And here we are, more than halfway through the year. July was pretty busy and seemed to pass rather quickly, with just shy of 200 miles (198.1, one of the higher months this year), a 5 miler on the 4th in Ohio, my first Wharf to Wharf (and a top 100 finish), and of course, the Big One, the SF Marathon. The kids and I were in Ohio until about halfway through the month, visiting my family and soaking in all the quality time we could, which was awesome on all accounts.
Iāve written pretty exhaustively about the aforementioned races at this point, particularly the marathon, so I donāt have much more to add, especially on the high-level side of things. Since SF, Iāve taken the past two weeks now pretty easily, running only twice in the week after SF (on Tuesday and Thursday, during swimming, for just about a half hour each) and then going to Disney and walking all day/night and pushing a double on Saturday-Monday. Itās a little weird to not be running a ton at the moment, but I think these two weeks of relative downtime will help me enter into CIM/XC training mode itching to go. In the two weeks post-marathon, Iāve run exactly four times. Thatās it. (And honestly, the break was awesome).
Even with everything Iāve already said about SF, about being grateful to have been able to run in the first place, given the events 6 months ago, to have had an āoff dayā and still be in the 3:20s (and BQ mightily, etc. etc.), I feel kinda shitty to admit that Iām disappointed about how I ran. That also makes me human, so thereās that. Itās frustrating but obviously not the end of the world. This isnāt me looking for pity or the but SF is such a hard course! sentiments or any other justification; itās more of me simply commiserating with everyone who has ever trained hard for a race and come up short. We can control a lot when it comes to training for and racing marathons, but there are also many aspects outside our control. Itās sorta part of the process. Itās cool.
The nice thing, naturally, is that you can pick your perspective on the situation as well as your focus. (Thereās also loads to be said for process versus outcome-based goals, too, obviously). The best thing I can do is chalk up SF ā18 as a learning experience and apply the lessons learned to subsequent training rounds, which is what I plan to do. Iāll start CIM/XC training here shortly, so Iāll have plenty of opportunities soon to test my knowledge. Canāt wait! Ā Ā
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Running: The aforementioned July 4th 5 miler; Wharf to Wharf; and SF Marathon in July. I also got to meet-up in Ohio with my old high school track training partner and got to share some miles with her for the first time in 17 years! It was a blast running with her on an incredibly steamy morning and super fun to compare notes and stories from when we last saw each other nearly 20 years ago. Sheās training for Marine Corps., and sheās going to do so well. (Weāre basically leading somewhat parallel lives, albeit on opposite sides of the country. We had this going for us in high school, too.). I wonāt be pacing the 3:33 group at the Santa Rosa Marathon this year, so I think the only races on the calendar for August are a couple XC meets.
Listening: Finding Mastery had a great conversation with Des Linden that was pretty interesting to listen to; I canāt remember off the top of my head (nor do I have it in my notes), but I also heard a really interesting podcast with Des and her agent, Josh Cox, in the past month. The latter may have been on the Rich Roll show. Also, NYTās The Daily did a two-piece podcast on the history of Roe v. Wade that was pretty illuminating and something I found especially timely, given the upcoming confirmation hearings of Judge Kavanaugh and his potential to seriously threaten the longevity of the ruling. Ali on the Run also had a series of short podcasts with returning guests Ali Kieffer and Sarah Sellers that I liked, too.
Reading: I was on a reading tear in June, and once I finished my books in July, I hit a bit of a rough patch. I finished Michael Pollanās How to Change Your Mind which was worthwhile but weird as hell (Iāll never look at a mushroom the same); I wish heād tour extensively about this book because Iād love to hear him live. Madeline Albrightās Fascism: A Warning was a must-read for anyone remotely interested in policy, international relations, politics, and the like. You get little glimpses of her life story, too, which I knew nothing about. Iāve since started The Handmaidās Tale (my obligatory fiction read of the year, apparently) and am so far kinda eh toward it. I had heard such great things about the book and the TV series that I think Iāve come into it with unrealistic expectations. (And Iām one of those people who refuses to read the book AND watch the show; Iām either one or the other.) What have you been reading lately thatās worth picking up? Lifeās too short to read stuff that we donāt find captivating.
