Kyrah Ayers's Staging Area

Like most things that are worth it in life, the journey started way before race day. I chickened out of my first marathon attempt in July 2017 and almost immediately jumped back on the horse training for another one. The race of choice was the 35th Annual California International Marathon. My training leading up to the race was moving along well at first, but it wasn’t long until similar patterns of missed weeks began to surface. I clawed myself back into shape repeatedly only to have it stripped from me time and time again. Dropping out of the race, although this race does offer deferrals for the next year, wasn’t an option for me. I missed my opportunity in San Francisco and watched thousands of runners pass by; I couldn’t bare to watch another chance do the same. I decided to line up and take the grade that I earned.

Leading Up to the Race

Long before race day I had accepted that this wouldn’t be my long sought after Boston Qualifying race. With helpful advice from several experienced marathoners, I was able to put together a plan and set goals. For those who have never run a marathon, I can now tell you from experience that there is nothing or no one that can prepare you for what you go through in a marathon. I don’t say these words to discourage, but instead to prepare you. Common advice that I received in the months leading up to the race would include:

•”respect the distance”
•”your mind will be tested”
•”it’s going to hurt”

After hearing such advice repeatedly I began to think that marathoners are pessimistic people who don’t want new people joining their exclusive club. I nodded, smiled and usually left these conversations unscathed by their hurtful words.

In hindsight, I now see that these words weren’t hurtful or malicious. They were intended to prepare me for the reality that I was going to face. As my wife and I sat in the hotel room on the night before the race she voiced an analogy that continues to resonate with me and my first marathon attempt. She said that she was nervous for me, and that it reminded her of how I probably felt while she was in labor with our son. She was right in more ways than one.

Race Day Morning

At about 4:30 am, I woke up, showered and began to put on the clothes that I had carefully laid out the night before. Unlike most races, CIM does not recommend drop offs at the starting line nor do they encourage spectators to watch the start of the race. Instead they provide shuttle buses that take you to the starting line. Our hotel of choice was at the halfway point between the starting line in Folsom, CA and the finish line in Sacramento. It had rained the night before. The air was cool, but the wind was still. As we pulled up to one of many bus pick up locations I was shocked to see the parade of school buses that circled the entire Whole Foods parking lot efficiently loading thousands of runners in a manner of minutes. The line was extremely long, but in no time I was seated on a bus that obviously wasn’t intended for anyone over the height of 5’1.

Some runners slept while others talked to old or new friends. I was seated next to an older gentleman from the Folsom area. He too would be running his first marathon today. We talked the whole way about our journeys that led us to this day. I was candid in admitting that I hadn’t trained like I wanted to and about my aspirations for Boston. We laughed and joked for most of the trip which helped ease some of the nerves I was wrestling with. The bus parked amongst hundreds of its identical twins,each carrying 40 plus people all hoping to complete a marathon today. CIM allows you to stay on the bus to stay warm for as long as you’d like. A convenient offer being that the outside temperature was approximately 43 degrees and the sun was yet to show its face. While some got off immediately, I sat and enjoyed this luxury for about 20 minutes while enjoying a light breakfast that I had prepared the night before. Once done, I decided to venture out to see what all the fuss was about.

The streets were packed with runners. It was now one hour before the race was scheduled to begin; too early to warm up so I figured I could go for some coffee. Near the starting line was a gas station. The place was bursting with runners all trying to stay warm, grab a bite to eat or to use the facilities. After paying for my coffee, I made my way back outside to meet up with my friend and running mentor, Onyanga. After several text messages and roaming around in circles we were able to find each other. It was now thirty minutes before the race. We shared our morning stories and plans of action over a brief warm-up jog. Following the warm-up, I went to bag check, made a brief stop by the porta-potty and lined up with the thousands of other runners. It’s game time!

