touring san francisco
when i was a teenager i promised myself i would run a marathon "some day." three decades later i did it. yesterday, at the age of 49, i toured san francisco on foot, completing the "chronicle marathon" in 4:25. today i feel great.
this was my first marathon. the weather was beautiful. i started at the back of the race. at the six mile mark the towers of the golden gate bridge were obscured in fog drifting past fort point. the winds were light until the great highway, where the race ran against a stiff headwind for two miles. i passed the half-marathon at 1:53, and still felt strong while deep in the back half of the many runners and walkers on the streets of san francisco. running uphill into golden gate park the sun came out. it was perfect running weather.
passing the 30k mark in 2:53 i dropped down to a ginger slow motion pace, being kind to my aching joints. my goal was to finish in under 5 hours without injuring my body, and with my great time through 30k i could walk the rest of the way and still beat 5 hours! i was elated and exhausted. hundreds of runners passed me as i shuffled along. i stopped at every aid station and walked while drinking a cup of water or sports drink, or both. the down hills were a form of physical misery. near the misson going downhill on 16th a middle aged man next to me wished aloud for a skateboard. i replied, "i wish this were a hill of cool grass so i could roll down." there were fresh oranges near the 22 mile mark. leaving the orange aid station i matched the pace of a woman walking 20 yards ahead of me. i kept pace with her for two miles, never falling more than 50 yards behind as she alternated between running and walking.
crossing the parking lots below pacbell park, i slowed to walk. i ran past pacbell park as fans arrived for the dodger game. i walked more at pier 40. rounding the bend under the bay bridge i saw the tower atop the ferry building, where the race would end, and i started to cry. i gulped deep breaths of air and broke into a run towards the finish. twenty yards before the finish the 4:30 pace group leader floated past me. the chute workers called out, "perfect job, 4:30!" my friends keith and lisa yelled encouragement at me as i went into the chute. i was in a thick mental fog. for a moment i felt like i would vomit. i chewed on some oranges, rudely spitting the pulp on the ground. i drank fluids and wandered around attempting coherent conversation. thousands of runners were milling around. lisa, keith and i ate lunch a sidewalk cafe in the embarcadero. it was a beautiful day on the streets of san francisco.
8:09:33 AM 
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