a number at me, but I didn't remember it. Some girl runs up to me and rips the bottom portion of my bib and puts an orange sticker on it with a time. I didn't remember my time, either.

I found out later that it was 19:48. 3.1 miles. So far so good. That'll be my time to beat. But I owe Coach Katie for that one.