Surf City and ShamrockN Halfs

Near the end of January, I decided I wanted to jump into the Surf City Half Marathon and there was still some spots left, so I signed up. It turned out a friend was pushing the half as well and, after finding that staying with a couple other friends that were running wasn't going to work out, he offered me a room at his house. He had also been asked to coordinate the wheelchairs... five of us in all (the three of us coming in from out of town stayed at his house). He picked me up from the airport, then we headed to the expo, where he ended up picking up the race packets for all the other wheelchair participants.. I even offered to return mine so he could get the whole set. We all converged on the house, passed out race packets and headed to dinner... highly confusing people by showing up with five wheelchairs and one person walking with us. This was the first time I've been in a group of so many chairs... I've actually gotten used to being the "shortest" person in a group so it was interesting to have that dynamic switched up.

Add in the photographer and we have the wheelchair division!

In the morning, we caravanned to the start and lined the cars up along a side street, then caravanned our chairs over to the finish area so we could leave our street chairs there during the race. Due to problems last year with the wheelchairs catching the back of the full marathon and being unable to get through easily, we were started before the full marathon.... we headed down the street as the national anthem was being sung. I had a bike escort that my friend set up, and at about 1 mile I proclaimed I was done, he laughed and kept riding with me. I soon found out that I hadn't recovered my strength from Dopey, but was okay to just keep pushing. The inclines took quite a bit of time and I relished in the declines. I also kept distracting myself with scenes of the beach and looking for the guys going the other way on the out and backs. At about mile 7, a cheering squad was dressed up as rabbits and I was forced to ask my escort if they were real... he did reassure me that there were giant rabbits on the course (they did as well when I got to them). Close to mile 9, coming out of a water station, I looked at my escort again and told him "according to that young gentleman back there, I'm ballin'... He sounded appreciative, so I'm pretty sure that's a good thing. I need to text my nephew when we're done here." (for everyone else that's wondering, according to my nephew the kid basically said I was awesome) And around mile 10, the four other bikes my friend had set up came out to find me and escort me to the finish. I spent the rest of the miles with two bikes in front getting spectators out of my way (the half was just starting on the other side of the street as I was coming in), two behind me, and one next to me cheering me on. My friend was waiting for me at the finish with a camera, a smile, and lots of cheering... then escorted me over to our chairs, and to the tent where we'd be hanging out until the half marathoners were out of the start area so we could get back to the cars.

Three of us then went to Disneyland for a few hours before I had to go back to the airport. Again, confused people showing up with that many chairs... luckily we seemed to pick rides that could accommodate all of us at once. And after the whirlwind of a weekend, I got dropped off at the airport early and got to sit and relax for a while.

Racing the sunrise!

Soon after getting home, I decided to look into more races coming up to get myself back into training to get my strength back. One was the ShamrockN Half in March, the other was the 9miler at Big Sur in April (I have some friends running the full and I'm going down to cheer, so I figured I might as well join in on a shorter race while I wait for them). I contacted both race directors by email...

Big Sur: I asked about the 9 miler and the 5K to see if I could participate in either one, and this was my answer: Both our 5K and our 9-Miler have sections of narrow dirt trail and a steep downhill section with rough pavement. Therefore, neither course is appropriate or safe for wheelchair participation. That was the whole response. So, out of curiosity, I asked about the half and full marathons for future reference and possible participation, or possible contingency plan for participation, in the Boston 2 Big Sur challenge. Again, I got another abrupt two sentence response: We do not allow wheelchairs on the full marathon course due to long and steep hills, narrow and rough roads, and crowding. Consequently, the Boston 2 Big Sur challenge is not an option for wheelchair participants. He was then sure to stomp on any desire to do any Big Sur races and told me that I couldn't do their November event either. Friends that know the area and/or will be running the event have vowed to scrutinize the course like hawks as they run... we'll see what the verdict is on the course. While I will concede that his concerns may be valid, I'm more upset at the abrupt responses and lack of even trying to work with me.

ShamrockN Half: This race director answered the day after the Big Sur emails, saying they didn't have a wheelchair division, but I was welcome. She brought up a few concerning areas on the course, then told me that the race ends on the warning track of a baseball field, but if I was comfortable with all that, she'd accommodate me and make arrangements for me to go up in the elevator instead of the stairs after the finish. I ended up thanking her for the wonderful response after the last experience with a race director, but said I could not join because of yet another medical bill I'd gained earlier in the day and hoped I could sign up next year instead. She then replied with a comp code, which was personalized as gokerry. There was then an uproar among my friends, wanting to support this race (and damn the other one, but this is the first time I've publicly outed Big Sur), but it was close to selling out when I signed up. My Rabbit friend made it in and we had another friend that had signed up long before I even found the race. And we had one other friend decide to come up to cheer.

At the start!!

