For a bit under a year, I’ve been going to a local CrossFit gym: Mad Dawg Fitness. If you haven’t heard, CrossFit involves doing a little bit of everything, with a goal of getting decent at everything. This involves power lifting, Olympic lifting, pull ups, push ups, hand stands, jump ropes, box jumps, dips, short runs, rope climbs, farmer walks, lunges, etc. etc. On a typical night we’ll focus on technique/increased load in one lift, and then do a 5-15 minute high intensity circuit workout. The most I’ve ever run in a workout there is 2k (either as 2×1k, or 5×400m) which happens maybe once every other month. (I only go 3 times a week. Some people go more often.)

Danielle and our friend Jasmine had signed up to the the 1st half of the San Francisco Marathon when Danielle hurt her knee and decided she couldn’t run. She’s done a few half marathons while I’ve always been of the opinion that running sucks and is miserable. But partly to do something hard, and partly to not let Jasmine run alone I decided to run in Danielle’s place. I decided some time near the end of June. Here’s all the running I did in preparation for the half:
July 1, 2.5 miles in my Vibram Five Fingers before giving up with an arch cramp.
July 4, switching to shoes, 4.3 miles before giving up because the inserts were shot.
July 8, after buying new inserts, 3.2 miles.
July 11, 7.5 miles.
July 15, 5.2 miles.
July 18, 12 miles. This was supposed to be a 10 mile run, but I misread my map.
July 20, 4.2 miles.
So with a grand total of 38.9 miles run this year, I went into today’s half marathon. (Actually, I ran 2.1 miles on February 6, too, but I’ll call that experimental error.)

I won’t spend more than this sentence complaining how early I had to get up, but it was early. Jasmine’s friend dropped us off near the start, and we found our wave easily. It wasn’t super cold, but cold enough that I was glad to have brought a trash bag to wear while waiting around. Everything seemed well-organized and was running smoothly. After 20 minutes or so it was our time to start, and to loud cheers the front of the last wave got going. Once there was some room in front of us we got going too. We’d decided on 7 minutes of running followed by 1 minute of rest and with our easy pace that meant a break before the first mile was up. Our first mile took 11:54, which seemed perfect for our stated goal of finishing in two and a half hours.

The next few miles went by without a hitch in 10:54, 11:28, and 11:41. The weather was perfect for running: cool and overcast. Somewhere on this stretch we ran on a bike path headed straight out to the bay, and I remember thinking how pretty it was. In the air was a mix of cut grass and seawater smell which I both like. But then I did feel like it’d be a lot prettier without a thousand people running in front of and behind me.

Our first little hill wasn’t much of a problem, and we felt alright climbing up to the Golden Gate Bridge. We must have slowed down though, because miles 5 and 6 took us 27:46. Part of that was probably due to traffic on the bridge. 3 lanes were closed for the half marathon: 1 for outgoing runners, 1 for returning runners, and 1 as a safety barrier between the runners and the real traffic. 1 lane was just too narrow, and we found us often slowing down, waiting for a gap between the people in front of us. One downside of the run/walk interval is definitely that you then have to be passing people while you’re running and there wasn’t always space to do that.

At the turnaround point in Marin County we used the water station. They were all well staffed and well equipped, but all but the very first one we passed had run out of gel. Jasmine was regretting not carrying one with her, and I had been counting on getting one at the water station but there were none to be had. There was a fun band playing though, which helped us get going for the way back across the bridge. Miles 7 and 8 took 23:53, again under the 12 minute mile pace we were shooting for.

This is when Jasmine really started hurting. She’d been complaining about a crampy foot almost the whole race, and now her knee was starting to bug her. During our walking breaks she’d be limping a little bit. But she’s a real trooper and just kept on going. Aside from tight calves, and a pinky toe that was rubbing against my shoe, I felt alright. I barely even breathed hard. I guess that’s what you’re supposed to do, but when running by myself I always go faster than that.

We did mile 9 in 10:52 due to a perfect downhill coming from the top of the bridge. Mile 10 inexplicably took just 8:46. I suspect a marker wasn’t quite in the right place, or I just didn’t push the buttons on my watch right. It was at the top of a pretty steep hill. From then on I thought it was all downhill but it was more up-and-down than just down. By mile 11 Jasmine had to start taking breaks aside from our scheduled ones. It took 11:06, but mile 12 took 13:09.

At mile 12 I went ahead by myself. I didn’t want to feel like I’d spent the whole race taking it easy, and while 1 mile of hard running can’t make you feel like 13 miles of moderate running I did my best to make it hurt. I didn’t keep a very consistent pace though because I wasn’t familiar with the course, and I didn’t see the 13 mile marker so I didn’t start sprinting until I could see the finish. That last 1.1 mile took me 9:16 and got me winded enough that I wondered if I was going to pass out after the finish. It was pretty fun though, passing people left and right, darting through clumps of runners and weaving around others.

