Browsed by
Tag: #runwolfpack

2017 East Bay 510k (Berkeley, CA) Race Report

2017 East Bay 510k (Berkeley, CA) Race Report

The last time I ran the East Bay 510k, it was an entirely different race. Then, it was called the Let’s Go 510k, and the course was pretty different, as well: beginning and ending at the horse race track in Berkeley, with some miles along the Bay Trail (I think?) sandwiched in between. In 2015, I approached the 10k with no expectations or goals because just a few days earlier, I had surgery to fetch a runaway IUD that had perforated my uterus (and while I was under, my surgeon noticed that my appendix was “on its way out,” so he went ahead and took that out, as well). Plus, in 2015, I was freshly postpartum, and if memory serves, that might have been my first race post-G. At any rate, even with the weird extenuating factors, including arriving to the race late and starting DFL — so late that the timing mats switched from “start” to “finish” mode — it was a fantastic morning, even though everything about my run that day was kinda a wash.

arguably one of the coolest race experiences ever was hanging with Magda and Owen pre-race. A even raced a lot of the kids’ race alongside her! You can see I am cheesing HARD about this.

Fast forward a couple years, to Sunday, and I ran what’s now called the East Bay 510k, a 10k that began somewhat near the old course, in Berkeley, and ended in downtown Emeryville, on Bay St. The East Bay 510k is the last in the series of Run the Bay events, put on by Represent Running, and the race name signifies its connection to the East Bay (with 510 being an area code for East Bay residents). Earlier in the year, RR hosted the San Jose 408k (my fav road race in SJ) and the Across the Bay 415k in SF. This was my third year being a social media ambassador for RR, but unfortunately, illness and travel kept me away from the other two Run the Bay events this year. I was pleased to finally run a RR event, and I was curious to see how different things would be or feel from the last time I did this event in ‘15.

Coach Lisa gave me pretty specific instructions for this race: namely, that it’d be part of the LR for the day and that it wouldn’t be a “race race” as much as a solid progression, beginning around marathon pace (~7:30) and cutting down ~10 seconds each mile. She, Andy (another Wolfpack teammate), and I carpooled up north for the race, and with Lisa being the lead bike for the 5k and Andy running the 5k — which had a 30-minute earlier start time than the 10k — we dropped Andy off at the start line and parked at the finish line in Emeryville. I was planning on running 5-6 miles as a warm-up — basically just running to the start and then meandering for a while — and if all went well, I’d finish my warm-up just about 5 minutes before the start of the 10k and would hop in, ready to roll.

I quickly learned during my warm-up that while running north was wonderful, running south was going to be a bit hairy. Temps felt nice and almost autumnal, with thick and emo-y cloud cover (and perhaps a bit of humidity for Bay Area standards), but the wind out of the south was intense. I was glad that I noticed it during my warm-up because it blew. Momjoke game strong! No, really, I could tell right away that running south was going to be unnecessarily challenging. I chatted with some RR ambassador buddies, like Christina, Bertrand, and Brian, as well as my Wolfpack teammate Ida, on the start line, and before long, we crossed under the starting arch that had minutes earlier been live-graffitied by an East Bay graffiti artist.

with some RR ambassadors before the 10k. note the flags flappin’! (PC: Brian/@pavementrunner)

While very little of the ‘17 race was similar to the ‘15 iteration, the first two miles seemed to feature some of the original ‘15 course. Immediately off the line, we hung a right and did a loop around a couple little parks, first Eastshore State Park and then Cesar Chavez Park. There were teeny tiny undulations in the first park, as well as some periodic loose gravel/trail “lite” terrain, but with the overcast day and the reprieve from heading south, it was actually pretty nice. It was hard to not fly off the starting line, but I kept telling myself let them go, let them go as racers kept passing me. I tried not to clockwatch, but after my first mile came in at 7:11, I told myself that I just had to stay there — and not go faster — for at least another mile.

Once we exited Cesar Chavez Park, around mile 2, Coach Lisa had made her way back on bike and was riding along the course cheering for runners. (Andy won the 5k open, and another teammate, Leilani, was the third woman!). I checked in with Lisa, telling her that I had started faster than she wanted me to, but that I was trying to hang at the same pace before really trying to cut down. I’m sure I must have also muttered something about the ferocious wind, too, because I remember her telling me to go by effort and not pace for the southbound miles — basically the rest of the race — and thus, softly giving me permission to ignore the workout as prescribed. It happens. It was windy enough that even while wearing sunglasses for protection, I could feel the tears being literally sucked out of my eyes when we were going south. Yeah. Slightly unpleasant. Oh well though, right? You can’t control the weather. Don’t waste your mental energy on it.