Watching: I took my last couple days of tapering seriously and caught up on Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt (eh) and finally got around to watching The Greatest Showman, which Iām pretty sure has completely rocked my seven year oldās universe forevermore. (The soundtrack is basically in our DNA now, too). I started La la land but havenāt yet finished it and also got around to seeing Wonder Woman,which I left with conflicted feelings. I saw Incredibles 2 and Hotel Transylvania 3 with the kids and my nephews in the past couple months as well, and my kids have been obsessed with the ābad guy musicā from the latter. I continue to be 1000 years behind on the latest and greatest in viewing entertainment, but I welcome suggestions. Ā Maybe Iāll get to them in the next decade.
Anticipating: The last week and a half of summer before both kids start school. I feel like weāve had a great summer with all the travel weāve been able to do and the quality time weāve gotten to share with family and at home. The beginning of the year is always controlled chaos with all the different hats I get to wear, but itās also a lot of fun. Thereās nothing like new starts, right? Enter into the equation starting marathon training as well, and I look forward to how well Iāll be sleeping at night.
Dreading: Nothing especially comes to mind; I mean, I could probably think of something, but nothing leaps out right away, luckily. Iāve got some non-invasive medical follow-up stuff coming up in the next few months related to the prolific GI issues I had last year, but Iām not anticipating much there. (famous last words?) Oh, and itās a ways off still, but my 35th birthday present to myself is ā¦ drumroll ā¦ a baseline mammogram. Hoo-ray. Thank you, insurance.
It seems like no matter where you live, thereās That One Race that everyone raves about, the one that everyone says is their favorite, that youāve absolutely gotta do, gotta put it on your calendar and register the moment it opens so youāre sure to be part of the fun. Since moving to the Bay Area almost five years ago now, I think That One Race has been both CIM, on the long side of things, and Wharf to Wharf, on the shorter side.
Of course, I already raced and wrote about CIM back in December, but until last weekend, I havenāt been able to race at Wharf to Wharf simply due to timing. More specifically: itās always been on the same race weekend — hell, on the same day — as TSFM. This year, however, due to WTW always being on the fourth Sunday in July and TSFM going to the (random and rare) fifth Sunday of the month, I was finallyable to register to run both.
I have heard about or read about Wharf to Wharf since shortly after moving here from probably 284107 people. Itās a 6 mile, not 6.2 mile, point-to-point course that begins in Santa Cruz and ends in Capitola, all of which is a simple, 45ish minute, just an āover the hillā drive. Iāve run in SC several times now because of SIB, but I had never run in, let alone visited, Capitola. From what I gleaned from the collective masses who have done WTW, the course would take runners periodically in and out of neighborhoods very near the coast, and when you werenāt in the road in front of someoneās house, youād be running adjacent to the coastline, likely offering you pretty views of the water and quite pleasant running weather.
…but really, itās about the party and the people, as these things often are. The so-called ābest little road race in Californiaā caps registration around 16k runners (and sells out in literal minutes), and Iāve seen and heard it referred to as āChristmas in July,ā homecoming, a reunion, the best race of the year, a 6 mile block party, the one race worth doing each year, and so on. Though itās not a PA race, no doubt due to its proximity, its storied history (forty+ years and counting), the thrill of shooting for a top 100 placement, and the simple fact that most every human alive loves the SC/Capitola area, my Wolfpack team historically has always fielded a co-ed team there and this year easily numbered 40+ strong (probably our largest collective attendance at any event all year).
Talk about a fantastic first race back after running in the midwest for a month, right?
As Janet and I drove over the hill Sunday morning, we chatted about how we were feeling, our goals for the day, and for me, how I was feeling a week out from the San Francisco Marathon. By virtue of never doing a 6 mile race, WTW would be one of those cheeky, automatic PRs, which is both silly and fun. As I told Janet, though, I didnāt quite know how to approach the race. Itād likely be my last hard running before TSFM, and with the added benefit of being on the beginning-of-taper legs, but ā¦ was it prudent to try to ādo somethingā with this race and distance? Would doing so potentially hinder my SF race in a weekās time? Or should this just be another workout-within-a-race, as was the case with the races I ran in Ohio just a few weeks ago? I really didnāt know what the best approach would be and figured (read: hoped) that Iād get that realization sometime in the next couple hours before go time.
