Pasadena Marathon – Race Report
My day began at 4:00 AM while a bit of rain was still coming down. The weather report however spoke of post-rain clouds, 48 degrees at 6:00 AM (the gun goes off at 7:00 AM) rising through to 55 degrees by 9:00 AM and 62 by noon. So though it was a wet start to the day by the time my multi-grain cereal and banana were starting their trip down digestion lane the rain was already fading away. A bit of light static stretching, some anxiety, a cup of decaf coffee, a dash of excitement, constant sipping of water, a momentary feeling of dread, and multiple trips to the bathroom…from what I understand a pretty typical beginning to one’s first marathon. :-)
One major benefit to making the Pasadena Marathon my first marathon is that the start/finish line is just a mile from home. So 60 minutes before the gun my love and I gathered up my gear and headed out for a nice easy walk (and pre-race warm-up all in one) to the event. Along the way we passed the 1 mile mark water station and saw the volunteers frantically filling hundreds of dixie cups across the 4 tables set up on either side of the road. It was great to be able to walk to the marathon, not having to worry about traffic or parking or anxiety on the road. Arriving at the start I felt good, and relaxed, and was truly looking forward to what the race would bring forth. I checked my bag (after race dry/warm clothes and good food stuffs) and then got in line for one last bathroom stop. While waiting I texted T to try and locate her in the crowds so we could meet up in the start corral.
I’ve been running with T at least one day a week since May 2008. In the past 10 months we’ve become serious training partners as we both targeted Pasadena. She was looking to significantly increase her fitness level going into this her 19th marathon, while I was starting from nearly zero after injury sidelined me from my first attempt at the Pasadena Marathon. Since April of 2009 we’ve trained together for three to four runs a week, with very few exceptions. I learned a lot from T, and as we entered the final months before the race she was clear with me that her goal for Pasadena was to help me complete my first marathon. I could not have asked for a better teacher…a better mentor…a better friend.
Bathroom stops over my love and I met up with T and we all made our way to the starting coral. Because Pasadena is only two years old, still growing and still working out some of the organization, the start for the Marathon and Half Marathon are combined together and there is not yet the concept (or need) for separate corals for staggered starts. Colorado Blvd in front of Pasadena City College, two traffic lines on a side plus parking lanes, was swarming with bodies of all shapes and sizes and abilities, all mingling together and milling about waiting for the start. We took the requisite photo opportunities while waiting, chanced into other running friends we haven’t seen in months, and got ourselves ready as the PA began the countdown to the start. The gun goes off and it’s a quick kiss goodbye to my love as we begin the surge down the street. We were less than 200 yards from the starting line but when the crowd started to move we stayed relaxed and I reminded myself/us that we needed to run our own race, so it took nearly four minutes for us to actually cross the line and register our chips on course.
The course begins with a hard left turn only one block after the start, and there was a lot of bunching up and crowding. But we kept our heads and our pace and just moved easily, gently and s-l-o-w-l-y, avoiding most of the bumps and bustle of those pressing forward to soon. I was consciously proud of how well managed I started as in all previous races the adrenaline and excitement has always carried me away too fast too soon, but today I was controlled. We were running familiar ground as we trained on this route many, many times, and knew every twist and turn and slippery manhole cover and pothole. When we passed the first mile mark and the water station I looked over to the right and down the street and gave my house a mental wave; it is simply amazing to be running a race such as the marathon in your own neighborhood. Another sharp turn…no problem, we know this course…hello Peet’s Coffee and Noah’s Bagels…coming up on the edge of San Marino…another sharp turn…
The first significant dispersal came around 2 miles, along the Glenarm Ave stretch. Spaces begin to appear a bit more between runners and there was less jostling to get around others as you passed them, but it was still quite crowded on the road. Hey, look over there! That’s @Elizabeth C. doing the Half Marathon as part of her LA Marathon training. “How’s it going Elizabeth? Good to see you. Gotta run, bye.” Not until we were most of the way up Marengo Ave and approaching the turn for City Hall did it begin to feel open. It was somewhere between miles 3 and 4, on Marengo Ave, where my right hip first let me know what the day had in store for me. It only lasted a micro-second, a portion of a single step, the muscles in my right hip gave out and collapsed. If I hadn’t been in motion and running I likely would have fallen over, but in this case momentum kept me going until my left was under me and by then the hip was back to normal. Yet it had made itself known and caught my attention with its intentions. Push it aside and move on….
It was great fun to run down Colorado Blvd and through old town, not a car on the road and none of the shops yet open, along the same path the Rose Parade floats travel every year. Turning South down Orange Grove Blvd we had 3/4 of mile of relaxed descent before turning again, West on California Blvd, for 1/4 of mile with a sudden 100 foot decrease in elevation. We ran up Arroyo Blvd, beside the Arroyo and the sounds of the wildlife within coming to life this morning. If one was quick they could catch signs of critters in the bushes next to the road…never mind, that’s a runner who couldn’t wait for the porta potty.
