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 #22: Walking with Friends at Divas' Temecula Race

One truth about the folks who get up before sunrise to walk thirteen miles for no reason other than that they can is that are friendly bunch. Negativity is noticeably absent. Kindness and encouragement pour from their lips to land on friends and strangers alike.

Being surrounded by hundreds, thousands or tens of thousands of fired up folks is as addictive as the euphoric joy experienced with each successive step of the last tenth of a mile to the finish line. The day before the Diva race in Temecula, two beautiful spirits from Florida walked over to my girlfriends and I: “I have to take your picture.” We never asked her to explain. We all understood. The four of us—two pediatricians, a social worker and a teacher—were taking pictures with the abandon of pre-teens at a Taylor Swift concert.

The Diva race attracts women from across the country to experience a walking, jogging, running party in pink. Bib pick-up comes with a pink tutu and silver tiara. The pink boas are handed to us just as we get to the finish line for your Diva photo op.

This was my first Diva race. It is definitely a celebration of the powerful, the pink and the pretty in all of us.

Our group of four will definitely take off for another Diva race. We’d love to see you join us. Check out Walk That Half! to get started.

Diva crew. Our two new friends from Florida.

Half-Marathon #29 on The Strip at RocknRoll Las Vegas

In the post-race rush following finishing the Temecula Diva Half-Marathon in February, Donna says, “I want to do one of the Rock n Roll half-marathons.” We settle on Rock N Roll Las Vegas over the Veteran’s Day weekend.

One by one, four drops to two. Donna (far right, below) registers and books her flight. I didn’t. I was waiting to for certainty that two wouldn’t become one.

I’m not a fan of Vegas. I was. Once. Okay, lots. In my early twenties, there was the all-night partying with college friends. A late twenties romantic excursion. In my thirties and forties, a mix of multiple trips—family, friends, romance and Donna’s bachelorette party. The latter a source of gratitude that “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”

Come October, Donna’s still in. Rock n Roll Las Vegas is happening. As I register, I see the option to buy race insurance. Yes, there’s even insurance on race registrations. I wish I’d thought of it. Add a few bucks to your $130 registration in case you can’t or don’t make it to the race. It seems like a sucker’s purchase, so I never buy it.

Five hours after I register, Donna calls with exciting news. She’s was just offered an opportunity to go to a conference in Botswana as a VIP. Now, there was one.

I wanted to cancel. An evening race on Veteran’s Day weekend. It was going to be worth the drive to hang out with my BFF and laugh all weekend. Now, the idea of being stuck in holiday traffic for an evening race in a city that I’ve outgrown was entirely unappealing. Except, I didn’t buy the insurance. Though it would cost me more to make the trip than simply flush away the registration, it was the principle of it all.

I waited till late evening and drove without a hint of traffic to Las Vegas from the Southern California. Slept-in and then off on the adventure of parking and picking up my race bib. And it was worth it!

Every visit I’ve ever taken to Las Vegas has included walking along the Las Vegas Strip. Dozens of walks along the busy, gorgeous, lights-flashing strip. They close down the entire strip at night for the Rock n Roll Las Vegas full- and half-marathon. Granted, they close it down in the morning for the Veteran’s Day Parade. Meaning, they get two events from the same street closure. There were over 40,000 people participating in the full or half-marathon—buying meals, snacks, renting rooms, some gambling, some watching shows. It’s a good move for Vegas.

It was around mile five when I let it fully sink in that I was walking in the middle of one of the most iconic roads in America. Movies like Casino, Leaving Las Vegas, the Oceans 11 franchise and on and on. A road whose pavement was tread by people from all over the planet, celebrities of every ilk.

The course passes Wynn, Luxor, Bellagio, the Stratosphere, Circus Circus, etc. It keeps going through the seedier areas. There are barricades and plenty of security who have cleared the streets of the people who normally populate the sidewalks in front of the pawn shops, liquor stores and motels that folks shelling out $130 for the privilege of walking 13.1 miles never visit.

There’s a quick view of old downtown and Fremont street before a return through the less lit strip en route back to the finish in front of the Mirage.