I didn't have a whole lot of information going into the race, so we headed straight to the information desk, where there was a very nice gentleman that introduced me to the woman at guest services, who would take Saber during the race. After I switched chairs, we went to the start and promptly confused everyone there.... one man asked me what my average pace is and said they would start me at the end of the first wave. I immediately told him that wasn't a good idea, especially since we were starting by going downhill. Soon, it came back that I would start two minutes before the first wave.

I headed through the streets and made it a little past the first mile before the front runners passed me. I thought I was going to be quite slow during this half due to my Surf City experience and a training day the week before... three miles later, I was still pushing 7 1/2 minute miles. We spent most of the middle of the race on bike trails so crowding was a bit of a problem, but generally runners moved as I called out.. or at least moved over far enough that I could then go down the middle to avoid the people that didn't move (damn headphones!). I had been warned about some railroad tracks about mile 9, which was good because I was watching for something major and was the only reason I was able to slow down enough for the sharp turn that took me to the tracks. I bounced over those, went into a quick patch of dirt, then went through Old Sacramento a bit before heading back towards the baseball field to finish. Due to the speed I had been hanging onto (even with the inclines, I never went over 9 minute miles), I stayed ahead of my Rabbit until a little after 10 miles, heading up one of the last long hills. I got ahead for a bit, then she caught up again as we headed up the incline to the bridge. She coached me up the rest of it (I was quite done), then cheered after me as I lost her on the downhill going into the stadium. A man let me go ahead of him on the last turn onto the warning track. I slid onto the dirt and fought my way to the finish because the dirt was thicker than I expected.

The volunteers pulled me off the track after I finished and let me wait for my Rabbit before leading us through the players' entrance to the elevators to get back up to the deck. I made a wide turn towards guest services under the watchful eye of the woman that kept Saber... she chuckled at my turn and commented that I looked worn out. I was. It took a couple tries to get myself pulled up from Tsunami. As we stretched, our spectating friend came and found us, then walked us out to my car before heading to a meeting. We changed, grabbed our lunches, then went inside to see where our friend may be on the course. Turned out she was tearing it up and would probably be in soon so we went to find a spot to watch the finish and eat some food. We were able to catch her after her finish and give her some hugs before we called it a day.

I also made sure to send the race director my feedback on the course a couple days later.. she thanked me and said she'd hang onto my email for future wheelchair participants.

Me heading into the finish and a Rabbit in the background chasing me down

A Rabbit, a Master Photographer/Spectator, and me after the race!

Aaaaaand one more great finish for the day!

Repercussions

The mind is a powerful thing.

The mind is also weak.

Two lessons I learned this week. Lessons that came out of pure frustrations. I went home early from work one day this week because immense stress had left me with far too many physical and emotional reactions.... it's definitely time to call it a day when you burst into tears while designing a cookie box. Once home, I took a friend's helpful suggestion wrong, but rather than reacting (luckily I had already admitted to myself that I was highly emotional) I decided to go for a run. Figured it would help the stress as well...

Not so much.

You see, ever since I fell during the marathon, I've been afraid to fall again. I've had some bad run ins with hills, some panicky moments, but I kept telling myself I needed to fully recover from Dopey. Get my strength back. So for my run, I went to a trail that I frequent quite a bit, one I know I can do... but when I had to turn around for the third time, I got mad. At myself, at Tsunami, at the trail, and finally, at my brother (but more on that one later). I had gotten myself stuck between two inclines that I couldn't get up and ended up charging at one of them. I wasn't ready for it and ended up rolling backwards, desperately trying to stop without flipping. As Tsunami finally stilled, halfway off the trail and no longer pointing in any useful direction, I had found my answer; I was too afraid to fall and wasn't reacting like I usually do in this kind of situation.

Growing up, my brother constantly pushed me, mentally and physically. He's the only person I truly fought with, so much that it actually became a game between us. I'll never know if he did these things on purpose, but he taught me to stand up for myself, made me see that I had the will and determination to keep getting back up, and pointed out that I was too stubborn to give up.

So as I sat cockeyed halfway off the trail, I realized he had taken some of that fight with him, or at least an essential part, and I hadn't realized it. If I had fallen before, I would have been out as soon as possible attacking hills.. going balls to the wall trying to figure out how to do it right. I didn't fight; instead I let the fear settle in. I decided that was unacceptable.

I tasted a little bit of that fight when I went back the way I came and made it up that incline. A little bit more when I finally stood up for myself at work and demanded my supervisor to listen for once, then called my brother an asshole for making my iPod play a song I couldn't possibly stay mad during. And today, I made it halfway up a hill that was a bit too much for me and became a bit more comfortable lifting my front wheel to turn around. It's going to be small steps to get back where I was, both in the chair and in my personality, but at least I'm moving forward. At least I feel that determination seeping back in. Most of all, I welcome that familiar will that makes me always stand up just one more time than I fall.