#4: Mountains to Beach Marathon, aka the race where dreams come true

It's hard to write this recap... I have so many emotions about this past weekend - relief, happiness, love, gratitude, and sadness.  It passed quickly, but Sunday was a fixture I set my life upon for the last 5 months.  In those months, I intensified my training, wrung myself out over grueling interval runs, lost my confidence over unsuccessful long runs, braved heat, humidity, and lots of solitary miles, and tested my love for this sport.  I carried a lot of pressure with me to the race - I had hung a 9 year dream on it, spend nearly $600 to travel to and run it, gave up attending a friend's wedding, and carried the expectations of several people - the heaviest of all, my own. My endeavor to qualify for Boston has fortunately been shorter than others' journeys, but it was not a linear one and it was not as easy as I had imagined it would be when I began long distance running.

Race Weekend

 

I traveled to the race with one of my best childhood friends, Nicole.  This race was special because she was hoping to Boston qualify too (she had come much, much closer than I had to date) and because it was the second race we had run together.  Our first race together was her first race ever - the 2010 Nike Women's Half Marathon in SF - and the one that began her obsession with running.  Mountains to Beach (M2B) was a sweet intersection for our shared interests and goals.  We wanted to qualify together and run Boston 2015.

We traveled from the Bay area to Ventura on Friday.  The car ride was fun, though took us around 9 hours.  We traveled through Salinas, where Nicole's roommate, Sara, showed us her hometown, through miles of gorgeous mountains and along the coast, through Santa Barbara where Sara went to school, and finally down to our destination, Ventura.  By the time we got in, it was around 11 pm and we were eager to settle down and begin to adjust to our early race time.

Saturday was a lazy day and I made every excuse to take full advantage of my bed-glued, sloth-like state for the sake of "preparing my legs", haha.  Sara was pretty restless to leave the room, though, so we ventured out to San Buenaventura State Beach, which was conveniently a walkable distance from our hotel.  Ordinarily, hanging out at the beach for several hours is a bad idea the day before your marathon, but the skies were overcast and the temperatures were low yet warm enough that you could dip your feet into the warmth of the finely grained sand.  We sat at the beach for a few hours, enjoying the simple beauty of the ocean waves.

Kelsey and Sara

Nicole

I'm a starfish! Photo cred: Nicole

Me and Nicole! We often forget to take pictures together. Photo cred: Sara

Around 2:30, we decided to head over to the expo, which had only opened 30 min prior.  I had seen pictures of the expo in previous blog posts and knew that it was going to be small.  The entire race was incredibly small timey.  It was located at Ventura High School, there were about 3 tables available for runners to pick up their bibs and 8 tents with vendors.  There was no info table (we checked, since I was the only one who had to take the 4 am shuttle, while the rest of my crew had to take the 5 am shuttle.  I guess that's the best way to prevent inquiries - make it impossible to voice them to anyone responsible for the race). 

We then drove to downtown Ventura, which had a cute little touristy, beach town street with a large number of second-hand and thrift stores that supported and "promoted" various social causes.  (One of which was about supporting Child Neglect and Abuse.  Presumably they meant counteracting, but that sign was quite unclear.)  Our group was hesitant about eating an earlier than early bird dinner (seriously - we sat down to eat at 3:30 pm), but decided to since our goal bedtime was 8 pm.  The theme question we asked ourselves this weekend was "Marathon training, or old age?"  (Rickety legs - marathon training or old age?  Repeat for "Eating dinner before 5 pm" and "8 pm bed time")  In the end, we managed to finish dinner, drive back to the hotel, lay out our racing gear, and get to bed by 8:30 pm, although sleep was more elusive... I must have gotten 5 non-continuous hours.

Race Day

 

In our disposable, pre-race chic, before heading to the start line. Photo cred: Kelsey

We got up around 3 am and began to prepare.  Though Nicole, Sara, and Kelsey didn't have to be at their shuttle until 5 am, the race organizers recommended they park at one of the lots by 4:30 am and Sara felt more comfortable keeping our group together as long as possible.  I was grateful that they dragged themselves out of bed early in order to make sure I got there in time.  

