Hi Folks-
Here's my race report from yesterday's Big Sur marathon. I've never
posted here, but I did appreciate reading some other people's reports
from previous years, so I thought I'd share mine. Be forwarned: it's
long!
Cheers,
--Chris
Big Sur International Marathon Race Report
4/24/05
So, about 6 months ago, I was following a workout regimen that had me
run a 10k. I had a little success at that distance and that planted
some dangerous seeds. Over the next couple of months, I somehow got it
in my head that it would be great to run a marathon at some point in my
life and that point was now. It sure seemed like a good idea at the
time.
I chose the Big Sur International Marathon for a number of reasons.
First, it is supposed to be one of the prettiest marathons out there.
Add in its proximity and the fact that the timing of the race was
pretty good, and there you go! It was rated as the number one marathon
in the world a couple of years ago. The downside is that is also one
of the hardest courses out there; think huge hills and demoralizing
headwinds. I registered in a fit of motivation and began training in
earnest. I followed a 16 week beginner's course that involved
bunches of short and medium runs, plus a weekly long run that started
at 9 miles, all the way up to 20. Fun, fun!
Fast forward to today. After much logistical planning and calculation,
I ended up at the Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park down at Big Sur. The
previous night had me horizontal in the bed in my hotel room at 9:00pm
or so. I fell asleep at about midnight and promptly awoke at 1am. My
wake up call finally came at 4:00am and I was on my way to catch the
buses the start. It was dark and cold even when we got there at
5:45am. After killing time and being impatient, we finally lined up on
Highway One in reverse order of predicted finishing time. I trained
for about 4:30 on a flat course. The rule of thumb at Big Sur is that
you add 20-30 minutes onto your "normal" marathon pace to estimate
your finishing time. Like I have a normal marathon pace! As they say:
"Come to Big Sur to run the worst time of your life. And for the
best!" Cue the singing of the national anthem, the release of the
ceremonial doves, and the report of the starter's pistol. It caught
me a little by surprise, but I punched my watch and we were off. It
took a little over two minutes from the gun until I crossed the
starting line.
The first few miles were filled with runners densely packed, hooting
and hollering, and a pretty laid back pace. This was a good thing as
some of the strongest advice I received was to go out very slowly and
conserve energy. Apparently it is very common for rookies like myself
to go out way too fast and burnout before the end of the race. So, I
chugged along and did my best to keep from running too fast. All the
rest and tapering I had done in the past week or two meant that my legs
were fresh and felt great! Part of a common marathon strategy is to
take walking breaks during the race to conserve energy and distribute
some of the work to otherwise unused muscles. I tried to force myself
to walk when I was supposed to walk, but it was quite a challenge.
By mile four or five, things had finally thinned out a bit and I was
starting to get into my groove. There are aid stations with water and
Gatorade every 2.5 miles or so which were definitely patronized. The
miles just seemed to click off effortlessly. At every mile marker,
there were a couple of volunteers that yell out your split time and
your projected finish time. Thanks to my fancy watch and a little
math-on-the-go, I was doing to same thing to check my pace. However,
it was nice to get reassurance that I wasn't way off. I spent much
of the first part of the race with a projected 4:35 time. A little
faster than I thought, but 4:30 did have a nice ring to it. There was
still a whole lot of race left, though. The first five miles were just
gorgeous among the tall redwoods and the energy of all of the runners
was truly overwhelming.
The scenery had changed significantly as we were now running though big
rolling pastures with much more exposure to the elements and occasional
glimpses of the Pacific. The sky threatened to rain a couple of times,
but we never got more than a little mist. The overcast skies kept
things cool throughout the race, and the famous Big Sur headwinds were
barely noticeable. To describe conditions as perfect for running would
not be an exaggeration. We broke out into a few incredible views of
the ocean that would continue for quite some time. By mile eight, I
was still feeling very strong and loving life when the first decent
hill hit. The good news was that the ascent didn't take too much out
of me. The bad news was that it was a mere appetizer for the big
kahuna of hills: Hurricane Point. More on that in a bit. Our reward
for the big hill was a nice descent and view of the Point Sur
Lighthouse. Hurricane Point finally showed its intimidating face and it
sure looked BIG! It's decently steep, but the hardest part is how
long the climb is - two miles straight up, followed by 1.5 steeper
miles back down on the other side. So, I just started plugging away.
I ended up running with a group of six other runners that were being
"coached" but what appeared to be a BSIM veteran in strategy for
getting up Hurricane Point. His tips seemed to be logical to me, so I
followed the group's intervals of running a certain number of strides
(60) followed by walking half that number. We motored up the hill
pretty quickly and our new-found coach claimed that his strategy would
get us to the top both faster and feeling more refreshed than plodding
away slowly up the hill. That was good enough for me, and in
retrospect I think it worked out nicely. After 20 minutes of climbing,
we got to the Point itself. A quick look back to enjoy the view of
what we had conquered, and we were off the other side. Hurricane Point
is named after the viscous winds that frequent the top. However, it
was pretty mild and that most appreciated!
