Santa Rosa Marathon

Every marathon morning begins with a wake-up call: a series of alarms set to ensure I make it to the starting line on time. This morning's marathon alarm was an hour early and involved violent shaking of everything in the room. By the time I found the light switch some thirty seconds later, it had stopped. Situated twenty miles from the epicenter, there would be few impacts an early morning earthquake had on my race day (we would later be evacuating from our post-run restaurant because they just discovered a related gas leak).

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The extra hour proved to be useful as I gave myself more time to get to the start. Even though it was just two miles from my hotel, several road closures forced me to navigate the back roads in a town I didn't know well. I arrived at several dead ends in the span of half an hour. Eventually, I decided to park near one of the barricaded streets which (yay!) just happened to be two blocks from the start. Free parking and no long line into the garage at the mall. It was perfect.

Start and finish was here, Julliard Park. Photo taken on a long run in Jan 2011.

I found my place at the start and wished my running club buddies, Chris, Caroline, and Lanore good luck. I took one last gulp of water from my disposable bottle and the race began.

The first few miles meandered through downtown Santa Rosa. Since it was still dark, the brightly lit city streets made for adequate lighting and I didn't fall once. I saw two people, about thirty seconds apart, trip over the same manhole cover. What a way to start the race.

Mile 1-3 (didn't see signs, running in dark): 23:59

I caught up to the 3:30 pace group and stayed with them as we filtered onto the Santa Rosa Creek Greenway Trail. The narrow paved path made for some bottlenecks. Runners within this tight pack elbowed me out of the way. My natural pace didn't match their ebbs and flows so I sneaked ahead and ran a little in front of them. Since they had started a full twenty seconds before me (I started near the 3:40 pace group), I knew this would provide the small cushion I wanted on this slightly downhill section. I wasn't feeling especially energetic, so the thought of letting them drive was appealing. In fact, my biggest goal for the day was to skip the med tent. I wanted to leave the rest of the day up to fate.

Mile 4: 7:56
Mile 5: 7:57
Mile 6: 7:55
Mile 7: 7:58 (3 Shot Bloks)
Mile 8: 7:52

During the week leading up to this race, I fought with a trigger point in my right shoulder. For the first few miles, I found my arm tightening up. Dropping my arm to my side seemed to relieve it momentarily, but it never went away. Thankfully, it never got worse or restricted movement.

The course then moved to country roads alongside vineyards and small farms. Horses ran wildly around their pasture, probably to offer their own racer encouragement. The roadway was uneven with many patches, but it was just like the country roads I train on at home and I found my legs instinctively gravitating to the spots with the best footing.

Mile 9: 8:07 (salt tab)
Mile 10: 7:56

At the aid station near mile 9, I struggled to open the small craft bag pinned to my shorts that held each salt tab. I pulled off to the side of the road to fight with the bag, eventually tearing a hole in it large enough to squeeze the pill out. I willed myself to stay calm and repeated, "You may lose a few seconds here, but it's better than losing a few minutes later in the race with a major bonk." This would become my mantra as I took more and more time at subsequent aid stations. And that safety pin that held the bag to my shorts? It got stuck to my glove and I spent the next few miles with it pinned to my left thumb. One thing to work out for next time, I suppose.

You can see the bags in this photo.

We made a trip through the race's title sponsor's barrel room, decorated with glowing twinkle lights for the occasion. This was intended to be a highlight of the race, but I was unimpressed. I more enjoyed the rest of the course. Peaceful country roads provided more of the race experience I was looking for. It was beautiful.

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Mile 11: 7:59
Mile 12: 7:58 (3 Shot Bloks)
Mile 13: 8:10

Taken at the expo on Saturday.

The next few miles included some rolling hills. None of them were very big, but they were enough to make finding my cruising rhythm a bit difficult. I was surprised and slightly alarmed to reach the halfway point in 1:44. A little bit of mental cheerleading calmed me down. "You're supposed to be this tired right now. Relax." I felt the tension drain from my shoulders as I continued on. I remembered a bit of advice my blog friend, Robert, had given: "You train on some big hills. This course is perfect for you." Yes Karen, your legs like rolling hills better. This is just like your home training route.