The race is point to point, so the shuttle brought us up the mountain to Ojai.  When we stepped off the shuttle (yellow school bus), I saw the starting line and a group of runners lining the curb and steps above it.  I made small-talk with my random bus seatmate, Vincent, a very nice, soft-spoken, skinny Asian guy, who if you saw on the street would never know was an amazing runner.  (He told me he had just run a PR in Boston in 2:53 or 2:58.  He would go on to finish this race as #10 overall, with a time of 2:51.)  It was then that I realized how funny runners are.  Here we were, at 4:30 am, stooping on the curbs while waiting for the race to start, some of us wearing old shabby clothing, others sporting garbage bag chic, some talking about the nightmares they had last night (the oddest had to be the shuttle going up in flames), walking around with our unassuming normal upper bodies and ripped or chicken-leg legs.  I love this quirky community. 

With time, I was reunited with Nicole and crew and we eventually made our way through a final round of porta potty precautions (there weren't that many, the lines were a little long, and the stalls were pretty gross). Nicole and Sara decided to warm up before the race (with only 15 min before starting time), while I decided I would warm up in my first mile (per Jerry's strategy for me, I would run the first mile 30-45 seconds slower than goal race pace then slowly adjust myself to goal).  The starting line was incredibly packed and though the race was incredibly small, several pacers of 5-10 min increments were provided for us.  I didn't see Nicole at all even 5 min before the race, which concerned me and one of her FF training buddies, Michelle, but a few minutes before start, she emerged close to the pacer (she had jumped the "line" just in time).  Then, we were off. 

1. 8:34, 2. 7:59, 3. 8:02, 4. 8:02, 5. 7:58

I had an awkward start, shedding my disposables too late (after crossing the starting line).  I felt weird letting the pacer, Nicole, and Michelle slide out of sight while I warmed up, but I've developed a habit of letting the pacer go and do their own thing until later when I catch them.  My second mile, I panicked as I realized one of my shoe laces was untied (Is this going to cost you your BQ, Carolyn?!) and I think I tried to "make up" for it by running a little faster.  Generally, I felt quite good and went at a comfortable pace.  By Mile 4 or 5, Nicole and Michelle were in sight again, but I didn't push myself to catch up to them.  I must have run .5-1 mile where I was lurking a distance of 15 feet away from them.  I gradually caught up to them and we would begin to run most of our race together.  Despite my faster than 8:12 pace time throughout much of the race, I never caught the pacer until the end.  Let this be a lesson to people who pay too much attention to the pacer; just run your own race!

6. 8:15,  7. 8:08,  8. 8:00,  9. 8:06,  10. 8:03

Jerry had told me not to make any moves until Mile 17, where I could dig deep if I was feeling good.  Secretly, though, I was just hoping to hold on until Mile 20 - doing as I usually do, treating the previous miles as fun run miles - and using the last 10k as my real race.  The series of miles until 17 were mostly uneventful, though a small semi-loop that made us repeat 3-5 & 8.5-10.5 was both confusing and psychologically unnerving.  We started seeing some of the same people throughout the race (some of whom were simply perched in the repetitive miles of the loop but would drive their cars to cheer farther down the race), and it gave you this odd feeling of deja vu and sometimes panic - that you were going in circles without making progress.  For Nicole, this was particularly bad. 

At this point, I could tell it was going to be a decent running day for me, as I didn't have too many cramps or stomach issues and felt like I had a reasonable amount of energy. Though the temperatures were at a high for SoCal at this time of the year (57 to start, predicted 70-75 at end), I was training in much hotter temperatures and worse, in humidity in NC.  These conditions were great for me.  I was also in awe of the picturesque mountain scenery and amused by the gentle downhills that brought us closer to the beach.  Basically, I tried to breathe the awesome air, take in the beautiful sights, and remind myself that this was a marvelous race and no matter what, I loved running and was lucky to be doing it.  I was determined to keep the mental switch flipped to positive, happy, and grateful as long as I could until Mile 20.

