Off Roading, Part two: #30, The Northface Challenge

 

 

I ran my 30^th marathon last Saturday, December 7^th, 2013.  I ran the 26.2 miles through the rightfully famed and epically gorgeous Marin Headlands in San Francisco, Ca.  The race is called the Northface Challenge because it is sponsored by Northface, and there are many different distances offered to “challenge” one self.  I chose my old standby marathon distance, but there were a 50K and 50 mile races offered that day as well. Honestly, I kind of felt a little wussy choosing half the distance,26.2 miles, but I just can’t quit my sweet 26.2.  The morning was cold, but sunny, as I met many amazing people as we hovered together around a heat lamp before we headed off to the start line where Marathon Man himself, Dean Karnazes, lead is in a quick pep talk, and then waved us all good luck and off we ran into nature.  Oh yeah, in case you were wondering, this was a trail runJ

 

I registered for this race in early February 2013, I was intrigued because it was going to be a real challenge for me. I knew the course was tough from talking with friends who had run it before, and I felt for the first time in a while a twinge of butterflies in my stomach when I clicked “Register” on the website.  I was nervous, scared actually, but still excited to learn more about running and myself through training and competing in this race.

The specific trail training I ran before this race could be described as minimal at best.   I ran the Santa Clarita marathon on 11/3, so I had only five weeks to properly prep for this race with putting in long runs in the hills, and even though I cranked out some great runs, I should have done much, much more in months prior. **PLEASE give yourself many miles on the trails if you choose to race a marathon in the dirt.  I had a ball discovering new trails above my YMCA where I swim, and galloping across familiar trails from my years on the Claremont Cross Country team, Go Wolfpack! However, this running life is its own journey, so now I know running on trails is valuable throughout the year, not just five weeks before a trail marathon…

The course can be described in three words: hilly, beautiful, and hilly… I was not surprised by the hills, but they were steep, and went up for miles. Therefore, I chose my strategy quickly; keep running for as long as humanly possible.  That may seem obvious, but most of my cohorts succumbed to walking up the hills during the first couple of miles, and I was not going to go along with the crowd this time around. I knew I had enough strength to run most of the way, not necessarily speed, this was not a PR course, but I kept chipping away at my own heart-rate controlled pace, and picked off “walkers” from mile five on.

There was a section of the race between mile 15 – 19 where we descended down and climbed up from Muir Beach and shared the course with the 50 milers, and 50K runners, studs that they were, what I noticed was that most, if not all of them were walking, and just looked dreadful.  On the other hand, I felt good.  Well, let me re-phrase that, my masochistic twin, “Terry”, was in full effect from mile 17 on, and I started to enjoy the grind, so I felt good, but I may have looked pretty terrible, too.

The finish line snuck up on me because one of the girls I met before the race said the race was slightly over 26.2  miles, so I was tracking my Garmin meticulously, and was shocked when the finish line coincided with just over 25 miles on  my watch, nevertheless I thundered on down the hill through the finish shoot with a broad smile, and cheerful quads to finally end the constant beating they endured for the last 4:41 hours.   

 

 

The real bonus to this endurance infused weekend in San Francisco was visiting with my sister, Sarah Fox, and cheering her on for her first marathon in Sacramento at the California International Marathon, the following Sunday.  Sarah has always been very special to me and it was a real honor to play a role in helping her train for, and ultimately crush the race.  Plus, I was able to meet her Super-Cyclist boyfriend and geek out in bike talk for a minute with him, which I rarely get to do, and then spend some quality time with my older brother Chris as we were “Spectator in Arms” along the charming streets of Sacramento rooting Speedy Sarah on to her first  marathon finish. 

 

This weekend was a challenge and success in time management, and luckily I was able to squeeze in a couple of hours between Sarah's marathon and my flight home visiting with Peter, Alexa, and my amazing niece and nephew, Kaia and Reed; the running force is strong in them, too.   

 

Off Roading - Part One: #11, Catalina

I am jumping ahead here a bit to Marathon #11, because even though I have written about #10, it is not the type of material I would like to release to world wide web just yet, so once again you’ll have wait for the book for that juice...

I do have a theme for this post, in fact it is going to be a 2 part mini-series of sorts having to do with my two dalliances with trail marathons.  The first trail marathon I ran was on St. Patrick’s Day 2007, my half birthday, and Patron Saint’s Day, which is what I will share right now, however, my next marathon is a trail marathon that I am racing in San Francisco this upcoming weekend…gulp,  so stay tuned for that adventurous round up next week.

On to marathon #11, the Catalina island marathon.  Catalina is a small island about twenty six miles off of the California coast, I grew up seeing every day from my backyard, but I never thought I would run around it one day,  I did, and that day was March 17^th, 2007.  I was newly married and living in Marion’s tiny, “Shanty Town” apartment in North Hollywood at the time, a few months away from moving into our first house, and a few months into a fantastic new job.  I somehow maintained my training while working twelve plus hour days and an hour plus commute, and thankfully felt ready to run when my alarm went off at 3AM on race morning.  Yes, you read that right, I was up at 3AM…. The reason is because I had to drive about an hour south to Marina Del Rey in order to catch a ferry to the start of the race at Twin Harbors on Catalina.  The boat was full, but I did not talk to anyone, instead I caught a few zzz’s over the water, and then stood in the pre-dawn darkness with the rest of the runners waiting to be ushered over a wide field to our make-shift starting line.  I saw many stereotypical, grizzly runners on every side of me; older bandana wearing men and a few women passionately embracing cotton, and high fiving each other like eight years olds, I felt like a true rookie, it was amazing.  When I looked up all I saw were hills in front of me, and a lone buffalo off to the edge of the field enjoying his breakfast and unique view this Saturday morning.  I was smiling from ear to ear because I knew this was going to be a true running experience that would to shred me to the bone.

When the gun went off runners starting cheering and yelling through the flat field, and all the way up our first of many, many hills.  I had no delusions of starting off speedy, I was a novice with this trail business, so I wanted to be smart and just tuck into a good rhythm with the many seasoned crazies around me.  We were all moving in a line for the most part, up and over various trails and rocks, each respecting the careful footing needed to stay upright, and move along safely through the course.  I looked at my watch around mile 4, and quickly decided not to do that again. I was moving at a painfully slow pace, but someone told me for trail races to add on an hour to my usual finish time, so considering that concession I guess I was on pace, but the numbers were far too large for my liking, so I kept my head up the rest of the day.

The course was breath taking, and just plain surreal.  I had always viewed Catalina as this far off Neverland across the ocean, and suddenly here I was running all over and around it like I was within my own sweat infused fairytale, which was pretty cool.  Nevertheless, the hills were relentless, so I followed my cohorts and walked up most of them, a sin in marathons, but in this case it seemed like part of the unspoken code, so I went along with it. 

 

The course started in Two Harbors, and wound its way through to the other side of the island to Avalon, the hip, hub of activity in Catalina.  It felt like we were truly running into civilization because after miles and miles of pure nature, we ran up a long winding fire road, crested the top, then dipped over the other side into the bustle of Avalon.  Thrilled at the sight before me, I screamed down the last hill at a scorching pace, when a seasoned gent came up behind and cheered at my performance, clearly aware of my naiveté, he was kind with his support, then he blew by me down the final turn into the finish shoot along main street.  My finish time was right on the money for the trail course prediction, 4:52, not bad, but still a longer than usual day of running for me. I enjoyed the raw connection I discovered with myself and the island that day, my body had never worked that hard just to work through a course, I was very proud of my efforts, and left Catalina that afternoon with a renewed faith of what I knew I was capable of.

To Be Continued….