Napa Valley Half Marathon

Napa Valley Half Marathon

Napa, CA

3 March 2019

Decades ago, when the concept of running a half or full marathon was nothing more than some obscene idea in my head, I had only opted to plod my way through some locally produced 5Ks or an occasional 10K.  I never dreamed of anything more.

Back in the late 1990s, the seed of possibly running a half marathon was planted, as I opted to sign up for my first half marathon, the “original” Bakersfield Half Marathon.   Then, soon after completing my first full marathon in October 2000, long distance running became my chosen addiction and drug of choice.

Fast forward nearly twenty years.  Established in 2019, and new to NVM organization, is the investiture of the Napa Valley Half Marathon.  Since 1979, Napa Valley hosted only a full marathon on a point-to-point course along the Silverado Trail (not actually a trail, but rather a paved highway) commencing in Calistoga and closing out in Napa.

I was humbled and excited to participate in the inaugural NVM half marathon and to bear witness to both men and women runners setting new course records.  But even more so, I was inspired to see ordinary people accomplishing their goals – normal people like you and me.

Whether runners look to knock off a bucket list item, run for a cause, or run in memory of a loved one, they are an amazing testament who lead by example, that nothing is impossible and I never forget that anyone can run a half, or even, a full marathon.  Anyone.

Running NVM was not my original aim, nor was it on my radar as a “must do” race, but being invited to run as a pace leader for this popular and esteemed, and often sold-out event, captured my mojo to sign up for the experience.

With that said, NVM is not an all-out PR attempt or anything resembling one.  I saw it as a chance to complete thirteen miles at a comfortable 9:55 pace (2:10 overall), giving me an opportunity to experience:

• What this course has to offer and whether it lives up to its reputation;
• What kind of shape I’m in after rehabilitating an injured hamstring; and finally
• Running for someone else while giving back to the running community.

It’s always a very rewarding experience being a pacer.  Runners always remember their best race and that beaming smile as one crosses the finish line and just how good it makes one feel.  For me, being able to see a similar smile on another runner’s face as they cross the finish line with me, and knowing that I played an integral part with their journey, is a reward only pacers can understand.

In the midst of a very rainy and ugly day back in March 1999, my wife ran the NVM and is no stranger to the course.  Now, a more experienced and seasoned marathoner, she volunteered to pace the full marathon, while I happily agreed to pace the half marathon largely because…it’s easier, it’s in my comfort zone, and my success rate is much higher compared to a full.

Being a pacer is a tough job and with it, bears a huge responsibility and fulfilling that obligation is very gratifying.  I take that responsibility seriously; but, there’s always that unexpected chance of failure.

I’ve often read that hamstring injuries are incredibly common for runners, so common in fact that occasionally us less serious “middle-of-the-pack” athletes aren’t exempt! 

Picture the scene, 11 February 2019.  Long day driving to Sacramento completed, legs feeling slightly heavy, but I need a workout.  With heavy rains and a less-than-desirable weather forecast over the next two days, my guilty conscience won’t let me skip an evening interval run on the roads through Discovery Park and parts of South Natomas.  A placid warm up is usually standard practice before embarking on a run, but with my eagerness to begin my five-mile workout, it seemed a good idea at the time to just get my interval run over and done.  BAD MOVE.  

Even with a moderate pace, with just over a mile left of my late afternoon run, I felt a sharp pain in the lateral aspect of my hamstring muscle and I suddenly found myself performing a funny looking hop/skip dance, with my right hand clutching the back-side of my right leg despite still remaining in a vertical position.  “Damn!” was the first word uttered as thoughts of bowing out of the NVM surged through my mind as if my life flashed before my eyes as I painfully walked back to my hotel room in the dark cold breezy air.

After a few minutes of self-condemnation, I realized that this acute hamstring injury was to put me out of commission for a couple of weeks with an opportunity to put some rehabilitation principles into practice.

