The Glide Floss Bridge to Bridge 7K

7K / 12K / 8:20 AM Start

San Francisco, CA (From Ferry Bldg through Fisherman’s Wharf to Presidio)

Time: 40:08 / Pace: 9:14

My first pit crew. Lori and Camille were getting up at 6:15 AM to join Erin, Jack and I at the race. It meant that we would have a ride to the starting area near the Embarcadero Center in downtown San Francisco and a ride home from the finish and the surrounding festival in the Presidio. It made the whole morning seem easier. And it meant that we could all go out to breakfast after the race and gorge ourselves. One of the traditions we most enjoy!

There was a bittersweet edge to the morning and to this particular race. Originally Dick, my older brother who lives in Vancouver, WA, was registered for this race and he was looking forward to coming down to run and visit. The Bridge to Bridge was one of his first road races last year and it was to be an anniversary of sorts. He had even come to a couple of my races (one in Washington, one in California) but he had not felt ready to enter himself. Last year he finally made the leap and decided he could do 5Ks and the Bridge to Bridge 7K. Last year we had a great time at this race although, as everyone knows by now, he is so much faster than me that I can’t keep up with him during an actual race. But a few weeks ago his cancer returned for the sixth time and he could not come down for that visit and the race. That damn lymphoma was pissing me off. We want Dick to be an integral and close member of our family for a long time. So I had made a vow to run the race with a prayer on my lips for Dick and for his bout with the recurring war of the cells. His treatment consists of four “infusions” of Rituxen (the cancer fighting drug), scheduled for once a week (Mondays) for a month. His first had been the Monday before the race and his second was the Monday after the race. He told me that he can’t really tell after the first infusion if it is working. But he said he can usually tell after the second and third infusions whether the tumors are decreasing in size. The good news is that after his second infusion the treatment did seem to be working again. We will pray that continues.

Lori and Camille joined us at the staging area where we picked up our timing chips and made the usual last minute bathroom stops. Then Lori and Camille headed off to the Presidio so they could see us come across the finish line. Jack was running the 12K so he had an 8 AM start. He was in no hurry this morning and after the start gun went off he actually waited until the whole 12K crowd moved across the timing pads. Later he said that it helped to do that because then the runners had already spread out and it was easier to do the normal dodge and scoot to move ahead of slower runners. Usually we both try to start at the front so we don’t have to dodge around other runners but his waiting strategy seemed to work well that morning.

Erin and I had an 8:20 AM start for the 7K distance and we did move closer to the front just because it was easy to do and the crowd was smaller than usual. Erin thought it was because there were big major events going on in the city that day and I thought it was because the start time was an hour early and many runners probably just bagged it or were late. But the crowds for both distances were definitely smaller.

When the gun went off (loudly) we flinched and then proceeded under the large red U shaped balloon which marked the starting line. It was too crowded to just sprint out of the starting gate. But Erin didn’t waste any time getting up to speed. Within a short distance we were hitting a 9 min pace and she seemed to be running strong. I stayed with her although I might have started a bit more slowly. Very quickly I did notice two things that were very different from previous years. One, there were very few people on the sidewalks cheering us on, as the streets were deserted at this hour. Even one hour later seems to make a huge difference in who is out and about. And second, it was unearthly quiet. I don’t know why. Usually this is a voluble field of runners but not this morning. Every few minutes Erin and I would chat about something and I could feel myself talking quietly because no one else was talking. It was odd enough that when you did hear someone talking it seemed to break the mood.

For the first mile we did have the irritating experience of having to dodge walkers who were not keeping to the sides which is normal race etiquette. It is even a bit dangerous to insist on walking right in front of runners who are barreling along. I bit my tongue but I was just nanoseconds away from cursing a few of them. After the first mile the problem didn’t arise again until we hit the steep hill right after the Fisherman’s Wharf area.

