Third Time Around

The morning is foggier than I expected. When I last ran this marathon two years ago the weather was sunny and beach music provided its up-tempo and relaxing melodies, the perfect combination for running. Today all I see is gray with oil derricks on the east side of the Pacific Coast Highway on my right.

I run the first mile in 6:10, a little faster than my desired 6:30 pace. The course is better than before. In 2007 we hit the only hills about two-thirds through the race. We also merged with the half-marathoners about halfway through the course. This kept me from getting any water since the slower runners clogged the water stations. This year the hills are before 10 miles and we run on opposite sides of the road from the half-marathoners.

Past the hills I'm running ahead of a 6:30 pace. The field is about 1,900 runners, about twice as large as in 2007. I'm running alone, which doesn't help me maintain a pace. Through 13 miles I'm still ahead of schedule, which surprises me in one sense. When I train I can barely hold my target pace for a few miles, but when I race its effortless, at least for a while.

One element that is not going well is my race fueling. I've taken a couple of the Cliff Shot Blocks and am feeling a bit nauseous. I keep making excuses to not eat any more. "Just one more mile." "After the next water stop." "When I get out of this pack of runners," which is ridiculous since there's no one around me.

The 16th mile takes us north on the beach. We pass RVs and surfers, but I have to focus because we're hitting a slight headwind. At this point my running mechanics are faltering and the added resistance is making each step more difficult. I keep pushing, knowing that the wind will be at my back in a few miles, but I don't see the lead runners so the turnaround must be a long way ahead.

When I reach the end and turn around, I welcome the assistance of the wind, but every part of my body below the waist hurts. It's now 20 miles and I'm still on a 6:30 pace. My feet hurt, so I try to soften my steps. But I can't do it because that would require absorbing more of the impact with my thighs, which are tight and sore. I can't take lighter steps, landing more on my forefoot, because my ankles hurt.

I'm running out of gas, so I take whatever electrolyte drink they're giving along the course. Fortunately my stomach doesn't react poorly to the solution. I'm just not strong enough to keep up the pace. I slow considerably, even with the tailwind. Every change in elevation, no matter how small, is painful. The last stage of the race returns us from the beach to the Pacific Coast Highway. I can't wait for the race to end. Two guys pass me down the homestretch. My last sprint to the finish line gets me to the end in 2:53:34. My pace over the last 6.2 miles was 7:30, a full minute slower than over the first 20.

I finish 13th out of 1,977, fourth in my age group (M40-44). It's the third time in a row that I've run a marathon in 2:53. This seems to be one distance that I'm destined to not improve upon.

The race features a unique surboard finishers medal. On top of that I received a large medal and nice jacket for finishing the third leg of the California Deraming Race series. Of the three races Long Beach International was my favorite, not taking expenses into consideration. Northern California runners would do best to wake up for the 5:30 AM start for San Francisco and avoid the travel costs for the SoCal races. Between the two Southern California races, the weather is better in Long Beach, but the competition is more difficult.

San Francisco is on my calendar for 2009, and if I ever run Long Beach again, I'll try to do Surf City for the California Dreaming gifts.

If I make any adjustment it will be to run my annual marathon later in the year. Training in the dark is too bleak, and I'd enjoy the speedwork more if I'm running races instead of huffing around Alameda on my own.