It was impossible to grade the injury exactly as by the standard book definitions.  I definitely felt a tear with well-defined, localized pain but there was no obvious palpable defect in the muscle, or any indication of a hematoma.  Stretching definitely reproduced the pain but I hadn’t lost function and therefore I can only assume it was a minor Grade 1 tear.

The maximal point of tenderness indicates the whereabouts of the tear – the closer this point is to either the back side of the knee or the ischial

tuberosity (aka, the sit bone) the less blood-flow to the area, thus the longer it takes to mend.  GOOD NEWS.  Mine was in the medial portion of the mid-hamstring, meaning a swifter recovery.

Following my injury stint, my lack of running had me a little concerned.  All I could hope for was the time spent in the gym with spinning classes, walking on the treadmill and working on my core and upper body strength would maintain at least some of my pre-injury endurance levels.  From what I know, lower mileage correlates to higher finishing times. 

Going in to NVM, I trusted that my training would serve me well, at the same time, I couldn't shake off that one, small lingering doubt lurking in the back of my mind.

The Napa Valley is an easy meagre four-hour drive from our home.  With no airport hassles, car rentals or long road trips to deal with, it was a breath of fresh air knowing Napa was, for all intents and purposes, in our backyard.

In the days leading up to the marathon, I kept my eye on the weekend weather forecasts.  During the week, an atmospheric river dumped copious amounts of rain causing rivers to swell, flooding low-lying areas throughout Northern and Central California.  I wasn’t too particularly concerned about flooding from the Napa River since peak flows crested days before the marathon and that river flows were on the recession limb of the river’s hydrograph.

The Expo/Packet Pick-up

The Napa Valley Marriott hosted the marathon expo.  For NVM’s reputation, and all the national recognition it receives, I found the expo to be rather plain, small and uneventful, but packet and shirt pick-up was well organized, quick and easy, and this year’s race swag was not disappointing.  Each race participant received a high quality over-the-shoulder bag/satchel which runners could utilize as a clothing drop bag.

Marathon legends Magdalena Boulet and Jorge Maravilla were the featured speakers and spoke about their journeys to the United States, adventures in running and where it has taken them.  Unfortunately, due to our travel time to Napa, we were unable to make ourselves present; however, we attended a post lunch Q&A session consisting of four veteran NVM marathoners discussing how to run NVM and the strategies involved.  What was learned?  Not much, but I wish panelist and Olympic qualifier Mary Coordt, and four-time winner of NVM, was able to speak more about her personal running experiences.

My wife and I retired early for the night so we could get up somewhat easily at 0400.  With everything laid out the night before, we planned being out the door by 0430 for our thirty-minute drive from our Fairfield hotel to Napa.

I had hopes of a decent night’s rest, but it turned into a terrible and perhaps the worst night’s sleep in a long time.  At the most inopportune time, I came down with a nasty cold, sore throat and never-ending coughing fits keeping me up all night.  I accepted the fact that my nighttime ordeal would likely impact and affect my running ambitions.  Admittedly I was worried, but I had a job to do and could only do it in the best way possible.

Somewhere on Highway 29 as we approached the outskirts of Napa, I noticed I wasn’t sporting my Garmin watch – I left it in our room.  I had my dependable all-weather homemade pace band wrapped around my wrist, but no watch to accessorize it.  Being too far to drive back, my only option was to employ my iPhone stopwatch and to rely on my co-pacer setting the proper pace.  I felt like crap with my head in a fog and it appeared as if my race day adventure was spiraling in the wrong direction and that this would end up being a bad day for me.  I turned to the bright side, at least it wasn’t raining, but the way things were going, that could change.

Transportation to the starting line began at Justin Siena High School (for the half marathon) and Vintage High School (for the full) at 0515 and 0530, respectively.  My wife dropped me off at JSHS before she parked the car a short distance away at VHS, also the site of the finish line.

