Catching Unicorns (Mountains 2 Beach 2023)

I signed up for Mountains 2 Beach because I was running (no pun intended) off of a post-race high from IM California 140.6 and wanted to get back to marathoning (and marathoning without swimming and biking beforehand). I asked my fellow Sasquatch runners about their spring plans (because races are more fun with people you know), and quite a few of them had signed up for this one. My friend Lavar coaches runners virtually and has a marathon PR of 2:43, so I hired him to write a 15-week training plan for me. In life, accountability and learning from those who are better than you are key. With the exception of a couple of workouts (which I’ve attributed to low iron and very tired legs), everything went well. I also dropped my half-marathon PR that was from 2013, so that was a huge confidence booster. Still, you never know what’ll happen on race day, and so I set three goals (A goal: break 3 hours; B goal: beat previous PR of 3:01:41; C goal: get sub-3:05 and BQ). With that, I went into race weekend thinking that I had done all the training I could do and whatever happens happens. 

We got an Airbnb to house our crew of 10 (5 marathoners, 2 half-marathoners, 1 5Ker, and 2 spectators). Most of the crew had arrived on Thursday, but we flew down to Ventura on Friday afternoon. Dinner consisted of pizza and fries, and then we stopped for ice cream.

We all trekked down to the (very small) expo on Saturday to pick up race materials, and then to Vons so that I could pick up some oatmeal cups for race morning. And while we were there, I discovered Pure Leaf extra sweet tea (hello, liquid sugar for carb loading!) and Rise cold brew (the Airbnb only had a Keurig, and most coffee is better than the K-cups). From there, we drove up to Ojai so we could do a shakeout run along the course (2 miles for me) and get lunch (chicken pad thai).

Once we got back, we relaxed until dinner. I used some of that time to pin my bib to my singlet and get (mostly) everything ready for race day. Dinner was pasta with chicken sausage and a bit of salad. After dinner, I got my oatmeal ready (overnight oats style for the win!) and was in bed by 9pm.

Race Day:

The race started at 6, so I set an alarm for 3am. However, I woke up at 1:45 and laid in bed until 2:45 when I finally heard a bit of commotion downstairs. It was so interesting to see everyone with their headphones on just trying to mentally get ready by tuning everyone else out. I had one can of Rise cold brew and two travel cups of instant oats (one apple cinnamon and one maple brown sugar).

The race offers shuttles, but none of us coordinated our shuttle selections, and one of our support crew ended up driving all five of us to the start. I took a bottle of Nuun in the car with me and finished it by the time we parked (around 5-5:15am).

After everyone used the portapotties, we all proceeded with our warmups. The rest of the crew did a short jog and I stuck behind and did some dynamic stretches.

All five of us were in the same corral (they split everyone up into three corrals based on estimated finish time), so we lined up together. At this point, I went from being mildly nervous to extremely nervous. After the gun went off, Mark took off while, Alex, Warren, Leon, and I stuck together.

The first 6-7 miles take runners around Ojai and are the hilliest miles of the course (roughly 200-250 ft of gain), so I expected these to be slower than target pace. You can imagine my shock when I saw that the mile 1 split was 6:44 (8 seconds faster than goal). I wondered if I had gone out too fast and this race was going to unravel. But I just kept focusing on sticking with the pack. At the 5k mark, we turned around and headed back towards downtown Ojai - the pack was still together and still hitting splits between 6:40-6:49.

Thirty minutes into the race, I took my first gel, and then just kept trucking along with the pack. At some point, Alex mentioned that their plan was to hit a 6:45 average for the first 20 miles and then it would be a duel in the last 10k. I responded by saying that if I hit 6:45 for the first 20 miles, I’d be elated. 

Around the 10k mark, we saw our shuttle drivers. I personally appreciated seeing them, and I was quite happy and surprised that our pack of four was still together. And that we We started climbing a hill and I started singing “Running Up That Hill”. (Maybe it was runner delirium or euphoria, but I was uttering most anything that came to mind.) 

We continued running along at our 6:40-6:45 pace, and I sucked down my next gel at the 1 hour mark (somewhere between miles 8 and 9). We logged 6:30 for mile 9, leading Alex to say that we needed to slow it down for a bit (since we were about 3 seconds per mile faster than his target pace). I fully supported this, because we still had over half the race to go. We slowed it down for that mile, but then picked it back up for the next couple.

Eventually, we hit a crowd of people and the gel aid station. I snagged a chocolate Clif Shot from them because it was within reach and I needed a gel for later on. We also hit the halfway mark in 1:27:38 (6:41/mi).

At the 1:30 mark, I opted for a gel with about 30mg of caffeine. Around mile 15, we hit a hill (seriously, wasn’t this course supposed to be downhill). Warren drifted back from the pack, Alex drifted back to motivate him, and Leon decided to keep trying to maintain our pace. In that moment, I decided to run my own race. I scaled back to a 6:50-6:59 pace and was playing mental math against my A, B, and C goals. I also stuck with my plan of gels every 30 minutes, and took my Maurten gel with 100mg of caffeine at the 2 hour mark (close to mile 18). 

I hit mile 20 in about 2:15 (and with an average pace of 6:45, shockingly), and realized that I could hit sub-3 if I ran 7:20ish miles for the rest of the race. This was the first point that sub-3 actually seemed like a reality. Funny enough, someone fired off a confetti gun at that moment. 

Either adrenaline or the caffeine from my gel (or both) must’ve kicked in, because my pace dropped down to 6:42 for mile 21 and 6:33 for mile 22. At the 2:30 mark (between miles 22 and 23), I took that chocolate Clif shot I grabbed and was seriously grossed out by it. Shortly after, I caught up to Leon and passed him. 

