Runner’s High & Tri

After fighting horrible traffic leaving Chicago, it was a relief to pull up in front of the Runner’s High & Tri store in Arlington Heights, IL. 

We were greeted by the owner, Mark, along with his lovely wife and daughter. The atmosphere was incredibly friendly and comfortable, yet the store was plenty big and very attractive. 

As you can guess by the title, this store had plenty of gear to suit your triathlon needs, essentially everything but the bike and pool. 

What was most impressionable upon me was the sense of community and commitment to excellent service. During the short time that we were in the store, they had 2 packet pick-ups going on; one for a triathlon and another for a 5k. I got the feeling that they almost always have athletes coming in their store to talk about a race or to pick up their bib before the big day. One thing is for certain, if they pick up Endurasoak they will have plenty of hard working runners and triathletes who deserve a good soak. 

The Runner's Edge

The Runner’s Edge is located on N. Clark street in Chicago. The area is absolutely great, with tons of fun shops and restaurants. I would probably head to the running store to pick up some Gu, and then spend entirely too much time window shopping around the area. 

What makes the Runner’s Edge so interesting is the selection of items you may purchase from the store. They have a whole wall of yoga gear to include mats and cute yoga outfits. 

They have a great section of swimming supplies to include pull-buoys, goggles, fins and hand paddles. You can easily pick up a new pair of cycling shorts or the latest trend in flip flops, whatever whim you fancy. 

They also had an excellent selection of recovery products, which I hope will include Endurasoak before long!

Running Company

Our second stop was at the The Running Company in Indianapolis on Broad Ripple Ave. 

The store location is great, right next to a paved bike path that runs over an old rail line and a hopping little strip of restaurants. 

The store was very modern with that shiny glean of new fixtures and sparkling white gear. I was mostly impressed with the trail shoe selection, by far the most trail shoes I’ve ever seen in the running specialty store (we’ll see what happens when we get to Colorado). 

They also had a very large selection of nutrition and hydration options with virtually every brand and product I’ve ever heard of. I spent a few minutes talking with Seth, the employee on shift. He was very friendly and his eyes lit up when I mentioned trail running. 

The Running Company is also very involved with training plans for the local runners, and they’re currently getting geared up for the fall marathon season. If anyone lives in Indianapolis and you haven’t met up with the store for a group run, you should give it a shot! It’s always a good time to run with new people from all walks of life. 

Road Trip! Day 1: Columbus Running Company

For whatever silly reason I decided to run the Leadville marathon on July 3rd. Seeing as how I love everything about Colorado, I wanted to really take advantage of my trip out there. What better way to see the West than on a road trip??!! I have to admit, there was an ulterior motive of sorts...I wanted to bring Endurasoak to as many stores as possible along the way. After a lot of coordination and logistics, my brother John and friend Nic came in to DC to start the journey out west.

We're doing short reviews of all the stores we visit, hopefully there are some bloggers out there who are local to the different areas we hit up.

1st up to bat, the Columbus Running Company

Our trip got off to a great start as we headed west out of DC. The first stop was Pickerington, Ohio to meet Jim Jurcevich, the owner of the Columbus Running Company (CRC), and check out one of their stores. When we finally made it in the store, I couldn’t help but immediately notice two bags of Endurasoak sitting on the counter. Sweet! 

Jim has a great thing going on at CRC. Enthusiastic employees and loyal customers make this store feel like a family. Everyone was joking back and forth all evening, yet I didn’t doubt that they could be very serious if anyone needed help. 

They have a huge shoe collection to fit any form with the knowledge to put people in the right shoe. I think I might just have to drive back up to go for a run with these guys, I can’t help but feel like I’m missing out. We may have even headed over to a Mexican restaurant nearby for some food and a couple of drinks... To top it off, Jim even gave me a pair of trail shoes to take with me to Colorado once he found out that I was planning on running the Leadville marathon in my Paramounts. What a day!

Jim prides himself on their extensive neutral shoe customer base. He assured me that he would not discriminate against me for my light stability shoes, but he's probably one of the few owners I've met who is really focused on keeping runners out of stability shoes if at all possible. 

