#36: Basel Part II

A HUGE reason that I wanted to run the marathon in Basel was to share the experience with Tim as I have mentioned earlier, because he is the original Marathoner in my life, but also to create memories with my two nieces and nephew, Jenna, Kate, and Blake Kelly. I wanted to fully embrace my role as “Adventurous Aunt T,” and I figured running the marathon in their new city would solidify my street cred.

I had decided a while ago that I did not want to have children of my own, a controversial and baffling choice to many, but it is the right one for me. In fact, one of the reasons I enjoyed my time in Basel so much was that both Tim, and his Super-Hero wife Shannon, never asked me once about having kids; they asked about Hannah, who is my everything. I know my calling in life was to be her step mother, and to inspire my many nieces and nephews go after their dreams, even if their parents think they are nutty, I will always be in their corner rooting them on.

One of these reasons why I am writing this blog, and this book, is so that I can have a platform to speak from in becoming a motivational speaker. However, I had a sneak peek into my future while speaking to about 25 or so eager International School Basel students during their lunch hour the Friday before the race. Shannon had spoken about me with the school’s PE teacher, a handsome and vibrant Frenchman named, Didier, and thankfully he jumped at the chance for me to speak to the students, and even put together a fantastic flyer that had the kids pumped to hear what yours truly had to say.

I was a little nervous, he associated me with some mighty fast ladies, but I was more excited than anything, and was looking forward to sharing my experiences with running and triathlon with the next generation. The highlight of the day had to have been Blake standing in front of the group next to me giving me a fantastic introduction, I was both impressed and humbled, I didn’t know he knew that much about his Aunt T? Next, I started off talking about how long a marathon is, and what it takes to train for one, the time, nutrition, etc., but I opened the floor up to questions pretty quickly because I knew if the kids were listening me voluntarily they were into in running, I didn’t need to convince them, instead I wanted to feed their passion by sharing as much as they wanted to know. They asked such inquisitive, excellent questions, every single one of them. Eventually, they had to go back to class, but not before a few of them, mainly the tall girls who reminded me so much of myself at that age, came up and asked me individual questions, they looked at me like I was their hero; it was the coolest feeling ever. As Shannon, Kate and I walked upstairs toward the car I took in a deep sigh because now I wanted to live up to their expectations of me and run fast on Sunday.

Fortunately, Saturday was an action-packed family day which included Blake’s soccer game, a detour through France to visit a Swiss castle, a stop by the race expo, and an hour so in my Mother’s would be “heaven” the Kurbis Festival; that’s Pumpkin Festival for us English speaking folks. Sadly, I did not partake in the delicious Kurbis soup, due to my strict diet before race day, it would be another pancake dinner for me later, but Jenna and Shannon gobbled some up for all of us, and then we conquered the corn maze under the steadfast leadership of Jenna. I would follow her into battle any day.

I slept well on Saturday night, but not a whole lot. I have grown accustomed to my usual 4AM wake-up call on race days, but with the 8:30AM start time this time around, that early rising hour was not required, but I was up and at ‘em anyway. Tim and I left for the tram around 6:50ish because I told him I wanted to be at the starting line an hour before the gun went off, however, we were both a little surprised when we arrived at our stop and nary a barricade was up yet, let alone crowded runners in the street. We walked around for a little while, he showed me his favorite spot looking over the Rhine River just behind a cathedral, and found a clutch breakfast spot for him to have coffee and a chocolate croissant, while I was happy to have a warm place to sit and psyche myself up.

The runners started bustling about the starting line as Tim and I both assessed the crowd and thought I had a chance to do well, but I am always on the look-out for the Spritely swift-footed 40-50 aged runners who always seem to edge me out of the top spot, I saw a couple of contenders, so I kept my expectations at bay. Who am I kidding? I was just thrilled and thankful to be there. Once again I was fit and healthy enough to be standing on marathon starting line feeling fresh and pumped to give everything I had for 26.2 miles, err 42.2 km, for you European folks out there. This race was already my greatest achievement because I had to complete 35 By 35 in order to make it here; I did, so here I was ready to run the marathon at the top of my list.

