La Jolla Half Marathon Recap

“Like every other race, we’ll deal with what we got, put our best foot forward and give it all we got!” That was part of the caption on my Instagram post the night before the race. I had been sick for the past two weeks something awful. I hadn’t been laid out this bad in years. No, it wasn’t Covid. Multiple tests ruled that out. Even as I’m writing this, I still don’t feel quite at 100%, but I’m almost there. Wifey had suggested that maybe I don’t run, take the L and chalk up my first DNS. To be honest, I did think about for a hot second. But, I thought about how there’s hella people out there going through worse and realized that I could deal with not feeling my best. The ego in me also said, “Remember who the fuck you are. They don’t call you John Beast for nothing!” Hey, just keeping it a buck!

Got all my things prepped, set that alarm and crashed out for the night. 4am wake-up call is never the one, but there it went off. Took care of business and got all dressed. Before me and the family dipped, I took down a phat shot of Dayquil to get calm the cough and ease up the headache. Off we went in the dark to the finish line to catch the shuttle bus to the start. Kissed the fam and got on board the bus and took a quick nap as we headed to Del Mar.

Flat John felt more ready than Full John.

This was my seventh time running this race, so I know the routine. Skipped the porta potties and made a beeline to the bathrooms inside the buildings of the fairgrounds. They’re way more comfortable, no lines and no feeling of being rushed. Shhh. Don’t tell anyone else! With about forty-five minutes left to gun start, I caught up with all my run buds, had a few laughs, asked the usual pre-race questions – You ready? How you feeling? What’s the goal?

Finally, we’re about ready to go. I know it’s not gonna be a great race – I hadn’t ran more than three miles in the past two weeks. Lungs felt somewhat heavy with a suppressed dry cough. Body felt weak. Despite that, I thought, maybe I could hold a seven minute pace. Hey, miracles happen sometimes! But in reality, I knew that finishing in 1:35 (7:15 pace) was probably a more realistic goal. The announcer yells, “GO!” and we’re gone. Off the top, I knew that I really gotta lean on running smart to make up whatever time I’m losing from not feeling good. I thought to myself, “Well, we’ll know within the first few miles how this will go.” The first couple of miles are flat. I tuck in behind the 1:30 pace pack and try to draft off the group. The first two miles go by fast at around 6:40 pace.

As we pass the mile two marker, the first set of hills start to approach. I’m always surprised at how hilly it is getting out of Del Mar. The next couple of miles we cross the train tracks and zig zag through the neighborhood as we slowly climb to the top of the town. That last hill is a short, steep fucker that zaps a bunch of energy. As I get to the top, turn right and head toward the beach, I finally know how this race is gonna go. And it’s not gonna be pretty. As I end mile four and start mile five, it’s starts descending towards Torrey Pines State Beach. The descent starts gradual and gets more dramatic before it levels off at the beach. It should feel light and breezy and easy to pick up the pace because of gravity. But it’s not. I feel like I’m having to work hard.

Elevation chart of the La Jolla Half Marathon

After the beauty of the beach, you have the enormity of the mountain of state park you have to ascend. A steep climb from sea level to over five hundred feet over about a mile and a half. You already know it’s gonna shred your legs, but with feeling meh, the effort feels even more of a struggle. The road twists and turns up the hill with lots of false peaks – where you think you reached the top only to discover that it still climbs. Finally I had enough and I gotta walk. Legs are torched. Breathing isn’t labored per se, but I just feel like I’m not getting enough oxygen in my lungs. One of my former athletes runs up past me and says, “Let’s go coach!” That sparks some energy back into me. I take off running again and keep going up the hill. Finally get out of the park and back onto the streets and I’m spent!

Worker bee working the first part of the hill at Torrey Pines State Park

The next couple of miles are long rollers that starts with a long slight ascent after the park. It’s definitely easier to power through it compared to the park hill, but my body is already halfway on the struggle bus! I do my best to get through these rollers. I try to run smart and take advantage and recover on the easy descents and get through the climbs. The body is not having it! “Why are we still running, dog?” “Shut up! We just gotta get to UCSD.” I’m searching for mile 10 where we turn towards the UCSD campus. Halfway through that mile the course just drops just as dramatically as it shot up at the park to kick you out to the boardwalk at La Jolla Shores.

Finally pass the dorms and hit that drop. Off to the races we go! The descent down twists and turns and is hella steep. It’s easy to want to hit the brakes when running down it because you feel like you’re going to fall. Running down that steep of a descent is an art where you’re right on the border of having control and losing control. You want to have just the right amount of forward lean – not too much or else you’re gonna fall for sure! Don’t lean back too much or else you’re landing on your heels and feeling that jarring sensation through your body with each step. It takes a lot of core strength to keep that perfect. The curves cause you to want to flail your arms out to the side to balance yourself. You try to keep them tucked and moving front to back or at least just flailing out at the elbows. You’re naturally going to run a much faster pace because of the decline, so it’s best to just let it happen and let speed take over. Knowing all of this, I use it to catch folks less experienced or too scared to take the brakes off completely. I clock in my fastest mile at 5:57. I’m super happy with it.

These last two and a half miles I know like the back of my hand! My old gym I worked at was in La Jolla Village. Running from the village to Scripps Pier north of the shores and back was my routine! It was my workhouse backyard. I know this part of the course. After bombing down the hill past Scripps Aquarium, we hit that right and get onto the boardwalk at the beach. The legs are giving out on me; I do my best to hold on. I do my best to keep the momentum from the hill, but my pace slows naturally. I do my best to keep it feeling decent. Off the boardwalk, we weave around that neighborhood and approach the last climb. Immediately climbing up out of the beach is a short, yet steep hill of about a half mile. Legs are dead. I can’t keep running up this hill. I’m disappointed because this is my route, but I give in and walk to take a quick breather. Back to running, I get to the top and take that right onto Torrey Pines Road where the climb continues for another 0.5 – 0.75mi but at an easier, yet longer ascent. “Enough! We don’t stop until we reach the finish line!” I do my best to hammer upward, ignoring the pain, trying to manage my breaths. I might have passed a person or two, it’s a blur. I give one final push as I see that final turn where the hill stops from going up and goes back to going down. I do my best to transition from the extremes and let the legs recover a bit before the downhill gets super aggressive one last time as you head into La Jolla Cove. Just like earlier, it’s one of those take-the-brakes-off-but-don’t-fall type of hills, but only shorter. I bomb down that and do my best to use the momentum that last 0.1 miles. I’m trying to hit that extra gear and push harder, but I’m tanked and my body is giving me a hard no. I wince in pain past wifey and woofy as they cheer me on. I hit the finish line chute and hear my race announcer buddy call my name as I step on the timing mat at the finish. I am done, son!!!

That face sums up about how I felt on the boardwalk

I am exhausted and am doing my best to not have a coughing fit. Lungs feel asthmatic. Legs are logs. I would argue, it’s the hardest half I’ve ever worked for. Even more than PR efforts. Though, I’m not satisfied with my time, I earned every bit of it. I’m sick and it definitely showed today! I mentioned earlier that the goal was hopefully 1:35. Happy to announce that I did NOT reach that target. Those multiple walk breaks threw that goal out the window. I definitely didn’t intend to walk, but the body mandated that we did if we were going to finish this one. So walked I did. Lessoned learned is that mind over matter only works so much. If you’re not 100% on race day, the expectations must change and you have to accept that make peace with it and move on. I still have two more races to go before spring season is over. Time to get back to training and put this behind me. Let’s go!

Finish time 1:37:30

A hard day at the office

Post-race pic with one of my athletes, Z.

Puppy makes all the pain go away.

All better now!