Monterey Bay Half
Just before mile seven of the Monterey Bay Half, the pace card slipped out of my shorts. I didn't go back for it.
Just before mile seven of the Monterey Bay Half, the pace card slipped out of my shorts. I didn't go back for it.
Places
Twenty miles, four climbs and 4,300 feet of vert on a Big Sur fire road you can't get lost on. The long run I've trained on for ten years.
Three summers ago, above Donner Lake, I lost my phone, my route and almost my nerve. What brought me back was paying attention.
An hour on a treadmill, then a ridge above the fog two days later. Forty-two miles this week, and what each run asked me to pay attention to.
The third mile took almost eleven minutes. Near the top, a song came on, and the next two miles were among the fastest of the day.
Morning miles open the day. Friday miles close the week, and the best ones end at Inspiration Point.
The training block goes flat, and the same week you sign up for something new. It feels like ambition. It has a cost most runners never see coming.
Bike races at thirteen, then triathlon, then the road and the trail. 162 finish lines over 36 years, every one of them kept here.
At 6:30 on a weekday morning, the only traffic in Hyde Park is runners and horses. Get there early and watch London go from stillness to speed.
Just under 25,000 miles since 2015, almost all of them on ordinary days. Small deposits, made consistently, compound.
Fourteen miles around the Monterey Peninsula: the coast, the forest, the ridge, and one detail at the end you only catch if you stop.
About two miles up, Jill asked the question every first-timer asks. I gave her the answer every veteran gives.