On February 1, I ran the Surf City Marathon in Huntington Beach, CA. This was the 10th time I did this race. I keep coming back for three reasons.
First, it always has nice
weather. While I can’t rule out the
possibility of rain, I know it won’t be cold.
In the winter, you can travel pretty far south and still encounter frigid
temperatures. Two weeks ago, it was 25
degrees in Savannah. As recently as last
weekend, much of the southeastern U.S. got snow or ice. In Huntington Beach, I know I’ll have
favorable temperatures for running.
Second, it’s a nice
change of scenery. I live 1,000 miles
from the nearest ocean, so it’s nice to see beaches and palm trees, especially in
the winter, when everything at home is covered with snow.
Finally, I know I’ll see some
friends. Over the years, I’ve met lots
of runners from southern California. I’ve
rarely gone to the expo without bumping into someone I know. I also see friends during the race. It helps that the course has two long
out-and-back sections, giving me the chance to see runners who are going the
other way.
Friday, January 30
I’ve sometimes flown into
LAX for this race, but it’s a long drive, and picking up a rental car at that
airport is a hassle. I prefer to fly
into the Orange County airport in Santa Ana.
There’s just one drawback. If I
flew in on Saturday, I would arrive too late in the day for packet pickup. On Friday, however, I could get a direct
flight with a morning departure. For
that reason, I decided it was worth it to arrive a day earlier.
I arrived at the Orange
County airport around noon and drove to my hotel in Huntington Beach. In the past, I’ve often stayed at a hotel in
Santa Ana. This year, I stayed at the
Waterfront Beach Resort, which is right next to the starting line. You can’t beat the convenience of this
location.
After checking in at the
resort, I went for an afternoon run alongside the beach. My running route included part of the
marathon route.
After my run, I picked up
my race packet. As usual, packet pickup
was under a large tent in the beach parking lot, which was across the street
from my hotel.
For dinner, I went to a
restaurant that was walking distance from my hotel.
Saturday, January 31
I don’t usually go
running the day before a race, but the weather in southern California was much
nicer than the weather at home. I
couldn’t resist going for another short run.
This time, instead of running by myself, I joined a shake-out run that
was organized by the Huntington Run Club.
The route we ran was roughly the same out-and-back route I ran on
Friday.
After having lunch at the
resort, I went back to the expo to hang out and look for friends. Then I spent the rest of the afternoon at the
resort.
Although I had a car, I
didn’t feel like driving anywhere. For
dinner, I stayed close to the resort again.
Then I did my best to get to bed early.
I slept well for about
half the night. After that, I struggled
to get back to sleep. I had the same
experience the previous night. Shaking
off a poor night’s sleep isn’t too hard.
When it’s two in a row, it’s a much bigger deal. I wondered how much that might affect my
race.
Sunday, February 1
Sunday was race day. I didn’t have to drive and park or take a
shuttle. The start corrals were right
next to my hotel.
It was about 50 degrees
at the start, but I expected it to warm up to 60 by the time I finished. My legs were a little cold as I lined up to
start, but I knew that wouldn’t last too long.
This race is large enough
to have pace groups. I started the race
with the 4:00 pace group, to make sure I wouldn’t go out too fast. I did a good job of staying with the group
through the first mile, but it wasn’t always easy. The pace leaders sometimes moved into
different lanes. I tried to be careful
about crossing lane lines, because there are reflectors between the lanes. The last time I ran this race, I tripped on
one and hard a hard fall. It also didn’t
help that I had to navigate around people who lined up in front, but weren’t
starting as fast.
Before that mile was
over, I already realized I would need a bathroom stop. I did my best to empty out before the race,
but shortly after I started running, I could already feel pressure building in
my intestines.
Our time for the first
mile was right on pace for four hours.
In the next mile, I allowed myself to get a little bit in front of the
group. That mile was faster, but only by
about 10 seconds.
In the third mile, I
eased up a bit. I continued to run at a
faster pace than the 4:00 group, but not by much.
Just before the end of
that mile, we made our first turn. We
had been running north on the Pacific Coast Highway, but now we turned inland to
run through some neighborhoods and through a large city park.
Right at that turn, I saw
a long row of port-o-potties. I knew I
would eventually need a bathroom stop, but I didn’t want to stop this
soon. I was worried that after stopping,
I would re-enter the race surrounded by slower runners. Before I could make a decision, I was already
getting past the port-o-potties. I
committed to waiting until my next opportunity.