The gun went off and I started off quickly but maintained a sensible position considering the narrow cobble-stone streets. The most annoying/hilarious few hundred yards of the race was when I was stuck behind two pace runners being slapped and punched by the balloons tied on their shirts with their pace time written on them, next time carry signs my friends. Soon I darted around my balloon smacking cohorts at the corner just beyond 2K mark, and settled into a comfortably uncomfortable pace that I felt confident in maintaining for most of the race, it was fun to be running fast again.

The most amazing part of this marathon was that Tim was rooting for me in person. It could be because I am the youngest of us four Kelly kids, or that I am just a big sap, but I have always had a heavy heart when it comes to spending time with my siblings. There is no doubt that I worshipped Tim, Peter, and Mary growing up, but when Tim went away to college I was only ten, and it was not an easy transition for me. Tim was a rock for the three of us elementary aged kiddos when we moved from Palos Verdes to Claremont after my parent’s divorce, his approval meant everything to me, and that feeling has not changed over the last thirty years. Running this marathon in Basel with Tim cheering me on meant just as much to my thirty five year old self as it did to my ten year old self, absolutely everything.

I wasn’t sure when or where I would see him on the course, but it didn’t matter, because he was all over the place! The first spot I saw him was just after the 10K mark which was perfect because he let me know I was the second woman, sweet! Just after I passed him I noticed my shoes were untied, so I had to stop and tie them, I think I only lost a few seconds, but really? Shoes untied, come on Taryn! Over the next few miles we meandered through some tree-lined old roads within Basel, there were some ups and downs in elevation that altered my pace a bit, but I felt strong and consistent throughout the first of two loops on the course, then I saw Tim again and he yelled, “How are you?”

“Okay, I’m kind of feeling it.”

“Just have fun, Tar, the leader is 200 feet in front of you!”

Well, that did the trick! The slight twinge of lactic built up in my legs went away as suddenly I felt like a real competitor. I had never been this close to the lead in any marathon, or triathlon, in fact the only time I won races was in the 100meter hurdles in high school, and those were mainly in the preliminary heats. I did lead a cross country race for the first mile during my fleet-footed Freshmen season. It was the Frosh/Soph heat at the Mt. Sac Relays, the first mile on the course is flat, then a little windy, I clocked it in 6:34min., my fastest time to date, but I fell back a few places once we hit the unforgiving switchbacks, then fell further back once I started the climb up Poop Out hill, sadly no podium finish on that day. However, the feeling of being out in front, with every other runner outside of your periphery, behind you, is a feeling an athlete never forgets.

As I rounded the next turn I saw a petite blonde woman in a triathlon kit about fifty feet ahead of me, I assumed she was the leader, my pace was faster, so I didn’t make a dramatic surge or anything, soon enough I overtook her and made the pass. We gave each other a courteous nod, but she didn’t’ try to chase me down, that was it. A few yards ahead I saw a guy on a bike riding in the middle of the street with a sign on the front, I assumed he was the 1^{st place} female escort, so I asked him, “Am I in first place?” he turned to me, looking somewhat bewildered to see another woman who was nearly double the size of the pip squeak he was riding next to for the first 21km, “Marathon?”

 “Yes.”

“Yeah.”

 That was all I needed to hear, I was leading a marathon, what??!!  

The next 21km were spectacular. There were out and back sections of the course where we ran past fellow marathoners and half marathoners and one thing I always do is cheer for the lead women in races when I see them. I believe the race is run individually, not against each other, and I revere fast runners, but today I was the fast runner they were cheering for.

Yes, my legs started to ache over the last 10k or so, but I kept a consistent pace, in fact I passed quite a few prideful Basler men who were not too keen on a woman overtaking them, but this was my day, I was a machine, this was 36^th marathon for goodness sakes, I knew what I was doing, and all I wanted to say was, “On your left, thanks.”

The last kilometer or so seemed to go on forever, but soon enough I made the final turn and ran up toward the finish. I was looking for Tim in the crowds lining both sides of the street, but I was ecstatic when I saw Shannon, Jenna, Kate, and Tim cheering for me holding the cutest sign ever just before I made the final turn toward the finish line. I didn’t think the girls would be able to make it to the race because they were in various states of illness, but Shannon rallied the troops, and I will be forever grateful that the girls were able to see their Aunt T win a marathon. This trip was about creating memories with them, and I think they will remember that one for a long time.

