When you read this blog title out loud, you must shout the last part- got it- it’s very important- that’s what I did when I hit that finish line and what good is a race report if the reader can’t put themselves in the race with the runner? Surfer’s (normal volume)…Path (a little louder)…RE-DEMP-TION (at full volume, a bit of growl in the voice, and both hands in the air as if hoisting a heavy two-handed sword)!
Last year at the 2015 Surfer’s Path- well, it was a difficult path. It was marathon #2 and it was one of the most disappointing race days I’ve had. I had run the first half with two great friends and was on top of the world. I headed into the second half alone, became bored, and lacking motivation to set a good time- and so the doldrums set in and I struggled from mile 16 on. Ten miles is a long time to struggle- putting one foot in front of another becomes a seemingly insurmountable chore. With my two friends done about two and a half hours previous they walked out onto the course to help me run in and they found me walking, defeated, and with little drive to finish strong. Like all good friends to remind you of your lowest points, Tim reminded me this year of, “remember when you sat down on the course with a half mile left and didn’t want to get up!” (Ha- I had completely blocked that from my memory!) So I ended that day and race less than my best but perhaps it was a race that was put there as a lesson to learn from- a speed-bump to overcome. I had no drive, no direction, no impetus, no good REASONS for running that race well. This year would be different. This year I would run strong. Last year would be made the anomaly- now I have a REASON.
I went into Surfer’s Path 2016 much better trained, mentally stronger, and the reason of redemption firmly set in my mind. I also headed into the race with the ally of Michael Zozos (whose Surfer’s Path 2015 had been his first half-marathon and would make SP2016 his first full- what a year!) whose boundless enthusiasm and first timer’s cautious jitters fueled my own race. As with last year, we set out at a conservative pace to not overextend ourselves in the first half. We head out east from the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk which kicks of the start, serves as the half-marathon finish, marathon half-way point, and ultimate marathon finish, towards Capitola Village. Luckily this bow-tie course easily divides itself into four quarters- out to Capitola and back- then out to Wilder Ranch and back- This serves as a great way to break up the miles and hours.
We head out East Cliff Drive on the most “urban” part of the course starting at sea level then climbing up 50-70 feet up to cliff level in a pretty regular climb-dip-climb repetition. While the climbs are not the least bit difficult- the variety of the course does result in slower overall times for both the half and full marathons (The marathon winner only put up a 2:54 marathon time). In addition the the rolling nature of the first half- many of the roads have a steep camber that makes smooth running a bit challenging. As per usual I had to make a relatively early bathroom stop to expunge the morning coffee and let Zozos run ahead. I kicked it up a bit to catch up with him and put up my fastest splits of the race in the first quarter (not sound strategy) but I made sure that even though they were faster splits that they were comfortable and would not dip too far into my energy reserves. Instead of hitting the gas and attempting to catch him in a mile or two, I crept up on him over the course of about four miles, meeting up with him again at the bottom of the descent into Capitola Village and the first turn around. Eagle eyed Zozos spotted out buddy Tim at the turnaround with his young son Connor in a Baby Bjorn- Tim jogged along with us for 100 yards or son cheering us on. Later he would tell us that in typical Santa Cruz fashion- some ‘holier than thou’ mom had chided him for letting Connor’s head bounce around too much and that he could have seriously hurt Connor. Tim’s ‘mind your own business’ response: “Second Kid- what can you do?” First quarter of the race done.
Heading back to the mid-point was fairly uneventful. Now it was Zozos’ turn to hit the head around the famous surf spot of Pleasure Point. I did my best to keep a steady pace for him and he caught up in fewer miles allowing us to run together into the half way point back at the Boardwalk. He we saw Tim again (evidently he is either a telweporter or there was no traffic) and my family along with another friend who’s now a local Santa Cruzer. Seeing so many supporters at the midpoint really fueled my fire and sent me off into the tougher second half with supportive fuel for my fire!
The third quarter of the race is my favorite part. After the half, the two thousand and change participants drops down to only over three hundred marathoners. It runs to the west along West Cliff drive- a two and a half mile stretch that I used to run in college and then out past Natural Bridges State Beach to the bluffs of Wilder Ranch. There, the race actually goes off road and becomes a pseudo trail race. Miles 19-21 snake along dirt trails overlooking the cliffs and inaccessible beaches- one small section even does a strange little loop around a horse pasture (maybe that’s the .2). In this section is where Zozos left me to run ahead. Younger, springier, and honestly naturally more talented he began to run his own race and actually to my relief I was now able to run my own. Severing our first half tie, allowed us to settle into our own races at on our own terms. Now on my own I head into the section where my race fell apart at mile 16. Last year I was deep in the dark parts of my soul while this year this is where my strong pace started to drop off a bit. The ruts of the trail that I had to navigate or twist an ankle really put a cramp in my pace- and once it drops it’s hard to get back. Still though I felt much stronger through this section than last year and soaked in the beauty.
The home stretch retraces section three back along West Cliff. Back on the roads and path I started to do the math of whether I could PR. Mile 23 and 24 I was able to kick it back into gear and get my pace back under a nine minute mile that it had dropped to out on the dirt and larger hills. I guess the effort at the tail end of the race plus struggling with nutrition (I could barely down my last gel at mile 20 or so) I began to feel a bit dizzy and sick. I soldiered on until the dizzyness overtook me. Out on this part of the course the path alongside the cliffs is open to the public so marathoners and sea gazing walkers coexist alongside each other. In my haze I past by two elderly folks speed walking with trekking poles (a bit of an odd sight). I veered in front of them and heaved over the railing the last bit of water/sports drink I had taken in at the last aid station. I must have surprised the couple as they passed me as the woman let out a surprised “Oh my!” Sometimes puking makes one feel better- and while the hurl helped a bit, really the willpower to finish was what propelled me forward. And that will did propel me past that surprised couple again (“Is that the man who was ‘watering the flowers’!”) and on towards the finish.
I keep saying this- but what a difference a year makes. From literally sitting down on the course and not wanting to move to puking on the course and pushing on- the difference was made through will. Even though the body couldn’t keep up as fast as I would have liked, the spirit was willing. No PR was in the cards in the end but I still revel in the huge improvement on last year’s performance with a course best of 3:54:06 (Compared to last year’s 4:23:11- about a 30 minute improvement!) Ultimately, the main goal was met: If you can’t PR, you can still fulfill your reasons for running a race- and that reason of REDEMPTION echoed off the sand, surf, and cliffs at the finish line.
chasingmarathon 