Erin Go Run

Mile 23   split: 7:45   marathon time: 2:57:28

Still running with Cass, she kept trying to motivate me/ coach me. It was frustrating at points because she obviously didn’t understand my fatigue, but I love that she was helping me. There wasn’t much happening throughout this mile, except that I kept telling myself that I only had a measly little 5K left to run (and you all only have one more post to read about this danged marathon).

Mile 24   split: 7:37   marathon time: 3:05:06

You all know as well as I that when I have the opportunity to brag about a performance or myself, I am surely going to take it. Like I mentioned before, we had personalized bibs, so as I ran by the crowds, they were able to cheer for us by name. Running with Cass (and as you can see by the split time, quite impressively), spectators would cheer me on, and congratulate me on my performance: “Wow, Erin! You look so strong!” “Erin, you look great! Almost there!” “You are looking amazing!” I could keep going, but I will spare you.

Mile 25   split: 7:41   marathon time: 3:12:48

Earlier in the race, when I began to believe for myself that I might actually have a great race, there was a man that had written all over his upper torso “3:20 Follow Me to Boston.” Back then, I was doubtful that I would have this kind of race. And he ended up speeding (not literally) off ahead, which made things seem realistic at the time that 3:20 would be but a dream for me. But alas, as I was running alone again here in mile 25, I approached this man who was struggling a bit. While I didn’t have the courage to pump him up and motivate him to finish up with me, I whispered under my breath, here we go, 3:20, let’s do this.

Mile 20    split: 7:46   marathon time: 2:34:19

If you read back in my blog a few miles (mile 2, to be exact), you’ll read about two gentlemen that I happened to be running alongside who made claims on their brilliant marathon strategy, the race starts at mile 20… As I approached this mile, I thought of those two and, of course, in my cockiness blurted in my head, Mile 20, huh? Where are you now!? I never really got a good look at who they were or what they were even wearing, so I wouldn’t have known if they were in fact beginning to race, stopped and walking, or where they were in relation to me (for all I know they could have been right next to me). Although I got a good whiff of their sweat back at mile 2, it wasn’t enough to determine which of these fools running with me now were really them. For their own sake, I hope they were able to live up to their strategy.

Mile 21   split: 7:42   marathon time: 2:42:01

Anyone that has run the San Diego Rock and Roll Marathon before very well knows that miles 21 through about 24 are possibly the worst; not physically, but mentally. Not only are there NO fans (except the bums and seagulls that sleep in the filth we call the San Diego River), but there is no shade and at one point you can see the runners that are about a mile in front of you and two miles in front of you at the same time (more on that later). I was approaching this mile with the best of intentions; to get through it. Right before the 21 mile marker, you have to weave through some pitiful plywood boards that have idiotic symbols on it that are supposed to replicate “Yay! Keep running, idiots, doing great, even though you are crazy!” in “Egyptian” as if you are in a maze at Coney Island. You are so pissed off by this, more so than your legs for being tortured so, that you almost want to take the water from the “pharaohs” and throw it back in their face.

But to my surprise, these stupid boards were like the winning door, that once I passed them, there was none other than my very own Cass!!! Thinking she was just cheering again, I ran by her to give her a high five; but instead of reciprocating, she began to run with me. She ended up running with me until mile 25, helping me through the worst parts of the race. She kept saying how well I was doing and how strong I looked. I just kept thanking her for running and for being with me through the tough part… I haven’t seen her in ages, and wished that this was just another practice that we got to spend chit chatting, but I think she knew that I was on record pace, so she just ran alongside of me… helped me through.

Mile 22   split: 7:41   marathon time: 2:49:43

Like I said before, the worst part of the race is when you can see the people 1 and 2 miles ahead of you; lucky bastards, almost done…. As you turn from Sea World Drive onto Friars, you get the privilege of rocking out to one of the bands, but then you get the unfortunate task of having to see the hundreds of people turning back onto Sea World drive (to the Mile 23 marker). What does this mean? That you have to pointlessly run down Friars, possibly the most boring and scary road in all of San Diego, for half of a mile and then make a sharp U-turn (which also makes your legs burn like a bladder infection). This isn’t even the worst part. Just when you are about to make the U-turn, you look up to the band to rock out a little bit more, but instead get pissed at the sight of runners already on the Pacific Coast Highway, approaching Mile 24…. Damn you all, and your running talent. Turning around, you huff and puff past the next water station and then right before you turn off of the wretched Friars road, you look left and kind of chuckle at the runners just entering into the Hell you were in, but quickly sympathize and move on.   

