Many years ago in another time’s forgotten space, I went running in the Presidio. The hour was getting short, the NBA Finals were at hand, and there was a bus waiting at the hotel to take the press over the Bay Bridge to Oakland for practice. While the responsible voice inside my head was urging me to wrap it up and get back to real life, another sound began to emerge from deep within: Dude, keep going.
As I was getting further drawn in by this particular siren song, I came upon a runner dressed in tattered painter’s pants and beat up New Balance’s. He blazed by in a flash, an apparition from the 70s, long hair flowing in the breeze. He was the kind of physical specimen that can only be found in the Bay Area: totally chill, impressively bronzed, and impossibly fit.
We got to talking and it turned out he was on his way over the Golden Gate Bridge into Marin to run the Headlands. Would I like to join him? I hated to turn down the invitation, but I was now on the verge of being very late. Visions of getting stuck in East Bay traffic filled my head. Marin would have to wait.
“Some day, brother,” he called back before disappearing into the fog. “Some day.”
Some day has finally arrived. On Saturday, I’m joining several hundred badasses in running the Tamalpa Headlands 50K. In addition to being an iconic race, there’s live tracking as Headlands happens to be this year’s host for the USTAF national 50K trail championships. All of which adds a much bigger layer of importance than the majority of my events. No matter.
For me, this race is much bigger than personal glory or validation. Equal parts spiritual quest and 50th birthday present to myself, the Headlands 50K has brought me full circle back near the place where I was born in Santa Cruz. It feels like coming home to a place I have always known yet rarely visited.
There seems to be a kind of magic in the air, an ephemeral zone that I’m having a hard time embracing or articulating, but can sense is as real as the redwoods growing outside my door. This enchanted feeling, I assume, is as natural as breathing out here.
Emotional energy aside, I’m going into this race as fit as I’ve ever been for a 50K. With a bit of marathon speed left over from the spring and an aerobic system fortified by long runs in northeast summer heat and humidity, there’s no reason to hold anything back.
At the same time, I’ve been appropriately humbled by what I’ve experienced this past week while on vacation with my family. The course features 6,500 feet of up-and-down elevation gain on several of the area’s iconic trails including Coastal, Miwok, and Dipsea to name three.
Marin is a trail runner’s paradise and you can sense the history with every mind blowing twist and turn. How can anyone ever have a normal training run out here, when every route feels epic? Without really knowing what I was doing, I managed to knock out both the biggest climb and the toughest descent by linking Dipsea>Steep Ravine>Matt Davis.
The experience was both nerve-wracking and awe-inspiring. The trails were tougher and gnarlier than I expected, yet even cooler than I could have imagined. All I could do was look around and laugh. Am I really here? Is this really happening?
And so, as I think about my hopes and goals for this race, I feel the need to throw time and place out the window. Honestly, who cares about any of that? If I told you that Avery pegged a time of 5 hours and 33 minutes, which would put me within striking distance of a new PR, would you think any less of me if I came in after six hours?
My training has prepared me to run fast, but more importantly, my training has prepared me to enjoy the experience. My goal, then, is to simply go with the flow. If I feel like racing, I’ll let it rip. If I feel like taking my time, I’ll be sure to enjoy the views.
When you think about it, going with the flow is a pretty noble goal because I’m committing to rolling with whatever the day brings: good, bad, or indifferent. By going with the flow, I inherently recognize there will be forces beyond my control. Some may work against me and some of them may play out in my favor. My only obligation is to stay out of the way and ride each wave to its natural conclusion.
If I can be fully present in the moment, mentally engaged with the task at hand, and physically primed to perform then everything else will take care of itself. Ego, pride, and vanity have no place in this race plan. To be successful on Saturday, my motives must remain pure and my intentions true.
If I can do all that, I have a feeling there will be a bigger prize waiting for me at the finish than any podium or swag bag could provide. More than anything, I have a feeling running in Marin is going to be epic. And totally worth the wait.
Time to celebrate all that training, Paul! Have so much fun!!!
We will all be behind you, pushing you forward from afar (but I doubt you'll need us).
I think the thing thing that I've come to terms with in the last ten years or so is that time isn't all that important. I'm never going to be a competitor in any major event, only in my own head. Enjoying the ride is more important, and after all, isn't that what preparing for something like this is for? To make it easier on your mind and body?
I regularly say this to folks I know who put in the work so I'll say it again here " I don't wish luck to those who don't need it. Go kick ass." All of us RPers a rooting for you, Paul! Go enjoy the run, the scenery, the vibe. That is what it's all about! And enjoy this official kickoff of 50.