Just after I crossed the finish line this photo was taken, and I think it says it all.

Even though this particular quest is complete, there will be many more for me, for example writing my book, and I hope there will many more for all of you, too. It doesn’t have to be running marathons, or running at all, we are all capable of amazing things if we set a goal and challenge ourselves to go after it.

#36: Basel Marathon - Part One

Guess what? I made it to Basel after all to run in the marathon. It was not #35, but rather my “one to grow on” marathon, #36. I went through a maze of indecision to get to the starting line, but I did, and wow, did it pay off.

I decided not go to Basel when they changed the day of the race on me, originally it was slated from early September, then they moved it to 9/28, which was after my birthday, so I figured what was the point of that? I wanted to run “35 by 35”, not “35 just after I turned 35”. My mom thought it was no big deal, but I did, I had to finish the races before my birthday, so Basel suddenly did not fit in at all in the equation. Then my plans really flew off the rails when I decided on a whim while watching the Ironman World Championships on NBC that I would sign up for another Ironman, even though I had set a schedule for 2014 to be all about marathons. At the time I was frustrated with my current station in life and decided to throw in all of my chips and go for it, so I signed up for Ironman Lake Tahoe on 9/21. Unfortunately, the flip side of that selfish decision was that Basel reallywould not be able to happen at all, because I could not afford to race an Ironman, which are very expensive, and fly to Basel and run the marathon. Therefore, I decided to forgo Basel, and focus on the Ironman, and finishing 35 By 35 before my birthday, and throwing my original master plan for this life quest out the window.

Cut to early May when after enduring months of grueling training and soul-searching I decided to truly take advantage of this moment in my life to test myself and vowed to race both Ironman Lake Tahoe and the Basel marathon. My plan was to race IMLT on Sunday 9/21, rest for a couple of days, then fly to Switzerland and race the Basel marathon on Sunday, 9/28, this ridiculous new proposition would take “going out with a bang” to a whole new level.

Along the way I had started to look for work, then stopped to solely focus on my BIG races of the Summer and the Ironman in September, when an opportunity came my way that I did not have the heart to say ‘no’ to. Hannah’s Varsity volleyball coach asked me to be the Program Coordinator for the Alemany Girls Volleyball, which was awesome, but I had an inkling it would be a pretty demanding position, and my training may suffer, but I said ‘yes’, because I wanted to help as much as possible, and I wanted to be involved for Hannah’s sake. Honestly, I don’t think she really cared either way, but I took on the voluntary position, which added some heft to my already ambitious load.

Miraculously, I was able to achieve all of the training for my races in May, June, and July, but as I mentioned in my #35 post, the San Francisco marathon humbled me, my body was finally yelping for some rest, when what I needed to do in my schedule was focus on six very intense weeks of Ironman training, which included an overwhelming emphasis on cycling due the challenge of racing in Lake Tahoe. 

On top of that, this Volleyball gig was shaping up to look more and more like a “real” job every day, mainly because I needed to be available at all times of the day for questions from parents, and tasks from the coach, and even though I am confident training for 4-6 hours per day would have been possible, it may have burdened the success of the program, and the happiness of the players and parents. So in early August I made the most excruciating decision I have in years, almost as bad as when I decided not to play basketball my Senior year of high school, I decided not to race Ironman Lake Tahoe.

Luckily, I was able to get back my money from the rental house in time, but was out $700+ from the registration fee because the WTC has a laughable, if any, refund policy. Marion kept assuring me not to worry about it, I did have some cash from selling one of my bikes in July, which eased my conscience slightly, but I knew in my gut that pulling out was the right move. Next, I stopped my Ironman training, switched to recovery, and mainly running, because no matter what I was going to run the Basel marathon on 9/28.

Let’s fast forward to the morning of September 21^st when I begrudgingly hopped online to Ironman.com to see what was happening at Ironman Lake Tahoe, “What the???” The race was canceled due to the heavy smoke from the King’s wildfire that had been surrounding the area. I felt terrible for all of the athletes who were at the starting line and had their hopes dashed minutes before the gun went off, on the other hand, and I feel awful admitting this, but I was relieved that I was actually not missing the race at all, that’s horrible, I know, but I am human. There have been many opinions bouncing around about how the WTC handled the call, but I have faith it was the right move, safety first my friends. 