With 5K left to go, we entered Ventura (where the race ends) and made our way to Main Street. This was cool because we went there for dinner on Friday (so it was like, “Hey, I know this place!) but awful because they had us going uphill. (This ended up being my slowest mile of the race.) Alex caught up with me on Main Street and passed me. At this point, it seemed too early for a surge and I was more focused on my mental math and running my race. It’s also worth noting that with each mile, my A goal seemed more and more within reach.

In the last mile, I started seeing our crew of spectators and runners who did the half-marathon and 5K, which was energizing. Also, I thought I saw the finish line, so I surged. I saw Alex cross the finish line, and I crossed the finish line while he was still in the chute.

I knew I had broken the elusive barrier and I was floored. Additionally, I was glad to be able to celebrate with a teammate in the finish chute and have our crew on the other side of the barricades. I also realized how badly everything hurt. With some help, I went to the results tent and got my time - 2:57:55 (6:47/mi). First sub-3 and a BQ by seven minutes.

What went right:

Above all, I think the training went right. Having someone more knowledgeable write a personalized plan was definitely worth the investment. As was having someone who checks in regularly (both via text and call). 

Setting all of the big things out (clothing, shoes, socks, gels) the night before took a lot of stress off of me on race morning. I can’t believe it took me 16 times to figure that out.

I stuck to my fueling plan and I think that helped a lot. Thank you, Garmin watch, for the feeding alarms!

What could be improved:

I took my Nuun in the car because I completely forgot it until right before we left the house. I’m glad I was able to hydrate in the car, but this is something that could’ve been done in advance.

I only brought four gels because I thought that my shorts only had room for four. However, they could hold at least one more and had I brought one more, I wouldn’t have had to grab a nasty chocolate one.

Lastly, I started my kick with about 0.25 mi to go, and maybe I should have started increasing the speed with 0.5 mi to go. 

Key Takeaways:

Coaching was well worth the investment. I could write a whole separate post about my experience with this, but I’ll just say that if you have a race in mind and a race goal, get a plan that’s specifically tailored to you. A nice bonus is you get a cheerleader who will remind you that you’re doing awesome when you feel anything but.

On the note of goals, they may be big and scary, but big and scary doesn’t mean impossible. And if they ever start to feel that way, call your squad to have them remind you that they’re possible and to believe in yourself.

TRI-umph (IM 70.3 Victoria)

Before I start this recap, you’re probably wondering why a marathoner with limited outdoor cycling experience and minimal swimming experience decided to sign up for a Half-IRONMAN. Well, I’m crazy, okay?

But really, I wanted a different challenge. And around the time that I thought this, registration had just opened up for the IRONMAN 70.3 in Victoria, BC. The course looked beautiful and it was driving distance from my house in WA state. Plus, I had never been to Victoria, and this seemed like a great excuse to go see it!

Just to give you all an idea of what I signed up for (because I don’t think I fully comprehended it) — a Half-IRONMAN consists of a 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike ride, and a 13.1 mile run. Or to translate into metric (because apparently, that’s what our Canadian friends strictly use), a 1.9 km swim, 90 km bike ride, and a 21.1 km run.

The day before

Athletes either have to claim their race stuff on Friday or Saturday, and you select an hour window in advance of race weekend to check in. Given that we were traveling up to Canada on Friday evening, I chose a slot on Saturday morning.

The check-in process involves several pieces. Athletes have to claim their race bags (which happens to be a sturdy knapsack), which includes a timing chip (that goes around your ankle), race bib and safety pins, and stickers with your bib number to put on your bike helmet, bike, and all gear bags. Then you get a wristband that’s branded with “IRONMAN 70.3” and has your bib number printed on it. This wristband serves as your pass into the transition area and you have to leave it on for the duration of the weekend. Once you get all of that, then you claim your T-shirt and then you check your bike into the transition area.

The transition area is organized by bib number, which makes it incredibly easy to find your section. Additionally, there are separate entry/exit areas for the bike and the run. Luckily, my area wasn’t too far from either the bike entry/exit or the run entry/exit. 

Pre-race

The race started at 6am and the start was going to open around 4:30am. So working backwards from there… I got up at 2:15am. I don’t think I’ve had a race wake-up call that early since Santa Rosa in 2014. But I wanted to make sure that my pre-race breakfast of oatmeal and coffee had ample time to digest. Plus, since nobody else was awake, I was able to enjoy some moments of silence. And I attempted to use that time to calm my nerves and remind myself of the sage advice I received to keep on smiling.

I got dropped off at the race busses at 4:30am and arrived at the transition area/race start at 5:15am. This was ample time to get my wetsuit on and get my transition area set up underneath my bike. 

Swim

We lined up at about 5:45 for a 6am start. Swimmers were self-grouped by projected swim time, so I started with the 46-50 min group. One of the people standing near me in the queue said that the water temperature was about 15ºC (59ºF). Cold, but at that point, there’s really nothing that I could do. Plus, isn’t this why they make wetsuits?

Swimmers entered the water 3-5 at a time, and there were about 1,200-1,300 athletes. You do the math on how long I was waiting. 

While I waited, I could see some of the faster athletes getting out of the water from their swims. I had to ultimately wait until 6:50am (or about then) to enter the water. Once I got in the water, I had that shock of “This is cold!” 