If you're ever driving through Columbus, be sure to stop by. You'll feel very welcome in this friendly store. Not to mention, if you are looking for Endurasoak, you can find it here!

The North Face 50k

Because this is so long, I'll spare those who don't actually want to read this whole thing and just do a quick re-cap. It was hot as all get out, I felt great until mile 21ish, completely bonked and wanted to die, made it to the finish in 5:18, good enough for 2nd place female and 11th overall. By far the most challenging thing I've ever done in my life. 

I woke up Saturday morning more nervous than I’d been for a race in quite a long time. As I ate my peanut butter & honey bagel and got dressed, it felt like a mariachi band was playing in my stomach. I slapped a sign on my back that said “It’s My Birthday!!” and took off (it really was my birthday, I'm not just a freak). Somehow the mariachi band and I made it to the starting line with no incidents, where I met up with my running partner, Matt, and said hello to Rob, a new ultra marathoner friend. Matt and I were both antsy as we stood around with the other 200+ people waiting for the gun to go off. At 7:00 it went off and we all took off across a field before narrowing in to a slimmer bike path. Actually, I think it might’ve been for golf carts. I probably got a good 20 “Happy Birthday!”s in the first half mile as I passed people and the read the sign on my back. It was fun. Matt said I was going to get sick of it by the end….but that never happened. If anything it helped me those last few awful miles.

Matt and I are laughing and joking and trying our best to stay close to a 9:00 pace, which was proving to be incredibly difficult. The air was warm, but we were sheltered under a canopy of trees and didn’t have to suffer the brutal beating of the sun directly on our backs. We wind our way through the woods hopping over rocks and roots, climbing over fallen trees, and running through waist-high grass that had overgrown on to the narrow trail.  We come to a very small stream crossing, but it is too wide for us to jump. Crap. We slosh through it and come out the other side with completely soaking feet. I’m still very much a road marathoner in that I am pissed to have wet feet this early on in the race. I know I’m going to suffer blisters, I just hope they don’t bother me until after the race. Not even a half-mile later we come to a waterless stream crossing (yeah, figure that one out) which was now a giant pit of mud. Again, no possible way to jump over it. I see the runner in front of me sink knee-deep in the muck, and I smartly skirt around a fallen tree and hop to the other side of the riverbank. Not so smart. I slip and fall face first back in to the mud. Matt laughs at me, but after helping me get back up on my feet I smear his back with mud.  Ha. Ha.

Now my feet are ridiculously heavy. I try shaking my feet to get some mud off, but it isn’t going anywhere. We continue to wind our way through the flat wooded trail until Matt hears an “umph” and turns around to find me lying on the ground again. I don’t even know what happened. I was up…then I was down. Minor scratches on my leg, little bit of blood. Good, at least I’m credible now.

We start our first climb up a steep set of switchbacks, but neither of us felt like walking at this point. It wasn’t that steep. Unfortunately we were blocked behind 8 or so runners who were walking, and there wasn’t really room for us to go around. We finally hit the descending portion with very sharp corners, which I quickly learned took some skill to master. I missed my turn on one of the switchbacks and ended up in a tree. Thankfully it was easy to push off and get going in the right direction.

More single-track root hopping, stump jumping, and otherwise flat running until we made it to the aid station at mile 5.7. I popped some endurolyte tabs (which tasted delicious with the added flavor of mud from my hands) and drank the last sip of my water. Grabbed a Rocktane Gu, filled my bottle and took off. There were more steep switchbacks through here, though we alternated running and walking depending on how long they were. Eventually we came to my least favorite part of the course…a wide-open grassy field with zero shade. It was barely after 8, and already I could feel us cooking under the direct sun. Probably because of this particular area, I drank my water too quickly. I was starting to feel pretty hot and started pounding my handheld. I saw Kmax, another “virtual runner” friend, and exchanged words of encouragement. Matt and I were still running quite strong and trying to dial in on the 9:00 pace. I think we were hitting more in the 8:30 range, but it was hard to tell. Up and down more switchbacks, still feeling pretty good about the hill situation. I run out of water about 15 minutes before we get to the next aid station…not cool. It felt like an eternity. My Garmin had us at 13 miles when we finally saw the aid station, but the course claimed it was about mile 12. I don’t know how my watch could pick up an extra mile, but I didn’t realize this had happened until much later in the race. We come in to the aid station, which is essentially the only spectator spot on the course. There’s a nice small crowd there to cheer us on, and plenty of people shouting “Happy Birthday!!!!”  Matt and I fill up our water and take off. I have another Gu, and smear my chocolate mint wonderfulness all over myself.  I need to pee, but I decide to hold it.

