La Jolla Half Recap
When you’ve been running a race multiple times over the years, you can become complacent in how to step to the starting line because you’ve done it before; you know all the twists and turns of the course. You sort of feel over confident about it. Well that’s what happened to me over the weekend running my eighth La Jolla Half Marathon.
Coming off my last marathon in mid-March, I knew I had some solid aerobic fitness. The goal was to put in some good speed work, maintain the aerobic capacity and get into the gym for some muscle build. All sounds good, right? Of course! But it didn’t happen. It didn’t happen because I didn’t have a plan to go off of. With all of my races, I have a training plan to follow so I don’t have to think about what to do each week and it keeps me on point with training. Knowing I have to check something off the to-do list makes me stay on top of things. But this time around, that didn’t happen. And so the days rolled by with me skipping workouts, missing runs, putting things off. Before I knew it, we’re two weeks out! While I wasn’t a complete slug – workouts and runs were happening, but it wasn’t specific to the race, they were randomly culled together.
Given all that, I set the expectations accordingly. Course PRs aren’t happening! But I know I gotta be able to run better than how I did last year when I was sick (1:37:30). On average I’ve ran just under 1:30, so I got my range set. To make that happen, I know I gotta run a smart race. As I’m warming up before the race, all that’s running through my head, while chopping it up with my runbuds from a handful of run crews.
Starting gun goes off and so does my wave. I let the speedys and young bucks take off. The 1:30 pacer takes off with the group and I follow behind them. I quickly fall into my pace and just as quickly I see that the 1:30 group is taking off pretty fast. I should be with them, but I know today ain’t the day, so I stay disciplined and let them go ahead without giving chase. We loop around the Del Mar Fairgrounds fast and we’re already tackling the first mini-hill. Eventually my watch beeps 6:46 for the first mile. A bit faster than my target, but not too bad. The lead pack must’ve clocked 6:30 because they’re already a ways off.
Before you know it, we’re running downhill on the coast side of Del Mar heading towards the train tracks which is where the real set of hills start. Over the tracks and we start zigzagging through the neighborhood. Left, right, left, right, up, flat, up like a Nintendo cheat code we go. I find a couple of guys that are running my pace and run with them, using them as a barometer of how I’m feeling, keeping them close by. Smart racing. I love running hills, but this dense 180lbs is some effort to push uphill. These guys have a lighter, leaner build and they’re tackling the hills a bit easier. I catch them on the flats, they pass me on the hills. Back and forth. Eventually they take the final hill to Torrey Pines like mountain goats. I’ll catch up.
I hit that turn and try to recover fast to take advantage of the flat section. I work to control my breathing and pass a water station. Before I know it, we’re at mile four and we hit the long downhill section overlooking Torrey Pines State Beach. The view is always gorgeous and you can see the downtown La Jolla in the distance like a mirage. But you can’t really enjoy because you’re watching your steps down the hill. This is where the mass helps. I let gravity do its thing and give me the assist down the hill. I’m pretty good at letting my legs freewheel and pick up my pace without taxing my energy stores. Smart racing. I pass the skinny guys up and keep the momentum going to clock in mile five at 6:26 – a minute a change faster than the previous mile. I hold on to the pace for a minute as we hit the flat part of the beach. I try to hold it as long as I can but eventually slow back down to half pace.
Finally we turn and head up Torrey Pines State Park – a long steep climb that curves up and around the mountain for about a mile. Skinny dude passes me by. I’m never to catch him again. This hill is where the sufferment begins! Blood turns to acid, lungs exhale fire, head struggles to keep up, legs feel like lead. I’ve been here plenty of times before, but it never feels better. It’s just a tough hill to climb. I do my best to run the tangents on the hill to shave off distance and hopefully time. Smart racing. Eventually we get to the peak (?) of the hill. The park ranger says, “Your at the top!” She lying big time! While the steepness is done, about a mile of it, the climb upward continues. It’s a long straightaway that’s less steep and you feel like you can actually power up it but it drags on seemingly forever. Mile 6 at 8:45, mile seven at 7:55.
Finally we get out of the park and back to the main road. I work on recovering from the climb to get back to pace. This section is chock full of rollers as you run past the golf course, fancy hotels of La Jolla and campus of UCSD. It’s a great time to take advantage of the descents and use that energy nearly half way up the ascents. This three mile section feels like forever though. Not a lot of crowd support and this deep into the race, you start feeling the miles wear on your legs. However with eight miles done in less than an hour, I also know I have just about a half hour left. So I try not to dwell on the suck and push through.
Eventually, I make the turn onto La Jolla Shores around mile ten. This is where the race starts to get fun! From here, the road drops drastically in elevation and you’re whipping down and around the curves until you hit a long straightaway and fly underneath the bridge to Birch Aquarium. If you’re capable, you’re letting the brakes off completely, allowing the legs to pinwheel in long strides, pounding the pavement hard, hoping you don’t slip or trip because the fall won’t be pretty. Here is where you make up mad time from the hill and can pass plenty of people that aren’t used to this dive. Smart racing. Feet are burning from tearing up the asphalt, quads are burning from slamming every step.
A hard right takes us just past Scripps Pier, a quick left takes us towards La Jolla Shores. A half mile later and we’re taking another right on the boardwalk of the beach. With about two miles to go, this is where the race really starts. I’m holding onto a solid pace on the boardwalk, but the legs are feeling it! As I turn off the boardwalk, I’m doing the rest of the route in my head. I know the last climb is literally around the corner. I run past the tennis club get ready for it. Finally I hit the hill. Or the should I say the hill hits me! It feels like a mountain! This is where I’m really regretting not having the training for this because I’ve mastered this part before! I’m slogging it up the hill, trying to dig deep, but feeling like I’m just digging my grave. It flattens out a bit at the top of Spindrift before it turns to Princess St for another ascent that’s short and steep. “I just got to get to the corner!” I tell myself, but I know that’s not really it. As I turn onto Torrey Pines (part II of this long ass street), it’s another long, steady climb. The only solace is that I’m running faster than the cars inching along in traffic from having to make room for us runners. This last hill is barely longer than a half mile, but damn if it don’t feel like eternity! Especially this late in the race when the body has been hammered and beaten the previous twelve miles. Finally I reach the top at Prospect and turn right. Along the way, I manage to pass up a couple of people and almost catch one more at the corner, but not quite. Prospect is a flattish downhill and I’m able to find the strength to push on with some speed. I catch that one last guy and urge him to push on with me. I keep on trucking this quarter mile toward the short steep last downhill that takes us to the finish. I’m hurting, but I know I just gotta hold on. I’m counting the minutes.
Finally I hit the finally drop and again, I’m taking the brakes off, pinwheeling the legs, praying I don’t bite it on the stamped concrete. My legs hate me. I hit the finish line chute and see crowds as the road flattens. My lungs hate me. I turn onto the grass and hear my announcer buddies shout my name like I’m a somebody as I finally cross the finish line! The water bottle I’d been carrying the whole time flies in the air as I’m thrilled to be done! I hunch over to find my lungs and my heart that’s been pounding out my chest.
1:33:04
Right on par with where I thought my fitness is at. Good enough for fourth place Age Group, third place within reach if I had trained for this one. A bit of a stinger and a hard lessoned learned.