Personally, I was thrilled to have that deadening weight of bailing on IMLT lifted from my shoulders, and I was now able to fully enjoy my last few days before flying to Switzerland and simply look forward to running the marathon with fresh legs, an open mind, and Grinch-like bursting heart. This was it.

#34 - Mountains 2 Beach Marathon - Fastest Race of My Life

I have always had such respect and admiration for elite runners who are able to consistently run 90+ mile weeks with their training leading up to races. I have typically kept my weekly averages in the mid 50 mile range because I need to fit in time to swim and ride my bike, and those activities eat up a lot of precious daylight. However, after I finished my “March Madness” month of two marathons, I decided that I wanted to put the bike and swim training on the back burner, and amp up my run training in preparation for my “A” race of the year, the Mountains to the Beach Marathon on May 25^th, in Ventura, CA. This race was high on my priority list because I knew it would be fast, it is literally all downhill starting from Ojai and ending 26.2 miles down the road in Ventura. I know what you're thinking, and yes, that Ojai which was Iris McKay’s favorite place on earth, and would always try to drag Dylan off to in the high school years of BH 90210; Iris was right, Ojai is lovely. I knew I could train specifically for this race, whereas my 35th marathon would be jumbled up in the midst of other endurance events, but this race had my undivided attention. I was excited to test myself with the kind of training I had always wanted to try, but was too scared to attempt, now was my chance.

My friend and Coach Hadara was on board with my challenge and laid out some spectacular work outs for me over the six week ramp up to the race after my Griffith Park finish. I did add on a few miles here and there to reach the weekly numbers I wanted, which she was okay with, but I pretty much stuck to the plan: week one start with 60 miles, then increase every week until I tapped out at 90 miles per week. For the last eighteen months or so I had been faithful to the 16 mile long run, no more, no less, a trick I pulled out he Hanson’s Running Project, but this time around I needed to  add a few more miles to my long run, 17, 18, 19, and 20 here I come! 

The key to my big jump in mileage was having at least two work outs per day, a longer one in the morning, and a recovery jaunt in the afternoon/early evening. In my experience this is a somewhat civilized way to crush yourself, long/hard running in the morning, short/mellow running in the afternoon, I have tried the opposite, short then long, and it is just a brutal way to live your life. That said, what is the secret magic trick of it all? That’s simple, eating proper and plenty of nutrition before, during, and after runs. On a daily basis I eat countless bananas, always prepare a BIG smoothie in between work outs, and concoct a salad the size of most bath tubs loaded with every vegetable and nut variety in the house for dinner, yum.

I could go into how each day felt, each run in fact, but I will sum up by saying that when I reached my weekly mileage goals I felt like I just aced a Final exam. I needed to be calculated, consistent, and resilient day after exhausting day. This kind of training was both numbing and exhilarating, I was excited and nervous every day when I woke up and assessed my day ahead, I treated it like a job, which has kind of been the case for my Ironman training for years, but this race prep was about me living an “out of reach” lifestyle that I never dreamed I could handle. I don’t think I ever cried, but I nearly passed out on more than a few occasions, still I reached my 90 mile weekly goal at the end of it all, and knew that I was more prepared for this marathon than any other, #34 was going to be legendary.

I drove up to Ventura the night before the race because I had to catch a very early bus on race morning  up to Ojai. Honestly, I also felt like I earned a treat after putting forth the most brutal training block to date, so out my door and off I went 75 minutes up the coast to sleepy, yummy Ventura; a town I instantly fell in love with, and would love to lay stakes in as soon as my book sells millions, and I can spring Marion from work. Maybe not tomorrow, but some day…

On my jaunt to the bus stop, I met a few fellow runners from Chicago, they laid out some quick previous marathon times during our pre-dawn chit-chat session, so I knew this race would live up to the hype as a near "gimme" Boston qualifier. I was excited about the heavy downhill, even with my disastrous past with heavy downhill marathons, remember Tucson? Nevertheless, I felt good about this one, I had confidence that my thunderous “cycling” quads could handle the constant pounding of my 150lb. bod against the pavement for over three hours, it might get ugly, but she was up for it.