Ahhh, Great Falls…the fun part. This is where the “real” hills are, with a smattering of rock hopping and climbing over boulders. We start to see the 50 milers who had started 2 hours before us and run the Great Falls loop 3 times (yeah, how fun is that?). I see the lead pack of about 4 guys pushing the pace, and Michael Wardian coming down the hill straight towards me. I shouted “Go Wardian! Great job man!”. He looked like he was pissed to be running, and in a lot of pain. Granted, the man ran Comrades last weekend and was the first American to finish. My buddy Matt (different Matt) was not far behind Wardian. Good. Matt has been smoking his races lately and has a good shot at winning. I cheer him on and he perks up when he sees me. I told him that Michael isn’t looking too good; he has a good shot at taking him. The leaders aren’t far ahead.

Eventually we start passing the 50 milers on some of the steep uphills. I felt awful for having to pass them. I’m cheering and calling out encouragement every time we pass, and they all wish me Happy Birthday. More runners starting heading towards us coming downhill as we tackle going up. I see the first 50k runner who shouts “3^rd place female!”. Huh? Well…good! I’m still feeling great at this point and naively think that I’ll have no trouble holding this pace for the rest of the day. We skirt along a very narrow ledge and I can’t help but think that if someone is coming around the ledge from the other direction, we’re all going down. Thankfully we make it out of there quickly and run in to the next aid station. My watch has this around 17, which apparently is wrong. I filled up my bottle and tried to eat a peach, but food was just gross. It was so hot, I just couldn’t do it. I took more endurolytes and was off. More “Happy Birthday” shouts from the aid station workers. I thank them for being out there for us. As Matt and I make our way back up more steep climbs, I start to lose him. He was walking and I was feeling too good to slow down. I figured he would catch me on the downhills or flats, but I only saw him once again. I was completely re-energized (not that I needed it) when I came down the last steep portion and wound my way through the rock hopping ankle-breaker area. I stared at my feet the entire time; I couldn’t afford a face plant in this area. My clothes were soaking wet, it felt like I’d jumped in a pool and came out running. Everything (including my feet) was soaked to the ground. Still have to pee. Meh. Not too bad.

After I clear out of the small technical part of the trail I find myself going back up hill again. I catch up to a group of 50 milers right as they hit the beginning of a really technical rock-hopping section. There was no possible way to run through this entire thing. They were walking a little too much though, and I ask them to please let the “slacker 50k runner” pass. They do, and then cheer me on when they read my birthday sign. I run-hop and scurry over the rocks and then make my way down and back up a nice little set of stairs. Suddenly I’m at the Great Falls aid station again (mile 21 according to Garmin), and when the crowd sees me coming they really cheer. “Birthday Girl! Way to go!”. I see a few of the runners from my local running group, they run with me for a second to see how I’m doing and find out what happened to Matt. “I don’t know! He was with me one second, then he was gone!”. I hope he’s ok…it’s too early in the race to start feeling like crap. The aid station workers tell me I’m number 3 female. I try to eat a banana, again that doesn’t work out so well. I accidentally grab mountain dew (I thought it was Gatorade) and choke when I take a big gulp. Yuck. My stomach didn’t feel great after that.