The bus loading area was well organized and prompt with a multitude of school buses lined up prepared to transport 2000 runners.  Because I needed to be at the starting line staging area earlier than I had wanted to be, I secured a seat on the second bus.  I hate riding school buses – they’re not designed for adults.

Shall I Do This?

It is the discretion of each individual race whether to ban or allow headphones.  Because this is Napa, iPod headphones, or whatever your chosen device, are banned and race officials made this abundantly clear to all runners – I presume for the interest of runner safety.  Yet, I observed a number of runners with wireless earbuds protruding from their ears.  So much for enforcement.

I respect the bans and prefer to run without music in the first place.  I appreciate the solitude of race courses and when runners are instead tuned into their surroundings, people can actually strike up conversations, hear what’s going on, and exchange banter with other runners without the annoying, “What?” as they begrudgingly pull out their ear buds.  

The half marathon begins on the Silverado Trail in front of the Conn Creek Winery.  The bus pulled in to the staging area near the start at 0545 with some sort of confusion where the driver was to park.  A light drizzle began falling as I disembarked the bus.  Because I was so early, I was able to use the freshly sanitized porta-johns without waiting in line.  If one desires to pay additional fees, VIP registrants were able to use the lounges and facilities inside the winery building.  To me, not worth the added cost.

As additional buses arrived, it wasn’t long before there were plenty of folks milling about, lining up for the porta-johns, warming up, stretching, eating, drinking, taking pictures or just sitting down on the wet pavement.  Portable lights illuminated staging areas as the sky was still in civil twilight, and without ample daylight, beholding the acres of vineyards accentuating the rain-soaked rural landscape against the ashen sky was not possible. 

An assortment of plastic storage bins labeled to correspond to Half Marathon Miles 3.1, 5.4, and 9.3 sat alongside an information table.  Runners who desire special drink concoctions, besides the typical water and Nuun electrolyte liquids at aid stations, can use them to deposit their own special drink containers in the appropriate bin, which will be set up on a separate aid station table.  However, with the number of bottles set out, it may break the stride and focus of some runners as they attempt to pick out their own bottle as they approach the table.  Either way, it beats carrying your own bottle as you run.

Typically, a single pacer leads a specific pace group, but with NVM, organizers instead arranged for two pacers to lead each group.  Following a photo-op with all the pacers, my co-pacer and I discussed our strategy – go out easy similar to a shake-out run and gradually build up to race pace.  That sounds easy, but it seems to never materialize.  Since I was far from feeling one hundred percent, I was glad another pacer was there to take the reins, if necessary.

The air seemed cooler in the rural locale compared to Napa’s heat island effect, and the light to moderate drizzle made for ideal running.  As long as the rain remained at bay, I hoped for a successful pacing adventure; but, I couldn’t help beginning the day with some sort of trepidation and worry if my hamstring muscle pull would resurface as the race unfolded.

The quality of my voice deteriorated rapidly as the morning evolved developing into an extremely hoarse tone.  I was unable to clearly annunciate my words as I talked with other runners.  As I spoke, I began coughing and I felt my energy levels beginning to wane, and the thought of running thirteen miles seemed like a colossal task.  I was thankful I was not prepping myself for a full marathon!

Waiting to begin my journey

Generally, I get nervous as I wait for the start.  The butterflies typically start fluttering in my stomach as I wait in the standing queue of runners.  But, unlike a typical day, I seemed eerily calm and relaxed.  I didn’t feel overconfident and that actually worried me.  Maybe I wasn’t thinking about my goal time nor what I wanted to accomplish.  I’ve paced 2:10 many times before.  I can do it in my sleep.  I figured I was just “in” the moment.

Following a ten-year-old girl’s rendition of the national anthem, the half marathon began its march down the Silverado Trail promptly at 0700, a half hour earlier than the full marathon and a full 13.1-mile advantage.  With the earlier start time and distance gap, I am only surrounded by half marathon runners and need not be concerned with obstructing or hindering the progress of the faster marathon runners as they eventually catch up to the halfers. 