It took me 2:30:41 to finish the half marathon, or an 11:30 minute mile pace. The 12 mile run the previous week I completed in 2:07:47, or a 10:36 minute mile pace. That run definitely felt harder than the real race. I’m guessing of course, but I think hanging back with Jasmine probably cost me about 10 minutes overall time in the event. But instead of 2:20 of misery, I got to mostly take it easy and enjoy her company rather than run the race by myself. That was totally worth it.

After I’d picked up my medal and space blanket I went looking for Jasmine and saw her just before she crossed the finish at 2:34:58 (11:50 minute mile pace). She was a lot worse off than I was. I just spent my time stretching out my super-tight calves. Jasmine instead went to the medical tent to ice her foot. Not that that was the only part that needed icing, just the most pressing one. Jasmine’s friend picked us up at the finish, which was awesome because the lines for the buses back to the start were huge. Luckily he’d found a parking spot fairly close. It took Jasmine just another mile time to hobble over there.

So now it’s done. I’m sitting at home drinking water, with two very tight calves and a blister on my pinky toe. There’ll be some foam rolling later that’s sure to hurt like hell. I need to catch up on sleep, and I probably won’t feel up to working out tomorrow. And the race was pretty easy for me. Jasmine’ll take longer than that to get back. I just hope she doesn’t have to walk any stairs tomorrow. In return for all that work we got a shirt, a medal that looks like it belongs on a key chain, and the knowledge that we can cover 13.1 miles in about two and a half hours. (It is a very nicely designed key chain thing though, and I similarly like the shirt’s design.) I wasn’t really excited for the race, either before or after it. I just spent a couple of hours following the people in front of me.

Instead I could’ve gone on a pretty hike which would net me memories of beautiful places and some pictures. Or I could’ve spent the time finishing my cabinet, which (eventually) will get me a cabinet I can look at and be proud of. Or I could’ve tried to set a dead lift PR without waking up early, and with only being miserable for a few minutes while lifting the weight and spending the rest of the time hanging out with friends. Or finally get back to practicing playing the harmonica. Or get back on my slackline. This feeling is very similar to after the triathlon I did a few years ago. I just don’t see the point.

But I’m very impressed with how easy it was to go from never running more than 2k in a workout occasionally, to easily finishing a half marathon in the top 77% (in my age group). If I’d gone my own pace (2:20) I would’ve ended up in the top 62%. (And 2:10 would’ve put me right in the middle of my age group.) Nothing spectacular, but not embarrassing either. The get-you-ready-for-anything aspect of CrossFit seems to really work.

Danielle and I got up at 6:30, which is kind of early for a weekend. For breakfast I had a bowl of honey nut cheerios with skim milk (because my 2% milk had turned sour on me). After tending to the rats, we headed out. We managed to fit both our bikes in my car, which was nice, and we easily found a free parking spot when we arrived at the site just before 8 am. We put our bikes together, and set up our transition areas. The transition area was pretty full when we got there, and I wandered around a bit looking for an open spot. Turns out I was looking for too big a spot, because I ended up wedged pretty close in between two other people (which was not a problem at all).

After visiting the porta potties, we quickly went to look at the water. The surf looked pretty rough but not insurmountable. We put on our wetsuits and caught the tail end of the pre-race meeting. Danielle’s friend told us that, due to a strong long shore current, the swim course would just be an out and back to a buoy. When we got to the swim start, along with several hundred others, the announcer informed us of a 15 minute delay. Then they moved the starting line a bunch up current. Finally the white capped men (who are expected to be the fastest overall) got to start. We watched them go into the ocean, and then rapidly drift with the current. One young boy turned back fairly quickly, while most of the men tried repeatedly to get past the 3rd set of waves. I think a few of them did make it, but without my glasses I couldn’t tell.

Next up were the white capped women but, seeing the result of the men, the race organisers changed the swim course. The women were told to swim out a lot less far, then take a left at the lifeguard, swim through the surf for a few hundred yards, and then turn into shore at the next lifeguard. And they were off, with much the same result as the men. It was made worse by the fact that the lifeguards (who were mostly on surf boards) had a really hard time holding their place. A pair of jet skis showed up to tow the lifeguards back up current, but it seemed to be a losing battle.

My group was next. The route was adjusted once again. Life guards were to stand where the water was ankle to knee deep, and we would run around them. I was pretty disappointed, because I’ve spent a lot of time learning to swim freestyle somewhat acceptably, and I was looking forward to the challenge of making it through the waves. (I’ll be the first to admit that I might not have made it, but that’s what the lifeguards are there for.) At least I could finally start the triathlon (duathlon?). We all ran around the first guard, and I dove into the water just to get wet. About half way through that run my legs started to really complain, and when the water rose above my shins I decided it was time to walk a bit. I was not the only one. Occasionally swimming a few strokes, but mostly running, I made it to the exit point, very tired. I don’t know if swimming would have been harder or easier, but that run did a number on my legs. From the water to the transition area is 165 meters through beach sand. No fun to run either but I didn’t get passed too much, and I got the top of my wetsuit off. Time to get on the bike.