Down the other side on the steep descent, I struggled to both keep my
speed under control as well as not pound my quads into total oblivion.
I definitely like downhills better than uphills! Bixby Bridge came
into view and I could only think of certain friends of mine who get
their entertainment from jumping off of it (with parachutes, of
course!). I passed the official halfway point in 2:17, so I was still
on a relatively fast pace. In a best case scenario, you run the second
half of a marathon faster than your first half. I was still harboring
dreams of doing that myself, but I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able
to keep up the pace through the much harder second half. It was nice
to know that I had some minutes in the bank, which I could use and
still keep my time respectable. And did I ever need them!
For the next couple of miles, it was going quite well. Strangely
enough, I was truly enjoying myself. Only small aches and pains, my
legs still felt ok, and the coastal scenery was breathtaking. A few
rolling hills presented mile 16 and I knew we only had 10 left! There
was at least once good climb in there and I realize that I'm
definitely working harder. I had a mental goal and marker at 20 miles
as that was the longest training run I had done. I just started
focusing on getting to 20 miles in passable shape and I figured I could
take stock from there. It was just three short miles, right? I
noticed that my field of view has shrunk and appreciation of the
scenery has definitely tailed off a little. I hunkered down and kept
at it. By this point, I had met a couple of folks on the course and we
were running with each other at times, chatting, and just trying to
survive together. Luke was a tiny dude from UC Santa Barbara who was a
PhD candidate in music. Chris was a Yankees fan with at NY Yankees
logo tattoo on his right calf. With most people doing some walking and
some running, you tend to see a bunch of the same runners. I also
started naming the people that I kept seeing but didn't really meet.
Hey, there goes Crazy Tattoo Lady. Ooh, I'm about to catch up to the
Backpacking Chicks. Look, it's Weird Love Handle Dude (who talked a
little too much to just about everyone!). Flag Dude was a guy running
with a big American flag (4x6) on a wooden pole with a Marine Corps
jacket on that said "Pain is just weakness leaving the body." I
realized that had started to rid myself of some weakness, but there was
probably much more to come! I learned in Monday's paper that Flag
Dude is Johnny Chavarria, a Vietnam Vet from Salinas with a nice
picture of him: http://tinyurl.com/csl6t .
I finally get to mile 20 and was starting to feel it. My time was
still ok at 3:32 and I knew I only had six miles left. With a little
more math and a realistic assessment of my condition, I realized that
4:30 is out the window unless some sort of miracle occurs and the rest
of the course magically transforms into a six mile descent. Yeah,
right. But, I figured I had almost two hours to finish the last six,
so at least I knew I have the finish in the bag! (You have to finish
in under 5:30 to get a medal and be considered "official."😉 At
that point, my legs had starting to get wobbly, my back and shoulders
were a little tight, and my knees had begun to ache in earnest. There
was no time to bemoan my fate, though, and I knew that I was
(hopefully!) an hour or so from being done. Mile 21 was tough, but
nothing compared to mile 22 or thereabouts. At that point, the course
heads in to the Carmel Highlands. Although pretty, the road becomes a
series of short, steep hills that are punishing. They are made even
more brutal by the fact that the road has an incredibly steep camber
(side to side) that brutalizes the ankles and knees so late in the
race.
Without going into too much gory detail, let's just say that the last
three miles were simply a suffer-fest. There's no real way around
that. I knew that I was going to finish, and do so with a respectable
time. Yet, the dark side of my brain kept trying to scream out and
save me from any more torture. I confess to seeing the course marshals
on bikes pass by and the cops in their cars and wondering if I could
somehow sneak a ride someway. I distinctly remember running over a
small bridge and semi-seriously considering jumping off of it just so I
wouldn't have to keep running. With no parachute handy, I thought
better of the idea and slogged on. I tried to remember to keep looking
far ahead and not just a few feet in front of me. I also tried to
ignore my aching lower body, whose complaints had been getting rather
loud and unruly. It is not an exaggeration to say that every single
step was felt from the bottom of my feet through my hips and back.
What price glory?
I had lost a couple of minutes in the last few miles and my projected
finish time was slipping a bit. I knew I had 5:00 in the bag, and it
looked like I could bust 4:45 with a little effort. The mile 25 marker
came into view and so we were officially on the home stretch with only
1.2 miles remaining. My time was 4:32 and the quick math said I had to
really turn it on if I was going to do the last 1.2 miles in 13 minutes
including one big hill. I knew it was going to be close to beat 4:45.
Yikes. The last major hill came into view and is named "D-minor hill
at D-major time." I only can say that it might be more appropriately
name the "D-moralizer!" It's only a quarter-mile climb, but it
is steep and brutal. I clawed my way to the top and started the slow
descent towards Carmel. The crowds started to build and a few folks
claimed that we had done it, no more hills. Straining to catch a
glimpse of finish line, I saw only the last very slight rise. It's
neither big nor steep, but I guarantee you it is not flat! I finally
caught sight of the flags on the big tents at the finish and was pretty
sure I was almost there. I spotted the 26 mile marker and checked my
watch: 4:43 and change. Oh, boy, it's gonna be a tough .2 and I
gotta turn it on if I'm going to make it.