As a half-marathon walker, I’m used to being at the tail end of the participants. By the time I was heading back to the well lit part of strip, a few of the colorful regulars were slowly settling back into their usual places.

I heard an aged and weathered woman wrapped in layers repeat from the sidewalk, “You all runnin’ through here. You pretendin’ you don’t see. You pretendin’ you don’t see. Keep on running…”

Half-Marathon #28 "Good Deeds" at Lexus Laceup in Ventura

First, there was the weird roundabout route to the Ventura Fairgrounds parking. Then there was the quarter-mile long slow, winding drive to the parking entrance. All the slower as participants discovered, car by car, that attendants were collecting a $5 parking fee. That the there was a parking fee surprised lots of us. There weren’t even signs ahead of the attendants to allow those with cash on hand to prepare for the request.

Finally, my turn to learn. I was cashless. All I want after a race are the free salty snacks and sips of the free beer and a slow back to the car that will take me to any decent coffee chain. The parking attendant directed me to an ATM a couple hundred feet away. Did she really expect me to drive in the opposite direction of the shuttles, withdraw $20 at a cost of $26 thanks to bank fees on both ends, while the shuttles to the drop-off point were beginning to drive away? Fortunately, she did not. She reluctantly waved me through.

There was a short wait for the next set of shuttles. I’m first on board the rented yellow school bus and sit directly behind the driver. A couple hundred feet into the drive he announces, he doesn’t know the route and can’t use a navigation tool. He asks someone to help by looking up the address and directing him from our phone. The bus is abuzz with friends and partners and groups chatting up their race day breakfast, race day preparations, bib mishaps and so on. It seemed no one heard, or wanted to hear.

Had I sat even one seat further back, I doubt the sense of obligation would have fallen over me like a cloud. It did. I offered to help.

The elderly driver handed me a paper and said, “Here’s the address.” And so began my rediscovery that no good deed goes unpunished.

I type it in, touch “maps” and the haughty female voice begins telling us where to go. All was well for the first couple miles. Then the all-wise navigation system tells us to turn right onto a two-lane windy road. That’s when the first irritating voice wondered aloud if we were going the right way. “Is someone giving directions.”

I reply yes. What I wanted to say was “Yes, since no one else seemed to care.” Two gentlemen one seat back and across the aisle stepped in. They gave a reassuring “She’s got it” referring to me. I could hear the “We got your back” in the background and was grateful. Not that I looked back to say so.

A few more miles down the windy road and now an ominous quiet descends upon the riders several rows behind me. “We’re not going the right way” says one female who is now standing and leaned over her seat. I turn to the two gentlemen now, show them the google maps app is on and working and then flash a partly-pleading and, more so, irritating look their way. They stay quiet as a form of support, giving no credence to the increasing cluster of concern arising from the ancy folks in the back.

For my part, I was indeed irritated. I didn’t want to navigate in the first place. Now, these back-seaters are questioning my ability to type in an address and follow step-by-step directions. My basic intelligence was on the line. You can imagine how this went down.

I was right. We were headed to the destination I typed in. They were right. We were headed to the wrong drop-off spot. The driver handed me a paper with address for the full marathon in view. It was dark when we headed off at 6am. Neither the driver nor I saw the words “full marathon” at the top of the page. We went a couple miles further than needed.

Here’s the kicker. As I fumbled to turn off the navigation voice emanating from my phone, the driver now found the haughty female voice so distracting, he griped "Turn that thing off!” An old man scolding the good-deed-girl after he invited me into the mess in the first place. Not to mention he’s the one who gave me the bad address.

About a mile into the race, the two gentlemen who supported me through it all by not joining the mob, jogged by me. I don’t recall exactly what they said. I just remember saying “No good deed…” as they pulled away.

____________

Race Review: The Lexus Laceup in Ventura is a great course. Due to the location, a set apart path that hugs San Antonio creek, cheering locals are mainly cluster near the aid stations until the last couple miles in the city of Ventura proper. The volunteers are friendly and accommodating. The aid stations are well-placed and plentiful. Port-o-potties are adequately placed along the course. This is one of the few courses I’d gladly repeat

Half-Marathon #21 - Operation Jack Virtual Half Marathon

Your city. Your race.