I found my bike easily (thank you exit-triathletes-only sign). It was pretty busy but not too bad. By the time I had gotten my wetsuit off it was just me and another guy. Having the transition area on grass was really nice because I could comrtably sit down while working on getting the suit off my ankles. As I was running with my bike it crossed my mind I wouldn’t be needing the arm warmers I’d stashed in my jersey pockets, but it didn’t seem worth going back for. After a short run past lots of excited spectators, I was allowed to get on my bike. Putting on my shoes (while on the bike) didn’t go as well as when I’ve practiced it. I weaved a little but luckily nobody was right behind me at that time. Eventually (while still in the park) I got both my feet in my shoes and I could start pedalling for real. It feels like starting with my shoes on the bike wasn’t worth it, although I’ve never actually tried to run in my bike shoes and that may have been worse.

Almost immediately I was passing people, and I would keep passing people throughout the entire bike course. There were a few times where I slowed down a bit because people in front of me were being passed, but I don’t think it affected me too much. One guy did speed up as I was passing him. Because there was no space in front of me, I dropped back a bit waiting for the next chance. The person behind me then passed me and the guy in front, who did the same thing again but couldn’t keep up. At the next opportunity, which was going through the first turn, I blew past the first guy and didn’t see him again. I did get passed some, but I don’t remember anybody in my age group passing me (once I got my shoes on). They were all skinny women on expensive-looking bikes.

It was quite windy and, of course, it felt like the majority of the course went into the wind. The one stretch with the wind full on your back was pretty sweet, though. About 4 miles into the course I decided it was time to eat the hammer gel that came in my race packet. I wouldn’t have even bothered but James seemed adamant that it makes quite a big difference. The flavor was OK, but mostly my body didn’t seem prepared to accept food at that time. I swallowed to small bites before putting the remainder back in my jersey. Then I had some water. I have no idea if it helped me or not.

Towards the end of the course is the biggest climb of the bike, which is going over a bridge. Just before that a 50 year old woman blew by me, but she slowed down enough going up that I stood on my pedals for a little bit and stuck with her going up. Then she just pulled away from me and I never saw her again. At the end of the bike lots of people helped me turn sharp enough to enter the park. Taking off my shoes was easy, and I got to pedal some more once I completed that. I didn’t take the “Slow down!” people quite seriously enough and I almost blew through the dismount line (just like the guy next to me) but stopped in time. I reracked my bike, emptied my pockets, put on my running shoes and started running. Just before the exit of the transition area I noticed something was wrong, so I took off my helmet and left it there on the ground.

The run pretty much sucked. My legs didn’t want to go, and people were passing me left and right. An 11-year old girl passed me like I was standing still, and then these 2 guys wearing tutus did the same thing. I stopped and walked at each aid station for long enough to drink a little cup of water. When I did this around mile 2 (3rd aid station), I suddenly noticed a blister on my left pinky toe. Luckily that was also about the time where my legs started to feel more like running (but not less tired). I only occasionally felt my blister after that, but it sure hurt a lot when I first noticed it. I got to pass the finish line, but it didn’t feel like the mental kick in the head that other people say it is.

I ran to the next turnaround point where there sadly was no water. Turning around had me running into the wind, which was extremely refreshing. Between that and the knowledge that I had less than half a mile to go, I actually managed to speed up a little. I kept pounding the pavement until I saw the red arch in the distance, and when it seemed closer than I thought it was, I even managed to kind of spring for the last 50 yards. They said my name, but I was more focused on the sports drink that was handed to me while somebody else was taking off my timing chip. I think I’d gone through half of it before the chip was gone.

I was pretty wiped out, but didn’t feel as bad as I did after the 10k. I wandered around a bit, grabbed a sweater, and managed to cheer on my wife and her friend as they ran past the finish line, and then across it. The rest of the time was mostly spent feeling wiped out. I didn’t get enough water or food. I probably could have found more water, but the post-race food seemed to be limited to chocolate-covered strawberries and oranges. Tasty, but I would have preferred something more substantial. Other than the swim being cancelled (which is a direct result of a poor choice of venue) and the food, I thought the race was run well.