Nicole was not having a good day.  As a multi-year resident of California, these were hot conditions and her body was feeling sluggish and off.  Michelle continued to try to pep talk her through the race and they constantly pace checked their watches.  I thought she was trying to be savvy about managing our energy levels (and prevent from going out too fast), but I think they were so closely monitoring the times because she felt bad and was afraid it would get worse, not as a precaution for what might happen in the future.  I tried to cheer her up and I thought her mental switch would flip, but it turns out it never would that day.

Edit: Trying to look chipper early in the race. Photo cred.

11. 8:05,  12. 8:05,  13. 8:04,  14. 8:08,  15. 8:07

Should I have felt scared that I was going much faster than my A goal pace (8:12)?  Probably.  I probably should have stuck each mile closer to, to be conservative, especially since I was insecure about whether I would make it at the end.  But it didn't feel like a crazy pace and I wasn't overly strained, though it was a "working" pace and I probably looked like I ran an entire marathon by Mile 13, haha.  Still, I went with what I felt was reasonable.  As part of trying to keep the mental switch flipped, I tried to thank spectators for being out there and cheer on every Oiselle-outfitted person I saw. (It really made me happy to see the bird out there.)  I noticed throughout the race that most runners were silent, serious, and concentrating on their performance.  I must have been the only nut who was "wasting" their energy by cheering people and smiling, which just goes to show how seriously people use this race to BQ.

These miles were gentle and downhill, which was great.  But, at Mile 7 I began to develop a blister on my right foot (a recurring problem with a specific toe, probably because of the way I strike the ground) and some of the course was on gravel and rough, unpaved concrete, which rubbed my toe the wrong way.  I tried not to focus on it too much, but it was the only "thorn in my side" throughout the entire race.  By the end, the blister would come to claim 180 degrees of my toe, making it the rightful ruler of my toe.  Gross, I know.  Sorry!

16. 8:11,  17. 8:06,  18. 8:03,  19. 8:02,  20.  7:57

As I mentioned before, Nicole and I had starkly different race experiences.  I was chugging along at a slightly risky pace throughout, and would periodically look behind and see that Nicole and Michelle were reigning in closer to the 8:12 pace.  There were several instances where I slowed myself so I would not create a large distance between us, but by Mile 17, I noticed the distance kept increasing.  I tried to make eye contact with Nicole to let her know that I was going to let them go.  After the race, she told me it was the right thing to do.  The 3:35 pace group had been within 30-50 feet for some time, so I set my sights on comfortably catching them by Mile 20.  I accomplished this by mile 19.

Yes, the original plan was to race the pacer by Mile 20 and push the widest gap between us until the end, but after running with them for .5 miles, I was too antsy.  I decided the race would begin at 19.5.

21. 7:53,  22. 7:56,  23. 7:57

Ah, these miles...  I consider the hardest part of the race miles 22 to the end.  I wasn't really monitoring my watch, so now I know why.  Jerry's training plan had me doing one interval workout (mostly at 6:40 pace but later adjusted to 7:00) and one tempo workout (which I did foolishly at 7:00 but later adjusted to 7:40) each week, with long runs that had goal race paces in the last third of my run.  This plan is precisely why I was able to crank it up despite running 19 miles before, because he had been training me to run strong in the end all along.  It mostly worked - throughout most of the race, I felt a tolerable burning in my legs.  But, the fatigue of running a marathon caught me around mile 24.   

24. 8:12,  25.  8:22,  26. 8:37,  .2. 2:08

This was the hardest section of the marathon for me.  By Mile 23, we completed the gentle downhill portion and were now on a secluded bike path that would feed us to flat, exposed road, right next to traffic.  This is precisely what I had experienced in the last 8 miles of the OBX Marathon.  It was warm by then - definitely 70s, maybe even 75.  I felt the weight of my efforts destroy my running form and each step I took seemed so heavy and labored.  From 24 to the end, I checked my watch every .5 miles to see how far I had run.  I was in bad shape.  Despite how I felt, I was only able to keep strong until Mile 25, when I broke down.