As the early morning drizzle faded into oblivion, our group charged through the red inflatable starting gate with a relaxed pace.  The jovial, breezy and hopeful runners in my group eagerly looked forward to the run.  As we passed the first mile marker, my co-pacer declared, “we’re twenty seconds fast.”  I hinted to my co-pacer, “so much for the shake-out pace.” 

We slowed our pace to some extent after the second mile as we tackled one of the slight uphill grades.  That’s when my lingering doubt became reality – my hamstring injury resurfaced.  I adjusted my gait to relieve some pain as I tried to maintain pace.  Being mindful of the possibility of some other peripheral injury due to favoring one leg, I unenthusiastically willed the official pace sign to my co-pacer, told her what happened and I slowly dropped out of the group, leaving me to run my own race.

Being disappointed is an understatement.  It was categorically a letdown – for the team and for me.  I hate failing and I felt really bad, knowing all I could do was salvage a dreadful run in the best way possible.  With eleven plus miles remaining, I quickly realized that this race was rapidly nose-diving from an enjoyable road race to a half marathon from hell.  No watch, no sleep, being sick, hoarse voice, coughing, heavy wheezy breathing, not being able to meet my time goal, and a bad leg all underwriting a disappointing day.  I seriously considered abandoning the race and calling for the “swag wag” to carry me to the finish line.  But, I wasn’t about to let that happen.  As long as I could at least walk, I was resolute in seeing myself to the finish.



Map

The course is net downhill as the rudimentary plan-profile map illustrates.  Seemingly endless wineries dominate the landscape.  The grape vines lined up ever so neatly were still in dormancy mode and did not afford runners much visual stimulation.  

Even with my handicap, I felt that the ups and downs littered on the course were more of a way to keep you honest than to pose any kind of challenge. 

After Half Marathon Mile 3, I decided to wash down a couple of my reliable acetaminophen caplets to smooth the rough edges off the pain.  From experience, after the active ingredient kinks in to high gear, I anticipated a faster pace for the next two miles.  I was right, the next two miles felt great as I cautiously stepped up my pace, but not too much.  I was able to keep the 2:10 group within sight, but just couldn’t muster up enough energy to catch them.

In the hours leading up to the race, participants couldn’t escape the talk of “the hill” that runners confront at Marathon Mile 19 or Half Marathon Mile 6.  Some equate it to NVM’s version of Boston’s Heartbreak Hill, while others say it’s no big deal. 

Stuck in my head for whatever reason, I couldn’t set aside that huge hill that awaited me.  I thought that when I get over that hill, everything would be smooth sailing.  It was a pleasant surprise that this hill I dreaded (really a smooth gentle incline) essentially came unnoticed.  If I hadn’t known about it, I wouldn’t have even perceived it as a dreaded landmark.  I was already at Half Marathon Mile 7 when I realized that I must have gone over that significant hill.  I wish every marathon would be that way, you pass a particular landmark without even realizing it.

Over the next three miles, it was level running, and I kept watching for the next landmark, the right turn off Silverado Trail.  Once the final turns began, I knew the race was just about over.  

Shortly before Half Marathon Mile 10, runners made the first turn onto Oak Knoll Avenue up and over an old narrow moss-covered spalling concrete bridge spanning the rain-swollen turbid waters of the Napa River.  The pain held steady and endurable but wasn’t getting any worse.  At this point, I knew I was going to finish and estimated a 2:15 ETA.

Just after crossing the bridge, a young runner approached me asking if I was pacing.  I told her that “I was originally 2:10, but now, I’m the unofficial 2:15 pacer.”  I held a momentary belief I was going to have company, but she charged off without even looking back.

