LA Marathon - Part 1

On paper a marathon is nothing more than a person traveling 26.2 miles on their own feet. Nothing spectacular until you start looking deeper into how this affects the body and you look at the reality of how few people ever attempt this distance. A US study showed that 1 in 126,626 runners die from sudden cardiac arrest while running a marathon. Die...in a marathon...that seems to me to be a major effect on your body. This means marathons are more dangerous than playing football, scuba diving or even rock climbing. So it stands to reason that a small percentage of the population actually attempt a marathon. In 2011 approx. 518,000 runners finished a marathon in the US - out of a population of over 311 million. And while the exact number is nearly impossible to calculate somewhere between .1%-2% of the world's population has EVER run a marathon. I sure am glad I didn't research that data BEFORE I set off to run the LA Marathon - ignorance is bliss.

The days before the marathon I would obsessively check the weather report. 30% chance of rain, became 40%, which eventually topped out at 80%...wonderful, my first marathon and it's going to rain in LA! It took a few days, but soon I relented and began the planning process for a wet run. Trash bag vs. poncho. do I change shoes at mile 15? change shirts? Which shorts will keep the chafing to a minimum? So many questions to answer and only one run in the rain to use as a gauge. By the time I went to bed the night before the marathon it was almost certain that there would be either minimal or no rain, so the worrying was for not...at least it kept my mind off the marathon.

Everything was planned, prepared and packed as best I could...my wife was even armed with a race day packet that contained directions to drop me off at the start, directions to mile 15, and to the finish line...with full color maps and alternate routes. The traffic to the start was horrendous...are we surprised that LA traffic was bad?? So, I arrived at the start line about 15 minutes before the start...in a way it was perfect, no time to get nervous, no time to get cold...but almost no time to properly tie my shoes. The national anthem was great, the horn sounded for the elite women and the 13 minute countdown until we started was on. We shuffled forward trying to avoid puddles and discarded items as we went and before long I was under the start banner...iPod started and I was off on my adventure.

I knew that there would be people along the road cheering, but I never realized how many and how enthusiastic and generous they would be. The first few miles were mostly downhill which made them seem to pass effortlessly. At about mile 4 the biggest hill loomed ahead. I planned on walking the hill...I was feeling good and I wanted to run it, but I convinced myself to stick to the game plan.

Around mile 5 I came in full contact with the generosity and awesomeness of the people of LA. I have run half marathons in Culver City, Anaheim, Long Beach, and the OC, but I was not prepared for what was ahead of me. First it was one simple sign on cardboard..."Free Chili Dogs"...then another sign..."Free Homemade Chili Dogs"...then a third sign "Free Chili Dogs. Runners Only!" And then...there he was...a guy standing on the side of the road, small Weber grill in front of him, tongs in hand, and chili peculating on the side. If you overlook the fact that a chili dog at mile 5 of a marathon is digestive suicide, this was an amazing sight! This took planning! This guy felt he needed to help the people running the marathon and so he thought feeding them would help.....but what does he feed them??? Pretzels???...nah, not substantial enough...bananas???...nah, too slimy...Gummi Bears???...nah, too sticky....nope he decided that the best thing to feed marathoners running past him would be chili dogs...as I was passing this scene I couldn't help but chuckle as I noticed a young runner grabbing a chili dog...I looked to the guy running next to me and said, "that's not going to end well!" He responded, "Let's stay ahead of him." Good plan...and so I kept up the pace...

I was feeling good...probably better than I expected, but I knew the pain was waiting for me somewhere ahead...the only question was where...

It never rains in Southern California…unless you are running 13 miles- PART 2

The plan was simple – a friend of mine was running a 5k in downtown LA which just happens to be about 13 miles away from my house. The rain drumming on the roof created a perfect melody for sleeping, that coupled with the fact that my bed was extra warm and comfortable made it impossible for me to get up as my alarm sounded at 4:45am….snooze…10 minutes later the alarm sounded again…snooze…alarm…snooze…finally Denise’s elbow in my kidney was just the right amount of encouragement I needed to get out of bed. I dressed slowly in the dark waiting for a valid excuse to skip the run and get back into bed – nothing came to mind, so I set out on my trek to downtown…only 45 minutes behind my scheduled departure time – somehow my mind failed to recognize the fact that I would miss the 5k entirely.



Sidewalks at intersections in California typically slope 5% towards the gutter which slopes back towards the sidewalk 3%, this creates a nice canal for run-off to travel down, so it can get to the drain and eventually to the ocean – as we learned in Nemo – all drains lead to the ocean. These facts are usually of little importance, but on a morning you choose to run in what some Southern California’s would call “a torrential down pour” these simple truths become of paramount importance. The first intersection brought several options – jump over the raging river, go over the river somewhere close to the intersection where the river seem to be at it’s narrowest, or just run through the water and accept the fact that I was going to get wet…I had put ben-gay on my legs the night before and stretched before my run, so I felt limber enough to make the jump…the reflection from the street light seem to go on and on, making me realize I had severally under-estimated the width of the river…SPLASH! Well, that didn’t work out well…in less then half a mile I had to accept the fact that I was completely soaked…12.5 miles to go!



The rest of the run I resigned myself to the fact that just running through the puddles was not going to get me any wetter, so despite odd looks from drivers passing me in the comfort over their cars, I jumped, hopped and maybe once or twice, skipped through the approximately 100 streams I encountered on my run. I arrived in downtown LA 40 minutes after the 5k my friend was running in had started…I know he’s slow, but I don’t think he’s that slow, so I cheered for him…on the inside. I called my wife to pick me up and she was on her way before we even hung up. We planned to meet at an intersection ½ mile up the road. I tried to time her drive in my head so we would arrive at my extraction point at approximately the same time…I sprinted the last block (which for some reason made me feel like I was 10 years old), turned of my iPod and found a good spot for her to park to pick me up...unfortunately LA traffic decided that I would need to wait another ½ an hour. In 13 miles on the streets of Los Angeles I learned that I could indeed run in the rain, that I was an “*@#!(@~! Loco” (as was noted by a man waiting for a bus with his wife), and that jumping over, around and through puddles makes a run go by much faster!