We dropped down from above the Arroyo as we entered Brookside Park and the environs of the Rose Bowl. Hey, that’s @Elizabeth C. again. How’d she get back in front of us?! There’s the Aquatics Center on the right, and where both The Pasadena Pacers and Korean Area Runners Team (KART) meet for long runs on Saturdays. And there’s the…what’s that? Oh my! YEAH! Up ahead I spot my love and her mother, car parked at the side of the parking lot with their Starbucks cups on top. They are standing beside the road looking for us. I run out from the main group so I can come over and get a hug and a whack from the spatula. That’s right, the spatula. My love’s mother is jumping up and down waving the spatula at every runner passing by (Go rent “Run Fatboy Run” if you haven’t yet seen it. By far the best running movie ever made!). A hug, a kiss, a good whack on the backside and I was back on course making turn for mile 8. It was here at mile 8, just at the base of the Rose Bowl, where the first split of the Half Marathon and Marathon course occurred. In the blink of an eye over 3/4 of the runners were simply gone from our view as us marathoners pressed on for a 2 mile out and 2 mile back stretch around the Bowl. Just before the split though we spot more friends: it’s Marie-Helene…says she’s dropping down to the 1/2 due to a recurring injury…”good luck”….”good luck to you too”, and then she’s gone along with the rest of the Halfers.
Two miles around the back side of the Rose Bowl, two miles back. It’s sheer boredom as we’ve spent so much time over the past two years running this section of road around the Bowl. Sometimes familiarity with the course is good thing, and sometimes familiarity breeds contempt. We make the turn at mile 12 and head up Seco Ave to Mountain Ave. It is literally all uphill from this point on in the race, until we reach the tip top of Pasadena. Miles 13 through 15 take us up, up and up, through 350 feet of elevation gain. Somewhere up there, after the turn and we get start a slow coasting downhill again, is T’s husband and son, waiting on a corner for us to pass by. They have oranges and treats and good wishes and high spirits, and by the time we reach them they are such welcome sights. We’re now beyond 16 miles, the furthest I’ve ever raced, and I’m not feeling half bad. Mind you I’m not feeling half good either. The hip has been making itself known quite a bit again as we slogged up that long hill. No additional collapsing incidents, but it’s being very vocal about how it feels (as am I). I take an extra minute here or there to walk more, never letting my walking pace climb above 12:30 though.
To this point we’ve been running a solid and steady 9|1 run|walk, as trained and planned, but as we approach mile 18 I tell T I need to do more walking and thus we drop to a 4|1 interval. One time I even do a full four minute walk, but still never slower than 12:30 pace while walking. We’ve trained on this course, run it more than once, and I know exactly what’s ahead of us. I can visualize miles 20+ and I’m not feeling too good about them. There’s pain to the outside of the right knee, compensatory from the hip, and the left ankle has been pretty much solidly numb for over an hour. The fun has so left me at we complete mile 18. Just as we’re about to turn up Sinaloa to head back to Mountain Ave I spot my love and her mother up ahead. I run/walk/hobble over to her (my love, not her mom!) and give a big hug, a big smile, tell her I love her and ask her to meet us at mile 25 to run the end with me. I didn’t really ask, it was more like a dying man’s last wish. Then I broke free of her embrace and turned up Sinaloa. I’m feeling awful, but I’m not stopping…can’t stop, it’s simply too hard to start again, so I have to keep moving even though it means letting go of my love.
The plan says we’re going to hate the 21st mile as it’s a long slogging ascent up Washington Blvd. The plan is accurate. To compensate I walk the entire ascent, pushing to keep better than 12:30 while walking and mostly being successful at it. Whoa! Wasn’t that my love mom over there at mile 20? How she get here from 18? And where’s my love? Keep moving… Coming down from 21 (Washington Blvd is a simple out-n-back leg) I’m able to get up a run again, but it’s now clear I have a 3 minute running threshold I can’t go beyond without tremendous pain in the knee and hip. At mile 22 T’s husband and son are again on course, and her son joins us running, helping us to bring it home in the last four miles. I’m still running, but the intervals are more and more like 2.5|1 run|walk, though I have the satisfaction of listening to both T and her son complain about how fast I’m walking and that they can’t keep up. It brings a smile to my face, cheers me up even though I know as soon as we start running again they will fly right by, again. It’s like we’re playing leap frog. And T’s still with me, helping me to complete the marathon. Awesome friend!
Mile 23! I’m now 3 miles further than I have ever run in my life. And to celebrate…my love suddenly appears and is dressed to run and running with me. She’s come out two miles early and is going to finish the race with me. I’m hurting, I’m walking a lot….a lot!…and my love is just starting her running career, but here she is running with me in the marathon. I’m surrounded by support, helping me to overcome, and I feel absolutely blessed to have my love in my life. At this point in my marathon we’re also really good running partners as my walking and her running paces are just about the same. When I pick up running each time she gets dropped behind a bit but keeps pushing herself to catch up and keep me motivated. Somewhere along here, between miles 23 and 24, T checks my status and we part ways with she and her son running off and finishing the marathon together while I soldier on with the help of my love.
It’s at about 24.5 miles, just after the water station, where I have my first emotional flood. I think every volunteer at the water station greets me by name (gotta love the name on the bib!!!!) and gives me encouragement and as I pass beyond the station I realize for the first time that it’s only two more miles, and I’ll have completed my first marathon before another 30 minutes have passed. It happens again as I approach the corner of Union and Hill, at 25.9 miles, with about 15 volunteers just sitting on chairs in the middle of road encouraging me (and every runner, of course) onward. I turn that corner at a run, start to leave my love a bit more behind me, somewhere finding reserves in my hips and getting beyond the knee pain. There’s one more turn at 26.1 miles and I’m still running, and my watch shows I’m even hitting an 11:00 pace. I can hear my love somewhere behind me, yelling my name and “go! go! go!” I cross the finish in a very respectable 4:46:49. At the end of chute is my medal, now around my neck, and the official photo, and there’s T and her family. She comes over and we get a finishers picture together. And then there’s my love again, and this time we can hug and I can stop and hold her in the embrace. It’s done. I’m a marathoner.
And it takes less than two hours before the machinations in my head start to think about RunSFM in July.