There were buoys every 100m (because this is Canada, everything was marked in metric), and all I could think about was getting to the next buoy. Meanwhile, I was still cold and people were passing me on both sides. Eventually, I was convinced that everyone had passed me and I was going to get swept out of the water for being too slow. This was likely the most challenging and demoralizing experience I’ve ever had. I tried smiling through the negative thoughts, but it’s kind of hard to smile when your face is under water.All the while, I saw someone get pulled out of the water and wrapped in a space blanket. Yeah, THAT’S how cold it was. I thought about raising my hand to get a buoy to stop on for a second, but I told myself that we were riding the wire on the time cutoff and we didn’t have time for breaks. 

Finally, I got to the last buoy and thought, “Hallelujah, I made it!” I looked at my watch and saw that I made it in under an hour and was so grateful that I made the cutoff of one hour and ten minutes. Next stop, the transition area!

T1

Since I was so slow in the swim, most of the athletes were already out on the bike course when I made it to the transition area. Very demoralizing. To make matters worse, I was so cold that I was shivering and had trouble getting out of my wetsuit. I wondered if I should get medical attention for being so cold, but the stubborn athlete in me said that we didn’t push through the last hour to take a DNF. I finally managed to make it out of the wetsuit and into my bike clothes. And since I was still cold, I put on running gloves. And then, I finally got out of the transition area and onto the bike. When I saw that my transition time was over 10 minutes, all I could do was laugh. 

Bike

I opted to wear running gloves for the bike ride because I was so cold from the swim. At the start of the bike ride, I was cold and nauseous. But I was still able to move my legs and pedal, and enjoy the beautiful British Columbian scenery. (Their license plates aren’t kidding when they call it “Beautiful British Columbia!”) I saw Scott and the dogs around the 5K mark, and I was so relieved to see all of them that I smiled. 

I forced myself to have some water because I didn’t want any more issues besides the nausea, and hydration was entirely within my control. About 45 min in, I finally had enough appetite to take a salted caramel Gu. (I figured slightly liquid sustenance would go down way easier than Honey Stinger gel blocks.)

I continued pedaling on and saw some cyclists (and passed them), and seeing other athletes on the course helped boost my morale. Somewhere in the first half of the race, the course veered onto a narrow bike path and the path was a “do not pass” zone. Unfortunately, I got stuck behind a couple of cyclists on this path and had to slow down. Thankfully, the path was only about 1 km and I was able to pass them within a few minutes.

The course then went along the water (always restorative) and I saw some signs for the ferries from Sidney to the US. Based on the course map, I thought of Sidney as the halfway point because it’s at the northern tip of the peninsula and that’s where the cyclists turned around and started heading back towards the transition area. I looked at the clock on my handlebars, did some mental math, and felt like I was getting some redemption from the horrible swim. Additionally, I had finally warmed up from the swim and my stomach had calmed down enough so that I could have a few gel blocks. All of that brought me a great deal of joy and gave me more reasons to smile.

The next 25K (45-70K of the 90K course) was a blur of hills, water views, mental math, and passing cyclists. Around the 70K mark, I saw a crowd of kids yelling “Only 20K more to go!” I’m not fully fluent in metric, but I’m fluent enough to know that 20K is about 12.4 miles. And after 40+ miles, another 12 seemed manageable. I also saw another spectator who said something along the lines of, “You look strong; how long have you been riding?” I’m not sure if those were their exact words, but that’s what I thought I heard, so I glanced at my watch and saw that I had been on the bike for about 3 hours. In that moment, I had this thought of, “Holy crap, I think I got this.” There was an aid station handing out pieces of unpeeled banana, and because potassium seemed like a good idea, I grabbed one. (In case you were wondering, teeth work quite well for peeling bananas when you still need one hand to steer.)

Somewhere around 75-80K, the course turns onto Willis Point Rd and goes up the steepest hill on the course. To make matters worse, the sun had come out and the road wasn’t shaded. Climbing it required shifting into a low enough gear and getting out of the saddle once or twice. This 1-2K hill (no, I don’t know exactly how many miles it was) had a flatter section tucked into the middle, which provided a morsel of relief. Finally, I reached the turnaround point and could start going down this hill. And shortly after, saw a road sign that indicated that the hill was a 9% grade. So glad I didn’t see that until I started the descent! Downhill was a great reprieve, and seeing the 80K marker soon after turning back onto the main road was a huge boost. Only 10K left!

I saw Scott as I made the final turn of the bike course and just focused on making it back to the transition area. Finally, I could see the “Cyclist Dismount” sign, and so I unclipped, got across the timing mat, and dismounted. 

T2

I scurried from the dismount area to my transition area. I saw some athletes who had already finished the race and just thought, “Oh fuck, I still have the third leg of this!”

Since I was going to run in my cycling clothes, T2 was going to be much shorter than T1. Unfortunately, I didn’t think that I should pin my bib on my cycling jersey beforehand and had to use some of my T2 time to do that.

Run

Not wanting to waste any time, I started jogging/running to the run start, which seemed like it was 400 meters away and was likely only half that far away. I finally felt like I was in my element and hitting my stride, but let’s face it, I have way more experience running than with the other two sports. 

The run course was two loops around Elk Lake. I merged onto the path and immediately just focused on moving and passing people. (Fun fact: most of the athletes competing will run/walk the running portion of these races.) The first sign I saw was the 11K marker, and I started doubting if I was on the right path (because I most certainly had not run 11K). A few minutes later, I saw the 1K sign and then it dawned on me — the run was 21K, which means that each loop was actually 10.5K. 10.5K is about 6.5 miles, and thinking of the course as two 6M loops made it seem very manageable.

But the course. For the most part, it was a well-shaded trail run. Shade was much appreciated because by this point, the sun had come out and I forgot to pack sunscreen in my transition supplies. (In my defense, the forecast said it was going to be cloudy all day.) 

