Chaos. The start line was chaos. The “water monster” cup dispenser didn’t show, and even if it had the valve was apparently broken. The speakers weren’t working so the PA system had all of enough range as two tin cans tied together by a three foot string. The corral market signs hadn’t turned up so even though it was 15 minutes to the start they kicked us all out of the street so they could announce the corral locations.
Fellow runners were equally befuddled by the “plan” for starting the race. I was struck by the super specific pace times — 3:08 or 3:43 or others. Somebody told me it was for Boston Qualifying times, minus two minutes as the prior year you needed at least two minutes better than the BQ cutoff to get in. My heart sank as my 3:08:11 is one minute, 39 seconds from the cutoff and thus I see my odds of actually going to Boston with my time getting longer.
A quick wave start was punctuated by the officially starting of each wave with a subdued cowbell echoing through the aforementioned pointless PA system. The race was an oddly quiet run — despite almost 20 times as many runners as at East Canyon the day before, I felt oddly more lonely and alone. Crunching footfalls, an odd spectator and even fewer aid station shouts of “sorts drink! Water!”
I ran this race a few years back and distinctly remembered bits and pieces of the course. The bike path next to grape vines and some sort of gorge punctuated by bridges. The DeLoach Vineyard around mile 10, complete with a dash through the barrel room. I recall failing to get a decent pic of that moment the last time and sadly today was no better. I mucked with the sharpening and black and white coloring to try and salvage one shot — this was my best effort.
But mostly it was a grind. My legs were smarting from the dumbness of running back to back races. Any thoughts of a BQ time were quickly quashed by the ravages of reality. But I carried on as best I could…
In the closing miles back on the bike path, I came across a couple of Mainly Marathon legends — always nice to see a familiar friendly face or two on the course. Cheering each other on broke the metronome sounds of clopping feet. As I said, it was an oddly subdued event. I guess a lot of folks were focused on trying to qualify for Boston. Supposedly the SR Marathon has 34% of the field qualify.
That may not have been the case today as corral one apparently took a wrong turn and added a mile to their route before realizing their mistake. The elites and all times sub 3:15 were therefore playing catchup from mile four on. Like I said – chaos.
This is odd as they were so gracious about my late pickup the night before. No need to bandit — and I forgot I had customized my bib to say Vino Kev. I think it was a late snap judgment to go with that instead on Wino Kev… Had I thought more about it I really should have gone with “Kevino” or “Kev-Vino!”
At the finish I wound up with something like a 3:25. I didn’t stick around to find out more details as I wanted a shower before rushing back to SFO for my flight. What a waste given all the snafus, fubars, and any other profane acronyms to describe the travel day today.
Honestly, that’s a post for another day. As it stands, I came, I ran, I left. Maybe that’s all that needs to be said.