I make my way through the park and as I’m about to hop back on the single track through the woods I see the girl who was #1 female heading back towards me. I realized she got lost. I felt so bad for her, that would just kill me. I hurriedly usher her in front of me and tell her to go straight up the hill. We both walk and chat for a couple of minutes. She had a demeanor about her…you know, that “I race and I win, that’s what I do”. She was wearing a team singlet and looked like the kind of girl that was used to being on the podium. I told her the 2^nd place girl (who was now first place) couldn’t be that far ahead of us, she should be able to catch her. We caught a guy just up ahead of us, and we all ran/walked through the steep climbs. Eventually she and the guy take off on one of the downhills and I just couldn’t keep up. No worries, I’m running my own race.

Things took a turn for the worse around mile 22. I know, only 1 flipping mile after the aid station. I got overwhelmingly hot and felt super dehydrated, even though I’d steadily been drinking my water and taking endurolytes. I ran out of water in about 20 minutes, and literally felt like someone had drugged me and spit me out on the course. I don’t really know the words to describe how I felt, other than completely 100% terrible. I had to start walking on some of the flats. Run/walk, run/walk. My legs were hurting, my head was fuzzy. There was no one around me. Where the heck is the next aid station? I needed water so badly. Gatorade. I’ll even take that awful mountain dew at this point. I can’t see anyone or anything, I start to whimper. I need water. I trudge along, run/walk, run/walk. I can’t think clearly, I feel like I’d been running for hours since the last aid station. I hit more steep climbs and was so thankful for the change in stride. I stumble along through the tall grass along the river. How cruel to be so thirsty when the entire race is along a river. Mile 24 something…where the eff is the aid station? Must be at mile 25. I see a coffin. Wait, what? No, just a large tree stump on further inspection. How am I going to get to the next aid station? Run, walk, whimper, repeat. I can’t cry, I don’t have any fluids left in my body. Oh hey, I don’t have to pee anymore! I remember that I have gum in my pocket, I pop a piece and chew the refreshing berry flavor and accidentally spit it out about .10 miles later. Well that was a disappointment. For the love of God, where is that freaking aid station????  I hate my life. I hate my legs. I hate my birthday. This was the worst idea EVER. What was I thinking? I’m no ultra marathoner. I’m a spoiled roadie, with water stops every 2 miles if need be. I don’t run with wet feet and trip through thick patches of mud. Mile 26. I don’t run PAST mile 26. This is absurd. I suddenly notice a cramp in my right arm. Wtf? Oh wait a second, I've been carrying my water bottle in my right hand this entire way! I switch it to my left, my right bicep spasms and I have no feeling in my right thumb. I was gripping the heck out of that water bottle. 

I try to cry, it doesn’t come out. I let out a muted whimper that probably sounds like a dying goat. I had a goat. Cookie. She was my favorite. AID STATION!!!!!!!!! WHERE THE HECK….?????

I don’t know how I make it, but at MILE 27.9 I see the aid station. I am too exhausted to explain to them how pissed I am that they aren’t located 2 miles back. They don’t need me to explain, they know. They encourage me, point out the #2 female is just ahead of me. Like I care? Do you THINK I’m going to speed up to catch her??!!!! One of the workers informs me that the next aid station is 3.3 miles away. I look at my watch and realize I’ll be at 31 miles in 3.3 miles, so I say “Yeah, the finish!”. No. An aid station. WTF? I show him my watch, he says sorry…you’re still 5 miles from the finish. WHAT??? NO!!!!!!!! I only have 3 miles of mental stamina left! Don’t they know this??!!!

They wish me happy birthday, I’m slightly less upset now. They help me fill my bottle, I down 2 cups of legitimate Gatorade and a Gu, look longingly at the bowls of M&Ms and Gummy Bears and head off. I run around a 10:00 mile pace and take walk breaks. I realize it hurts less to run, so I push on. I pass the “singlet girl” who was walking, but I figured she’ll catch me soon enough. I still feel horrible, but some how my legs start to move again. I am getting plowed over by marathon runners who started not too long ago and are heading in the opposite direction. Most of them are very nice and move out of my way, some of them all but knocked me off the side of the trail. I was nervous running downhill on the switchbacks, I didn’t know if my legs would hold up. A guy coming uphill does not yield to me and I flail in to the brush at the last second to avoid getting pushed down the side of the hill. Jerk.