At the end of the race, I just felt done. Not happy or sad, just glad that I didn’t have to run anymore. This is in contrast with how I felt at the end of the 10k I ran last year. I think the difference is that I got to enjoy some scenery during the 10k, and that I wasn’t sure at all how fast I would be able to finish a 10k. I don’t remember any scenery from today’s bike, and barely any from the run. I went just a little faster than I expected to go. Completing the swim would have been the most satisfying part of this race, but it was cancelled. Maybe I’ll do another tri where the swim won’t be cancelled, but that would be the only reason. In a longer race you might have more time to check out the scenery, but you’re still primarily focused on getting somewhere fast which means you won’t stop to smell the roses. I would still like to do a long (100 miles) bike ride some day. But for the next month or two my focus is to get my back in shape again.

PS. The results are up for everyone to see. My “swim” was 5:52 (which translates to an incredible 14:39 per kilometer pace). 3:08 for T1. 35:28 on the bike (19.4 mph). 1:32 T2. 26:18 run (8:46 miles). I placed 43rd out of 68 in my age group, and 339th out of 687 overall.

Danielle and I got up at 6:30, and out the door just before 7. We easily found a parking spot close by. We comfortably picked up our stuff, used the restrooms, and warmed up just a little and stretched.

We lined up near the back since our main goal was just to finish. I thought it realistic to finish before the first 5k finisher (the 5k started 1 hour after the 10k). I was secretly hoping to finish in under an hour. The starting signal was a siren, and when the noise began the mass of people slowly started moving. I imagine that at the front people were really running but I couldn’t tell from where I was. My legs were feeling pretty heavy which worried me some. I just tried to get into my pace, but I had a hard time doing that because there were so many other people around. The problem wasn’t that they slowed me down (although I passed a fair number in the first half mile or so) but rather that with everybody else running I couldn’t tell whether I was running at a comfortable pace for me, or if I was just matching the speed of the person in front of me.

The beginning of the race was very pleasant. We started under a picturesque oak and ran by orange and avocado groves. I was enjoying the scenery. At the 8 minute mark I took my scheduled 1-minute walking break. Legs still felt a little heavy, but I seemed to be moving OK. At around 10 minutes I was wondering where the mile marker was, and at around 12 minutes it became clear there weren’t any mile markers. I would’ve liked them to see how fast I was actually running, but nothing to do about it except keep on running. I reached the water stand halfway through the next walking break. Since I was quite hot by then this was very welcome. I later looked it up, and at the time of the race the temperature hovered around 80F, while the course only has occasional shade. Drank one small cup, and tossed another one on my head/shirt. I asked, but the water people didn’t know how far I’d run so far.

The heaviness in my legs had disappeared by then, and I was feeling pretty good. I did start to think I hadn’t hydrated quite enough, though. Somewhere in this stretch I lost interest in the scenery, and mainly just watched the road ahead of me. The steepest part of the race was here. It was maybe 50 yards where the incline was really noticeable, though. I caught a guy, and then he passed me during my walking break. Didn’t see him again. Everybody was pretty spread out at this time, and it wasn’t very different from just running a training run by myself. I got a little stitch in my side, but that went away. My stomach started to feel heavy, and I wondered if maybe I should’ve skipped my half-bagel breakfast. After a very demoralizing .1 mile out-and-back to the side of the course, I hit the water stand again. Drank another cup, and emptied another on my head which felt wonderful.

By the time of my 5th walking break at 44 minutes I had sort of zoned out. So much so that I didn’t notice it was time for a break until 20 seconds later. About 4 minutes after that break I was really ready to be done. Nothing really hurt or ached. I just generally felt really fatigued. The only upside was that that the end was clearly near. Based on how long it had taken me to get to the intersection I was at it looked like I would finish in under an hour. I spent the time trying to think what to do if it was for a walking break just before the finish. On the one hand it seemed like the right thing to do was to push for the finish. On the other hand a walking break would be so very nice. I resolved to take my 54-minute break a minute early. Only after the race did I realize that there is no break at 54 minutes. It is at 53 minutes, which is what I ended up doing. A minute later some part of me thought it might be good just to walk some more rather than running more. Luckily my brain decided that what I was doing now was no worse than climbing Mt Whitney with altitude sickness, so that my legs were to keep running. They did. I could see cones in the distance, but I was just waiting for the race to be over. Two volunteers told me to have a strong finish, saying the end was “right there.” Looking up, I discovered they were right, so I lengthened my stride a little and finished “strong.” I remember glancing at the clock but I have no idea what it read, except that it was less than 1 hour.

Somebody gave me a bottle of water. A little bit went in my mouth, and considerably more on my head. I was feeling a little queasy, so I just walked back and forth in the shade until I felt better. Some prior experience with the same feeling prevented me from sitting down right away. Waiting for Danielle to finish, I watched the 5k start. About 10 minutes later she finished, very happy with her performance. We both got massages which definitely made me feel very nice and relaxed. I looked up my official time, which was 57:16. Running the race was pretty miserable at the end, but the feeling you get afterward is very rewarding. Came home for a breakfast of left-over crepes. Going to do a lot of nothing and eating today. Maybe I’ll try another 10k later this year.