The race start was a bit odd because there were Port-O-Potty’s lined up along the streets for blocks, but the lines moved at glacial pace, so I decided comfort was more important than starting position, and bestowed all my faith in my timing chip. Once I started I was motivated to bounce and dart my way through the very speedy field, because once we hit the bike path a bottle neck was unavoidable, so this big girl ran as fast as she could to find the perfect pace mates once the course got real.

An odd feeling washed over me at about the 10 mile mark, it was as if my mind was not quite in rhythm with my legs, and I started to feel light-headed, and unknowingly slowed my pace. I knew I needed fuel so I popped a Clif Block, told my legs to keep going, this fast pace is exactly what we had been training for, now was the time to go for it, sub 3:20 baby!!!

Further down the hill I tasted salt in the air and knew the ocean was close, but I still had the last annoying 7 miles to slog through before I would be done for the day. Suddenly, my GPS lost its connection to the satellite, mile 17 lasted WAAAY too long, which meant I was on my own for pacing… hmm, it’s a good thing this was not my first rodeo, it was time to dust off my “perceived effort” skills and take it home to the finish.

The last 2 miles were brutal, I felt like a slug, but then I saw the finish line banner about 600 meters down the beach, and I decided to switch on my “Vista” speed and obliterate myself in an effort to creep under 3:20hrs. 

I picked off a few runners in the chute, one girl seemed a little annoyed, but I’m sure she learned a lesson that day, give the finish EVERYTHING you have, and don’t be afraid to shatter your competitors dreams, it’s a race. Once I crossed the line I looked at my watch, 3:20:26, so close…. I stumbled around my super-fast comrades cloying for water bottles then plopped down on the grass and smiled, I PR’d, the hard work paid off, and I only had one more marathon before this quest would be over. 

#33 - Running Above LA, The Griffith Park Trail Marathon

I know it may seem that I live a privileged, adventurous, jet-setting life of a running enthusiast without a care in the world, but that is not the case at all, what I do have is a very supportive husband, stubborn ambition, and dollar-stretching creativity, but not a bottomless budget. In fact, the life of a visual effects driven family is anything but safe, and secure. Marion works as a freelancer, a very in demand freelancer thankfully, but jobs go for months at a time, not years, and in early March of this year we needed to re-think a few things, and my racing schedule needed an overhaul. Unfortunately, that meant I would not be running the Whidbey Island marathon in Washington in mid-April, which was a bummer because I was looking  forward to visiting with my step brother Jeff, and his adorable gaggle of little girls; another time for sure. Instead what I needed to find was a race within driving distance, verses flying distance. Thankfully, I did not need to search for long until I found the perfect “hometown” race that would offer up a whole new kind of challenge, racing two marathons within three weeks. Oh, and one more thing, this one was a trail marathon, yee-haw! Marathon #33 would be the Griffith Park Trail Marathon on Saturday, March 29^th.

I was not nervous about the trail aspect of this race because I had already conquered the North Face trail marathon in the Marin Headlands back in December, and that course was an annihilator of the soul, so if I could survive that race, I had faith I could survive any other trail race for the rest of my running days. However, I needed to consider that my legs would not be fully recovered from the LA marathon, running a trail marathon so close was not wise, but I wanted to do it, it fit the bill, literally, and once again I was excited to run around and above my gorgeous Los Angeles. Also, I had an ace up my sleeve, my best friend Hadara was my coach, and I knew if I placed my care in her hands she would get me to another starting line refreshed and ready to rock.

When race morning came along I was excited, and relieved not to have to worry about a specific time to hit, because trail runs generally take much longer than a road race, this race I could relax and just let myself enjoy the day and see where I shook out. The starting line was buzzing in the dark pre-dawn hours with a breed of runner that is more jovial then most, and little nuttier too, the Ultra runner. This was not an Ultra marathon, actually the course did go a little over 26.2 miles, still this was advertised as a marathon, but that did not stop the Ultra runners from coming out and mingling among us mortals, I felt like an amateur, and eavesdropped on stories that made me weep with admiration, and took it as a sign that this was going to be a brilliant day.