A 50-miler guy catches me and we chat for a minute. We’re walking on a steep climb when I see it….a giant flipping snake. GIANT. Like, 5’ long. I scream my head off (yes, one can still scream when completely exhausted and on the verge of collapse) and flail my arms around. It’s slithering across the path, the guy chuckles and tells me when the coast is clear. I sprint my butt off past that thing. Realistically my “sprint” was probably a break-neck 8:00 pace. I feel worked up from the snake incident for a couple of minutes, but then get back in the grind. 50-miler guy passes me and I shout encouragement. He tells me he’ll yell back if he sees anymore snakes. I tell him “don’t yell, just take care of it!”. 

I come up to next aid station, somehow feeling alive. I catch another 50k guy at the aid station and we chat as we make our way out. Only 1.7 miles to go (which is terribly disheartening when my watch already says 31 miles). He’s very tall and fit, he sets a pace and I keep up. We were running in the low 8’s and it felt good. I don’t know what came over me, but I owned my body again. He fell back and I just picked up the pace. Some volunteers radio my bib number in saying that the #2 female was on her way to the finish. I hear screaming and laughing up ahead. Finish? No. A playground. Grrrr. There it is! I see the field we have to run through. I pick it up. I hear the announcer say “Amy Lane, #2 female for the 50k! Everyone cheer her on!”. I cross the finish line and try to cry. Still no tears. Then the announcer says “And it’s her BIRTHDAY!!!!!!” There’s a ridiculous amount of cheering and commotion, random people coming up to congratulate me. I finished in 5:18, my watch said 32.7 miles. I never think a course is long, Garmin’s are always off. But this course….well, I don’t know. 1.7 miles is an awful long ways to be off.

I lay in the grass. My legs are on fire. They hurt so bad. If I stand, walk, sit, lay down, whatever I do they are in pain. I have my eyes shut because sweat dripped in my eyes from my hair and now they sting. I hear a voice behind me ask if I’m ok, if I need anything. I said that I’m fine, and I’ll take a chainsaw to chop my legs off. He says “I hear ya, how about some water instead?”. Ok…as he hands me my water I squint to look, and he’s an amputee. I just asked an amputee for a chain saw to cut off my legs. I’m groaning on the inside. I thank him for his kindness and down the water.

A little more than 10 minutes after me, singlet girl came in. I was surprised that she never caught me. She must’ve been pretty depressed after she went off trail. I congratulate her and see how she’s feeling. Pretty much as horrible as me. Throughout the afternoon I talked to a lot of finishers who have run this race before, and their times were off by anywhere from 30 minutes to 70 minutes from what they ran last year. Was it the heat? They think it was. A volunteer tells me the heat index was at 103. Ugh. That explains the coffin hallucination. I see Matt (the 50 miler, not my running partner) and he comes over to talk to me. He won! I’m so proud! He was so excited that he beat Wardian. Yeah, but he ran Comrades last weekend! Matt doesn’t care. He got a $1000 cash prize and a trip to San Fran for the Northface Championship 50 miler in December.

I track down my prize, which was an awesome Northface Gortex jacket. Super lightweight and definitely meant for running. Suh-weet! They ask me if I can wait for the ceremony (which wasn’t for another 4 hours) so Dean Karnazes could present me with my medal. I chuckle, they have no idea. I tell them I have dinner reservations and can’t wait around, though I’m deeply saddened to miss the DK awards ceremony (tehehe).

Matt (running partner) finally finished, poor guy. He was pretty beat up too. We try to figure out what went wrong. This was our first ultra, first trail race. Did we go out too fast? Were we not in good enough shape? Was it the heat? I honestly felt like I was in good enough shape. I thought for certain a sub5 would be no problem at all. I expected it to hurt, but what I felt from 22-29 was unreal. We aren’t really sure why the wheels fell off, but we were so glad to have finished and we’re ready to put this race behind us.

I’ll tell you one thing, it was one heck of a birthday.