In the first couple of kilometers, I saw the “live entertainment” (a spectator playing “About Damn Time” by Lizzo), Scott filming, and horse crap (apparently, the horses use this trail too). I had a few gel blocks to hopefully give me some extra oomph. Around 7-8K, there was this steep hill to go up (okay, maybe it wasn’t very steep, but after all of the previous activity and the race guide saying that the run was flat, such a hill seemed steep and less than welcome). This hill led us through an aid station and then to a turnaround point with a timing mat. One of the volunteers asked if I were on my second loop. When I informed him that I wasn’t, he said something like “I’ll see you again; keep it up!” And a couple of kilometers later, I started the second loop. The second loop was much like the first loop, except it seemed better because it was my last loop. 

I got to the branch to turn to the finish line and booked it towards the finish line. After nearly seven hours, the end was so close. And just like that, I was done. One of the volunteers took my timing chip, gave me my medal, finisher hat, and water, and then sent me to the food area. I claimed the pasta salad they were serving and then Scott found me. (He was at the finish, but I didn’t try to look for him because I was focused on the finish line and only that.)

Race Analysis

So here’s where I’ll dissect things so that I can learn for future races. 

Segment	Distance	Time
Swim	1.2 mi/1.9 km	59:27
T1		10:24
Bike	56 mi/90 km	3:50:04
T2		6:25
Run	13.1 mi/21.1 km	1:48:41
Final time	70.3 mi/113 km	6:55:00

I know I have a good deal of opportunities to improve my swim. To start, I need to do more open water swims. The pool is all good and well, except it’s about 20-25 degrees warmer than the open water. Additionally, there isn’t a wall every 20-25 meters to offer milliseconds of rest. Also, the wetsuit chafed the back of my neck and I had no idea for two days after the race, so I’ll have to try Body Glide or an equivalent product.

I also need a better or more concrete fueling strategy for the race itself. I struggled here because my stomach was so off from the swim that I didn’t want to eat anything. My virtual coach recommended Maurten (essentially, liquid fuel that you drink) and since liquids/gels seemed way more palatable than solids, maybe that would work better. I realized at the end of the race that I only had half a bottle of water and a third of a bottle of Nuun during my ride. That is likely not enough fluids for a four hour ride.

To save time during transition, I definitely need to just pin my bib number to the back of my bike jersey before the race.

Was this hard? Oh yes. Did I enjoy it? Cold swim aside, yes. Will I do another one? Also yes.

Things the Ocean Taught Me (BSIM 2017 Race Recap)

I'm aware that I haven't posted an update since 2015, which I will chalk up to life getting in the way. But I ended my 1.5 year marathoning hiatus with the Big Sur International Marathon, and felt like it should be documented.

Big Sur been toted as a bucket-list race because the whole course runs along the ocean, and the scenery is spectacular.

Mile 23 of the course

But it's also notorious for its hills, the worst of which is Hurricane Point. HP starts just before mile 10, and over the course of two miles, runners climb over 400 feet. Based on the hills, I threw any expectations of setting a new PR out the window. Plus, I didn't want to be so hellbent on a time goal that I missed out on the scenery. But my training felt good overall, so my attitude about BSIM in the days leading up to it became, "I'll give it what I have to give, but at the end of the day, 'whatever happens, happens.'"

The race was scheduled for a Sunday, so I opted to fly down on the Friday before. Since we weren't driving to Big Sur until the next day, Meredith and I had a nice day of leisure. And by "day of leisure," I mean that we got breakfast, ran (I went for three miles, and she went for 7.5), got new tires for her car (and got lunch at this Mexican restaurant while we waited), went grocery shopping for the weekend, and cooked dinner. Oh, and Meredith also prepped the batter for our pumpkin teff pancakes we planned on having the next morning.

The next morning, we woke up around 6am and had some coffee before our shakeout run. We ran together for two miles, and then I returned to Meredith's house for some stretching while she continued on for another 2-3 miles. Once she returned, we got started on breakfast. Unfortunately, the pancakes took way longer than expected to cook, so we left for our adventure about 45 minutes later than planned.

Part 1 of breakfast (part 2 was simply more pancakes)

We stopped in San Jose on our way so we could pick up Erin. The three of us had not hung out together since November 2015, so we were excited to have an extended block of time together. By the time we made it to Monterey (where the BSIM race expo was being held), it was about 2pm. The expo was smaller than I was expecting, so we were in and out of there in about 30 minutes.

The wall of registered crazy people

Once we were done there, we fled Monterey and drove to Big Sur. BSIM is a point-to-point course, so your options are to either stay near the finish line and take a shuttle to the starting line at 3:30am (or thereabout), or stay near the starting line and take a shuttle back after the race. We chose to stay near the start at the Big Sur Lodge. And as a result, we got to drive along the entire race course to get there. Since we were all feeling quite hungry, we snacked on trail mix, peanut butter M&Ms, and other food that I can't recall. We stopped for a photo op at the mile 23 marker on the course, and then we stopped for linner at the Big Sur River Inn. (I call it linner because it was around 4pm.) Of course, we managed to snack so much in the car that by the time we finished lunch, we were crazy stuffed. (I took half of my linner to-go, and I'm not usually one to take leftovers!)

Grilled chicken sandwich with sweet potato fries

Since our hotel was super rustic (no TV, no wifi) and cell phone coverage was spotty at best, it made it very easy to crawl into bed early. So the evening's activities consisted of a walk to the hotel cafe so we could try to digest dinner and that Meredith could get something for her pre-long run breakfast (and we all ended up getting ice cream while we were there), chatting (during which I finished my linner), laying out my race stuff for the morning, and going to bed at 8:45pm.