The first seven miles were tough, lots of up, up, down, and down even steeper around twisty bends of loose sandy dirt native to the chaparral landscape within Griffith Park. I was keeping a decent pace even though I didn’t pay attention to my watch, I felt good, and was hanging with a few shaggy lookin’ yet swift-footed dudes, so I knew I was doing alright. We hit a long ten mile stretch of virtual flat land as we wound our way around the park, and the Los Angeles Zoo, which was fine, but I wish I would have researched the course better, I would have picked up my pace along that stretch.

Luckily, my intuition was correct about needing to conserve energy because the last seven miles of the course tossed us into the hills again, and wow, that was a treat. It was much more up, up, and up, then down. I think mile eighteen was the first time in my running life when I felt truly pressed against the mat, being suffocated and taunted by nature to tap out, give up, and walk. I was on a sheer single track rocky tail on the back Siberia-esque section of the park, I knew other runners were around me, somewhere, but I felt alone, and needed to punch this course in the mouth, so I just cranked slowly up the hill, crested the top, opened up my stride and giggled on my way down the other side, silly trails.

I was spit back into civilization abruptly around mile twenty-one when I took a right turn down a fire road and was among other runners, day hikers, and horses. Sweet. This was a very exposed part of the course, and the day was heating up, I had my Camelback on, so I was okay water wise, but I knew I needed to finish soon and take a nice long swig of electrolyte infused sports drink, my focus shifted from “running on trails is so fun, and pretty”, to “get to the finish line, asap.”

The next five miles or so were a mix of cheers with fellow runners, and dodging big and small dogs off leash, and annoyed families being dragged out to nature to spend time together instead of mind-numbing hours on the couch, ah Los Angeles. I felt inspired and annoyed by my fellow Angeleno’s zest for the outdoors, there were no barriers keeping the crowds from the course like there were on Hollywood Blvd. just a few weeks before, today I needed to “share the trail”, so I leapt and darted around everyone as safely as possible and ran down the hill to the finish as fast I could.  

I was all alone for the last mile or so into the finish shoot, there were slight cheers, and enthusiasm from the crowd as I crossed the line, but it was by far the most low-key finish line I had ever run across, but I appreciated its understated integrity. Also, it was cool that the race director came up to me and thanked me for bringing my Camelback, suddenly I felt like I was part of the Trail Runners gang, and not just a spoiled road runner whining about the flavor of the free Gatorade handed out at the aid stations, but a real runner ready for anything the trails and that saucy minx Mother Nature threw at me, plus I earned a belt buckle.

I felt like I matured a lot during that race because I planned around a “life” hiccup and still finished marathon #33 on schedule, in fact ahead of schedule. I placed 7^th overall female, and 2^nd in my age group in 4:31 hours, not too shabby considering I ran a marathon less than a month earlier. Plus, I fell in love with trails that day, even though I am not built for them, I knew trail races would play a big role in my running future; they are a fun and challenging romp among friends and inner demons, my favorite kind of race.

#32 - Los Angeles Marathon, Again...

There is something special about walking among thousands of like-minded people before dawn at one of the most iconic locations in the country that gets me really excited, and makes me feel completely at ease. This was how I felt on the morning of March 9^th, 2014 at Dodger Stadium milling around the starting line of my 32^nd marathon, the LA Marathon. This would be the second time I raced LA, the first time was only my second marathon ever back in 2003, and I had never really wanted to run it again because the course was abysmal at best, but about four or five years ago they changed the course to be a point to point, starting at Dodger Stadium high above downtown, and finishing right above the beach in Santa Monica. We would now be running through Hollywood, West Hollywood, Beverly Hills, and Westwood all the way to the finish, it was a true tour of LA, a work of staggering genius, and since I had spent years driving over every single inch of it, now it was time for me to run over all of it.

I lucked out because I was seeded in the B corral which was near the starting line, just behind the super-fast elite runners, which meant I did not have to battle thousands of runners to find my place and pace early, like I did during my first go-around in ’03, this time I was running quickly and freely right from the gun, yee-haw! 

