The Big Sur Experience

 

I tackled the Big Sur Marathon yesterday. It was windy, hilly, challenging, and beyond beautiful. It was the only marathon that I've run so far where I've used the "hike the uphill, sprint the downhill" strategy.  I found it really saved my quads and didn't negatively impact my time.  In fact, I finished Big Sur faster than New York City, which was far less hilly.  In case anyone is thinking of entering the lottery (which I highly encourage) here's my recap:

Saturday, April 29

8:00 a.m. - I joined the official shakeout run sponsored by Hoka and Fleet Feet Monterey.  Previously, I've shunned shakeout runs and scheduled my last short run three days prior to the race.  Sticking solely to Pilates and yoga for the next two days to keep my legs fresh.  But since February, I've been working with a new coach and she advised taking a short run the day before to "keep some pep in the legs."  I actually enjoyed the shakeout run.  I took the three miles pretty slow, just adding three strides at the end for good measure, and I chatted with a woman who had run 80 marathons, including Big Sur 10 times, and had some good tips.  These tips included that the hardest part of the race is the last five miles (which I made note of) and that she keeps her gloves on the whole race because the wind coming off the ocean can be cold (which I promptly ignored).  

6:00 p.m. - Highly recommend Osteria al Mare for pre-run carb loading.  It's located on a dock in Monterrey overlooking the ocean.  The fettucini was fresh, the marinara was made extra spicy per my request, and the apricot cheesecake was one of the best cheesecakes I've ever eaten. 

Sea lions sunning themselves near the restaurant. 

Sunday, April 30

3:15 a.m. - Woke up ridiculously early to catch the bus from my hotel to the start line.  I will admit, when the alarm went off I wanted to scrap the whole thing and keep sleeping, but I reminded myself that I had trained for months and flown across the country to run this race and so should probably at least give it a go.

4:00-4:30 a.m. - Waited in a line that wrapped around the block to get on the bus. Thankfully, it wasn't too cold. I brought sweats, a sweatshirt, a hat, and gloves that I planned to donate at the start line so I was nice and warm.  

4:30-5:30 a.m. - Ate on the bus ride to the start. I had a granola bar, banana, and honey stinger waffle. Finished off my water bottle of nuun before dozing the rest of the way there.  

5:45-6:30 a.m. - Waited in another ridiculously long line, this time for porta potties.  When I entered this line at 5:45 I thought I had more than enough time, but I ended up getting my turn right before they called corral C to line up.   

6:40-6:50 a.m. - Stretched and planked in the woods next to the corral. I did need to turn my back to the woods to avoid seeing about 8 pairs of butt cheeks on men taking one last pee before the start.

6:50 a.m. - Started! At this point, I had ditched all outer, warm items except for my hat.

Miles 1-5: I have my first ultra-marathon, the Ice Age 50k, in less than two weeks so the plan was to be conservative in this race so that I didn't burn out my legs.  I was to hold back in miles 1-5, which are predominantly downhill.  To avoid the temptation to pick up speed and bank time, I stuck with the 4:30 pace group for these miles. This turned out to be a great decision because one of the three pacers was really loud and funny.  He would yell for us to raise our hands, shakeout our shoulders, or smile for 10 seconds.  He would throw out race tips and highlights too.  Just the distraction I needed to stay with the plan. 

These miles are heavily wooded through Big Sur State Park. 

Miles 5-10: You get your first glimpse of the ocean at mile 5 and the beauty pretty much carries you through the next 5.  That and the first mango gel I took at mile 6.

The island in the background is a naval base.  Note at this point I have ditched my hat fully convinced the warm sun would stay with us for the next 20 miles.  That was a mistake.  

Given the course is closed to spectators, the event directors do their best to keep the runners entertained.  Not that they have to work too hard given the spectacular views.  But one thing they do to keep us focused on the mile ahead is to have fun mile markers.  This one was my favorite, even though it was kind of cruel.

Miles 10-15: The big takeaway I got from everyone who had previously run this race was that the 2-mile hill from miles 10-12 was a beast and if you didn't walk it, you risked burning out your legs and tanking the rest of the race.  My coach had adamantly advised that I power-hike any hill that I couldn't see its top.  We practiced this approach at least once a week for many weeks leading up to the event.  So when I finally came to the base, even though I was feeling great and wanted to keep running, I stuck with the strategy.  It turned out to be a good one because after a mile or so I noticed I was passing quite a few runners who were barely moving anymore because of the steep incline.  Adding to the tough climb were the wind gusts.  Apparently, 2023 was one of the windiest marathons in Big Sur history.  The wind would whip so hard that it almost knocked you over.  It certainly blew off quite a few hats and almost took my wraparound headphones clean off my head.  And the wind was COLD, making me deeply regret having discarded both my hat and gloves so early on in the race.

Yet, having had that bit of recovery during my power-hike portion (and a second mango gel), I was able to bomb down that hill at a 7:30 pace to even out the time.  And it felt great to run that fast. 

View of the approach to the 2-mile hill.

Drum circle near the top of the climb. The drummers were amazing.

My favorite part of the race was the halfway point where you cross over Bixby Bridge (seen here the day before when my friend and I scoped it out).

A pianist plays at the bridge and they have speakers amplifying the sound so you can hear it as you approach.  This man or his father has played at the marathon for the last 20 years.  Such a cool tradition.

Miles 15-21: Up until this point, I felt incredibly happy and confident that I could run forever. But my coach did warn me the race doesn't start until mile 15.  Well, by mile 16 I was feeling the slog.  Hence no more selfies.  I just focused on putting one foot in front of the other, taking it hill by hill, and bracing against the wind as it blew. Thankfully, "Till I Collapse" shuffled on my Spotify playlist right when I needed it at mile 16. "Until my legs give out from underneath me, I will not fall.  I will stand tall."

Eminem helped me push through the wall.

Miles 21-26: The woman from the shakeout run wasn't only right about the cold wind.  She was also right about the last five miles.  Five miles of endless rolling hills to finish the race.  Around mile 22, a runner next to me said, "How can we still be going up."  To which I responded, "What goes up, must come down."  What I said internally was a bit more profanity-laced.  These miles were brutal and it took an incredible amount of willpower to start running again after walking up yet another hill.  But little things like my last mango gel and the offer of free pony hugs at mile 23 kept me going.

The last hill was directly behind the 25-mile marker, which felt a bit like a slap in the face.  One of the volunteers near this marker assured us, "This is the last hill." To which I thought, I certainly effing (uncensored in my head) hope so.  We only have 1.2 miles left!  But I stuck with my power-hike up/run down strategy and was still able to get in the 8:00s on the decline down to the finish line. 

Despite the challenges, Big Sur will go down as my favorite marathon to date.  The order currently being: 1) Big Sur; 2) Berlin (beautiful city, great crowd support, flat); 3) Chicago (hometown, great crowd support, flat); 4) New York City (I'm in the minority of people who dislike this race, but my experience was hot with a 2-hour wait for a bus from the ferry); and 5) Milwaukee Lake Front (nothing particularly bad about this race, just not as pretty or as many spectators as the others).