Race Day
I woke up at 3:45am. I had no idea if there were extra blankets in the room (let alone where they were), so after I made coffee, I took that and my millet porridge and had breakfast in bed. (This completely fit in with the "rustic romantic getaway" feel of the Big Sur Lodge.) I filled up my handheld bottle at this time too. (BSIM also has this really nifty BYOB program, where if you bring your handheld bottle, you can fill it up at the water station if you need to.)

Erin and Meredith woke up around 5am. Erin was going to be race cheerleader and watch the finish of the race. In order to make it up there before they closed Highway 1, she and Meredith needed to leave by 6. We also made the executive decision to check out of the hotel on Sunday and send Erin to the finish line with our luggage, so we could just leave from Carmel. So around 5:45, Erin, Meredith, and all of our luggage left the Big Sur Lodge, and started on the 26.2 mile journey to Carmel. (Alright, more specifically, Erin dropped Meredith off at about mile 7 of the course so that Meredith could do her long run, and then took our bags to the finish line.) Erin was kind enough to leave me with a long-sleeve shirt that I was free to throw away, just so that I wouldn't freeze before the start. I felt badly about tossing it, so I ended up holding it for the entire run. (It came in handy as a sweat rag for later in the race.) So ultimately, I ran the entire race with a handheld bottle in one hand, and a long sleeve tech shirt in the other hand.

Once they left, I thought, "I guess I can't chicken out now, because I'm going to have to make my way back to my stuff somehow." I warmed up, and then left the hotel around 6:10 to make my way down to the starting line in time for the 6:45am start. (See why staying near the start is amazing?)

After hanging around the starting line for about 20 minutes, the race officials kicked off the race and sent all of us on our jaunt up Highway 1. My first thought after crossing the starting line was, "What the fuck did I sign myself up for?" After a mile of running through the forest, my attitude switched to, "Ooo, this is kind of fun!" Of course, the first few miles are downhill, so I also had to tell myself to stay controlled. Other thoughts from these first few miles included, "You do you" and "As long as I finish in under 3:59, it won't be a PW (personal worst)."

Around mile 5 or 6, we emerged from the forest and saw the ocean. The view itself was enough to make me ecstatic and think, "Being able to run alongside this for 3.5 hours without being interrupted/bothered is wonderful!"

I took the first of my gels at mile 8. In case you're wondering how I juggled the handheld, shirt, and gel -- whenever I took a gel, I'd hold the shirt and handheld in the same hand, and hold the open gel with the other hand. (As I type this out, I see how ridiculous this sounds. But with a third of the race underway, my somewhat-fatigued brain thought this was perfectly acceptable.) I also photobombed some guy's GoPro shot at some point between then and HP.

Just before HP, you run downhill and can hear these rather ominous drums off in the distance. Immediately, I thought, "Oh no... It's coming." My strategy for the hill was to exert the same effort, and not be alarmed if the pace was slower. I started chatting with this other runner, which helped the hill pass by more quickly. The ocean views helped with this as well. After that, the next few miles are relatively downhill, which is a nice reprieve after going uphill for two miles.

I took my second gel just before the halfway point. I crossed the halfway point in about 1:45, and thought, "OMG, maybe a negative split and a sub-3:30 are possible!" So my goal shifted from "Not getting a PW" to "Finishing in 3:2x and negative-splitting the course". The next few miles included ocean views, and doing math to remind myself that my new goal was possible. I also used math to make the race seem more manageable -- specifically, "x more miles to the next gel, then x more miles to the next one, and then x more to the finish." I was still feeling okay and still passing people, which made me wonder if I were running too quickly. But since I felt okay and my mile splits and calculations still had me finishing in under 3:30, I kept going at that effort.

At mile 18, I took my double espresso gel. This gel has 100 mg of caffeine, and I figured that if I took it at 18, the caffeine would take effect in time for the final 10K (which starts at mile 20). This gel was definitely not my favorite, but it did the trick.

Between mile 20 and 21, I caught up to Erin's friend Sunny, so I said hi, passed her, and continued onward. After that, I focused on mile 23, because Erin, Meredith and I stopped there the day before for a photo op, and I knew that the view was amazing. Also, I planned on taking my last gel at that point. And of course, I continued checking my watch after each mile so I could do math and remind myself that I could finish in 3:2x (and I thought that x=9).

After mile 23, I knew that I only had 5K left, and I was still passing runners. This was reassuring until 24, when I started feeling the fatigue of the miles I had already run. With so little left in the race, I knew I couldn't give up on my goal (because I'd kick myself later if I somehow missed it). I also wanted something more refreshing than water. About a half-mile later, I reached the water and Gatorade station, and that Gatorade seemed like an oasis in the desert. I grabbed some, and it hit the spot.

I eventually reached mile 26, and just picked up the pace until the end. Once I saw the finish line, I knew I had to just empty the tank. I saw that the clock said "3:27:xx", and started grinning like a crazy Cheshire Cat. I then heard/saw Erin and Meredith in the stands, and heard the announcer say my name. Seconds later, I was across the finish line, stopped my watch, and saw that my time according to Garmin was 3:27:53. I got that sub-3:30, my time was faster than 3:29, and by my math, had run the second half about three minutes faster than the first. Yes, my legs felt trashed, but I was floored.

Post-Race

Team Blueberry

My official time was 3:27:43, which is 26 minutes slower than my PR -- literally, a minute per mile slower. Ordinarily, I would've been disappointed about this. And yet, I felt on top of the world, and had this huge grin on my face. And after thinking about it, here's my theory on why. I think going into the race with zero expectations definitely helped. By not setting a time goal, I gave myself permission to focus on something other than the final time. More specifically, I gave myself permission to focus on the activity itself -- the course, the scenery, even the thoughts that popped into my head (I mean, I was without a cell phone for 3.5 hours).