I *think* around mile 2, in one of the parks, before making our way south for an OAB. (PC: Lisa)

After Eastshore Park, circa mile 3, the 10k runners did a quick OAB on the frontage road/Bay Trail, just like we do on the back half of the Berkeley Half Marathon (and maybe even on the same stretch of the path, if I recall correctly). I saw that I had moved up to 2nd woman, after passing a few women around miles 2.5-3. Once we began the “back” portion of this OAB, that’d be the last time during the 10k where we wouldn’t be heading into the wind, so I tried to use the elements advantageously. The lead woman, Stephanie — who was 3rd at the Race to the End of Summer half a couple weeks before — wasn’t far ahead of me, and she looked great. Earlier in the morning, we chatted on the start line, and I was trying to recruit her to our team (standing invite, gal!). Anyway, I saw Lisa again right as I began my “back” portion, and I just focused on picking up the pace ever-so-slightly, knowing that I was about to run the final 5k of this 10k directly into a tear-sucking headwind.

going north for the last time, somewhere circa mile 3 (PC: Lisa)

Between miles 3 and 4, after the OAB, we crossed over the interstate and headed into what seemed like an industrial section of Emeryville (or maybe Berkeley, not sure), with warehouse after warehouse lining the streets. As we were literally over and then descending from the pedestrian interstate bridge, I kept inching closer to Stephanie (F1), and I finally made a move right at the bottom of the descent and pulled ahead. She looked good and strong, and as much as I was slightly terrified of making a move and exploding over the final 2.2, I just went for it. I feel stupid saying it, but I’m actually somewhat proud of myself for just going for it at this point in my race (or workout, whatevs). I’ve been trying in earnest this year to cultivate some confidence in taking risks more with my running — essentially, getting comfortable with what might sound like ludicrous ideas (you want me to run what!?) and not being afraid of failing tremendously — but it’s (obviously) a lot easier said than done. Comfort zones are comfort zones for a reason. I have no idea what compelled me to pull away when I did, but I had made up my mind that I was going to go for it. YOLO.

By about mile 4, there was now a pretty big chasm between me (first female) and the closest guy, who was ahead of me by at least 20-30 seconds, but he was close enough that I could see where he was and thus, where I needed to be. Lisa was circling back and forth between me, Stephanie, Ida, and the other racers, and “my” lead bike stayed just about smack dab between the closest guy ahead of me and me. Miles 4-6 were essentially a straight shot south — right into that wind — through a series of warehouse-laden streets and a little city park that ran parallel to the interstate. Like the rest of the course, these final 2 miles were flat, save for the tiniest of undulations in just a couple places, and sparse with spectators, pedestrians, or volunteers. Had I not been wearing my singlet or bib, I would have felt like I was just out for a Sunday stroll because everything felt so low-key.

she’s a sneaky one! (PC: Lisa, obvs)

Right after mile 6, we hung a left, and then right, to finish on the upscale shops-lined Bay St, pretty similar to Santana Row and the finish line of the 408k. I ran by myself from mile 4-onward, and right as we approached the finish line, I could peripherally see a guy come up on my left side. I heard the announcers yelling that the first female for the 10k was coming in, and them announcing my name, which was pretty cool. 🙂 It seemed like this guy wanted to race in to the finish (sure), so I gave chase and beat him. Bonus: I got to break tape for the first time ever as first female, which made my little runner heart so happy. (I later found out that Andy also got to break the tape for the first time ever, too, that morning).

almost there (PC: Lisa)

 

steps away from finishing the thing! (PC: Meredith)

 

heyheyhey!

I didn’t approach the 510k with a particular time goal simply because I knew it was going to be a workout, so I honestly felt pretty indifferent to my finish time — which was a little weird. My time was literal minutes off the last 10k I ran in May (and PRed), but I felt like I put in a good effort at the 510k, particularly on all the south-bound, windy as hell miles; we’ll call this “mental callusing.” When I kept wanting to dissociate from the discomfort of trying to run hard and fast into what felt like a freaking vacuum, I repeatedly brought myself back to the here and now and tried to stay mentally in it, which isn’t easy for me. I had a blast on the course, though, and definitely think that this course and race experience was a great improvement over the Let’s Go 510k iteration. Having the tie-in to the Warriors was a nice touch, too, what with the blue and gold race tees that said “home of champions” along the back. I’m as fairweather as they come with that type of thing, and even I liked it.

too funny not to share. A (6) saw this pic and asked me, “Mommy, why do you look like” and proceeded to act out death. GOOD QUESTION, KID!

