Race Recap: O.C. Marathon

As I mentioned in the blog last week, Sunday, May 7th was the annual running of the O.C. Marathon event, and I did the full 26.2 mile distance.  Let us commence our tale!


To start out with, although I was working through the knee issue I mentioned in last week’s blog, overall, I felt pretty good about my readiness for the race.  I’ve been working toward qualifying for the Boston Marathon for the past few years, and my tempo and long runs had all been on a pace that would help get me there; the marathon qualifying time for my age group at Boston is 3:40, and that would mean an 8:23 overall per mile pace.  I’d been working to be just a bit faster than that, and I was planning to attempt to run 8:20 miles overall, thinking that if I planned to be faster than my 8:23 time, I should be able to account for any issues that might crop up over the course of the race.
The day before the race, Chris and I headed to the OC Fairgrounds and Convention Center, the finish line for the race, to pick up my race packet and check out the area.  The center is a permanent set of buildings that houses the OC Fair each summer, but it also holds events like the weekly swap meet, expos of all sorts, and concerts; it’s a really cool facility, and it let everyone move in and out in a pretty orderly manner. 


Me at the finish line.
While the half and full marathons were on Sunday,

there was a kid’s run and 5K on Saturday.

Hence, everything was already set up.



Got my number!

After the expo, we headed home to rest and eat lunch, and then it was time to get out again, to go see Guardians of the Galaxy, Volume 2 (review: not as good as the original, still pretty entertaining.  I heart Baby Groot).  After the movie, it was back home to make my traditional pre-race dinner of chicken pasta (shocking, I know) and head to bed early, as we’d be up before the crack of dawn on Sunday.

While full marathons normally start before the sun rises, the O.C.’s start time was early even for this crowd – 5:30am!  That meant we were up at 3:00am at our house, getting ready and heading out the door by 4:00am.  The nice thing about running the marathon distance at really big events is that you get the huge race experience – the bands, the big expo, the tons of volunteers, well stocked aid stations, and the like – but since you get there while the tens of thousands (yes, really) of half marathoners are still putting their shoes on at home, you miss most of the start line crowds.

Once we parked at the start line (the Fashion Island Mall in Newport Beach), I did a quick warm up, hit the loos a few times, and headed toward the official race banners.



Thumbs up for a good run!

Due to the smaller size of the marathon field, we only had five corrals total (I’m sure the half had at least twice that), and given my expected (hoped for) finish time of 3:40, I was in the very first corral.


First time this has ever happened!

I’d been obsessively checking the weather for the past few weeks, and rain was expected for the beach areas on both Saturday and Sunday.  30 minutes up the coast at our house, we’d been awakened at 1:30am by drenching rain lashing the windows, and we were under a gale warning for a few hours.  When we headed to bed on Saturday night, the forecast for Newport Beach on Sunday morning was light rail lasting until 5am or so, and then overcast skies for the rest of the morning, with rain chances to be about 20% while my run would be going on.  Truly, this would be perfect running weather.

Well, the weather folks got this one wrong, unfortunately.

As we lined up to hear the national anthem a few minutes before the gun, it started to lightly rain, which wasn’t a big deal.  As the gun rang out and running started, however, the rain intensified, and it really started to come down. 


The start line


Hi hon!

By mile 2, we were drenched, and the rain didn’t even start to abate for another 20-30 minutes.  It rained on us as we made our way down the Pacific Coast Highway (the PCH), through some really cute little neighborhoods in Corona Del Mar and the downtown area there.  It rained on us as we ran along the coast, overlooking the Pacific Ocean, and the streets were starting to fill up, as the water made its way from houses on the bluffs above us down to the sea.  The best part of the rain is that since we were right on the coast, you would hit a less intense patch, but you could hear the distinct pounding of the heavier rain up ahead of you; it made you dread the soaking you knew you were about to endure even more.

Very quickly, we were all wet to the bone and shivering, and I’m sure I wasn’t alone in going out too hard to compensate for the chilly temperatures, made worse by the wet and wind.  In looking at my watch at mile 2, I saw that I was running an 8:06 pace, which is 100%, completely unattainable for me at this distance.  I knew I needed to slow down, and in a happy accident, my left shoe decided to come untied at this moment.  I stopped to fix this, and I set off again, at a much more reasonable pace this time.

The first half of this run had really lovely scenery, and if it hadn’t been raining so hard, we would have been able to enjoy it a bit more.  However, even given the crappy weather, it was awesome to look out over the Pacific Ocean and the insane homes on the coast. 