While other folks were taking advantage of after-Christmas sales or enjoying a third helping of Christmas leftovers, I was completing my twenty-first half marathon. Operation Jack benefits Talk About Curing Autism. Sure, I’m a half-marathon fanatic, but that’s not the only reason to race the day after Christmas. I wanted my challenge* medal.

Virtual races are a cool option if you can’t make it to the actual event. I was up till 2am Christmas Day and appreciated the option to skip waking up at 6:30am to get to a 7:30am race. That said, virtual races are a unique experience and one I wouldn’t recommend to anyone who hasn’t completed at least five, preferably ten, actual races.

Bolsa Chica Wetlands

Pluses

• You pick your race time. Expect to complete the race on the same day of the regular race. Beyond that, you are in control of when you start. Most virtual races do not require that you start at the exact same time as the regular race.

• You choose the location. I completed a virtual half marathon in July, 2017. One of the places I enjoy walking on hot summer days is the Bolsa Chica Nature Preserve along the coast. The Shoreline Half Marathon was smack in the middle of a heat wave. I chose a favorite location, starting at the cooler part of the early evening and finishing just as bonfires were lighting up at Bolsa Chica beach. It was a beautiful walk.

• You get all the swag and the finishers medal.

Minuses

• You’re on your own. At regular races, the organizers provide water, electrolyte drinks and port-o-pots along the route. With virtual races, you bring what you need and plan out locations for nature calls in advance.

• You are your own medical support. By the time you’ve completed five or more races, you know how much training you need to complete the race without any difficulty. This is important. Actual races will generally have paramedics on stand-by. They are ready to transport anyone who can’t finish the race to the finish line. See the recommendations below to keep safe.

• There are no volunteers cheering you along. Wait till you’ve completed several races and built the mental endurance to complete a half-marathon.

• Finisher medals are at the official finish line. Virtual racers receive their swag in the mail. Many race organizers are busy people with full-time jobs and regular lives. Don’t expect that your medal and swag will get dropped in the mail the moment you confirm that you’ve finished the race distance via email.

Recommendations

o   Plan your route. Google pedometer makes it pretty easy.

o   Use a pedometer app to track your distance. Double-check that you’ve enabled the location service on your phone for accurate tracking. Even if you plan your route, your app will allow you to make on-the-spot adjustments if you need to take a detour or alter your plan and still meet your distance.

o   Share your plans with someone. Most races require you to provide the name of an emergency contact. Since you’ll be racing on your own, let at least one person know your start time, route and expected finish time. Let the person know the latest time you’ll call to either report that you finished your race or to adjust your finish time.

o   By your fifth actual race, you’ll know whether you need a mid-race bar or energy gel to keep you moving. Bring everything you need to finish with you. Roo Sport is my favorite race pack. It’s less bulky than a fanny pack and has plenty of compartments for phone, keys and a gel or two.

o   Identify locations of public restrooms at least every couple miles.

o   Have a back-up ride. No matter how well you plan and train, life can throw you a curve. Have your Uber or Lyft ready to roll or a friend on stand-by. Hopefully, you’ll never need it.

o   Be safe. Race organizers plan their routes and staff them with volunteers. I’ve walked very small races in natural settings where I was out-of-sight of others for a quarter-mile or more. Still, I felt very safe because there were organizers on golf carts along the route and I knew someone would come find me if I didn’t make it to the finish line. Choose a safe route with little potential for surprises during daylight hours.

Walk That Half!

Visit calhalfseries.com for more information.

*For those of us participating in the California Half and Full Marathon Series Challenge, it was the last race of the year to complete and pick-up challenge medals. This series includes a few dozen races in both Southern and Northern California. In addition to the usual finisher’s medal, anyone completing 4, 7, 10, 15 or 20 races from the list of included races earn an additional challenge medal. The catch is that you can only pick up the challenge medals at one of four races at year’s end—two in Southern California, two in Northern California. Operation Jack is the absolute last medal race.

A Walker's Guide to Half-Marathon Etiquette

Show up, race, celebrate and go home. Whether you run or walk a half-marathon, that remains the same. Still, here are a few tips with walkers in mind to make your first and your fifty-first half-marathon a pleasant experience for you and fellow racers.