As I finished the race, I was delighted to see that Chicago-turned-Berkeley bud Meredith had made it out to the finish line and got to see me come in. I had somehow managed to not see her since Big Sur (what?!), so we had plenty of catching-up to do. She, Lisa, Ida (who scored a 10k PR, yea!) and I went out for a 4 mile CD along the Bay Trail, putting me at just shy of 16 for the day. It was awesome to get in additional mileage with these ladies because though I saw Ida at RTTEOS a couple weeks back, we didn’t get to run together, and since both she and Lisa are doing NYC, Meredith and I were sharing NYC tips hot and heavy during our miles together. Once we returned, we learned that Ida had notched herself a nice AG placing and that I earned a $75 Athleta GC for winning the women’s open. It was a great morning and an enjoyable way to quietly begin training for CIM.

with the team, minus Leilani (PC: Meredith)

If you run the East Bay 510k, as well as the other two events in the Run the Bay series, you’re eligible to receive a special medal “I run the bay” medal that recognizes you for your efforts. I think it’s a wonderful idea, especially for people who are into race bling, and I really like the way Represent Running/JT Service, RR’s founder runs his races. JT is all about the idea of “run local” (or running locally, anyway), and he strives to ensure that his races reflect the unique environs where they take place. There isn’t any “big box” element to any RR race I’ve done before, and I think it’s a nice touch that distinguishes it from many other road races out there. I think that this race will grow in popularity over time — particularly if Warriors fever stays high — and I think that more people will begin using it as a tune-up for RNR SJ in October once word gets out that it’s so conducive to fast running. I found it odd that a lot of the stores in Bay St. Emeryville weren’t open early, when the 5k and 10k runners came in, because it seemed like a huge opportunity for them to make a ton of money off hungry runners and their supporters; again, maybe that’ll come in time. I don’t think the 510k course is especially scenic, but if you’re looking for a flat and fast 5k or 10k option, these courses are definitely well-suited for PR opportunities and strong running. I would do this race again.

 

had to include this one, too: Andy casually running a 17:xx 5k , the day after he ran about the same time at another 5k in Campbell (and also won). (PC: your mom, just kidding. does anyone read this?)

 

And with that: we marathon train!

2017 Golden Gate Park XC Open (SF, CA) – race report

2017 Golden Gate Park XC Open (SF, CA) – race report

Another weekend, another race. Gotta love autumn.

This past Sunday, several teammates and I raced in San Francisco, in Golden Gate Park, at the GGP Cross Country open meet. I’ve raced many times in GGP before, but I’ve never run a XC meet there — remember, this type of running and racing is all brand new to me — so I had no idea what to expect. Apparently the organizers had to do a late-minute course change to accommodate some other event that was going on in part of the park where we’d be racing, so all I knew going in was that the race would be a 6k (3.7 miles and change, you’re welcome).

My teammates and I couldn’t have been more delighted to be racing on Sunday during our warm-up and course preview. Karl the Fog was out in force, so thick that we couldn’t really see across the polo field that was the starting/ending/staging area of the race, and the temperature was pretty perfect for racing: cool, crisp, and foggy. During our warm-up miles, Mona, Claire, Lisa, Christina, and I got a decent idea of what we’d be encountering on the course, and it promised to be fun — good and challenging fun. It seemed like right around the time that you’d start to get comfortable and settle in, something topographical would change pretty dramatically, and it’d behoove you to figure out how to change gears — and very fast. There wouldn’t be much cruising, but instead, lots of reacting and responding.

Our glee over the fog and autumnal racing weather was short-lived because probably around mile 1.75 of our 2 mile warm-up, Nature apparently flipped a switch and quickly exterminated the fog and threw some hot sun overhead for our race. The women’s race usually gets the better end of the weather deal in these XC races — compared to the men, who race an hour after the women, and thus, typically have much warmer weather — but this time around, we, too, would get some heat for a change. Another teammate, Julie, still in injury rehab mode, jumped in with us to race, and before too long, things were moving.

Right after the gun. You can see Lisa front and center and Claire just a little behind her. I’m tucked back on the right. (PC: Wolfpack friend Craig)

 

It’s like magic. (PC: Craig)

For being “just” a 6k, the terrain of this race was awesomely varied. We began our first mile with a lap around the polo fields, and from there, we jutted into an adjacent woodsy area that abutted the track. Once we got into the woodsy area, we had a couple little hills and chased that by cutting back over to the polo fields, running on some sidewalks, dirt paths, and mud in the process. The muddy path, parallel to JFK Drive, gave our backsides some sweet reminders of our morning’s work for the morning. Shortly after the mile 2 marker somewhere near JFK, we jumped off the muddy path and hopped into some sweet and delicious — and narrow — twisty singletrack, which made for a great and terrifying game of how strong are your ancillary muscles going to be today?! Hopefully strong enough! In this brief part of the course, being light and quick was paramount, else you’d faceplant over an exposed (or covered) tree root. Awesome. Following the singletrack, we popped over to a grassy area that, thankfully, was much more open — and more conducive to passing people (and being passed) — before we again hopped back onto some singletrack, got spit back onto the polo field track, and repeated another almost-lap around it. Many runners mistakenly thought that we’d be finishing our XC trek once we got back onto the track, but the leaders off in the distance revealed the actual truth: that we got to return to the woods, the hillier part of the course, for one final foray up, over, and through. Once we finished our second tour of the woods, we landed back on the track and finished the race with a final ~100 meters or so into the finish line, not far from where our race began just a few miles earlier.

