Double Dipsea Race Report

I should have known I was in a bad day after waking up from a sleepless night (it has been over 90 for five consecutive days, and our house gets very hot at night. Note houses in NorCal do not have air conditioning) with an upset stomach.

I ate, got dressed, went outside to discover than a. it was already 75 degrees at 6:30 in the morning and b. my trail running shoes somehow managed to get caught in the sprinkler and were soaking wet. Had to change to plan B.

And so with that as a backdrop, dear readers, I am happy to say that my day went from bad to worse.

In my life, I have never run a course harder than this one. For a measure of perspective, it was only 14 miles, but took my nearly as long as my fastest marathon (we are talking three + hours). There were three elements at play that combined, caused me much misery:

-- I simply had dead legs and even under optimal conditions I would have had a difficult time with the climbs
-- As a corollary to the above, the course had about 5,000 feet of climbing (I stated 8,000 on Facebook but think I was wrong. Fr all of you counting at home, 5,000 feet over 14 miles is monstrous)
-- It heated up to almost 98 degrees. I (and about one thousand other runners) wasn't just hot, I was ROASTING. It was one of those days where neighbors come out f their homes en masse with water hoses.

I knew I was in for a long day literally during the first mile, which was straight uphill. Already I had to slow it down and walk; my heart rate was just out of control. And so, I decided early in the day that this "race" (I use the word loosely) was simply going to be about finishing, regardless of the time. The Wife and Kids met me at the half way mark, which was located in a downtown park and I have never in my life been so tempted to call it a day. If I had ever before quit a race, I would have dropped but I wanted to keep my streak intact.

So, I turned around, climbed the 691 Dipsea steps (that's right -- three flights of 691 steps) and ran/walked my way back to Stinson Beach.

My legs were generally ok and I was able to run the flats and downhills without much problem (until the sun really came out towards the end) but, as stated, I just could not climb.

There were a lot of other people in the same situation as me and we banded together like survivors in the Death March of Bataan and brought it home together.

I generally don't find myself at the back of the pack of most races and when I do I am usually pretty miserable, but in retrospect, it definitely makes for a more unique experience. There's something to be said about bonding with strangers; a sense that you are in it together -- and almost looking out for one another -- that makes the race memorable (once the pain has receded of course).

And speaking of pain, I can barely walk today. My legs are shelled, similiar to how they feel after a hard marathon. I am a wreck.

I was in such a bad way, that when I got home I had to lie in front of a fan for about 1/2 hour, in my dirty, disgusting clothes. I must have been pretty badly dehydrated too, but I will save that part of the story for another day (no IV's necessary though and no blood, so I have that going for me).

So, I am going to write that off as simply a worst case scenario/bad day and conclude by saying this: the Double Dispea completely and totally kicked my ass.

So badly did it beat me down, in fact, that I might need to seek revenge next year.