Half-Marathon #35 - The Fourth Times the Cure

Rahbin Shyne crossing the JetBlue half-marathon finish line for the fourth time in five years.

For some reason, the Long Beach half seemed longer than others. Of course I know it isn’t really longer. Thirteen point one is thirteen point one. It was the long stretch along the bike path with the endless sea of sand between us and the ocean. I finally understand why I had such an unfavorable view.

My first JetBlue half was in 2015 in the midst of major heat wave. Our race was moved up half-an-hour to get marathoners and half-marathoners alike off the course before the sun reached midday. I am not proud to admit this, but I left my two buddies at mile 9. They joined me out of love and friendship and a sense of adventure. I’d started off training for the marathon, so when I dropped down to the half, I can see why they didn’t see training as imperative. Their pace meant more time on the pavement, more time on my feet and more time next to the heat bouncing off the sea of light beige sand. I kicked my pace into high gear and was off. Although this was the race that made me fall madly in love with the 13.1 distance, it was miserably hot and seemed endlessly long.

She’s thinking “Look at that stride!” Rahbin Shyne strolls past mile 11.

Memories of the 2015 JetBlue Half were with me for the second walking in 2016. It came and went uneventfully. It was the 2017 race that sealed my negative impressions of the Long Beach half. And it was entirely my fault. I ordered two pairs of my favorite New Balance because the model was discontinued. Two pairs a half-size too small. I ordered two pairs at once because I’d completed worn down the old ones. When race day came, it was a choice between tread-thin perfect fit and the “slightly tight” new ones. I’d worn them a few times…for three miles or so. Please don’t waste time asking me how it is I chose to wear too small shoes for a 13.1 mile race. It wasn’t until mile 4 that I realized just how bad it was going to be. I had to choose between quitting and sticking it out another 9.1 miles. I figured I already knew how much it was going to hurt, might as will stick it out.

I crossed the finish line and vowed never again JetBlue half! I skipped the race in 2018.

Image from https://averageocrunner.com/half-marathon-long-beach-ca-2018/

I returned in 2019. It was the challenge medal that got me. I’d completed the Surf City and OC Half-Marathons that year. All I had to do was complete the Long Beach half and I’d get the chunky-hunky glam Beach Cities Challenger Medal.

Rahbin Shyne somewhere around Shoreline Village.

After that race, I realized the Long Beach Half isn’t that bad on a pleasant day in shoes that fit.

Half-Marathon #33 "Why do we do this?"

Rahbin Shyne (3rd from left) walking in the OC Half-Marathon

Just as happened at the Surf City Half-Marathon a couple months earlier, amidst a race of over ten thousand racers, I ran into my aunt, Janice. We both walk our half-marathons. Unlike myself, Janice keeps a very steady pace throughout the race. She always starts races a few corrals (groupings) ahead of me.

Caught up in the enthusiastic cheers of start line supporters and volunteers, the vast majority of walkers cross the start line jogging. Not me. I prefer to start at the back of the pack. Rather than warm-up ahead of the race, I use the first mile or two of the course to warm-up. I walk along the sides, letting the jogging walkers skip ahead. As I enter the third mile, my warmed up limbs hit their long, quick stride and make up time. I usually catch up to Janice sometime between the 6th and 8th mile. I recognize the up swept hair and close to the ribs arm swing. We exchange hellos and she pulls away.

Sometimes we pass each other back and forth. Other times it’s a one-time sighting. At the Surf City race, I was accompanying friends on their first half-marathon. Janice was a couple miles ahead and the distance grew wider. At the OC race, we passed each other a couple times. That happens quite a bit in races.

In most circumstances, the back-and-forth, I pass you, you pass me is just a reflection of the normal ebb and flow of pace changes over thirteen miles. In a very few cases, it is an annoying attachment. Around mile four I passed a rather large heavy-footed man, 6’ 5” and 250 lbs. A few moments later he jogged up and passed me by ten feet. Then he returned to his regular walking pace. I kept my same walking stride. I passed him again. A few minutes later, I heard his heavy breathing coming toward me. This time he stopped just a couple feet ahead of me. I kept my pace. I have no idea how far ahead of him I got. I only know that, again, minutes later the heavy-footed, heavy-breathing man was at side. I let this happen once more before I jogged for half-a-mile to end the game.

Between miles eleven and twelve, more back-and-forth with Janice before I slowed a bit, focused on keeping my limbs cramp-free and in motion.

After crossing the finish line, I took a few minutes to stretch, gather pretzels, water and so on in the post-race lane. As I exited the refreshment area, I saw my aunt sitting on the ground, against a fence taking a post-race selfie. We exchanged smiles of self-satisfaction even as our eyes acknowledged that the warming early morning temperatures had taken a toll.

Janice broke the silence, “Why do we do this?” I held up my finisher medal. “For this.” She smiled while shaking her head. I wonder which race I’ll see her in next. Probably the Jetblue Long Beach half in October when I also pick-up the Beach Cities Challenge Medal. Or sooner.