Said insane houses.
There were some really adorable ones, too:



See?

Obviously, I didn’t take these photos,
as the sun is shining here.


Around mile 6, we got back up on the PCH itself, and then ran underneath it using a pedestrian underpass, under which some guitarists had set up to play us some tunes out of the weather.  We headed up some neighborhood streets and into Castaways Park, the weather perfectly setting the mood to remind us of folks who’d been washed up on these shores in the past.


Like this,
but wetter and with runners.

After running through the park, we headed back onto the streets, where I was able to see Chris around mile 8ish. 


These guys are MOVING.
I think one of these guys
was the eventual winner of the race.


Taking pictures to alleviate the boredom
that comes from spectating endurance events.
It’s pretty common.


Hi, hon!

At this point, I was still hanging in there.  Due to a few hills in the area (the course was a net downhill overall, but it had some decent rollers), my pace had slowed to 8:20, but that’s where I wanted to be, so I settled in to just focus on logging more miles and hopefully finishing strong.  We continued our route north further into Newport Beach, following along the coastline of the Upper Newport Ecological Reserve.  Here, around mile 11ish, we hit a decent hill, but what I really remember from this part of the course (other than the soggy views – they were pretty outstanding) were the zillions of snails who were intent on crossing the street, due to the wet weather.  I’m not over exaggerating when I say that in one mile, I must have seen thousands of these little dudes, trying valiantly to get to the other side of the road, carrying their homes along with them, attempting to avoid getting squashed by runners.  A guy next to me at this time went, “LOOK!” in amazement, and it was really pretty crazy to behold.  Although others didn’t seem to care as much, I detoured around most of the snails, and I’m pretty sure I avoided killing anyone (I'll take all the good karma I can get).

After the hill, we continued into Santa Ana, and we looked to our right to see John Wayne Airport; sadly, it was a bit too early (John Wayne has some serious noise restrictions) for planes to be taking off and landing, as they would have been coming right down across our path.  That would have been cool.  It was around this point that the wheels really started to come off, and things went south for me.  I crossed the timing mat for the halfway point of the race at 1:51 or so, which could still mean a 3:40 finish for the full marathon, if I was able to handle a negative split in the second half of the run.  However, my knee, which had been giving me warning twinges starting around mile 4-5, really started to make its presence known, and my GI system decided to jump into the fray as well, sending me scrambling for a port o loo.  Good times.

Chris, who had been tracking my progress through the handy RTRT.me app provided by the race (a really effective app, seriously good stuff) saw me hit halfway and sent a text to my phone, which is connected through Bluetooth to my Suunto race watch (the phone rides with me in my hydration pack).  I truly appreciated his encouraging “Halfway!” message, which I received while I was enjoying all sorts of exciting times in the loo.

Around mile 14, we hit the biggest hill on the course, a freeway overpass, and my knee demanded that I walk it.  I was wearing my Elephant Mountain 50K tech shirt for race day, and as I hiked skyward, a fellow runner stopped to say hi, asking if I lived in Arizona.  I mentioned that we’d just moved out here about a year ago, and he said he was from Queen Creek (he was wearing a Tribe Multisport singlet); we talked about how much we loved Aravaipa Running races, and he said he’d recently done the Dam Good Run, which was my last race in the area before leaving AZ.  I said how Lake Pleasant was only 20 minutes from our house in Peoria, and we chatted a bit longer before he headed on.

I knew that my Boston qualifying hopes were gone for the day, but I was still within reach of my perpetual secondary goal, which is to set a new Personal Record; to do this, I’d have to stay faster than an average 9:00 mile, as my current marathon PR is just under 4:00 (set at the Long Beach race in October 2016).  Eventually, with the knee and GI issues, that goal went away too as did my goal of finishing under 4:00 at all.  It was at this point, around mile 16, sitting in yet another loo (where, I’d like to point out that my clothes – all the way down to the runderoos – were still sopping wet from all the rain), that I decided to refocus on the one goal remaining to me, which was just to finish this goddam thing. 