Stay Right - Leave Space to Pass

The ranks of half-marathon walkers are growing, but I haven’t found one yet specifically designed for walkers. Stay to the right, to allow the runners passing from behind a clear path.

Late arriving runners and walkers who’ve warmed up and quickened their pace may come fast from behind. It’s a courtesy to not interfere with their best time by giving them space to pass you automatically. On small parts of the course, avoid walking three and four abreast.

On out-and-back courses, expect the race leaders to head your way. In larger races, motorcycles or bicycles may precede them and ask that you move to the right well before they pass you. In smaller races, it’s our job to stay alert for the fast runners heading toward us and make sure we give them plenty of space. Just a few seconds can mean the difference between qualifying for a prestigious race or not.

Know the Course

Race volunteers switch positions and are reassigned throughout the race. It’s is not their responsibility to know the course. Don’t get upset with the folks who are volunteering their time if they can’t tell you how far along you are, when the course changes or where the next port-o-potty is located. Almost every race has a link to the course on their official website. Find it. Know it.

This is even more important at smaller events when runners are long gone from the course and we walkers may come to forks in the course with no one ahead of us to follow. Give race organizers feedback if additional signage or volunteers would make a difference at next year’s event.

Music

Many races now discourage headphones. They can interfere with hearing emergency vehicles, last-minute race changes and other participants. Some racers try to get around this request by listening to their music on speakers. I’ve watched participants attempt to enliven the race for others with loud songs blaring from their wireless speaker. I’ve also watched the faces of fellow-racers who wish they could just pass the guy and get some peace. We don’t all like the same music.

My worst experience was sharing the same pace with a woman who was listening to an audiobook narrated by the most uninteresting voice in the world. I jogged quite a ways ahead to ensure she couldn’t catch up to me a fourth time.

Trash

Race volunteers are amazing. They want us to enjoy the race, get the hydration and carbs we need and move along as quickly as we like.  While it is great to strive for dropping your water cup, wrapper or trash into the receptacles, stay aware of the race traffic around you. Better to allow the volunteers to pick up an errant cup or two than break up the rhythm of approaching racers to keep one cup of hundreds from hitting the ground.

Conversations

In my experience, racers are quite friendly. It’s nice to break up the monotony now and again. Pay attention to the body language of other racers, though. Some prefer to stay in the zone, while others invite company and conversation. The same person may be focused on making a personal record in one race and just strolling along to completion in the next.

Embrace the Cheers

The growing ranks of half-marathon walkers are a new fixture for some of the folks who have cheered at races for years. Sometimes the cheering supporters assume walkers are struggling to make it to the finish line, not realizing we’re on pace, on schedule and full of joy. Expect to hear “You got this!” more than a few times.

When I’m up for it, I give back a smile, thumbs up or thank you. These folks are taking time out of their morning just to show support. Don’t worry about it when you aren’t in the space to smile or reply. They know you are on a journey of thirteen point one miles and understand you’re focused.

Community

Half-marathoners are a community of individuals who love a challenge. We’re a group of both sexes, many races, lots of ethnicities and all ages. Unless this is a one-off challenge, expect to recognize other regulars at different races. Be kind, always. There are friendships to be made along the course.

The Opportunity

As I’ve settled into the unique race experience of walking half-marathons, I’ve become an avid cheerer of the runners on out-and-back courses. During my first few races, my focus was just on finishing my own race. As my confidence increased, I discovered that I was in the perfect position to offer encouragement to the runners heading toward the finish line. Now, it’s one of my favorite activities. As I walk toward the turnaround, I love giving a thumbs up or my own enthusiastic “You Got This!!!” to the runners passing in the opposite direction. They may not be able to acknowledge hearing you as the swoosh by, but it makes a difference.

Half-marathons can be a whole lot of fun with the right attitude and information.  

Walk That Half!

Half-Marathon #16: Arrogance and Integrity at Valley of the Flowers Half Marathon

With 15 half-marathons behind me, all I do is watch out for the "challenging" races. My attitude for everything else: "How hard can it be?" Arrogance was the only extra training I brought to the Valley of the Flowers race.