As we were running away
from the coast, another runner saw my Comrades shirt and told me she was going
to run Comrades this year. I talked to
her and another runner for the next few minutes. Then we turned and started up a small hill. I realized at this point that my pace was
starting to feel tiring, so I eased up and let them go ahead.
I was just past the
four-mile mark, when I saw a row of four port-o-potties. By the time I got there, they were all
occupied, and another runner was already waiting for one to open up. I didn’t want to wait, so I pressed on.
In miles two, three, and
four, my pace was about 10 seconds faster than a four-hour pace. Then, in mile five, we ran down a steep
hill. Without trying, I sped up some
more. That mile was 15 seconds faster
than the previous mile.
In the next mile, we
entered the park. Here, there were lots
of turns, so it would have taken more effort to stay in a consistent
rhythm. I allowed myself to slow down
running through the park, and I got back onto the right pace for a four-hour
finish. I was still running well ahead
of the 4:00 pace group.
As I continued through
the park, I saw a building with bathrooms.
Unfortunately, they were all occupied before I got there.
I knew I would pass a row
of port-o-potties before leaving the park.
When I got there, they were all occupied, and there was already a guy
waiting. I was feeling increasingly
uncomfortable, and it was making it harder to stay on pace, but I didn’t want
to stand around waiting. I pressed on.
At the eight-mile mark, I
was about 30 seconds ahead of schedule.
Now, I was starting up the only significant hill on the course. It was the same hill we ran down a few miles
earlier. Since I was ahead of schedule,
I didn’t worry about losing time on the hill.
I continued up the hill with an effort that wouldn’t wear me out.
At the top of the hill, I
reached the same four port-o-potties that I had passed about four miles
earlier. Not only were they all
occupied, but there were two runners waiting in line. I continued around the next corner. Then I was pleasantly surprised to see a long
row of port-o-potties at the end of the next block. Finally, I had a change to make a long
overdue bathroom stop.
It turns out that the
pressure I was experiencing was mostly gas.
Since I had already stopped, I took the time to force out any solids
that I could. That took time, but the
most aggravating part was the time it took to get my shirt tucked back into my
shorts when I was done. I was wearing a
fanny pack, and I also had a jacket tied around my waist. They were both getting in the way. I must have wasted at least a minute, just
trying to tuck in my shirt.
When I emerged from the
port-o-potty and resumed running, I knew I was now well behind the pace
group. I expected the runners around me
to be slower, but it seemed like they were faster. It took quite a bit of effort to get my pace
up to the pace of the runners around me.
What I failed to notice
is that we had merged with the half marathon when we turned the previous
corner. The half marathon was much
larger than the marathon, so most of the runners around me were doing the half
marathon. I had no idea what pace they
were going.
Shortly after turning
another corner, I got a split from my watch.
I ran mile nine in 11:54. That
was almost three minutes slower than my previous pace. I would never be able to make up that much
time.
I continued to run at the
pace of the people around me, but it was tiring. On the other side of the streets, I could see
a huge crowd of half marathon runners still coming from the PCH, as we were
headed back.
The half marathon started
later than the marathon, and they ran a shorter route to reach this point. I didn’t know for sure that they were going
faster until I saw a 2:00 pace group on the other side of the street. They were a significant distance behind the
runners on my side of the street, so the runners around me were clearly going
faster than a 2:00 half marathon pace, which is the same as a 4:00 marathon
pace.
Before long, we turned
back onto the PCH. Then I reached the
10-mile mark. I ran that mile in
8:32. That was my fastest mile of the
race, and it was clearly much faster than my target pace of 9:09. After that, I had to ignore all the half
marathon runners and settle back into a more reasonable pace.
Over the next few miles,
I gradually found the right pace again, but I was tired now. Stopping for a few minutes and then
accelerating to a pace that was too fast took a huge toll on me. I realized now that the rest of the race
would be a struggle.
We continued running
north on the PCH for about three miles before reached the turnaround. On my way back, I reached the halfway
mark. My time for the first half was
about a minute and a half slower than I planned. I knew I wouldn’t be able to make up for
that. Breaking four hours had been one
of my goals, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen. I was already feeling much more tired than I
should be at this point in the race. At
best, I might still run the second half in two hours, but even that seemed
optimistic. A more realistic goal at
this point was to break 4:05. That would
still be a Boston-qualifying time.