My teammates and I warmed up for a couple miles over to the starting area, along the way bumping into and finally getting to meet the lovely Page (at last!), and there were people eeeeeeeeeverywhere. Where did all these people come from?! Ā It was impressive. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Santa Cruz so busy.
Marathonfoto was out taking pictures, Steph Bruce and a few other Hoka pros were warming up, I ran into tons more friends and teammates in the starting corral (a hug for you! And a hug for you! And a hug for you!), and before long, we were sardined into the starting area very near the Santa Cruz Boardwalk, and we were off.
Most of my other teammates and I were smooshed into the Elite wave, which for me promised almost definitely coming off the line hot so as to avoid getting Lion King-style trampled by the sea of humanity surrounding me. My dear friends Meg and Janet, both WTW veterans of a million years between them, as far as I was concerned, described the raceās changing topography to me before the race, and both warned that everyone would come off the line hot, try as you might not to. Yeahā¦ guilty. Unabashedly so.
My Garmin had about 250ā elevation over the six mile race, which in the grand scheme of things is relatively inconsequential, but of course, when youāre trying to run hard and fast and also carve out a little racing space for yourself, the smallest blips feel catastrophic. I donāt remember there being too many big hills — the largest/longest being later in the race, right around when Meg caught up to me and cheerfully said āthis is the last one of the race, and itās the longest!ā before zoom-zooming off — but I definitely concur with others who have said that while WTW hills pale compared to those of TSFM, for example, this ain’t a pancake flat course.
I think part of the magic of WTW is its fanfare. In addition to the 16k runners and walkers actually doing the race, much of the course is lined with spectators — folks whose homes weāre running past, tons of bands, children handing out leis, people at a farmerās market — and I didnāt detect much in the way of animosity. Naturally, closing down city streets can be a huge PITA to residents, and Iāve helped at or run enough races to know that some people get rather salty on the subject. Not so at WTW. Surely no doubt because the race has been around for more than four decades, presumably at the same time of the month each July, people along the route appeared to have grown to know, expect, and shoot, dare I say embrace the chaos. I saw a local newspaperās report that said that WTW weekend brings in something like millions of dollars to the local economy, too, which dear god–for a 6 mile race?! That apparently every runner in these parts of California loves?! Thatās pretty good in my book.
Because Iām so unfamiliar with where we actually ran, I canāt offer much in terms of a scenic play-by-play. It was super fun to be surrounded by so many runners I knew, though, both on my team and from others, making it feel like I was running alongside, in front of, or behind someone I knew for the entire journey. Iād pass someone I knew, and then soon enough, someone different would come up and pass me; it was like a reunion-on-the-go of sorts. Honestly, it was a blast.
For this race, the top 100 male and top 100 female finishers each earn a Ā¼-zip jacket made by California-based Rabbit, making āearning a jacketā something of a pursuit for the raceās fastest runners. New for this year, too, was a complimentary membership to PWR LabĀ for the top 100 finishers. Each year, the 100 finisher time threshold changes — which makes sense, right, because itās dependent on who shows up that day and how fast they all run — and importantly, itās based on gun time, not chip time. This helped to explain the sardine formation in the Elite wave at the start; no one wanted to lose precious seconds! As I was running, I tried to get a feel for how many women were in front of me at any given time, but I had no freaking clue. After all, I could only see so far ahead due to the courseās turns and bends.
Based on conversations with my teammates and a cursory look at previous yearsā finisher times, I thought I may have a chance to break into the top 100, but if this race was anything like the PA races, it would be iffy at best and leaning toward “unlikely” than otherwise. More than anything, I wanted to stay present in the current moment of racing — going so far to actually write HERE on my left hand as a physical reminder of the sentiment — and to run a strong effort from start to finish without mentally checking out when shit got uncomfortable which, assuming the earth was going to continue to spin on its axis that morning, would surely happen at some point or another.