It is a fact that you may never meet another human being more in love with her home town than I am of Los Angeles. I love the people, we are not all snobs and jerks, the traffic is constant, but the side streets are plentiful, and a little creativity and patience pay off huge when driving around town. I have lived in Venice, West Hollywood, Playa Del Rey, North Hollywood, and now Granada Hills, plus I grew up in outlying Claremont to the east, and Palos Verdes to the south, so I know my way around my beloved city, and I am the first to show outsiders how amazing she really is, just ask for a tour, I will make the time. In fact, one of the silliest jobs I ever had was as a driver for a visiting music executive from New York, she didn’t want to deal with driving herself around LA traffic, but couldn’t afford a limo  driver, so this red head in a Civic fit the bill just fine. Obviously, this was BU, Before Uber.

I was especially excited for this race because since it was as local as a race would ever be, Marion would be able to cheer me on at the halfway point, just past mile 13 on the Sunset strip, and he would be there at the finish line to drive me home, yay. I hope we will be able to run this race together one of these years, I think he has it in him for sure.

The sky was absolutely stunning just before the start; all 20,000+ of us runners were in for a glorious day. The first five or so miles flew by in a flash, we thundered downhill from Dodger’s Stadium down through China town, and around downtown up a sheer steep hill right next to the Disney Performing Arts Center, which I was slightly prepared for, but it was tough. Then we trucked over a couple of freeway passes and ran up and down some rolling hills into Los Feliz and Silverlake where hipsters spilled out from the cafes drinking their espresso’s and looking befuddled at the great stampede swarming their beloved Los Feliz boulevard. I can honestly say that I was happier to be running a marathon than sitting outside on a patio wishing I was out there stomping my feet.

I felt wonderful, it was around mile 10 or so, I was not cooking my legs too much, we were starting to run along Hollywood Blvd when my heart felt a flutter, oh, how I love this street. I have been in love with movies and movie-making since I was ten years old, and I have had a laser focus on becoming a producer ever since, so I have always felt butterflies in my belly when I am on Hollywood Boulevard. However, this Sunday was even cooler than most, because the Oscars were just a week before, and we ran right by Dolby Theatre, Jordan Catalano’s tresses were just a week out of my reach. 

Unfortunately, right after mile 12ish, as we ran down to Sunset, I started to feel a little off. Nothing crazy, just slower, and slightly off my pace. Then, I saw Marion jumping around in his Chargers jersey just past Crescent Heights on the north side of Sunset and my heart and legs sprang back to life. He was taking photos, and yelling and screaming my name, it was wonderful, and exactly what I needed.

The next four or five miles took us down through Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills, I felt so fancy, then on out toward the Westside along Wilshire Blvd. This was a neat part of the course because for at least 100-200 yards we were flanked on both sides by cheerleading squads from local high schools. I was feeling pretty good, those girls definitely boosted my spirits, but the day was heating up pretty quickly. The water stations were plentiful and consistent along the course, except when we entered the VA property around mile 20 in Westwood. This was a long, exposed stretch of the course with an annoying hill thrown in for good measure to really test our grit, which I respect, but was not too fond of at that point in the day. I was suddenly the most popular girls around because I gave a few of my salt tabs to a once speedy guy who stopped dead in his tracks in exhaustion right in front of me just before that nasty hill, he said “thank you,” but his searing, sweaty eyes said "you just saved my life, girl."

Once we excited the VA, literally just inches off of their property was a water station staffed with energetic volunteers anxious to cool us off and cheer us on to the finish, Hallelujah! The last 4-5 miles was along the famously filmed San Vicente Blvd. It was a little up and down most of the way, but I was able to open my stride with a mile to go and just rejoice that this race almost over, I ran it much faster than I expected to, 3:25, and really had a blast the whole day, yet another great bonding experience with my lovely Los Angeles.

Okay, this is nuts, a few weeks after the race I received an email that since I placed in the top twenty of my age group I would receive a free Nutri-Bullet Sport blender. What? The What?! This is one of the perks about running in a HUGE, big money sponsored event, which is a rarity for me, but I was thrilled at the prize nonetheless. I will definitely run the LA marathon again, and strongly recommend it to every runner out there, it is an honest course, gives a true tour of the many cultures that make up Los Angeles, and finishes at the beach, what more could we ask for?