The Early Miles

My plan of attack was pretty simple. I’d line up with the 3hr 30min pace group and run with them for the first half of the race. At this point I could assess how I felt and determine whether to push the pace or not. As the horn sounded I started my watch and began the longest race that I had ever attempted. I was warned by many that the first mile of the race is downhill and that it’s important not to get ahead of your pace goals. I listened. I monitored my watch closely for the first mile hoping to preserve all the energy I could for the many miles ahead. Mile 2 began with a slight incline which was helpful in maintaining a conservative pace. The consensus that I heard about this course was that the first half of the race is riddled with “rolling hills”. If you live in an area that has hills, you probably won’t even notice them. If anything, they were helpful in varying up the muscle groups used to conquer the distance.

I grabbed a cup of water and a cup of nuun at every aid station I passed in hopes to stay hydrated. My focus was mostly on keeping my pace conservative and fueling. By the time I looked up, I was 10 miles into the race and feeling great! The crowd support was phenomenal. When I first looked at the logistics of the race it appeared as if we’d be running through some pretty peaceful and serene wooded areas, but I was gladly mistaken. This was CIM’s 35th anniversary and the people in the area showed up to celebrate. Every intersection was packed with faces and cheers. Almost every house we passed had residents out front watching, cheering and spurring us on. My favorite sign that I saw made me laugh as I passed it. I wish I had a picture, but it read something like: “Don’t poop on anything but the miles behind you”. Well said.

The Middle Miles

As a first time marathoner, my longest race leading up to this point was 13.1 miles. As I approached the halfway point of this race I began to feel some anxiety towards the unknown. My mile times remained consistent and I was smack dab in-between the 3:27 and the 3:30 pace groups. Everything was going as planned (surprisingly).

By mile 14 I decided to push the pace a little. By mile 15, I had changed my mind. This back and forth went on through mile 19 where I took my first walking break as I went through a water station. I wanted to ensure that I was fueled up enough to make it through “The (infamous) Wall” that every marathon runner dreads. This race took it literally and physically built a wall that the runners actually go through at about mile 20.

I had some aches and pains at this point in the race, but I had been running now for over two and a half hours. Of course my body hurts! I crossed the H St. bridge that many had warned me about at mile 22 still feeling nostalgic. The woman on the bullhorn said that this was the last “hill” of the race and the countdown begins now!!!!

The Countdown aka The Meltdown

A running friend of mine, Ron, who has run CIM several times told me that not long after the bridge you’ll begin to see that the streets are numbered. The counting starts on 57th and the race ends on 8th. When he told me this, I felt that this would be helpful. I could mentally count down the numbers and initiate my final kick home!!! The reality was on the contrary. It made me completely underestimate how tired I actually was after 3 plus hours of running. 57th St. starts in the middle of mile 23. Mile 24 begins at 49th. “WE’RE NOT GOING TO MAKE IT!”, my legs screamed.

By mile 25 (35th St.) my calf muscles had begun to lock up and I was forced to take my first unscheduled walking break. My pace had slowed significantly turning my sub 8min/mi pace to barely under 9min/mi. The shuffle had begun. I clung to the shoulder of the road to stay out of the way of faster runners. A gentleman who I had been trading the lead with for miles ran past me as I walked/hobbled past 26th St. He tapped me on the back and encouraged me to keep going. It truly helped and I appreciate him for it.

I mustered up enough energy to move in a way that somewhat resembled running. I couldn’t bring myself to look up at the street signs anymore at this point. “Just watch your feet and make sure they’re still moving!”, I told myself.

The crowd size began to swell. I could hear the announcer, the music! Bands lined the intersections playing emphatically marching us towards our goal. As I turned onto 8th St. I saw my family cheering. It gave me strength. I gave everything I had to those last 15 steps and crossed the finish line of my first marathon in 3:28:13.

The Aftermath
After I crossed the finish line I felt like I was on the top of the world. I had completed my first marathon! I could now run for president of the United States, cure world hunger and with the grace of God, make it to the car. The moment of euphoria was swiftly washed away by all of the pain I had been running from for the past hours. My knees could no longer hold the weight of the accomplishment or my body. My wife lovingly helped me to and into the car after a brief photo shoot (shown below). Forming coherent sentences was like putting together a 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzle. Needless to say, I was tired.
After a couple days of walking around like a penguin, I think I’m ready to get back to business. While I’m ecstatic that I was able to complete my first marathon, I’ve realized that I have a lot of work to do in order to earn the opportunity to ring the Boston Qualifier bell, but that’s a whole ‘nother blog post.