See, yes my knee was hurting, and yes, I would see Chris in another mile or so, and I could bow out at this point and take the DNF (Did Not Finish).  I’ve done this before in a few races (due to injury, mainly), and while it makes you feel super rotten, sometimes, it’s the smarter way to go.  However, waiting for me at the end of this race was not only the race medal for this marathon, but also two others : 1) The Double Dog Dare medal for running a half/full marathon combo between Surf City back in February and the O.C. and 2) the Beach Cities Challenge medal, earned by completing either the half or full at all three associated events (Long Beach, Surf City, and the O.C.) in one consecutive swoop.  While I knew I’d run Long Beach and Surf City again, the second half of the O.C. Marathon was not one I’d want to repeat (lots of shopping malls and industrial areas and freeway overpasses and neighborhoods – friendly people, but the scenery was meh), so I was going to finish this freaking thing to earn my hardware (also, telling people you toughed your way through a full marathon is WAY more impressive than saying that you bowed out at mile 17 due to knee issues.  It’s not as smart, to be sure, but it’s way more badass).

When I met Chris around mile 17 (in the parking lot of yet another mall – seriously, O.C., you guys have miles of gorgeous coastline and nature preserves – why run through so many freaking malls?), he grabbed a few shots, and he knew I wasn’t having the best day ever.  He wished me good luck finishing and headed out to the finish line.


The face of happiness, am I right?

Around here, the sun started to finally make its presence known, and the rain eventually stopped completely (although not raining steadily, it had still been drizzling a bit here and there.  For the past 17 miles.  I mentioned that, right?).  I made the conscious decision that since I would be hanging out on this course for at least another hour and a half or so, I was going to have a good time, gosh darn it.  When I started my running career back in 2004, I came across a runner/writer by the name of John Bingham, who called himself The Penguin, after the waddling stance with which he first started running.  I heard him speak at the expo for the first PF Changs Rock and Roll Half Marathon I did, and since then, I’ve always remembered one comment he made: If you need to slow down, don’t worry – the people behind you are always having more fun than you are.   I’ve found this to be true on more than one occasion, and if you can get yourself in this mindset, you can finish your race with a smile, even if the day didn’t go just the way you planned.

Since the rain was now over, the course filled out with spectators, even in the more industrial zones.  Given my knee and the sides cramps I now had from the GI stuff, I’d jog until I couldn’t anymore, then I’d walk, picking a spot in the distance where I’d attempt to start jogging again.  Once I started jogging, I’d set what are often called “micro goals.”  I’d run to that tree up there, and then once I reached that tree, I’d run to that light pole a bit further, and so on.  Keeping these up helped me to focus on short-term gains that kept me moving in the right direction.  One thing I learned in doing this is that when you’re walking and you start your jog again right in front of a group of spectators, they often LOSE THEIR F*CKING SH*T.  I had no idea this was a thing.  I had this happen a few times, and on each occurrence, the people I’d start jogging in front of would jump up and down, screaming and clapping for me, yelling at the top of their lungs; I should point out that these weren’t the volunteers for the race (who were all super, by the way – those poor folks stood in the same soaking, freezing rain we ran through and handed out gu’s and water and Gatorade with smiling faces FOR FREE – they were amazing) – these were just random folks on the side of the road, coming out of their houses while drinking coffee to see the nutcases running 26.2 miles down their neighborhood streets. 

Since the final 5 miles or so of the course were in neighborhoods, we also had lots of great spectators who came out of their homes to dance for us or play instruments in their driveways.  One guy even set up a canopy where he busted out his accordion along with taped accompaniment of the rest of a band (it wasn’t Weird Al – I checked.  I absolutely would have made time for a selfie with Weird Al).  One thing that also seemed to be a trend on this race was the multiple times I saw adorable older Asian ladies out on the sidewalks, waving at us, giving us oranges and bananas, and just being encouraging.  The O.C. has a large Asian-American population (the greater LA area does in general), and the support of these grandmother-aged ladies was more than appreciated.  One wonderful woman saw me walking (and probably grimacing – I couldn’t always help it) and she waved at me to get my attention and once I was fully focused on her, she gave me the most authentic double thumbs-up gesture I’ve ever seen.  I won’t forget her anytime soon.