As we wound our way through the Fisherman’s Wharf area Erin did slightly decrease her pace as her asthma required her to calm herself down. She motioned me to keep going and not to slow down so I finally increased my pace just a bit and headed toward the hill. This hill is actually steep enough that I don’t even try to run up it. I always walk, quickly but still I walk. I also do that because I seem to be able to run down hills hard and fast without banging my knees and hips so I know I am going to make up some of the time I have lost. Today was no exception. I strided quickly up the hill and began my somewhat wild descent, scooting in and around much slower runners and walkers. At one point I had to move a runner out of the way although I did it gently and excused myself. Well, I tried to do that gently but I was coming down the hill rapidly. She didn’t seem to mind and as soon as she figured out what was going on she slipped to the side.

At the bottom of the hill you have to make a ninety degree turn onto Bay Street right near a very busy Safeway, the Fort Mason area, and the Marina Green. One side of this busy street is “coned” off for the runners but the other side is handling traffic. It is a rather disorienting transition because up until now it has been very quiet, no cars, no traffic, we ruled the whole street. But not now, suddenly we were in the mix of the city. And now people were talking again. It was as if the other noise gave permission for the runners to make more noise. I thought about why some runners like trails instead of running on the streets and now it made sense even if I would never do it. Running trails is asking for an injury and I need to run every day so I am not going to chance it. But I loved the quiet and I think I need the quiet. In the quiet it felt as if the whole race was praying for Dick and I loved that illusion. I rode the wave of it and alternatively cursed the cancer and asked for healing.

As usual in these more crowded races I wasn’t paying attention to fellow runners. Slowly their presence began to make itself known. I noticed one woman right in front of me who was running my exact pace. I had no idea how long she had been doing that. But she was tall and was running strong and I could see that she was getting ready to push the pace for the finish. I didn’t care. I knew what was coming and could see it ahead; the left turn off Bay Street that began the dreaded half mile uphill finish. Oh, I loathed this finish, passionately. As much as I loved this event and the joy of running through the city I hated this stupid ill conceived finish. I wanted to shout and scream at somebody in authority about how much I hated this uphill struggle to the finish line in the Presidio.

Then it was upon me and I made the turn. I couldn’t believe my eyes or my ears. Right there beside me was a runner pushing a stroller with a baby screaming his head off. The mother was trying to soothe “Joshua” but he would accept no soothing. And she was not about to stop at this junction in the course to pick him up and minister to his needs. The hill slowed me down and I was strangled with desperation. I couldn’t bear to listen to this for an entire half mile. I had to make a decision to slow down or speed up. All of my understanding of the physics of sound vanished from my brain. Would the sound diminish more quickly if I was ahead or behind? I had no idea. So I gambled and crankily forced myself to speed up. Now this was not fair. I had already decided I was not going to sprint at the end, almost as a defiant act against the powers that be. But now I had to get away from this great cyclone of sound that was ruining the whole race for me. Okay, I am very auditory and this kind of thing almost hurts me but I make no apologies.

This last stretch wound up, turned right, then turned left and then seemed to stretch into infinity. I thought of Dick, I thought of Jack’s silly bromide that you must “flatten the hills in your mind”; I then remembered that Lori and Camille might be waiting for me at the end. What if they were? My goodness, then I would have to sprint just to give them a good show and make it worth their gracious act of getting up in the early morning to join us for this venture. Okay, maybe this was okay; their presence would help me overcome my hatred of this hill and this finish. Then I saw them and heard them and realized that I had to go for it. If not for myself, at least for them. So like a madman I sprinted. It wasn’t very far but it was enough to get my blood racing and to put a stop to the yammering inner voice about not being to run up a damn hill. I had no recollection of who I passed although I think I did pass a few in those last fifty yards. But that didn’t matter either.

I was through the chute and handed a bottle of water. It was over; my time was slower than last year but only by twenty four seconds. I could live with that since I was still making my comeback after my pneumonia.

Erin came in just a few seconds behind me so she really kept up her pace. And Jack did well also. We all enjoyed the festival and had a scrumptious lunch at Crepevine in the Fillmore to make sure we honored our Bridge to Bridge tradition.

I must say that I loved having a pit crew and was glad that their presence made me sprint. You can get by with a little help from your friends (and family). And I did dedicate the race to Dick and his journey of healing once again.