On Sunday April 2, 2017 I ran the half marathon in The Oakland Running Festival. What an amazing experience. This was my second year participating in this event and hands down, I have to say that it’s one of the best organized events I’ve been a part of. This year I had the honor of being a volunteer mentor for Running for a Better Oakland (RBO). RBO is a non-profit organization that teaches youth to run long distances. Their training was tested on Sunday as they ran in the 5k and half marathon races of The Oakland Running Festival. I ran with a great group of young half marathon runners who swept the podium for their age group by securing the 1st, 2nd and 3rd place spots. In the early part of the race, we ran as a group trying to keep the kids from burning off too much energy too early and trying to keep them hydrated on a sunny race morning. We told jokes, we laughed and we discussed their race goals. One of the kids was a first time half marathoner. He was reluctant to stop at water stations fearing it would affect his race time. He slowly came around as the temperature escalated and the miles added up. Another talented young man who had run this race before developed some side stitches when the double digit miles began, but after we slowed the pace down by about 15 seconds/mi he was able to finish strong and establish a new PR of 1:35:52 at 13 years old!!! Needless to say, it was an amazing experience and I feel extremely blessed to have been a part of it. My two sons also participated in the RBO program. They each ran in the 5k race and both surprised themselves at what they were capable of accomplishing. They woke up extremely early with me and arrived in Oakland by 6am. One was able to run without walking for entire 5k for the first time. The other ran one of his fastest times. Both sprinted across the finish line in a victorious fashion. As usual, my loving and supportive wife came out to watch all the madness take place. She said our 2 year old son almost jumped out the stroller when the Kids Fun Run began. We’ll have to make sure that he’s participating as well next year.

In August 2014 I ran my first ever road race and fell in love. The race was an inaugural half marathon race in Oakland, CA called The Town’s Half Marathon (RunOAK). I enjoyed it so much that in 2015 I signed up for the entire three race series adding The Livermore Half Marathon and The Golden Gate Half Marathon to my race calendar. In 2016 I returned to Oakland as a seasoned vet. I even decided to apply to be a race ambassador. As captain of the Bay Area Black Men Run chapter, I encouraged them all to join me. We even went on training runs touring the course in the weeks leading up to race day (08/13/2016).

Nothing about training happens in a bubble. Your outside life and circumstances weigh heavily on your time, psyche and physical performance. The last few months have been rough for me. A series of family emergencies reduced the amount of time I was able to spend on the road. I pushed through the best I could, and managed to run my third fastest half marathon ever at 1:32:17.

While of course I would have rather PR’d, this race taught me a lot about myself, and made me excited about future races. With minimal training I was able to cross the finish line strong in the top 50 out of over 1,700 runners. In addition, I didn’t cramp up at the end; I had enough fuel to pick up the pace for the last mile and I’m becoming more comfortable racing strategically, but I’ll talk more about that in the recap below.

RECAP
The race started off on 14th St in downtown Oakland right next to City Hall. In prior years they started in the Frank Ogawa breezeway a block over, but this worked as well. I started in the middle of the pack. In almost all of my prior races I started in the back and spent the first few miles weaving through the crowds. After some sound advice from my BMR Brother Onyanga, I decided to try something different. As the race began, I felt comfortable. I talked to other runners, looked around at the sights and sang along with the music in my headphones. The course had several early turns (some newly added this year) which made it a bit crowded but by about 2.5 miles into the race the herd began to thin. While heading North on Broadway I was presented with the option to bail out and take the turn with the 5k runners or to continue on. I joked with the runners near me at the time about this possibility but we all were in it for the long haul by this point.

Having experience running the course, I knew the terrain. For miles 3-5 it was crucial to find your rhythm before the hills robbed you of all momentum. I passed a few runners here and there, but most runners were settled in working towards the same goal. Around mile 5 while trying to pass a small group of young gentlemen one decided to make chase. He broke away from the pack and pulled up along side me. This early in the race I normally wouldn’t entertain such a challenge, but my legs felt fresh and my pace needed a bit of a boost. We conservatively tested each other for a couple miles, but when the hills started rolling his fatigue set in and he decided to let off the gas and concede. I thanked him for the challenge and began seeking my next target.