Eventually, we made our way to mile 25 (a few miles in here were on the paved bike path running next to the Santa Ana River – the path itself was fine, but viewing the homeless campsites on the other side of the river wasn’t exactly inspiring), where we headed out of the neighborhoods (running next to the Costa Mesa golf course as well) and to the intersection of two major roads (3 lanes in each direction on both streets) we’d need to cross to get to the finish line.  Unlike some of the smaller intersections along the course, this one didn’t have traffic fully stopped, and police officers were directing drivers instead.  When I ran up, two other runners had already been paused by a younger volunteer officer (likely an explorer or someone from a program like that), and the real officer allowed cars to go for another minute or two while we stood there.  While I fully understand the need to let traffic flow through major intersections, the delay probably added at least 1-2 minutes onto my race time and 3-4 for the runners who were there waiting when I arrived.  If I had been close to a qualifying goal or even a PR, I would have been pissed as hell; I don’t know if the fault here lies with the race organizers for having us run through this intersection or the officers for not giving runners priority, but either way, this wasn’t acceptable.

Finally, I made it past Orange Coast College and turned into the Fairgrounds.  A few spectators saw us enter, including one with a sign that read, “You run better than the federal government!”  The guy next to me and I commented on how this wasn’t the highest bar in the entire world to clear right now, although we appreciated the sentiment.  The course was set up to have us run past the stage with the band, which was now playing “What I Like About You” in full force.  I heard singing beside me and looked over to see the 4:25 pacer jamming away.  When I realized just how very slow this marathon would be for me, I said f*ck it yet again and started singing along with him. 

We made a few turns around the course, and finally, we were staring down the barrel of the finish line.  Chris grabbed a shot of me about to hit the final timing mat:


Look at the clouds in that sky!

After everything, my time for the marathon was 4:25:21 overall, which is an average 10:08 pace per mile.  This isn’t great for me, but everyone has an off day, and given all of the issues I encountered during the race, I’m fine with it.  I wandered through the secure zone and met up with Chris who made sure to grab this shot:


In the words of our buddy Jake,
“awwwww yisss, chocy milk.”

I wandered into the tent to collect my extra medals, and we headed out to a vacant restroom for me to change into dryer, less disgusting clothes.  One great thing about having the finish line at the Fairgrounds was the massive amount of space for everyone to spread out; I never felt cramped or crowded after the race, even with everyone milling about.


All my hardware – 

the O.C. medal on the left,

the Double Dog Dare tab in the middle,
and the Beach Cities Challenge medal on the right.
The Challenge medal is a giant starfish,
and it opens to reveal the logos of the three races.

I got cleaned up and changed, and we said goodbye to the Fairgrounds, heading for Barley Forge Brewery, which was only a mile or so away.  We killed some time waiting for it to open at Milk and Honey, a local coffee bar which also makes a mean turkey sandwich and granola parfait.  We ended up waiting in the parking lot at Barley Forge for about 15 minutes or so, and as folks started to arrive, we realized that 90% of them were coming straight from the race; poor Barley Forge folks – I bet their place smelled horrible for at least a few days afterward.


At Barley Forge, having a Nitro Patsy.


The Barley Forge big truck.

We had some eats at the brewery as well, and the standout for sure were the lamb sliders.  Dang, they were delicious.  They also make a superb pretzel app, which comes with homemade beer cheese, homemade mustard, and homemade caramel sauce; all of the sauces were outstanding.  While we sat at Barley Forge, we happened to notice that a brand new brewery was open literally across the street, so while we were in the area, we decided to check it out as well.  We wandered (me, slowly but under my own power) over to Gunwhale to try their offerings:


All sorts of delicious things!


This pheasant cracked me up.
Just a stuffed pheasant on the gray, industrial wall.


Apparently, the idea behind Gunwhale is that it is where “land meets sea,” so it’s vaguely nautical (lots of ropes and whatnot) but also features hunting and farming stuff on the walls (hence the hide and the pheasant).  While the branding seems a bit strange, the beer was solid, and we’d recommend a stop there.

Finally, it was time to head home, take an amazing shower, and fall asleep while attempting to catch up on tv.  During the shower, I found all sorts of chafing that had occurred due to my wet clothes rubbing on me for several hours; while I do tend to chafe when running, my Ruby’s Lube works great for me, but even it couldn’t last through constant, drenching rain and four and a half hours of torture.  Here’s my sad stomach, where my race kilt obviously touches my abdomen:


Yes, this hurts.
After the race, I told Chris,

“it rained so much, I’m surprised
I didn’t see any bloody nips on any dudes.”
Chris countered with, “oh, I did.”
Eeesh.

We did some laundry, made tacos for dinner, and ate cupcakes for dessert.  Even though I didn’t hit my goals, what a great race day!  As always, a huge thanks to Coach Luis for training me through the season, and to Chris for being an amazing race husband (he stood in the soaking rain, too, of course).

Later!

Amy

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