The paragraph long description of the race included the sentence: "The course is hilly and very scenic with majestic views of the Lompoc Valley and the La Purisma Mission." It didn't say "mountainous." It didn't say "challenging climbs." It said "hilly." Sure, this picture was included on the information page. I assumed it was to show the location's beautiful backdrop.

That aqua area is actually a steady 175 foot climb up a "hill" in just over 4 miles and a descent back down in about a half-mile. When I arrived at the base of the aqua loop, I was ecstatic. My first climb, even if unanticipated. It was beautiful. I even pulled out my phone to capture a Facebook Live moment of me twirling atop. "This is a great course!" I said to the pair of encouraging volunteers I passed at the hill's bottom. "You're the most enthusiastic person out here," one of the volunteers replied.

As I walked off to complete the last 5 something miles of the race, I wondered why. It only took a few hundred feet to find out. A volunteer who's job it was to make sure racers crossed at the straight pink line at the bottom of the route map said, "Just one big ol' hill and you're done."

Boy was I irritated as I found myself on the same lap I'd taken twice earlier. She'd made me anxious for no good reason. As I assured myself she was just pulling my chain, another part of my brain started doing math. Finishing the same lap around the basin would leave me a couple miles short. There had to be a turn somewhere. I gladly reasoned it was probably out into some hitherto unseen valley. I didn't bother paying attention to the route in advance. How hard could it be? 

It wasn't until mile nine that I encountered the turn up a hill. The trail wound about. Two hours in, it was hotter at 10am than it was when the race started. It was at the turn a bit into mile 10 that the steep final ascent toward the water towers became clear. Or so I thought. There's one last leg directly up to the water tower. The steepest part of the race.

My integrity was given a good run approaching mile 10 all the way to the top. That big ol' hill included a steep 23 story climb in just over a mile. The last of the runners would pass me as they headed down the mountain. Each time one of the last of the runners passed me with a variation of "That was hard!" on their tired faces, I would say to myself, "If she went all the way to the top, I can." "If he can, I can." "If she did, I will." Oh, arrogant pride.

It intensified my sense of integrity. Let me be fully frank about it:  I heard a small voice suggest turning around when I was alone on a long stretches of the path with no one in sight. "Who would know?" I would know.

My commitment to arrogance is incompatible with cheating, quitting or cutting a corner.

Winning might be hard on the body, but stopping short of personal victory is even harder on the soul.

This elevation map courtesy of halfmarathons.net.

It's All Downhill Half-Marathons

16 Amazing All-Downhill Half Marathons - HalfMarathons.Net

Superman is not a real hero. You are!

Every action we take to cut down on pollution, to curb excess carbon emissions preserves the diversity, beauty and ecological well-being of our planet. I'd love it if there were a true Superman who could speedily fly counterclockwise to our earth's spin, reversing time and giving us a second chance to get ahead of the climate change we're experiencing. (Note: Whether we are in multi-millennial natural pattern or a human-created change, lessening our part is all good.) A superhero move available to each of us is replacing a single short car trip a week with a walk or bike ride.

One of the benefits of becoming an avid half-marathoner is the willingness to switch out the car for comfortable walking shoes at any time. I'm fortunate that my partner loves to walk as well. Last month, we walked to our New Year's dinner at a favorite fine Italian restaurant.

Our most recent weekend walk was the first to our favorite Mexican spot where our favorite waiter remembers how we like our mole', our margaritas and rewards our loyalty with an always-amazing complimentary flan to finish the night's culinary experience.

Our walk included a shortcut through the neighborhood sport's complex, pass the skate park and sheriff's station and two locally owned coffee shops we'll likely try out. As we crossed the final light into the entertainment complex, I remarked that as much as I enjoyed having the sidewalk to ourselves, it would have been even nicer to pass other couples, enjoying a casual, relaxed walk to dinner, movies or evening shopping. There was not a single other couple walking instead of driving.

As much as I love half-marathons, I'll confess that I have no desire to walk ten miles to dinner and back. Still, with the average evening out a drive of only two to three miles, it feels good to work off some part of the food and drinks before I return home.

No one will see the big "S" on your chest as you walk instead of drive to and from dinner. Just know, silently as she spins, the earth thanks you.

See you on the path.