"Summer" Golden Gate trail race - where's the heat?

As I get older, I am becoming more reluctant to get up early to drive to races with early start times.

There are MANY races in the Marin Headlands, and it's not hard to understand why - there are several natural staging areas with parking and many fantastic trails. Trails that are also popular with locals and tourists that are more interested in the views and a peaceful outing than whether they can get a PR on a treacherous downhill bombing run. This can lead to conflicts, although most often everyone seems to coexist fairly well.

The park services though (this area is run by several different ones), have decided that starting the races earlier will get the runners off the trails earlier (that checks out) and make the trails a bit more welcoming to others later in the day.

When I saw that Coastal's Golden Gate race started at 7 AM, I decided I wasn't interested. It's a one hour drive to get there, which meant waking around 5 AM, which is a time my old, reluctant self is not interested in seeing.

But then Not A Canadian started talking to Mrs Notthat, convincing her that getting up at 5 AM can be fun. She even offered to drive. So I was dragged into the race, maybe not kicking and screaming, but at least frowning and sighing heavily.

NAC and I decided to run the Half Marathon while Mrs Notthat ran the 5M loop.

Modified course due to PG&E work.

PG&E (motto: "Ticking People Off Since 1852") has been doing something (NOT installing escalators) on some of the key trails used by many trail races in this area, so the course had to be modified a bit. Well, a lot. The overall affect on distance and the amount of climbing you had to do for the main loop was minimal, but it added some challenging course marking/monitoring to make sure runners stayed on course.

Those smaller climbs near the end felt a LOT taller than that.

I've run the standard course a couple of times, so I was actually a bit excited to get to be on a few trails I've not been on before. I also tend to like out-and-back bits since they allow me to see runners ahead of and behind me. And I can always use a nice rubber band.

One thing we didn't have was sunshine. The start/finish was at Rodeo Beach (motto: "No Bull Riding, but Wow Do We Have Clowns"), and was just a bit under the thick marine layer covering the area. It was cool, but not really cold. That was saved for once you climbed up into the marine layer.

The first climb starts almost immediately.

NAC and I started together, but I was shocked to find that we were much closer to the front of the corral than I'm used to. (But what NAC is totally used to.) Shortly after we headed out, with me running faster than I should have been, I was able to pull over and let the majority of the runners go by while I took my proper place at the back of the pack.

The gun barrel points the way.

We didn't climb much before we were in the marine layer, where it was much cooler and very moist. The good part was that the coolness really didn't feel bad since the climb had warmed us up a lot.

Those stairs are not OSHA compliant!

A good thing (maybe?) about the marine layer was that you really couldn't see how much climbing you had left - the trail disappeared into the mists and you were allowed to imagine it started downhill at that point. (It didn't. Ever.)

The sun struggling to burn off the marine layer. The sun losing. The climb never ending, no matter what it looks like.

All distances start with the same climb. At this point, the 5M runners are done climbing and can head back to the finish on a glorious downhill. All other runners turn left do a bit more climbing, then head down to the first aid station. Also glorious downhill, but we all have a second big climb in our near future.

"Which way do I NOT go?"

Just before starting the long downhill to the aid station, there was an intersection that normally is not a big deal for the runners, but due to the course change, it could be a bit confusing, and was worthy of a volunteer to make sure we all headed the right way. (We would essentially make a loop and end up back here, on a different trail. It would be sad to mistakenly make a wrong turn and do that loop again.)

The Tennessee Valley aid station, view from the glorious toilets.

Getting to the first aid station at about mile four was awesome for the normal reasons (food! hydration! encouragement!), but also for a bonus reason - this one had a couple of toilets, and I really needed one. I lost some time in one of those toilets, but my comfort afterwards made it well worth it.

Back up into the marine layer.

When you left that aid station, you immediately started up the second big climb - the infamous Marincello trail. It's a long, consistent, fairly mild uphill. Real runners can run up it (and many of those real runners, running one of the longer distances which included a bonus loop,  passed me as I slogged up it). I dream of one day being able to run up this thing, but at this point, a power hike is what I had to settle for.

Wait - is that real sunshine?

About halfway up that climb, the sun made a brief appearance, finally justifying the sunglasses many runners had been carrying all morning.

It didn't last.

Back to the marine layer. (And nearly done with the second climb! Maybe!)

"Which way do I go?"

I finally made it back to the course monitor and now had a nice, long downhill stretch of trail.

Eventually I made it back down near sea level and out of the marine layer. We were on the 5M course, but this is where we turned off of it and started the bonus out-and-back bit.

"Hi there Saile, not your real name!" He was a bit over a mile ahead of me, heading back with his coveted rubber band.

Pick a color - any color. Maybe.

An amusing thing (to me) was that this guy asked if he had to grab a specific color of rubber band - I said it just had to match his shirt color, which caused a brief bit of consternation before he realized I was not someone to be trusted. How he avoided taking a swing at me, or at least making a rude gesture, I will never understand. (For the record, I picked one that matched my shirt nicely.)

"Hi there Htebazile, not your real name!" She was running the 30K, and while she was almost a mile behind me, she had also run about five more miles than I had. Would she catch me? (Duh.)

The second (and third, kind of) aid station and Bermuda Triangle Quadrangle, about mile 10 and 11.

The second aid station was a bit confusing, with runners coming in from two different directions and heading out in two other different directions. The first time you hit it, you were to make a left and do a one mile loop. The second time, you also made a left, but this left pointed you to the finish.

Of course the little loop had a hill.

"Hi there again Htebazile, still not your real name!"

As expected, it didn't take long for Htebazile to catch up to me. (Note: She had ended up second overall in the previous weekend's Brazen Dirty Dozen, with well over 60 miles in 12 ours. That she was even standing up, let alone running a 30K was astonishing. Passing me was not astonishing at all, other than the trick of me getting ahead of her in the first place.)

Ah! Rodeo Beach ahead!

The race finishes with a fairly flat sprint (ha ha ha) along the road.

NAC and Mrs Notthat encouraging me to go faster.

Mrs Notthat had finished her 5M races hours ago, and since I didn't see NAC on the out-and-back, I knew she was WAY ahead of me and also finished long ago. They were huddled in the car for warmth as I trundled by. "Hurry up geezer!" It was nice to get some final encouragement.

At least I got this nice picture of me for all my grief.

Picture by NAC. Weird grimace/grin by me.

The finish! Finally!

I wasn't sure what to expect as a finish time since it had been a long time since I'd run a hilly Half. I figured anything less than four hours would be OK, but I really wanted to be under 3:30. Maybe 3:15?

Ha! Not today. I ended up with just under 3:34 - honestly not bad, but a bit disappointing. The toilet break didn't help, but it also didn't set me back enough to cause me to miss that 3:30 goal. On the positive side, my body was fine (if a bit soaked - I sweat a lot anyway, and spending so much time in the clouds just makes me even wetter). It was fun to push myself a bit.

The medal and bib.

In the end, it was worth the early wake up to run this race. Mrs Notthat did awesome (as always) in her 5M race, but just missed out on an age group award (she missed third by 66 seconds and second by 70 seconds!).

It was fun running on new (to me) trails. I missed the amazing views you are normally rewarded with at the top of the climbs, as well as the great view of the Golden Gate Bridge you get with the normal course, but it was nice to do something a bit different.

A huge thanks to Coastal Trail Runs and all the volunteers that helped make this a great event!

That's it - move along…