Race Report: Home Depot San Francisco Half Marathon
January 31, 1999


I've been concentrating on my running lately, and the SF 1/2
seemed like a good race to get a benchmark time to see how
I've been doing. As it happened, I was going to be in the
city for a party the night before anyway, so at least I wouldn't
have to drive all the way in from the South Bay. Good idea, huh?

I was good the night before and helf myself to a single beer
as well as making it to bed by 1:00. I'd arranged for crash space in
Berkeley, so I planned to get up around 5:45 and head
over to the race for an 8:00 start. I didn't sleep very
well but still managed to get up and out of the house by 
6:15. Plenty of time. Of course it's raining and cold, which
pretty much sucks. 

Unfortunately, somewhere between the freeway and the start
things went badly wrong. I'll spare you the sordid details and
just say that I spent about 45 minutes lost wandering around
the city and only got to the parking are at 7:30, with
registration ending at 7:45. I was pretty panicked at
this point, but I did manage to get registered and into
the PortaJohn line by 7:50. 

This would have been a lot more useful if the line for the
PortaJohns hadn't been 20 minutes long. As it was, I was
still standing in line when the gun went off and was faced
with the choice of starting way behind or making an emergency
pit stop half way through the race. I chose to wait, so I ended
up starting 10 minutes late. At least it's not raining.

It's a little annoying to be this far back in the pack because,
well, I'm going a lot faster. I'm shooting for 1:25 or 1:26
and this means doing pretty much 6:30 miles, which puts me
fairly far up in the pack, and right now I'm behind even
the people who are doing 10 minute miles. 

The first mile is downhill and I hit it in 6:24. I'm not sure
how to handle this, since I know I'm going to slow down on the
way back and I want to run constant effort. I pick up the
pace a little bit and hit mile two in 6:21. I'm not tired
but I am breathing hard and I'm having trouble drinking from
the bottle of ORS I'm carrying with me. Still, I'm glad I
brought it, since there don't seem to be any water stations
for quite a while. 

We turn the corner and mile 3 is uphill and sure enough I
slow, but still turn in a respectable 6:39. Now that I've got
it calibrated, I know I can pick it up and I drop mile 4 in
6:33, right on target. Unfortunately, I'm now somewhere
in the middle of the speed distribution and it takes a lot
of weaving to not get trapped behind people. I'm also starting
to get fairly tired and I'm not sure how much longer I can
keep up, but I'm determined to hold my pace as long as I can,
even if that means I really crater at the end.

Mile 5 has a slight uphill, but it's mainly rolling and
I do it in 6:31. I drop my now empty bottle at the next aid
station and make a largely futile stab at getting some water.
Still, it's cool and damp, so I'm not too worried about getting
dehydrated.

The next few miles are rolling and it feels like I'm going more down
then up, which worries me since I'm sure I'm going to pay later,
but I've still got to take advantage of it now, so I try to run constant
effort and fast. 

6:18
6:24
6:16. 

I don't feel anything. I just run.

Around mile 9 we take the turn for the Great Highway, which runs
right along the coast. It's really windy and my hat comes off.
I'm sure I'm going to want it later and I stop to pick it up,
but I can't get it to stay on. The hat's soaked and the velcro
won't stick and it's windy and I'm tired. I finally give up
and stuff it in the back of my shorts. At this point I'm
regretting not wearing shades. It's not bright, but without 
the hat, my hair is blowing in my eyes and it's real distracting.

The two miles to the turnaround are downhill with a massive
tailwind and I don't have any choice but to crank it and try
to make up for the time I'll lose on the way back. I try to
make my way through the pack but it's just too dense and I end
up running on the left of the cones. I'm not supposed to,
but the leaders are few and far between and I can stay out
of their way.

At this point, I'm running pretty much as fast as I can -- 
I can't go much faster than 6:00 miles on a good day and
what with the downhill and the wind I'm practically sprinting.
I go by some people I know from the Palo Alto Run Club
and have just enough left to flash them a V sign and
then they're gone. I hit the two downhill miles in 6:16 and 6:17.

The turnaround comes about midway through mile 10 and suddenly all is
not well: There's this wall in the middle of the road.  That wind that
felt so good on the way down is punishing now and I'm
having trouble running straight as the gusts blow me from
side to side. I slow down a lot and hit the marker
in 6:39.

I've got three miles to go and it's pretty much uphill all
the way. Time to push. This is what I came for.

I won't say I do them fast, but I don't fade too much and pull mile 11
in 7:04. I'm still passing people, though.  I run by someone from my
pool and we clasp hands. Rather, I'm pretty dazed and he grabs my
hand and I grab back. He stays with me for a minute and then he's
off the back. Must. Keep. Pushing. 7:09.

1.1 to go and I don't want to leave anything on the course. It's
only 8 minutes. I can do this. It's only half a mile to the 
turn off of the Great Highway and what a relief: It's uphill
but it's a tailwind. Almost there -- I get on the gas. 
I should be able to crank a half mile, but I can't. I start
to feel dizzy and I have to back off about half way.
 
Final turn, 100 meters to go. Downhill. I resist the urge to
look at my watch and put the hammer down all the way for the
final sprint to the finish line. The clock's reading 1:36 and
change and I hit my watch. Should be about 1:28. But I've misread
the start time and I've got even more slack than I thought.
1:25:59. My goal pace and a new PR.