This race reminded me why I love running and subjecting myself to these feats of endurance. Running has allowed, and continues to allow, me to see all sorts of places -- Berlin, the five boroughs of NYC, and the CA coastline, to name a few. And it's usually a reliable way for me to escape from everything and everyone and replay my head movies. More importantly, running (and marathoning, specifically) continually tests my limits, and finishing a big race like this reminds me that I'm capable of more than I believed I was.

During the sixteen weeks of training, there were moments when I felt stressed (about trying to work full-time, be an excellent friend/boyfriend/person, and do all of these workouts) and was ready to file for divorce from the sport of marathoning. But after this, I'm not quite ready to divorce marathoning. No relationship is perfect, but if the relationship brings you more joy than sorrow, then you ought to keep that relationship alive.

Post-race milkshake, with a side of creeper eye

PS: In case you were wondering, I haven't signed up for #14 yet.

PPS: If you want a good laugh, check out these race photos.

First International Marathon: Berlin Marathon 2015 Recap

I'm very much aware that the Berlin Marathon was two weeks ago. But I had to take my post-race vacation, travel halfway around the world (and adjust from the jet lag), process everything, and then put it all into something that sounds coherent. It takes time, people! Rome wasn't built in a day. (Nor can it be seen in a day. Trust me, I tried. Horrible travel planning on my part.)

So Berlin. I entered my name into the lottery last year on a whim, because the race was on my bucket list and "What did I have to lose?" I ended up getting a spot, and as luck would have it, Meredith ended up scoring a spot in the race too. Yay for finding out that other runner friends would be running the race!

Now to get from the Western US to Europe requires a long-ass flight, and I wasn't about to make that trek for a 4-5 day trip. So I decided to go to Italy after the race (because I've always wanted to go there), and with that, the marathon trip became a two-week European adventure. To top it off, my mom had planned her own trip to Italy for around the same time. So with a little adjusting, our trips overlapped. Germany with friends and Italy with family?? Woot!

But since you're reading this blog, you probably care more about the running portion of this trip, so that's what I'll discuss (at least first).

Training

As with my last few marathons, I used the Pfitzinger 55/12 plan (i.e., 12 weeks of training, with a peak weekly mileage of 55 miles). Everything (for the most part) about this training cycle just felt right. No, I'm not saying that this was the most amazing and perfect training cycle EVER. But compared to Boston and even previous marathons, it was great. So what went right?

Scheduling - With some help, I figured out that what works best for me for getting workouts done is to put them on my calendar at specific days and times. Given how type A I am and how much of a slave I am to my calendar, I'm kind of surprised I didn't figure this out sooner. But having someone else suggest it helped tremendously. As a result of that, I logged most of the required miles for my training plan.

Strength training - One of my friends at my now-previous job encouraged me to get a Groupon for 20 Crossfit classes. I know, I know -- I'm sure you've heard the rumors about crazy Crossfitters, and how this type of exertion can easily lead to injury. I capped my visits at about 1 per week, and scaled the workouts based on my capabilities (since my upper body strength is sorely lacking). Also, the workouts had a good amount of cardio (e.g., running, rowing), some leg stuff (e.g., squats), and circuit training, which could definitely be beneficial for running.

Nutrition - Between Boston and the start of this training, my focus on nutrition waned quite a bit. Gluten and dairy returned to my diet, and after weeks of that, I just wasn't feeling optimally. Around the time my training started, another friend mentioned that she was going to cut out gluten from her diet, which opened my eyes and made me think that I should get back on the wagon if I wanted to feel better. After making a more concerted effort to avoid those, I noticed that I had more energy, which definitely helped my workouts.

Workouts - I would be lying if I said that every single run was pleasant and delightful (like the 16 miles of hills I ran with Meredith two weeks before race day). But I had more good runs than bad, and I generally remained injury free. And my VO2 max workouts were way better than I would have expected (i.e., sub 6:00/mi pace for most intervals 1K and less).

Race Week

Because I was dealing with a 9 hour time difference and a 20+ hour journey, I decided to leave on Tuesday and arrive on Wednesday. Having 3-4 days to readjust seems reasonable, right? Well... we'll get to that in a moment.

I arrived on Wednesday evening, tired and very hungry. Doner sounded super tasty, so I opted for a doner salad with fries on the side. I was so hungry and tired that I didn't even bother asking if it were GF. (Their English seemed limited, and I had no idea how to ask about GF in German.)

After dinner, I went for a short walk, during which I seemed to gain a second wind. I contemplated visiting a bar for a drink, but I decided the responsible thing to do would be to go home and try getting some sleep. So I returned to my Airbnb around 9:30, popped some melatonin, and was asleep by 10:30.

I wasn't planning on meeting up with Meredith until about 2pm on Thursday, so I had all of Thursday morning to myself. So I went for a solo shakeout run, and found the Brandenburg Tor (the marathon finish line is about 500m from there), the Tiergarten, and a random riverfront path! Nice run.

Brandenburg Tor

Selfie!

River Path

Tiergarten

The search for a suitable breakfast afterward - not so nice. You see, a common German breakfast consists of coffee and a pastry. The coffee is obviously okay. The pastry is not. After checking out several places (and seriously considering just nixing the GF thing), I found a place that served a potato salad with some steamed veggies. Seemed safe enough.