Back of the Pack

Well, this isn’t a race report…or anything that I would normally want to blog about. I felt so compelled to share this, so here I am.

I’ve been cycling a couple of times a week to try and supplement my running with some non-impact exercise. Pretty much every time I get on the bike, my legs are already dead. I’m not a very strong cyclist, though I think I gave myself even more credit than I deserved.

Last night I went for my first group-ride with the Reston Bike Club. There were about 80 people lined up with their bikes hoping to get in a good ride. They had 5 levels, 1 being the hardest and 5 being the easiest (you know, the slow-pokes). My neighbor had been hounding me to come out and ride, but he thinks I’m some studly athlete or something. Yes, I run…but that’s about the extent of my non-dimensional “talent”.  I signed up for group 5, as they advertised their average pace to be 14-15 mph. While I typically ride a little faster than that, I didn’t want to risk being dropped. My lovely neighbor harped on me pretty bad and convinced me that I’m definitely level 4, if not level 3. I told him it was my 7^th workout in 3 days, and I really didn’t feel like I had a good ride in my legs for the night. He introduced me to a woman who rides in the 4s, and she said she would stick with me. I grudgingly switched to the 4’s, which was the stupidest decision I could possibly make.

As we all filed off, it was evident that the 4’s were the biggest group. With well over 40 people, the average speed was SUPPOSED to be 17-18mph. We took off going well over 20, and I tried my best to stay level with the back of the pack. For those who aren’t familiar with the accordion effect, I spent 2 miles being the end of a slinky continually trying to catch up with the main pack. I was going 24-25mph on the flat areas, and struggling like crazy going uphill. At last, it happened. The group made it through a light and I did not.

I was feeling completely defeated as I made my way through the intersection. I peddled around for a few minutes, feeling the tears start to well up in my eyes. I got dropped. I was alone. I had no idea where I was, and I had this ridiculous “cue sheet” that supposedly tells you the route. What the hell is a cue sheet anyways? I start to peddle back the way I came, and the heavens opened up and a shining light descended over 3 lone cyclists heading towards me. Ok, that’s not entirely accurate, but I was very happy to see them. They were group 5. The slow-pokes. The 5 hour marathoners (if you are a 5 hour marathoner, I mean no offense. You know that you’re slow).  I spun my bike around and joined their group. I explained that I got lost, and was mercilessly dropped. One of the girls said that group 4 always rides fast, typically well over 20 mph.

I spent the next 20 miles laughing, grunting, cursing up hills, and laughing some more. We had a great time. I have never been so happy or so proud to be riding with the slowest people in a group. I will be back next week, and I will proudly take my place at the back of the pack. 

Boston 2 Big Sur, but mostly just Big Sur.

It was the best of times, and really just the best of times.

I was talked in to running Boston by my wonderful group of online marathon training pals, and headed to Bean Town with the full expectations that I would not enjoy Boston, would have a miserable race, but would form lasting friendships nonetheless. Amazingly enough...I was only right about that last part. Running Boston this year was purely magical. I could go on and on about the wonderful experiences surrounding the events of the weekend, but heck…most of the people who are going to read this were there, so I’m going to stick to the 2^nd part of the story. Just know that I did by some miracle run a small PR of 3:12:51.  I headed home on Tuesday night, went swimming and biking once, and before I knew it Bryan and I were on a plane heading to California on Friday.

As we drove down Highway 1 from San Jose to Monterey, Bryan and I took a trip down memory lane. We lived in Monterey for 2 years, which is actually where we first met and fell in love (((sigh))).  Since we know the area pretty well, all of our dining options were mapped out in advance. We stopped off at my mom’s hotel to pick here up and headed to the Fishwife for a delicious seafood meal with Ron, arguably the man responsible for having signed up to run B2BS in the first place.  We had a wonderful dinner and headed off to the mall as Amy conveniently forgot all of her pants at home. Literally. I was wearing Nike athletic pants to dinner, and had nothing else to wear. I recalled Apollo lying on my pile of jeans on the bed at home, and realized I never convinced him to move off of my clothes so I could finish packing. Anywhoo…back to Big Sur.