#31 - Honkers marathon - It's All Coming Together...

 I chose the Honkers marathon in Anaheim California as marathon #31 because its timing slipped in nicely with my aggressive schedule, it was small, only about 100 people ran it the first year, and the race director had just finished her quest to run 50 marathons by the time she turned 50, so obviously I felt we were kindred spirits. The name Honkers comes from the Canada geese, aka., “Honkers”, that set up home along the Santa Ana River Trail during the winter. 

The race took place on Sunday January 12^th, 2014, and I had a slightly ramped up challenge that day because it was Hannah’s first club volleyball tournament of the season, and I really wanted to watch a least one of her matches, so it would have to be a quick clean up after the race and fast drive east to Ontario to watch her bump and set her way to greatness.

I left our house at 4:30A in order to make the 6:00A registration, and 7:00 start time; the freeways were clear at such an early hour, a fleeting and cherished feeling as a SoCal native. I met the race Director a few minutes before the start, she was standing with her two “twenty something” children, she was excited that I chose Honkers to be one of my 35 marathons, and wished me luck as we all made our way up to the starting line.

I was hyped up for too many reasons to mention, but on the top of my list was that this would be my first marathon wearing my Smash Fast n’ Loud triathlon top hot off the rack of my old coach and constant hero, Hillary Biscay’s fashion line. I knew I looked amazing, and hoped that added confidence would give me an edge over my not so dazzling dressed competition; I am sure these girls were fast, but I won “best dressed” hands down. 

The marathoners were mixed in with the half marathoners so I was not sure who my exact competition really was, but I blasted off of the line quicker than usual, and it felt wonderful. My last race was the trail marathon in San Francisco, which was epic, but not fast at all, so this was a real treat to be able to open my stride up and rip it from the start.

I held my pace steady at 7:15minute miles until mile 10ish, and then I started to slow down a bit. The upside was that my energy was up, I had finally figured out a solid fueling plan, after 30 marathons I cracked the code, but I could only hang on to that pace for so long, not even a million Clif Blocks could keep the needle hanging over the red line much longer. At this point I was in 2nd place I believe, but I was a little annoyed when a super-gangly white as porcelain skinned lady running like Rachel in that classic Friends episode zoomed past me wearing shoes the size and shape of cinder blocks and arms and legs flailing all around her like a helicopter. Oh well, I thought, you go girl!

The course wound its way up the bike path for miles, I would like to say there were plenty of water stops, but there were few, and they were VERY far between. I zoned out a bit listening to the buzzing traffic coming from the 5 freeway just off the course, then snapped back into reality around mile 18 when it hit me, I am going to finish in the top 3 today. I was smiling when I passed volunteers, and clapped in awe and sincere respect when the leader passed me at the mile 21 turn around, girlfriend was petite, toned, and at least a decade older than me, and she was movin’!

I passed a couple guys on the last stretch of the bike path mainly because I had more experience than they did, chances are homeboy in the green Umbro shorts had not run half a dozen marathons in the last 6 months, but guess who did? That is what this race was for me, recognition that all of the lessons I had learned from my first 30 marathons were paying off in my 31^st.  I ate one Cliff Block every 4 miles starting at mile 5, and then ate a gel at mile 21, and felt strong the whole day. I chased down who I could chase down because I was patient, and knew even from a distance that my pace was faster, and I would catch up and pass them before the finish line.

I felt cool and calculated the whole morning, but leapt out of my sleek façade when I rounded the last corner and finished in 3:23, a very respectable time considering the wear and tear of my legs at that point in my schedule. I placed 3^rd overall female, and was congratulated by the race director quickly after I crossed the line. She asked me for feedback, I told her more water stations were needed along the bike path, there was no need to sugar coat it, if I thought it was dry out there, I am sure most of the other runners did, too.

I am not sure if I will ever run the Honkers marathon again, but I am very glad I did. In case you were wondering, I did make it to Hannah’s volleyball tournament, I am sure I was not the sweetest smelling spectator in the stands, but I was there, and thrilled to see her set off the season.