Did some sightseeing, grabbed lunch (at a place that was advertising GF food!), and then met Meredith at her hotel. We then tried to find the expo. Apple Maps told me it was on the south side of the Tiergarten, and since we were on the east side, we just decided to walk there. Unfortunately, Apple Maps led us to the marathon press conference, which was nowhere near the expo. Navigation fail. I'm still surprised Meredith didn't kill me after that one. So we just cabbed it from there to the expo. While at the expo, we met up with Shokofeh and Keith, who Meredith had met during The San Francisco Marathon.

Friday morning, I prepped my race day breakfast while Meredith went for a short run, and then we met up at her hotel for breakfast. (She had a buffet breakfast for two included with her reservation, so I just played the role of plus-one.) Good options, though I definitely overloaded on smoked salmon. After that, we proceeded to do all of the sightseeing (Holocaust Memorial, Potsdamer Platz, etc), and walk all of the miles. In hindsight, it was too much walking. But live and learn.

Holocaust Memorial

Potsdamer Platz

The urban beach we found

Us at said beach

Checkpoint Charlie

Saturday could be summed up with "shake out run, buffet breakfast (with less smoked salmon), heaps of sightseeing, and pre-race dinner with fellow dailymiler Darren". But I would be remiss if I left out how Meredith and I grabbed liter bottles of still water, only to find out that they were still carbonated. Also, "bratwurst with no bread" apparently means that you should have two bratwursts.

East Side Gallery

Drink all the fluids!

Bratwurst no bread = two brats without bread?

Darren (right) and I

The Race

The race started at 9am, which ultimately meant that I didn't need to wake up at WTF o'clock (like with Santa Rosa). So I woke up at 5, putzed around and had my usual pre-race breakfast (millet porridge with dried fruit, and coffee). Around 6:30, I left to go meet Meredith at her hotel (which was super close to the start/finish line) for coffee and more food (and by food, I mean fruit). I think we ended up leaving there around 8ish (after a stop in her room, so I could drop off everything except my warm-up gear/post-race clothing).

Bag check was a shitshow, just because it wasn't clear how to get to the baggage area. Seriously, at least 15 other runners were confused at the same time as me. Again, I'm surprised Meredith didn't kill me for deciding to check items. (Thanks for your patience!)

By some good grace, we made it to bag check, through the bathroom line, and to the starting area before the gun went off. Of course, we ended up in start block H, and I was supposed to be in D. So I parted ways with Meredith (she was content in that block), and I dashed along the sides up to E, before saying, "This is fine." (Starting one corral back from your assigned one isn't so bad, right?)

The start seemed anticlimactic, but I think that's because they didn't play a national anthem (or maybe they did, and I just didn't notice/understand it). Before I continue this story, I should say that because this was an international marathon, mile markers were nowhere to be seen, and the marathon distance is only reported in kilometers. So instead of 26.2 miles, it's 42.195 km. Also, the water stations were set up based on kilometers. (Remember this. It'll come up later in the story.)

For the first few miles (or several kilometers), I just felt really bottlenecked. It was like a repeat of Boston, where the first 5 miles were wall-to-wall (or would it be curb-to-curb?) runners. I had to weave through quite a few people (since I was so worried they were going to keep me away from my goal time of 3:00).

Since most of these runners are from countries that use the metric system, they all had their watches set to km. So every 0.62 miles, I heard a chorus of beeps indicating a new lap. Marginally entertaining to hear beeping every 4-5 minutes.

I ended up settling into a zone early on. The good news about this was that I wasn't distracted by the other runners. The bad news was that I wasn't taking in the sights of the course. (From what I recall, it was a bunch of cute neighborhoods.) For the first half of the race, I was hitting my target splits, and everything seemed to be going fine. My usual fueling strategy is to take my first gel at mile 8, subsequent gels every 5 miles after that, and wash all gels down with water. Unfortunately, I had to adjust that (slightly on the fly) because the water stations were at specific kilometers and not miles. So somewhere around 12 km (between 7-8 mi), I saw a water station and took my first gel (salted caramel Gu). It was a little earlier than I would've liked, but given the circumstances, there wasn't much I could do. I told myself I'd take the next one whenever my watch said I was at 12-13 mi. So when I thought my watch said 12(ish) miles and I saw a water station, I sucked down my second gel (caramel macchiato Gu). As I was washing it down with water, I realized that I was only at 11(ish) miles. Fuck! Too early!

I recall my watch beeping for 13 miles at 1:29, because I thought, "Oh, I'm right on track for my goal." However, a half-marathon is 13.1 miles, and the official half-marathon marker was off in the distance. By the time I crossed that, my watch said 1:30:46 and 13.2-13.3 miles. At that point, my thought was, "Crap! I ran long, and now I'm off of my goal time."

Somewhere between here and mile 15, I could feel myself getting tired. All I could tell myself was, "No, this is too early to hit the wall." I grabbed some sports drink at the next aid station, and managed to keep trucking along until mile 17(ish), when it was time to take my third gel. I had a chocolate espresso Pocket Fuel gel, and even though I hadn't used that flavor before, I thought it'd be okay because I had used that brand. Plus, it had more caffeine than any gel I brought with me, so I just figured I'd suck it up and use it. Bad idea. This gel had the consistency of almond butter (i.e., way too thick), and immediately after finishing it and drinking some water, I felt like I had to shit. (Fortunately, I didn't have to stop for that.) I realized that I had dropped one of my gels, so when I spotted the PowerBar gel station around 30 km (or wherever it was), I grabbed a vanilla flavor gel. (It seemed like the most basic of the flavors.)