Saturday morning Ron, Bryan and I headed to Pebble Beach to meet James for a trial run. You know, the kind of run where you see if your legs are actually still working and if indeed they can run a marathon the following day. It was surreal how picturesque it was running along the coast, laughing and joking the entire way. My legs felt surprisingly fine at our break-neck 9:15 pace. The laughter was surely a sign as to what would be a joyous event the following day.

After the run we headed to brunch with Team Reeve at our favorite spot, First Awakenings, where they serve the best pancakes you will ever eat in your entire life. If you think you’ve had the world’s best pancakes, you are wrong. Period.  Bryan and I spent the rest of the day sightseeing, hit the expo, and wandered around Fisherman’s wharf (perhaps enjoying a margarita or two). Eventually we headed down to Carmel with my mom and 2 Marine pals who are in the area for a pre-race pasta dinner. Somehow we ended up at an Italian restaurant that had no pasta, but the chef was kind enough to whip up something delicious for me anyways. From the restaurant, Bryan headed off with our friends to enjoy a night out and I headed back to the apartment to get ready for bed. I couldn’t quite fall asleep as early as I’d have liked, but some time after 10:30 I finally passed out.

Sunday…

3:30 am the alarm goes off and I’m up and off. I tried to wake up Bryan to take me to the busses, but he was in such a deep sleep the only thing that would wake him up was a super-soaker, and I don’t think our hosts own any such devices. I drove myself the hotel to meet Steve and Ron before loading the busses. Steve sees me right away and waits patiently while I get a cup of coffee and a giant bottle of water from the hotel lobby. We’re the first ones to board our bus, so we head to the very back row where they have 3 seats together. We weren’t sure whether being next to the bathroom would be a good thing or bad thing, but it turns out it was irrelevant as the bathroom was locked shut. After everyone finished downing coffee and water, we were desperate for a bathroom. We spent a while driving down to the start, but to be honest I wasn’t paying attention to the time so I don’t know how long the ride was. About 5 minutes before we get to the starting line, Ron starts getting desperate and tries to pick the bathroom lock. I’m sandwiched between him and Steve, wondering what’s going to happen when we get caught for breaking in to the bathroom. Fortunately we arrive at the starting line fairly soon, and they abandon their efforts as we file off the busses.

The starting area was a complete mad house. There weren’t nearly enough port-a-johns, and the “staging” area was entirely too small for the amount of people who were running. I saw another Marine friend of mine that I hadn’t see in years, gave him a quick hug and headed off to wait in lines. Steve, Ron, and I waited for what felt like forever for our turn in the potty, but eventually are turn did come. We then headed to the gear-check area which was also entirely too crowded. Steve and Ron travel with a ridiculous amount of gear and take about an hour to get everything set (I love them even if they’re high maintenance), but finally we checked our bags and found James right at the front of the starting line. We watched Michael Wardian do a few strides, and then found our place at the start. It was amazing how refreshing it felt standing at the start of a race that no one was stressing about, and the only thing between us and the finish was 26.2 miles of breathtaking scenery. The weather was perfect, probably in the high 40s or low 50s, and not a drop of fog or humidity.

I don’t even remember hearing the gun go off, I just remember we all started running. Our “9:09” goal pace was screwed from the get-go. We just ran. Nice, easy, long run pace. Being in God’s country kind of pace. The first mile Ron was bouncing all over the place shouting “Today’s the day!” and James was giggling in a way that only James can do. We know it’s going to hurt at some point, but for now…it’s just a beautiful day to go for a run with 4,000 or so fellow runners. We’re getting passed by runners, and I’m trying my best to let people get around me as easily as possible. I spotted Dean Karnazes up ahead, who apparently ran the 26.2 miles from the finish to the start at 2am and then turned around to run the race. Steve and I pull ahead to catch up to him, and I play photographer and attempt to get an action shot of Steve and Dean running together. Unfortunately the lighting was still too dim so my camera’s shutter speed was too slow for action shots and everyone was just a blur at this point…or maybe Steve is always just a blur on cameras when he runs by :) After the meet and greet we drop back and re-join our group of crippled runners.