Mile 17    split: 7:34   marathon time: 2:11:15

My inner monologue: Oh mile 17. How I hated you last year. Why it was just upon these very streets that I experienced my weakest moments. Calf pain, dragging my fat ass across the bridge, only to smell the reek of Mission Bay and my race. It was a sad time last year, but my how I have grown. So miserable, so lonely, so little confidence. What a year it has been though. (I continue pinpointing random low moments within the last year). I am grateful for my time right now, Thank you, God. You were there with me always, helping me grow and learn, and suffer. Keep me strong, help me to get through this….

… this is where I saw Alicia last year. In my sad state. Thank goodness that isn’t me anymore. Those pictures were so horrible. 

Mile 18    split: 7:42   marathon time: 2:18:58

From the sidelines (I found out afterwards that they were yelling this at runners behind me):

“You are losing to a drunk girl!”

Mile 19    split: 7:34   marathon time: 2:26:32

A few paces down the PB/Crown Point stretch is none other than my very own Lil B, his friend Millie, and an ex teammate Steve.  I ran by in excitement, ready to high five everyone (“high Five”) and shout “record time, guys! Record time!” Steve joined me for a few paces, but that was short lived as I had been holding some pee in for approximately 19 miles. I took a 20 second timeout at the port-o-potty, but not without debating whether to keep my time running or not… of course, I stopped it since I wanted to get my “true running time.” Turns out I not only had the race of my life, but also the pee of my life too; 20 seconds (I figured that out from the discrepancy between my chip time and watch time).

Mile 14    split: 6:44   marathon time: 1:48:28

Running along my merry little way, I started into the area of the race where I was running alone with not many fans around to cheer for me. However, we did have personalized bib numbers, so people were able to cheer for yours truly by name. A couple people shouted for me as I ran by, and one little girl even commented about how fast I was running. Thank you, girl. I was mid-mile when I came up to a camera man that was shooting pictures of the race that would later be sold. Unlike I normally do in races, I looked directly at them, smiled, and waved. These photo ops are typically used to make a bad race look good. No matter what stance you are in, the main goal is to have your photo taken slightly from the side. That way any rolls that are flapping around look a little bit more stretched out, your stride looks impeccable, as no one can really tell what point in the stride you are in.

Not today, though. I was waving and flailing all around, trying to add attention to my race. I didn’t care how my fat looked; I just wanted everyone to know how fast I looked.

Mile 15    split: 7:37   marathon time: 1:56:05

Somehow my sense of time got taken off its kilter because as I scanned the clock and punched in my split, I somehow thought it was only 8am and that my friends wanting to watch me in a couple of miles I told not to be there until at least 8:30. I even told them that was early, and I might not even be there for a while (remember, back at the beginning of the race I thought I was going to have a super slow super shitty race). I spent a good portion of the mile worrying that I would not see them. This made me sad, as I haven’t had anyone present to watch me at a race since my parents in college. At one point, I even asked myself if I should slow down so that I wouldn’t pass through those miles before they got there. Of course, that was short lived as I started making up funny little quips to excuse myself when they were pissed at me afterwards; “Sorry guys, I was running so fast, I didn’t even realize that I would have gone through that point so quickly”… and that was even more short-lived when I looked at the real-time on my watch and realized it was already 8:30 and I wouldn’t see them for another 3 miles.

Mile 16   split: 7:35    marathon time: 2:03:41

 LezzBizzle!!!!! Right before the start of the race, my old Jamba Lesbian friend (she hates when I make the obvious even more obvious) called and told me that she was handing out water at mile 16. I figured I was going to be running a stupid race, I could stop and chat with her; or at least let her try to make a move on me (in running tights I like to think of myself as irresistible). But as I was in the midst of a record-breaking time, I thought I would still have time to stop to give my other fans a chance to settle in at mile 18 and 19. On the contrary, one cannot stop at such a point. I was coming up to the water station and started looking out for a boyish looking girl by clothes, little doll face with rosy cheeks (yes lezbizz, your cheeks are rosy and feminine). I saw the perfect candidate and as I was approaching, she started to cheep pretty loud. I raised my hands as if I was, for the first time, finishing a race and almost began screaming lesbian obscenities (its allowed, this was not my typical race)…..

…. And suddenly realized that that wasn’t Lezbizz; it was a lesbian. Stupidly, and finally in this race humbly, I lowered my arms and continued running; searching, where is she, where is she….