From here on out, I was giving it what I had, and focusing on nothing else except getting this race over with. I was still passing people, but by this point, my splits were above 7:00/mi. I knew that 32 km was roughly 20 miles, so I was looking for that marker so I could tell myself I just had 10 km left. Once I hit the 32 km marker, I decided to just count down kilometers. I figured it would be easy to do because I could see the markers. However, counting down from 10 instead of 6 just made it seem so. Much. Longer.

Somewhere during that 10 km march, it was time to take that vanilla gel. This gel was way too sweet. I could barely finish it, and the only reason I did was because I needed all the help I could get. Soon after that, I recall hitting the 38 km marker, and just telling myself, "Almost there, almost there..." It also helped that we had reached Potsdamer Platz, and for the first time since starting the race, I knew where in Berlin we were. At 41 km, I reminded myself of all of those 1 km repeats, and attempted to put it in the next gear. At 42 km, my watch read 3:03, and I just went as fast as I could to try to snag that BQ. I crossed the finish line, stopped my watch, saw that it said "3:05:16", and just said "Fuck!" I missed my A goal (sub-3), my B goal (PR/sub-3:01:41), and I missed qualifying for Boston by 16 SECONDS. At that point, I wanted nothing more than to reunite with Meredith, because I knew that as a runner, she would understand my frustrations. But until then, it was just time to smile for photos and revel in the fact that I finished marathon #12 and World Marathon Major #4.

Until I saw these photos, I had no idea I crossed the finish line making the "4" sign (for 4 majors)

4!

On my way out of the finisher area, I got my official time, which was 3:05:14. I actually missed qualifying by less than I thought! AND I ended up running an extra 0.2 miles. I was slightly more pissed at that point.

Post-Race 

When any marathon (good or bad) ends, there are two things that need to be dealt with. One is all of the emotions. You spend months training for this one event, and when it finally ends, there are bound to be some unexpected emotions that rise to the surface. The other is trying to extract all of the possible lessons you can learn from that particular marathon, so that you don't make the same mistakes again. I'm going to start with the emotional issues, and then hit the technical issues (partially because this is how I experienced them in Germany).

Emotional

When this race first ended, I honestly wanted to just forget it ever happened. I was in a zone for the first half, and hating life for the second half. And for the better part of both of those halves, I was ignoring everything and everyone around me. As a result, the three hours and five minutes I spent on the course are a giant blur. My most vivid memory is the last 1K, when I gave it everything that I had left in the tank and STILL came up short. Well, okay, that's my second most vivid memory. My most vivid memory is the heartbreak I felt after crossing the finish line, and simply wanting to drink all of the booze, eat none of the things, and commiserate with Meredith (because I know that as a runner, she would understand why I was disappointed).

After two weeks (one of which was my post-race vacation to Italy), I'm no longer wishing that the race didn't happen. But I'm still unsure how to describe Berlin. Aside from being my first international marathon and fourth major, there's nothing else notable about it in my mind. It's just the race that was. Between the months of training and the disappointing results, I just feel emotionally drained. And thinking about that makes me NOT want to sign up for another marathon. (However, not having one on the calendar to train for makes my running feel purposeless. It's a catch-22!)

To be honest, part of me still has these "What ifs" in my mind. Like, "What if my best days as a runner are behind me?" "What if I can't go faster than 3:01?" "What if I never qualify for Boston again?" Maybe I'm being a little dramatic, but I'm being honest here. And worse than having those thoughts is the fact that I have no idea how to silence them.

Technical

A good runner friend is one who will help you brainstorm (over some booze, of course) all of the possible reasons why your race didn't go according to plan. A great runner friend is one who, in the midst of this brainstorming, will point out all of the idiot/rooking mistakes that you made during your race. Meredith falls into the latter category.

Wine!

Post-race currywurst! (Now would be a good time to say that I had been itching to try that since I arrived)

More wine! (Because any good debrief requires multiple bottles)

Anyway, with her help, we came up with the following:

1. Too much walking in the days leading up to the race

2. Traveling and adjusting to a completely different time zone. Even though I arrived four days before the race, I hadn't had a night of quality, uninterrupted sleep between when I arrived and race morning. Also, at the risk of TMI, it took my GI system three days after traveling to normalize. Meredith's suggestion was to try targeting a hometown race. (Though after having run Portland twice, running the hometown race a third time has little appeal.)

3. The food I ate in the days leading up to the race. Given my issues, I should've conducted a "GF Berlin" search before I left Portland. But in classic Austin fashion, I assumed everything would work out and decided to wing it. Also, smoked salmon and bratwurst the day before the race would've probably only worked if I ate those foods on a regular basis. I also broke from my usual routine and had coffee and wine the night before the race. Maybe that had some impact?

4. Fueling strategy. I looked at the course map and knew that the water stations would be at specific kilometers, but I never adjusted my fueling strategy to say, "At kilometer x, I will take gel y." When I told Meredith this, she gave me that look of "What the hell were you thinking? No wonder why you were thrown off!"Another gem from this conversation:

Her: Did you even read the program?
Me: No, it was in German.
Her: There was an English section too!
Me: Oh.

Also, my last two gels were completely new to me. I broke the age-old adage of "Nothing new on race day!"

5. The kilometer conversion. This messed me up to an extent, specifically in the second half. It also messed up my fueling strategy too. (See #4)

6. My mental breakdown in the second half. This breakdown started when I couldn't brush off the fact that I was off of my goal pace at the halfway point. According to Meredith, I can hit my targets just fine in the first half (because I've run the first half of my last 4 marathons between 1:29 and 1:31), but the back is another story. Her idea was that I need to have a better idea of my target times in the back half (e.g., target at 20M).

With all of that feedback, I need to figure out how to incorporate it into my training and racing. Any thoughts? And/or do you have anything else to add?