As the hills became steeper around mile 7, more and more people began to fall victim to fatigue. We were now more than half way done with the race but past experience had shown me that once you get over these hills, it’s all downhill from there. I ran relaxed with arms pumping up the final hill. At the top I saw a young boy, maybe 13 years old, that was showing signs of struggle. I gave him a few encouraging words as we both began our decent victoriously.

The police, neighbors and volunteers were out cheering as we came down Grand Ave. I did my best to maintain my downhill cadence as the road flattened out. My hips began to feel the repercussions of the early turns and rolling hills at this point. We were approximately 9 miles into the race and we had been on our feet for about an hour. My calculations told me that I should be sipping a beer in half an hour.

The turn onto the Lake Merritt jogging path was brutal with the hip pain, but I managed to make it without falling into the water. I passed on the water station right before the entrance and spent half the time around the lake wondering if that was the right move. At mile 10 I was challenged yet again by a runner, but this time he was not wearing a race bib. We traded leading spots back and forth for almost a mile before he apparently reached his car and drove off. I looked on enviously.

Once we exited the Lake Merritt jogging path we were placed back onto 14th St. I began to hone in on the music I was listening to, a Spotify playlist geared to inspire killer workouts. Eminem shouting the lyrics to ‘Till I Collapse in my ear helped me shift gears, to forget about all pain and pass a few more people before the tape. While I did stop short of actually collapsing, I definitely gave a solid effort.

While I am still relatively new to road racing, I was thoroughly impressed with the production, scenery, organization and commitment to excellence that this race offered. For those who don’t know, this was the first ever half marathon race with qualifying times. While the times were (to some) lax, they were benchmarks that inspired people to step out of their comfortable relaxed pace and push for better.

While I ran my fastest ever half marathon, my overall finishing placement was my worst thus far. This alone told me that the competition was stiffer than any race that I’ve ever entered. It was an honor to run with such talented runners. The city of San Diego itself is amazing. I brought my entire family and we stayed a few days before and after the race just to enjoy the sites.

From the expo to the awards ceremony, this race was Class – A (or classy…however you spell it – lol). Hopefully I’ll be able to come back and participate in this event again next year.

A couple things that I think could really increase the draw to the race are listed below. I mention them simply because a 5,000 entry race that had less than 50% of the people show up to compete might want to know: “what could we have done better”.

– Social Media: while early on the social media presence for this race was strong, it died out over the months. Twitter in particular went completely dry in 05/2015.

– All articles and interviews regarding the race that I found were bunched up in April/May of 2015. If you hadn’t heard about the race by June, you were basically dependent on word of mouth.

– While I have heard some griping about how the lax time restrictions were a reason why people didn’t enter, it was their loss. It was the fastest competition I’ve seen and who cares how fast the guy behind you is running….moving on.

– Who knew Meb was coming? I sure didn’t! Things like this are selling features and if mentioned in the coming weeks via Social Media (I harp again) this could have increased participation by 20% alone. (just a thought)

Don’t get me wrong, I had a GREAT time and I’m confident that if this race keeps doing exactly what it’s doing it has the potential to hold some of the most sought after spots in the sport.

Definitely one of my favorite places to race thus far. This is my second appearance at RunOAK. Last year was my first road race ever. This year my wife and kids did the 5k (great addition) while I ran the 1/2 marathon. This race is worth signing up for. It’s 1/3 part of the Golden State Half Series which feature races in San Francisco and Livermore as well. Like I said, one of my favorite places to run and I’ll definitely be back next year.

FYI: swag points went down because they charged for the event photos. Please bring back free race photos!!!!

At this Inaugural Event, I made my first ever appearance as a road race runner. A great choice to say the least. The other runners were friendly and welcoming. The event staff was helpful and cheerful (first thing in the morning). The volunteers and police officers cheered us on as if they put money on us to win. I enjoyed touring the city on foot and receiving my first ever medal (that spins like Sprewell rims – the definition of “swag”).

Great race. Good times. I highly recommend it.