Going around the track for our first lap, sometime before mile 1. (PC: one of the Wolfpack guys! He was making me laugh, as you can tell)

 

Coming out of the woods, sometime between mile 1 and 2. (PC: Wolfpack teammate)

 

Maybe sometime between mile 2 and 3 or between 3 and the end; I can’t remember. (PC: Wolfpack teammate)

A loose gravel track, sand, roots, mud, singletrack, grass, and a couple token flat sections: holy shit, cross country is tough!

right at the finish, rejoicing! haha (PC: Craig, I think)

… but man, is it fun.

It’s like playing tag with a huge group through nature, with some of nature’s finest obstacles thrown in for good measure.

When I show up to a XC race, so far, I’ve shown up without any goals or expectations beyond “I want to work hard and make the commute and time away from family worth it.” I find it difficult to set up a time goal or an exact pace goal simply because a) I’m still quite green in this department and b) I have no idea of how to estimate or scale my road paces to completely different terrain(s). I know this is totally earth-shattering, but it is really hard to run fast and hard while navigating terrain that’s not pancake flat. You heard it here first!

and for what it’s worth, running on flats is still really hard after you’re trying to push on tricky terrain. I look like a flamingo, so that’s cool. I think this is right before mile 3, right before we went back to the woods for round 2. (PC: a Wolfpack teammate)

On Sunday, just about any time I’d think ok, this is good, I’ll stick here for a while, I’d find that we were about to encounter a topo change that’d necessitate some fancy footwork and a recalibration of effort, turnover … everything, really. A++ to the course organizers for the variety. You definitely can’t be bored in XC.

I always feel like / somebody’s chaaaaaasing me (PC: Craig)

Perhaps needless to say, but I had a blast. This XC race and course was challenging in different ways than the Santa Cruz race, and I finished feeling pretty satisfied with my effort. If nothing else, I was sufficiently content with my run that I felt it justified the time away from the family for the morning. I think I have a lot of room for improvement in figuring out how to better pace these races — and in particular, learning how to let the course work for me — but that’s part of the fun. I have absolutely no idea how this all translates into marathon or road fitness, but it’s doing a wonder for my grittiness. This shit’s tough.

 

the lady squad from Sunday: Claire, Julie, Lisa, Christina, Mona, CT, and Alice puppy. (PC: Wolfpack RC IG)

After the open women’s race, some teammates and I went on a long, 10k or so cooldown, putting me at a little over 11 miles for the day, a week after running the RTTEOS and two weeks out from pacing at SRM. Fun aside: while we were running on Great Highway, a quick stop at a bathroom blessed me with a most excellent encounter with a kite-high woman who was oogling over my legs — calling me badass and other questionable descriptors that I’ve since conveniently blocked from memory, after she finished sizing me up — so there’s that. Oh, SF.

I haven’t begun training in earnest for CIM, but I think that this XC business is a nice prelude to some hard marathon training efforts. If nothing else, these races are excellent in terms of mental engagement or fostering mental grittiness, insomuch that for me at least, I can’t imagine checking-out when I’m racing these XC runs. The distance passes quickly, for sure, but it’s an intense effort, especially when you consider how you have to try to manage the fatigue that your body is enduring while trying to run hard and not fall or trip on any of Nature’s assorted obstacles. In road races, it’s easy to dissociate from the pain, and you can do so knowing with a fairly high degree of certainty that you can autopilot; I mean, I guess there’s always the chance that you might randomly trip on something, but you’re probably not going to encounter a tree root, a path of sand, or a slippery mud spot in the middle of the SF Marathon or Rock n Roll San Jose. In XC, on the other hand, it seems that dissociating would actually be super detrimental, just because — at least on a course like this one — you encounter such varied terrain over so few miles that you absolutely have to be paying hyper-attention to how your body is feeling, the earth your body is encountering, and how much easier or more difficult this new terrain feels than what you were running on just moments before. It’s a mental game as much as it is physical. It’s cool.

 

Our full squad from Sunday. (PC: Wolfpack RC IG)

 

As far as I know, these PA XC races are open to anyone, and they’re super cheap and no-frills. If you ever find yourself near one, definitely check it out! It’s hard as hell, of course, but I think that’s what makes it really fun, too. The discomfort is over quickly, anyway.