Over the next few miles,
I was able to run at the right pace to run the second half in two hours. Part of this section was uphill, so I felt
good about my pace over this section.
I was just past the
15-mile mark, when I was passed by a pace group. It was the 1:50 group for the half
marathon. Their pace was the equivalent
of a 3:40 marathon. That’s a good
indication of how much faster the runners around me were running.
Shortly after the 16-mile
mark, I reached the point where the two races diverged again. Runners in the half marathon continued along
the PCH toward the finish. Those of us
doing the marathon made a U-turn onto the bike bath. We still needed to do another long
out-and-back alongside the beach.
Now, the only runners in
front of me were all running the same race.
In theory, I could stay on pace just by following the runners in front
of me. In practice, that wouldn’t be
fast enough. Most runners, at this
point, were beginning to slow down.
I challenged myself to
keep up with the runners who looked strongest, while passing the runners who
weren’t keeping up. That still wasn’t
fast enough. I found, over the next several
miles, that my average pace was a few seconds per mile too slow. I wasn’t quite keeping up the pace I needed
to run the second half in two hours.
As I got closer to the
turnaround at the far end of the bike path, I saw a few runners I know. I heard a familiar voice call my name, and I
realized it was Rainer, who is a fellow 50sub4 member. Later, I saw Eliot, who is also a 50sub4
member. Finally, I saw the 4:00 pace
group.
I knew at this point that
I was getting close to the turnaround, but I couldn’t see it yet. I had to get around one more bend. Then I could see it.
After making the turn, I
had just over five miles to go. At each
mile marker, I figured out what average pace I would need to break 4:05. It became more and more obvious that I would
beat that time easily. The challenge was
trying to stay on pace to run the second half in two hours. I was close, but I wasn’t quite doing
it. I still tried.
With about two and a half
miles to go, I reached the point where I had turned around on my two training
runs. Eventually, I would turn back onto
the PCH, but until then, everything looked much more familiar. That made it just a little easier to push
myself.
In mile 25, I ran my
fastest mile since the first half of the race.
In the next mile, I encountered a spectator who was encouraging us
enthusiastically. She shouted, “How much
do you have left? Pick it up! Pick it up!
Empty the tank!”
I responded to that and
pushed harder. In mile 26, I had my
third fastest mile of the race, but it was too little, too late.
Although my watch said 26
miles, I really had much more than 0.2 miles to go. Ever since my bathroom stop, my watch had
been off. I couldn’t even see the 26-mile
sign yet.
Now that I was back on
the PCH, I was surrounded by half marathon runners again, but these runners
were going much slower. Earlier, I saw
the 1:50 pace group. Now, I saw the 2:50
group.
The street was congested,
and there wasn’t a separate lane for the marathon. I had to weave around slower runners for the last
few minutes of the race. It wasn’t until
we could see the finish line that other runners started to speed up.
I finished the race in
4:02:01. I didn’t break four hours, nor
did I run the second half at that pace.
On the plus side, I easily broke 4:05, earning another Boston qualifier.
As usual, the finisher
medal included a surfboard. The design
varies from year to year, but I now have 10 surfboard medals.
As I continued through
the finish area, I picked up a water bottle, and I ate a banana. I skipped the beer garden and went straight
to the results tent. In theory, I could
have looked up my official result by scanning a QR code, but with 20,000 people
in the finish area, it was tough for anyone to get cellular reception.
The volunteer at the
results tent also had trouble looking up my result. When she entered by bib number, it showed my
name, but no finish time. The runner
before me had the same problem. She
eventually determined that my times at each mile were in their system, but
there was an extra data point that was confusing things.
When I was able to call
Deb, she told me that she had been tracking me, but after I reached 23 miles,
the tracking showed me back at 16 again.
It’s worth noting that when we finished the out-and-back on the bike bath,
we re-entered the road near the 16-mile mark.
Eventually, the timing
people were able to resolve the problem.
Later in the day, I could see my result online.
I hurried back to the
hotel to take a bath and change into clean clothes. Then I joined three other 50sub4 members for
lunch at a restaurant that was about a mile from my hotel. Walking to and from the restaurant was slow
and uncomfortable, but I think it helped me recover. Even still, I was pretty tired for the rest
of the day.
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