Of course, there were uncomfortable moments, particularly on some of the late-stage long ascents, but I feel pretty happy with how I managed my expectations and how I kept attempting to rally on the descents — use gravity here! It doesnāt matter if youāre tired; youāre freaking going downhill! Donāt be a baby!! — to make up for time. It’s so easy to dissociate, but I’m not convinced that that’s the best way to race. Sometimes discomfort can be illuminating.
And before too long, we were at mile 5, the beginning of a basic all-downhill final mile into the finish line. I had been passing women, others had been passing me, and one of my teammates, Mitch, was within view and practically close enough to me that we could have finished the race together holding hands. I willed myself to stay near him and to finish strong, on super tired legs, and to keep the turnover high for the downhill mile. Seeing and hearing Sara (with her newborn!) around mile 5.5 screaming at me that I looked strong, along with my constant reminder to stay mentally engaged, helped Mitch and me finish practically alongside each other as we hurled ourselves down Cliff Drive.
Like that, I finished and flew through the womenās chute — something like 40:57, a 6:49 pace — and a very pleasant gentleman handed me a hot pink rectangular ticket with #94 on it and instructed me to go get my jacket. 94?! holyshit I eked out a top 100!! What a surprise!! Moments later, it was more hugs for you! And a hug for you! And a hug for you! as I continued to run into more friends and teammates, all of us absolutely sopping with sweat and the humidity that we had apparently absorbed from the morningās overcast skies. I spent a good while catching up with Michael, who had asked about my stroke and how everything had been going for the past ~6 months with running and training, and between talking with him and his GF, chatting with pro Steph Bruce (who had placed 4th and was first American woman overall), seeing TSFM ambassador buddy Elysha, and then meeting up with more teammates and friends for more pictures, my little heart was just on overdrive. Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā
Donāt get me wrong, earning a jacket was cool and such an honor in such a fast field. (Fun fact: finisher #100 for the womenās side was my 6 month pregnant friend Connie! And the top 100 men cut-off at like 5:45 pace [holyshit!]). Running a good-for-me time a week ahead of my target marathon was a nice confidence booster, too. Being able to race in a pretty location is always enjoyable as well.
What made this race — really, the whole morning, from start to finish — was being able to do it and share it alongside so many friends and teammates. People so often say that running (and/or racing) is this singular, solitary pursuit, and this race experience flies squarely in the face of that accusation. This race is all about the community — the people who organize it, the residents of both towns that runners veritably take over for several hours on a Sunday morning in July, the many non-profits that directly benefit from the raceās funds, the businesses who see increased sales each year over race weekend, the running teams from high school through post-collegiate who use the race as a backdrop for a reunion, whatever — this race screamsĀ community from start to finish. The beautiful scenery, the fun vibes, finishing next to the beach, the rainbow arches that demarcate each mile marker — all of that stuff is fun and special, too.
But the community.
The community!
Perhaps fittingly, then, a handful of lady Wolves and I ran back to the start, another 6.66 miles, just furthering my claim here that the race is all about your people and your company. (Plus, it seemed a better use of time than waiting to be shuttled back). I have so few opportunities to race and train alongside many of my teammates, so being able to do that for a long while, several times, over the course of the morning ā¦ again, my heart. So full. So happy.
At this point, Iāll keep my concluding ruminations short. In a nutshell:
Do this race.
Put the registration time and date on your calendar, and F5 for all youāre worth.
Get some buddies to do it with you as well.
Make a day or a weekend out of it.
Revel in the raceās simple logistics — bibs get mailed to you (at no additional cost), you get your shirt once you finish, along with a little goody bag — and enjoy the bigger picture of the morning.
Race it hard, or jog or walk it.
Six miles is a good distance because it necessitates training, but it’s also not a distance whose training will necessarily dwarf your other responsibilities in life for a few months.
However you do Wharf to Wharf, do it.Ā Enjoy it. Itāll be hard not to.