This is where I think the race organizers were particularly cruel.  They had us running along the open, sun-exposed roads where we could see the beach-side boardwalk next to us.  Every runner could see exactly where they needed to be towards the end of the course.  The question I kept asking myself over and over again was, when will I reach the turnoff?  It turns out, they made us run at least one mile before reaching the turn that made you go back the way you came.

There was a part of me that tried to tell myself to disregard the pain, to fight for Boston (every second lost is a second that could threaten my ability to actually run it, a second that would diminish the  competitiveness of my time), but I just couldn't push myself to go any faster than that 8:22 and 8:37.  The race course and conditions and my own fatigue psychologically broke me.  Usually, I have enough to pull it in for a speedy finish, but even as I saw the finish line off in the distance and noted my watch with dismay - 3:30 and losing more time with maybe half a mile to go, I could not summon my usual finishing kick.  I really ran the fastest race I could, because I had nothing left but to hold on to the end. 

I finished in 3:33:14 and was overcome with pain and emotion.  40% of me felt relief that it was over and I finally met my goal.  No more marathon training (except Boston), unless I want to.  60% was pain - I was in agony from how hard those last 4 miles had been and from an aching stomach.  I meandered my way through the food area and just tried to find a place to rest when I stumbled across two Oiselle teammates!  I saw Emily on the course (she passed me around Mile 7 or 8? but then I caught her in the deathly 24 or 25th mile) and Nicole, who ran the half in a very respectable time despite mentally breaking down in Mile 10.  

Meeting these fine birds. Photo courtesy of Nicole!

They were such wonderful company to have after the race, but my legs were in so much pain, I was about to get hysterical as I asked them join me in continuing our conversation on the ground.  I really couldn't stand, it hurt that much.  Nicole cheered me up with her engaging conversation and Emily gave me a bottle of Nuun that totally rocked my world.  My Nicole joined me not too long after, and she said congrats to me as she began to tear up.  She hadn't made it, she said.  She was off by 23 seconds.    

So Much Gratitude and So Very Lucky

 

I had so many friends send me love this past weekend, I'm still in a haze from all the support I've received.  From Megan, Crystal, Jen, Joyce, so many of my FF crew, to Oiselle teammates texting and tweeting at me... to my FF program coordinators and coaches texting and emailing... I am so happy to say that I did everyone proud and ran the best race I possibly could.  

On a somber note, I had more reason to be grateful.  On Friday night, we had driven through UC Santa Barbara campus and grabbed dinner before heading to Ventura.  We had the most delicious, healthy food at Silvergreens around 8 or 8:30 and left around 9:30.  It was a really relaxed, great experience.

Around the same time we were leaving, 22 year old Elliott Rodger was beginning a multi-location killing spree 3-4 blocks away that left his 3 roommates and 6 people dead.  We didn't notice anything until we were on the freeway, but saw that there were a large number of ambulances heading towards the direction of where we had come from.  We found out what happened Saturday morning and everyone was unsettled.  We were very, very close to being at the wrong place at the wrong time.  

These thoughts kept me awake Saturday night.  I thought of all the college kids we had seen outside, some of them so carefree as they were skateboarding on the streets or walking in the open road.  Did we encounter anyone who went the wrong direction at the wrong moment?  I couldn't stop thinking about how incredibly lucky we were that our only concern was to run the marathon.  We could have died, we could have been injured... So many things could have gone wrong.  As I write this now, I am still in shock.  Saturday night, I promised myself that no matter how things went, I would cherish the fact that I was alive, healthy, and could do what I love (even marathoning) just another day.

 M2B Review

 

Why did I fly all the way out from North Carolina (or Boston at the time) to run this small timey race in southern California, where I don't know anyone but the people I was traveling with?  Plane tickets are super expensive, the hotel and race fees add up, it really isn't something I have a lot of room for in my student budget. 