The crowd was thick and yelling and cheering and giving its all. While
it was really nice, I must say that I was so focused on survival and
making it to the finish that I barely noticed! I knew in the back of
my head that I should be keeping an eye out for my family and friends
who had made the trip down for moral support. I figured they would
catch my attention somehow, so I just focused on the finish line. By
now, the actual line was in sight and I caught glimpse of the official
clock. It said 5:04:03. WAIT! HUH? That can't be! Oh, phew,
that's the clock for one of the walking events. I catch the official
marathon clock and it is at 4:44 and change. With every last bit of
energy, I crank it up into some semblance of a kick. I must have
picked off at least 20 runners in the last 50 yards. I was totally
focused on the line. I put on my finisher's smile and got ready to
cross. At the last moment, I heard my posse yelling my name and
spotted the group of them right on the left side of the line. It was
very cool to have such great support. I remember throwing my hands up
and yelling at them "I'm alive!" as I took my final few steps
over the finish line, and into the chute. I looked down at my watch
and even had the presence of mind to punch it and stop it. My official
time: 4:44:51.
Ah, the aftermath. My last quasi-sprint decided to catch up with me.
The volunteers in the finisher's chute tried to get my attention to
take off my timing chip, but I had to focus on staying vertical. I
felt my heart pounding for all it was worth. My breathing became a
little difficult and it felt like my throat was closing up, so I
decided I better start looking for some place to sit down before I went
down hard. They slapped my medal around my neck and I think I mumbled
a thank you. Realistically, I figured I was about 10 seconds from
fully passing out, oh joy! Fortunately, my cardiovascular system
decided to catch up and I began to feel better. I made my way back up
the chute to get my chip taken off. Lucky for me, they had people
there sitting in chairs with little footstools for the runner's feet.
I stuck my shoe up there and the nice volunteer untied my shoe,
grabbed my timing chip, retied the shoe and sent me on my way with a
hearty congratulations. Back down the chute I went and I collected my
Big Sur Marathon mylar blanket. They hand those out to try and keep
the runners from cooling off too quickly. I found my buddy Luke and we
exchanged big grins and hugs. I stumbled through the finisher's tent
pickup up my post race food and water, and emerged on the other side to
find my posse of friends and family. Triumph!
Overall, it was a pretty intense experience. I'm not swearing off
marathons, but it will probably take a fair amount of convincing to do
another one. I imagine that any course will be a disappointment
compared to Big Sur. This was 16 miles of fun, 4 miles of really hard
work, and 6 miles of brutal suffering. Like I said, it sure seemed
like a good idea at the time! I wouldn't trade it for anything.
Check out http://www.bsim.org for tons of information, results, and
some cool pictures.
Ok, for you running geeks, here are my stats.
Bib: 3546
Overall: 1903 out of 2871 official finishers (4500 registered)
Official time: 4:44:51 (from the gun until I hit the finish)
Mile pace: 10:47 per mile
Chip time: 4:42:43 (from me actually hitting the starting line to the
finish)
Rank in gender: 1325 out of 1806
Rank in division (males, 30-34): 181 out of 252
Rank in Clydesdales (males over 200lbs): 66 out of 130 (only 130
Clydesdales out of 1806 males!)
Quoted message said:From my watch:
26 laps, 4:44:56 (I started it at the gun, and stopped it a few
seconds after I finished)
10:57 lap average, 8:58 best lap 13
Here are my lap splits:
Lap Lap time Elapsed Time Comments
1 12:01 12:01 includes first two minutes getting to starting line
2 10:25 22:27 getting warmed up, still crowded
3 10:19 32:46
4 9:58 42:44 now this is a good pace
5 10:11 52:56
6 10:19 1:03:15
7 10:23 1:13:39 a few small hills
8 10:13 1:23:52
9 10:27 1:34:20 decent hill
10 9:43 1:44:04 yay, downhill!
11 11:55 1:55:59 Hurricane Point, part 1
12 11:06 2:07:05 Hurricane Point, part 2
13 8:58 2:16:03 Steep downhill, smokin'!
14 9:52 2:25:66 Still downhill somewhat
15 10:31 2:36:28
16 10:47 2:47:15
17 10:22 2:57:37
18 11:27 3:09:04 The hills really start getting to me
19 11:11 3:20:16
20 11:35 3:31:52 Uphill
21 9:19 3:41:11 Downhill
22 14:01 3:55:13 Brutal Carmel Highlands hills
23 11:57 4:07:10
24 12:11 4:19:21 Ouch
25 11:49 4:31:11 Mommy!
26 13:44 4:44:56 Includes last .2 miles. Yee haw!