At this point the pictures will really have to speak for me, as no words can capture how breathtakingly beautiful this part of the coast truly is. You don’t need to go to New Zealand to be amazed at God’s masterpiece. We were running it every step of the way.  The pictures became clearer as the lighting improved, and the mood remained light and cheerful. 

We saw 2 miniature horses on the side of the road, I was so tickled that I had to go pet them. The white one gave me big kisses :) 

Eventually realization set in when we heard the drums..this marks the bottom of Hurricane Point, which is not exactly the most pleasant of hills if you've run a marathon the weekend before. Since we took it nice and slow, it really wasn't all that terrible. I still think it gets way more hype to its name, but it's definitely memorable. 

And up Hurricane Point...James has his fist-pump thing going on here. Probably shouting "Today's the day"...which became our mantra (joking that today would be the day that we would set a huge PR). 

The miles were going by terribly slow at an 8:50 pace (compared to my 7:22 pace 6 days prior), but by mile 17 my legs were starting to feel it. All of a sudden the down hills were almost unbearable. My muscles were just giving out; gravity was both a blessing and a curse. The up hills were no easier, but at least they weren’t painful. We saw many B2BS’ers struggling with the hills, and we all took turns running up to people who looked like they were hurting and chatting them up a bit.  You could see the relief on their faces as a complete stranger took the time to strike up a conversation with them. Even something as simple and cliché as “nice view, ehh?” could evoke a smile. Also, I tried to keep track of how many times Steve stopped to take a pee break but lost count after 5. I suppose I should cut the guy a break, he was out there for an hour longer than his Boston marathon time.

Around mile 22 (maybe?) we hit the strawberry stand. 

Rows of volunteers were working diligently to remove the green leafy parts of the berries and place the fruit in bushels for runners to grab as we went by. I grabbed a handful, and then another. My stomach was growling like crazy since about mile 10. Those were the most plump and juicy strawberries I’ve ever tasted. The marathon is almost worth running for the strawberries alone. 

My legs stopped hurting, or maybe I was just so numb I didn’t notice, and I suddenly felt rejuvenated and ready to go. We kept to our pace, and all seemed in disbelief that we were indeed going to complete our 2^nd marathon in 6 days. As we approached the finish line, we clasped our hands together over our heads; Ron, James, Steve and I, along with a 2^nd Ron we picked up around mile 5(and apparently charmed with our winning personalities for the remaining 21 miles).  3:51:35 (with the exception of Ron #1, who decided to be one second slower), and loving every minute of it.

As we were greeted by the volunteers who were placing medals around our necks, I realized that I felt better than I ever have at the end of a marathon. There was no shaky-leg syndrome- you know- that feeling when you aren’t quite sure if you’re going to fall over or if perhaps the ground is moving in strange ways under your feet. I saw my mom and walked over with ease and gave her a big sweaty hug. After all, this was her 2^nd Big Sur watching me cross the finish line. I know she was thinking the same thing I was :)

After hanging out in the B2BS’ers finisher’s tent we headed back towards Monterey. James drove himself home, and my mom and Bryan had the pleasure of driving our tiny little compact rental car with Steve, Ron and I crammed in the back seat. Boy we smelled purdy! After stopping at our favorite deli for a gigantic sandwich, everyone went to their respective rooms to take an Endurasoak bath. I was in heaven in my lavender lemongrass infused mineral bath. 

Later on, we all met up at James’s beautiful home in Carmel and ate delicious Forno Bravo homemade pizza. With this kind of treatment, I think I’m going to have to go back again next year. After eating a substantial amount of pizza and drinking a couple (or few) glasses of wine, we convinced Steve and Ron to follow us to a Korean massage parlor that we found on a reconnaissance surveillance to get me a foot massage. For $30, you got an hour of pure relaxation. That was the best post-race day I think I’ve ever had. I fell asleep soon after the massage with what I’m certain was a huge grin on my face.

I wish I had the endurance for writing as I do for running, sort of lost steam at the end :P