…Lezbizz!! As I snatched (no pun intended) water from her hands, she told me I was a rockstar and I smiled and said I know. And that was lezbizz….

Mile 13    split: 7:38   marathon time: 1:40:52

Normally or traditionally, I would try and sing Bon Jovi’s famous song “Ohhhhh, we’re halfway there… Wooahh OH! Living on a prayer” as I crossed the line and then memorized my half marathon time. But if you have even remotely been following this race, you know as well as I that this race was different. Passing the 13 mile mark definitely felt good because I knew I was halfway done. BUT…. Crossing the line at 1:40 put me on a whole new playing field. If I kept going at the same pace, which I didn’t want to promise myself, I was going to run a record setting time. It was at this point in the race when my fear of crashing disintegrated and I finally gained confidence in running a great race. There are not many moments in a runner’s life that are as motivating or inspirational as this (at least not during competition); usually it is fear that pushes you. 

Mile 13.1   split: 00:51      Marathon time: 1:41:43

This is technically my half-point. Still, it’s fast. On pace and loving it!

Mile 10   split: 8:07   marathon time: 1:18:03

I might have talked myself into fainting like Bryan so much that I made myself dizzy. In a car, when you look at the road on a freeway, you see thin lines as if the highway was recently raked. Well, seeing them in slower motion and on foot does not make it any easier. I was caught in between the option of running dizzily as I was looking down on the freeway or running on the shoulder which is at a slant and could possibly ruin the race of my life. I chose to run in the slow lane, but far enough over that looking lightly to my left would rid my peripheral of the hypnotizing freeway lines. A bit of a struggle, but not nearly as dizzy.

Mile 11   split: 7:22   marathon time: 1:25:26

You’ll notice that I did not say anything about my previous mile time. Not sure exactly what held me back. It was a gradual hill, but not enough to make me run one out of the only two miles over 8 minutes. BUT, if you look at this mile, I think I more than make up for the time. This mile time marks the fastest mile of the race; not bad. It was in this mile (not sure why because this mile is the most uninteresting part of San Diego) that I reflected back on the Dublin marathon. I thought about running through the city streets that Dublin residents probably didn’t give two sh—s about but had me in awe and disbelief. It made me wonder if anyone was running this race with those same thoughts right now. While even San Diego residents can enjoy many picturesque parts of this race, it is definitely not going to be on the southbound 163. Nevertheless, I am sure there are some that did.

Mile 12   split: 7:47   marathon time: 1:33:13

Finally off the freeway, we turned into Fashion Valley where I got to reflect back on my old stomping grounds from my USD days. To the right was the Jamba Juice that I spent many hours of my young life at. Turning left, I was approaching the dreaded mall that was always flooded with frustrating traffic during any holiday season. Doo do do doo, running along, basking in my past, who should appear but one of the best parts of it; Cass! Cassandra Chavez waved and cheered me on, fueling my second wind and energizing me even more than I already was. I waved and kept running on; excited to see such a close (former) teammate.

Little bit about Cass: Cassandra Chavez was one of our top runners at University of San Diego. Each year, she not only improved her performance in each and every race, but she inspired all of her teammates to run like they meant it. Her senior year especially, Cassandra had the best season of her life while overcoming personal obstacles. But she never let those get in the way of her giving it her all, every time. If I had to sum Cassandra up in one sentence, it would be: she gave all of her heart and energy into each and every mile, each and every step, and in each and every person. 

Mile 4  split: 7:28   marathon time: 30:59

The fourth mile was still packed; hundreds of people were running with me. As people were trying to weave in and out of people, a couple of old sweaty men managed to pass me and rub their sweaty arms on mine…. Ugh! I didn’t want to wipe it off, cause I didn’t want to touch their sweat juices. So instead I had to embrace it and let it air dry…. Meanwhile, some girl comes shooting out of the mass of runners and finds the most central bush. Instead of running behind the bush to gain some privacy, she pops a squat right front blank for the thousands to see and starts peeing. Times like this I feel nothing but pity for women, as many of them do not have the luxury of using a P-Mate. 

This brings me back to the one time in my running career that I peed during a race. It was only a 5k, so I really don’t have an excuse… minutes before the start of the race I had mentioned to my teammate that I had to pee. She insisted that it was just nerves. In the last mile of the race, there was a large downhill. With every step that I took, there was a little bit of leakage. Every step. And I was on record pace, so it’s not like I could slow down, you know? Coming around to the home stretch, fans would cheer for me, and as their heads turned to follow me down the runway, their cheers of “Go Erin! Go Temecula!” turned into laughs, and points (or I assume they were, but I was obviously looking forward).