Mile 14: 8:02
Mile 15: 8:00 (Gu)

I found myself running the majority of this race on feel. It was oddly liberating. I had done some thinking about my most recent best paced marathon (Two Cities, in 2011) and realized that my success came from trusting myself and not being afraid of the numbers my watch recorded.

Mile 16: 7:55
Mile 17: 7:50
Mile 18: 8:17 (Salt tab)

At mile 18's aid station, I struggled with the plastic bag again. I asked a volunteer if he could open it for me. I was slightly comforted to know it wasn't just my gloves that were giving me trouble. It wasn't enough to simply leave the zipper closure unsealed, I'd have to cut them off next time to improve access.

Mile 19: 8:11 (Gu)
Mile 20: 7:56

Now back on the Greenway path, I prepared for the long, gradual climb to the finish line. I felt the descent on the way out, but barely realized the return trip's climb. I focused on passing the half marathoners with whom I was sharing the course. The mental boost from passing so many people (I passed the 12:12/mi pacer, too) was encouraging even though I knew they were going so much slower. I passed a few struggling marathoners that had breezed past me in the last few miles too.

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Mile 21: 8:05 (inhaler)
Mile 22: 8:15 (salt tab)

I arrived at mile 22 surprised that I was already there. Somewhere in the last ten miles, I had found my happy pace and set the cruise control. I had reached a level of relaxed that felt meditative, not something I normally experience during a race.

Mile 23: 8:03
Mile 24: 8:28 (Gu and triple fistin' the water)
Mile 25: 8:16

I hit mile 23 as butterflies rose in my stomach. Only 5K left! Most of the time, I can tell if I'll have a strong finish by my reaction to the idea of 5K remaining. Either I think it sounds like an eternity or it sounds easy. This run, I was happy to notice it was the latter.

While I passed even more half marathon runners, I realized I was trailing another marathon runner, keeping nearly the same pace I was. I locked onto her pace and matched my footfalls to hers. We traded the lead through the better part of the last five miles. She told me her watch had broken that morning and she was running on feel. She was surprised when I told her we were pretty close to a 3:30 finish.

Mile 26: 8:31

When we left the bike path for a final small loop on city streets, I realized where we were. Almost done! For the first time in many miles, I looked at my watch at the 26 mile marker and was again surprised it read 3:29. I could practically crawl to the finish line and make it under 3:35, but found I didn't need to. My buddy through the last 10K called out to me, the excitement in her voice matching that inside me, "C'mon, let's kick!" Even though my kick didn't amount to anything much faster than I was already going, I drained my body of all its remaining energy as I picked up the pace.

Mile 26-finish: 1:41 (7:48/mi.)

I heard Robert call out excitedly, "Go Karen!!!!" as I ran past him waiting just before the finish chute. Then I crossed the line five minutes faster than I have in any previous marathon.

3:31:25
8:04/mi.
F25-29: 13th (in my 13th marathon)
and my very first Boston Qualifying Time!

Perfect weather, too!

As I waited in the finish line food area, I thought about what had just happened. I felt myself gasp and choked back tears. I couldn't believe it. After several near misses, I had finally broken 3:35, and not in a just-squeaked-under sort of way: I beat my goal by over 3.5 minutes!

Caroline found me soon after as I grabbed a handful of watermelon. "We're going to Boston!!" she exclaimed excitedly. Nothing could wipe that crazy grin off our faces. Robert found me as we left the finish area. He helped carry me to the med tent at the marathon in May. This time it was a congratulatory hug.

Soon Lanore and Chris finished. In a swirl of too many endorphins, we had a group hug and had a nice policeman take our picture. Even though Matt wasn't able to come to the race, their support more than made up for it! I loved being able to share this moment with my running club buddies.

Me, Chris, and Lanore. C. Hamer photo.

That evening I drove home flying high on a delightful mix of endorphins, euphoria, and caffeine. I jumped out of the car and into Matt's waiting arms. "I guess we have our spring marathon planned out for us, huh?" he said, a sassy tone in his voice. "I suppose we do," I replied.