The week leading up to the Napa Valley Marathon was unlike any other. Instead of checking the weather every 10 minutes as I’ve done with other races, I was instead worried about the Corona virus and whether or not we should actually be traveling. I’d ask Dan multiple times a day what he thought we should do. I was fully prepared to cancel our trip and not run the marathon. I would have been upset to be sure, but health and peace of mind were far more important. As silly and inconsequential as it sounds now, I was prepared to sacrifice my run. Dan never seemed to waiver; we’d be extra careful but we were going on our trip.
And so we departed Minneapolis on Friday, February 28th. The airport was bustling with others who had clearly made the same decision as us. Our flight was full, and save for a few people I noticed wearing masks or wiping down their seat tray, everything seemed fairly normal. Off we went, California bound. Non-Corona virus issues complicated our trip once we landed in San Francisco. The person who had rented us his Tesla canceled while we were in flight. We ended up renting from Hertz, a Ford Mustang. A logical, comparable choice (ha ha). The 60 mile trip from San Francisco to Napa Valley took 3 hours due to insane traffic. We arrived in Napa Valley after traveling for over 10 hours. When they gave us a complimentary glass of wine upon check in at our hotel, I greedily snatched it up. It didn’t matter that my hands were full of bags and luggage, I was going to enjoy that wine. I would have abandoned my items in the lobby had the nice guy at the desk not offered to bring them upstairs for us.
From there, things started to improve and I was feeling somewhat more relaxed. We had dinner at a cute and cozy restaurant (this was before social distancing was a thing) on the patio at our hotel. We stopped next door at a tasting room, and then crashed into bed that evening exhausted yet excited.
After a 2 mile shakeout run on Saturday morning, Dan and I lunched at Melted, a sandwich shop that uses waffles in lieu of bread. They were so delicious and seemingly not as unhealthy as you might think. We then headed to the expo to get my packet and bib number. The Napa Valley Marathon is a rather small event. From what I could tell by looking at previous years’ results, they had between 1200 and 1800 marathon participants. This year, because of all the other events that were canceled, the race sold out. Still, 2258 marathoners is much different than the 30-40,000 in big races like Boston and Chicago. And that’s precisely why I chose it (the wine country location didn’t hurt). So things like the packet pickup and pasta dinner were also a bit more manageable. Still busy, but not overwhelmingly so. Now, I must admit that the pasta dinner did make me nervous. It was set up as a buffet with everyone touching everything. The food was quite good but I would have preferred that it was plated for us, just to be extra cautious. After carbo loading, we headed back to the hotel. There, I finished up my regular pre-race routine. I laid out my clothes, charged up my Garmin, texted with my Mom, and set multiple alarms (and then checked them multiple times).
Even though the race didn’t start until 7:30am, I still had to get up at 4am. I had decided to take a bus to the starting line instead of Dan driving me there, and the instructions were to be at the high school by 5:30am. It wasn’t far away, but one must prepare for everything. Another nice thing about a small race- Dan dropped me off just feet away from the bus that I was to get on. No walking for blocks. No security checkpoints. I got on the bus, sat down, and was soon joined by a nice woman from Oregon. We chatted on the ride to the start, and it was really nice. It won’t surprise you to know that I was amongst the first people to arrive at the starting line around 6:00am. The wait was a little brutal. We were told we could wait on the bus, but they kept making us get off and find a different one for various reasons (i.e. the original bus I was on became the gear check bus). Race time closed in and I got in the porta potty line one last time, talked to more nice runners, and weathered a brief, passing wind storm.
Race time finally rolled around, and I was ready to go! Though the weather was perfect for running, it was a bit chilly for just standing around. Right at 7:30am, they signaled the start and off we went! I was really looking forward to being on a course new to me, and discovering new scenery. The vineyards were beautiful, and I really attempted to take it all in. It was a little crowded at the start, but not terribly so. My goal was to enjoy myself and anytime I can finish under 4 hours, I am generally pretty pleased. So I positioned myself near the 3:50 pace group, though I had no interest in actually being in the group. Personally, I hate the pace groups. People running too closely together. Pacers shouting out instructions. For the first mile it was fine and somewhat peaceful. Once we hit the first mile, it was like the pacers switched into military mode. There was a male and female teamed up and they were both barking commands. I couldn’t take it, so I had two choices- slow down or speed up. I choose the latter. Gradually, I tried to distance myself from the group, but I could still hear them behind me. Eventually, I got far enough ahead of them that I couldn’t hear them, and I was able to relax a bit. The course was fairly hilly in the beginning and some of the roads were at a slant, making it somewhat painful on the lower body. I could feel my legs tightening up early on. Given that it was a smaller race, there were also fewer water stops, something I should have looked up ahead of time and perhaps carried my own bottle. My legs were increasingly feeling uncomfortable, so I started taking two cups at each water station and then hoped I wouldn’t drink too much that I needed the bathroom. It’s a delicate, hard-to-achieve balance.