This girl had no shame in peeing in front of everyone. It wasn’t even a girly pee. It was coming out strong. What surprises me the most is that she even still had to pee. As she ran by us, you couldn’t help but look at her pants because they were wet; from peeing in them.

Mile 5   split: 7:46   marathon time: 38:45

Running through downtown now, there are more fans out cheering on the streets. This is one of the coolest parts of a marathon. They bring their yells, claps, bells, and best of all, their signs. My favorite sign in this marathon was seen here, in mile 5 of the race, reading:

“Think of all the gas $$ you are saving right now”

Creative really, and best of all it helps you to smile during an intense race and to focus your attention on something else. Also motivating in this mile was a man on a megaphone shouting inspirational words to us. “Great job” “conserve your energy” “calm your breathing” Calm it!? Are you kidding me?? Dot com! How exactly do you do that in a 26 mile race? But apparently this guy knows; according to other racers, he is a motivational life coach with 20,000 followers.

Mile 6   split: 7:46   marathon time: 46:32

By mile 6, I started scaring myself. We were still in the midst of Downtown and my pace was still quite fast. I was afraid I was going to burn out like I did last year, or in the La Jolla Half. This was probably the most doubtful and negative mile, and luckily it did not last for very long. I kept telling myself that I wasn’t going all out, and if it came down to it, I had less than 20 miles to run. Once you get past Downtown, it’s just a loop around the bay. 

Mile 2  split: ~7:23  marathon time: (didn’t clock the split)

While I missed the mile marker amongst the thousands of people around me, I know I somehow managed to run under 7:30 for the second mile. I found myself focusing on the conversations around me, as they were mostly about the different strategies on how to tackle the marathon. My favorite one was that of a conversation between two gentlemen running at what seemed to be their set race pace. They sensed me behind them and parted ways to let me by. As I passed, they were commenting on the large crowds and at one point said “I am a firm believer that the race doesn’t start until mile 20.” I thought about this and wondered how such an idea could be possible. Many arguments came to mind, but mostly I thought, What if mile 20 is too late?

Mile 3   split: ~8:04  marathon time: 23:30

Whether it was the adrenaline from the start of the race or the coffee still working its way through my bloodstream, I had to force myself not to get ahead of myself. I thought of previous races when I or a fellow runner had run too fast because they “felt good.” It is hard to say that without a retrospective doubt ringing through my ears. Sure you feel good three miles into the race, but you keep this up for 23 more miles, you are in for something else. So I pulled back a little bit, and tried to scope out someone that seemed to be at my caliber that might entertain my thoughts, even if we didn’t exchange any words. That distracted me enough through the mile that I began to think how quickly this race was going by… ironic, huh?

The winds were with me that day, as I embarked on the best marathon of my life to date. As discouraged as I was from the La Jolla Half Marathon (stopping twice, finishing slower than I had hoped), I never expected to run as I did. The preparations made for this race had been the same as those of my wild college days; drinking, little sleep, little running. The only difference is that I am in nowhere near as good a shape as back then and that my body can’t handle the same carelessness as before.

Previously that week, I had discussed various components of the race with co-worker Gaia, and the possible effects they could have on our performance. I had also tried as hard as I could to not make a time goal for myself, in order to save any possible joy at the finish line. These race factors included coffee/caffeine beforehand and the fact that I would be celebrating my birthday the day before with an annual Beer Pong tournament. So, as expected, I maintained a buzz until about 10pm and then stayed up until past 3am. Then, getting an hour-and-a-half of sleep, made some coffee and headed for the race…..

… the race of my life (to date). Finishing with a clock time of 3:22:09, I came in 455th place (out of about 16,500), 56th female, and 12th in my age division. And for your reading pleasure, I am going to break up the marathon into miles so that you can all experience a thrilling performance vicariously through mine. Enjoy…

Mile 1  split: 8:05 marathon time: 8:05

Mentally preparing for this race was not done as I typically do… I was mentally preparing for another SD rock and roll defeat. Waking up after my nap (hour and a half sleep) and drinking coffe were the first things. I managed to beat traffic and the porto potty lines. After those, I felt like, maybe I will have a good race? But then quickly diverted any positive thoughts into Stop worrying about it, just run. And so I did. I maintained a steady pace and took in the excitement of other runners around me as I began taking off from corral #3. Just cruise Erin, maintain this- it’s gonna be a long run.