Okay, so onto the race report that was due many weeks ago!
(Disclaimer - I love my fiancee! This race together had some tense moments, which just reflects that we aren't good racing buddies. Good thing we're wonderful life buddies :). Anything below that might seem critical of Ed is during-race frustration being voiced, not real criticism of the wonderful man that I am marrying! This was a real learning experience for us as a couple, and one that I'm glad we got to have. Okay, carry on :))
I had been looking forward to this race with nervous anticipation for quite some time. My mind was playing odd tricks - I kept feeling like the race was really long for me, and also not going to feel that long. I think my old running mindset kept popping back in!
The issue with this was that we didn't really alter our running the weeks before the race. We ran a very challenging 12 miler two weekends before and a quad busting 10 mile run on the infamous Dipsea trail the weekend before.
Apparently - bad idea.
So, I started the race not entirely fresh.
Added to this was the decision that Ed and I made - to run this race together. We have a great time running together most every weekend, and I was excited about having his support running my longest distance ever in a while.
We had a great time starting the race. Our timing ankle bracelets were looking stylish, and we enjoying the road race style start, complete with a huge start/finish arch and super uplifting music blasting.
We were smiling and having a great time for about the first 7 or 8 minutes. Then things started getting a little rough.
Ed tried, he really did, but about a mile in he was already bemoaning our "slow pace" (while I was huffing and puffing). Suffice to say, we went out way to fast for me (sub 11 minute miles on uphills!!!). I could also tell that Ed wasn't enjoying himself. We weren't really talking. He was carrying the camera, and so I asked him to take some pictures (which I thought he'd like - he'd get to stop and then do some fast running to catch up. Apparently, this isn't as much fun for him as I find it. Oops!)
Ed snapped this great one of me crossing one of 6 or 7 creeks that we crossed within the first 2 miles. We had never had a race like this and had a ton of fun crossing (though on the way back, they would prove to be decidedly less fun...)
The beginning was relatively rolling, but then we went off onto a singletrack, where some serious climbing started.
We were rewarded with some nice downhill and vistas once we reached the top of the singletrack,
and I happily switched to downhill gears.
At this point I asked Ed if he was enjoying taking pictures. "No," was the short answer. Okay, I let him know that I would stop asking :). I was trying to have fun, but it was hard because I could tell things were just off between us. I felt badly that I couldn't go faster, but there was just no way. Especially because on the downhills, I started getting a side ache! I had had this problem on the last two runs, and I think was from just pushing way too hard.
As we started up our next steep downhill, I approached the elephant in the room. "Are you having fun?" I asked him. "No, not really," he replied. He shared that it was mentally hard for him to get passed so much and that it felt, to him, that we were going even slower than we normally go on our runs together (the garmin proved that we were going substantially faster, but I think it was just the race environment). I offered to let him go ahead, but, to him, that would have been even worse, since he was already so far behind.
Ed also made a really good point. He said one of the things that was making it less fun was that we weren't talking that much - very different from our normal runs together. I gently explained that, at this pace, it just wasn't feasible for me to talk :P.
Thankfully, he decided to switch mindsets. I told him to try to just think of this as a normal run together. If he let up on the pace, I could even talk a bit more! As a peace offering, he offered to take this picture of me trudging up the hill.
From here, the race was a lot better. I still felt slow and out of shape, but at least now I had Ed as support :).
At the top of this hill, we were greeted with some great vistas, of diablo's peak and the valley to our right.
This next part was nice. We got to walk when I wanted and I tried to run when I could. Everything was unbelievably green and just so pretty. Ed even stopped to take in the view (and let me rest).
The next section, though, was hard. We were less than halfway in and my legs were already feeling a bit fried. Plus, the sun was really out and shining down on us in full force.
I was definitely feeling a bit resigned. I knew we had gone too fast, and I was concerned about finishing the race. I was also feeling a bit down - it sucks to be hurting with so much race left. At this point, Ed acknowledged that we had probably started to fast and was being very nice about not pushing me. These hills seemed to go one for a long time.
Thankfully, we eventually saw Rock City, which was exciting on multiple levels. First, because I was fairly sure it meant we were close to our aid station - I needed water badly and knew some food would lift my spirits. It was also exciting because it reminded me of Diablo Marathon and the good times I had with that race. I had fun pointing out the trails we used for that as we went along. The people were also fun to watch climbing (click the picture above to see some of them).
After what still seemed like too long, we finally reached cheerful faces, helpful hands, and delicious cookies and chips. Since I was trying to be healthy I first dove into oranges and ravenously devoured at least 4 pieces, maybe more. Then, I went for salt - I took a salt cap that was offered and grabbed a few handfuls of chips. I also had 2 very small cookies. I totally would have grabbed more (and possibly should have) but my healthy eating voice told me to take chips instead (probably not that much better).
We took off, after saying our thanks, with chips in hand. Walking up the hill, Ed and I were feeling in higher spirits, especially since we had seen our trail earlier from up above, and new downhill was coming soon.
We were on a trail that was part of the marathon course for a bit, and were seeing more and more flowers along the trail. Ed took this one to commemorate the flowers (and give me a rest). You can faintly make out the grimace on my face - I was hurting here.
We stopped one more time before the downhill really got going to commemorate the start of the downhill
and the beautiful wildflowers that covered this field.
The downhill, unfortunately, was not as joyous as I had hoped. It was pretty steep and was aggravating my side. Plus, it was horribly muddy at points, which slowed me to a crawl, as my weak legs tried to navigate the sludge without slipping. I told Ed to go ahead of me here, but wait for me if he got too far ahead. This let me go at my pace. My legs were thrashed, so I couldn't even go as fast as I wanted, but I did the best that I could.
From here on out, it was painful, demoralizing and depressing. I felt like I could barely keep moving. It didn't help that we had even more streams and puddles to cross. Though, puddles would be severely underestimating things. There was this huge "puddle" or, rather, small pond. I suck at balancing on rocks, so unlike Ed, I had to go through. It went past my knees and was far across!
I really tried, really tried, to run. Ed joked about waiting for my end of the race push that I had promised. Sorry, honey, but you decided you wanted my speed at the beginning. I had nothing left for the end.
We spoke the obvious at this point - this would not be a repeat experience for us (though Ed just suggested today that we could run a race together next month. Apparently his memory is not as long as mine! I reminded him that, no, we will not be doing that :) ).
Eventually, we crossed the last of our streams (that I was sadly walking slowly through, practically stuck in the middle of each one as I mustered up the strength to make it to the other side).
I did pull it together for the very end. Ed promised the finish was almost there, so I pushed and soon enough, saw the finishing line. The cheering spectators were wonderful and motivating to keep going. We both were finally running faster and I admit, my eyes starting tearing a little as I finished. I was just so, so happy to be finally done.
We got our medals and grabbed a seat, where we had the best hot dogs with chili ever. I was so exhausted, but a little proud, too, that I finished.
Before we left, Ed snapped a picture of me by the finish
and then we walked the mile back to the car. Ed drove home while I reflected back on the race.
I've been reflecting on this race a lot since, and I think I needed to run a successful race (Big Sur was awesome!!!!) to be able to look back on this race with a more positive outlook.
It was a learning experience, as I said, but it just wasn't my race. That's okay - it happens.
Up next, a review of my amazing experience at Big Sur!