There were few spectators along the course. I was completely fine with that. I enjoy the solitude of the long run. The smaller crowds also made it easier to find Dan. He told me where he’d be on the course so I could look for him. As I approached that location, I was eagerly scanning the crowd for his familiar face. I started to panic slightly when I didn’t see him at first but all of sudden, I spotted him! I was so happy! He was okay and looked good. We runners worry just as much about our family as you do about us, in case you weren’t aware. Anyway, seeing Dan around mile 9 ½ was a nice boost! I tried to settle in and get comfortable. I felt as though I was running faster than I wanted to, especially that early in the race, but I needed to maintain a safe distance from the 3:50 group. I was ahead of the curve with the whole social distancing thing, it seemed.
As the miles wore on, I felt my pace slow just a bit. I was trying to calculate my finish time based on where I was, and as I approached mile 18, I could hear them behind me. Knowing I had lost some ground, I again had a choice to make. Pick up the pace and operate from a place of physical discomfort, or let them catch me and possibly collapse mentally. Though I have led or won VERY few races in my lifetime, I know the challenge of maintaining a fierce sense of competition after losing your position. Within the larger marathon, I was racing them. I was racing myself. I needed to stay strong or the last few miles would be brutal. I picked up the pace and was actually feeling quite good for several miles. What I’ve discovered from running marathons is that once you reach mile 20, you can start to let yourself imagine finishing. Once you only have 6, 5, 4, etc miles to go, you picture yourself on a short training run back at home and tell yourself, “Okay, it’s just like running your Nicollet Island loop; you’ve got this.” And yes, lately I have resorted to actually talking to myself. Out loud, but in a soft voice so only I can hear it.
As the miles ticked away, I noticed people starting to kick it in and it motivated me to dig deep for a good finish. We were in the city limits by now, and it was mostly flat. I tried hard to keep my legs working and my stride steady. I kept a close eye on the terrain to avoid things that trip up tired legs. The roads close to the high school weren’t fully shut down so all of sudden there would be cars driving next to us, which was alarming at first, but there was plenty of room for all of us. It wasn’t the most exciting finish area, and there certainly weren’t blocks of cheering fans (which I do appreciate at the end), but it was still the finish! After a series of turns, I could finally see the end! Whatever kick I had left, I used it. Crossing that finish line is always such a sweet and satisfying moment. I grabbed a bottle of water, got my medal and warming blanket, and set off to find Dan. Again, being it was a small race, I figured I should easily be able to find him. I headed towards the chute exit, which is always mobbed by people who for some reason, stand right at the exit. They basically block it, which is always a source of frustration for me. Anyway, I saw my husband standing a few yards back like a smart and rational person. Reuniting after the race is so exciting. It’s time to catch up on what we’ve been doing for the past 6+ hours. Of course, we know the basics of what each other was doing, but getting the specifics is a thrill.
The hours that fill the remainder of race days are precious to me. It’s time spent eating (and drinking, of course) and texting family and friends who cared enough to support me. It’s time spent replaying the race in my head so as to try and hold on to the moments. It’s time spent wishing time would slow down so the day wouldn’t end. It’s time spent wondering why I’m not at all tired, despite having been up since 4am and running a few miles in that time. It’s time spent in complete gratitude for the gifts and opportunities with which I’ve been blessed. I cherish each marathon, each mile, each step.
And while I didn’t want the day to come to end, I certainly enjoyed the remainder of our trip to California. Dan and I took a trip aboard the Napa Valley wine train, toured the Tesla factory in Fremont, and spent a day in San Francisco. With the threat of the pandemic looming over our heads, we did our best to enjoy a wonderful trip.
A week or so after our return, Dan asked me if I thought we made the right decision in going to California. Just a few moments earlier, I was thinking to myself how fortunate I felt to have gotten in not one but three trips before mid-March. Not only that, I was able to run my event. My heart breaks for all the people whose races have been cancelled in the weeks since. I guess we will likely never know if we made the right decision or not. We can’t know if we were asymptomatic carriers who might have infected someone else. I pray that is not the case. I’m grateful for the experience we had and will rely on those memories to get through this unimaginable time.