The first reason is that I decided my 4th marathon would be a serious attempt to BQ, so I selected this race because of its statistics - it's a huge Boston feeder, where about 30% of runners qualify.  Of course, that could mean any number of things - the course or racing conditions are well-suited for PRing or that a lot of serious runners are drawn to this race.  After this weekend, my conclusion is that the first reason leads the second.  Here is the race elevation map:

The majority of miles are on a gentle downhill.  As I mentioned before, the weather - while atypically warmer than usual (57 to start, ending in the 70s, no humidity) - was still perfect given what I am used to in NC.  The race organizers - while clearly a smaller team - knew their customer, the runner who is looking to seriously PR.  Pacers of the widest range of finishing times I have ever seen in a race were available, there were aid stations set up every 1.5-2 miles.  Some were self serve and some had a small number of volunteers, but I didn't carry my hydration pack or any water with me and I was perfectly fine.  (Minus a few occasions where I had to stop to grab water because they had all been taken right as I approached the table.)  Based on these conditions alone, I would highly recommend this race for people looking to PR.

There are some people who would disagree with me.  Nicole felt that this race wasn't drastically easier from CIM (a Sacramento marathon, also a huge Boston feeder) and my Oiselle teammate Emily felt that Boston Marathon was easier than this one.  I think the biggest challenge a runner has to face with this race is the last 4 miles.  The flat, open road along traffic when the sun is at its peak was certainly a problem for me.  And those last 2 miles which I still shake my head at - if the race organizers could find a way around looping us along a road where we could see other runners just on the other side - I would tell everyone and their moms to sign up.  Still, I think that the early benefits of the course helped me by 5-8 minutes (that is, I think my fitness is currently at a level where I am capable of a 3:40 on an "average", not too hilly course), and these minutes made all the difference especially because of my goals.

There were several things I didn't like, however.  As I keep mentioning, the race is leanly managed.  I was not impressed that race organizers did not even have an information desk at the expo.  Whether it was because they didn't want people appealing their shuttle times or have to deal with any questions, it's just poor form.

The second detractor is the porta potty situation.  Yes, it's a small race - with only 1621 marathoners this year, but I heard people mentioning pre-start that there was a shortage last year. This time didn't seem to be so different.  Maybe there were more around the corner, but it seemed there couldn't have been more than 35 or 40 offered.  The time it took for us to wait to use it before heading off to the start was sufficient for me, but for someone looking to warm up, like Nicole, it was too frantic.  Oh, another bonus detractor - no hand sanitizer in the porta potties pre-start.  So gross.  I was really lucky that along the course, I didn't need to use the bathroom, but I noticed only one or two porta potties offered very infrequently.  Kelsey had to go out in some bushes during the middle of her race and she had the misfortune of placing her hand into a pile of human feces... Yep, that has to go to be an all-time race low.  A runner with sensitive stomach issues or a need to frequently use the bathroom has got to be careful with this race.

The other issue I have is with some of the choices for the race course.  That repetitive loop at 3-5 and 8.5-10.5 was slightly annoying but not terrible.  The final out and back at 25-26 was psychologically awful, but just something you have to get through.  At Mile 17, we went right past some kind of farm and the smell of animal manure was strong and pungent for a few minutes.  I don't know whether this was an anomaly for the race, but it was definitely unpleasant.  For the most part, I found the race to be beautiful.  Taking the bike path was not aesthetically pleasing, but in all, the beauty of our mountain descent made any ugliness towards the end worth it.

So yeah, not trying to end it on a bad note, but I would highly recommend this race, just with a few caveats.  :)  I think the PR attainability of this course makes most of the negatives worth it, though.

Race Stats:
Time: 3:33:14, Average: 8:08 min/mile
Overall: 403/1621, 25th percentile
Sex: 110/813, 13.5th percentile
Age-sex: 23/110, 21 percentile