The next three miles consisted of a series of turns through farm lands and into Napa city streets.  I could hear the finish line music and the fervent enthusiastic announcer in the distance as I neared the high school.  Spectators began to line the course, raising my spirits and energy levels as strangers cheered and clapped, leaving me to wonder if they thought either “that pacer went out too fast” or “sloughed off and couldn’t hack it.”

Eeking out a fellow runner

As I entered the chute at Vintage High School and made the final right turn, the two large inflatable columns marking the finish line ahead of me was indeed a sight for sore eyes.  The announcer called out my name and said, “we have a race!” as I gave all the oomph I had, passing several runners.  As my left calf began to cramp, I stumbled toward the finishing mat, clocking in with a time of 2:13:31.  A kind gentleman immediately greeted me, who uncapped a water bottle for me, grabbed my elbow and escorted me to a student volunteer who placed a finisher medal around my neck.  That kind man must have sensed I was in some sort of discomfort and made sure I was able to function on my own.  Such helpful volunteers always make me feel like a superstar.

All of the students and volunteers along the course and in the finish line area were so helpful and are appreciated.  Truly, they are the gems of the organization and I can’t thank them enough.  

RACE STATS:

Distance: Half marathon (13.1 mi).  What my Garmin would measure?  Who knows.

Date: 3 March 2019

Bib No.: 3447

Weather at start: 45°F, Cloudy with a light-moderate drizzle

Gun time: 2:14:38

Chip time: 2:13:31

Average pace: 10:11 per mile

Overall rank: 916 of 2102

Gender rank: 410 of 758

Division rank: 37 of 85

Age graded score: 50.56%

Age graded time: 1:55:29

iPhone splits (approximate): 9:38, 10:00, 10:32, 9:57, 9:26, 10:17, 9:56, 10:13, 10:19, 10:54, 10:30, 10:14, 10:21, 1:14 (remaining 0.1±)

LIKES / WHAT WORKED:

• Net downhill course. 
• Very well-organized event from packet pick-up, the multiple aid stations along the course to bag drop and pick up.
• Super friendly volunteer support.
• Spectacular scenery.
• Great theater at the finish.
• No significant climbs.
• Easy parking race morning.
• FINISHING!!

DISLIKES / WHAT DIDN’T WORK:

• Very little spectator support.
• Being injured, sick and weak.
• Riding on school buses.
• The PA system at the start was barely audible and sounded like a Charlie Brown special as adults mutter, “Wa-wa wa-wa-wa.”

My time was better than I had predicted, yet still a failure in my book.  Given the circumstances, what else could one do?  After consuming a banana, a fig bar and guzzling a couple bottles of water, I ambled over to the gymnasium to retrieve my drop bag, change shirts and put on some layers to avoid chilling too much.  Sure, I was a little stiff, my quads ached, but my hamstring wasn’t hurting as I expected. 

With two hours to kill, I found the sanctuary of the cafeteria where I relaxed, had some bowls of delicious hot chicken noodle soup, a fruit cup and some iced tea.  It was a refuge from the outside elements where I could sit, lounge, talk with other runners and wait for my wife to finish the marathon.  At the end of the day, she hit her pace time right on the nose.  At least one of us was happy during our drive home.  Will I run NVM again?  Probably not.

Final thoughts:

Up until now, I’ve focused my blog reviews towards my fifty-state quest.  I haven’t included any reviews of half marathons, primarily such events typically transpire within two hours of my home base.  But, after running in the Napa Valley, I decided to take on the challenge of writing a review.

There were a couple of things I learned about the Napa Valley Marathon.  First, the scenery along the course as every bit as stunning as you would imagine on a country road winding through some of the state’s iconic wine country, even with the gray skies, damp moist air and saturated land and with the endless acres of grape vines void of leaves.  Secondly, the race was impeccably organized, with every last conceivable detail executed by some of the most enthusiastic volunteers you'll ever meet.  Moreover, you have to love a marathon that features beer and wine tasting at the marathon expo.

Finishing a full or half marathon is an accomplishment in itself, but in different ways.  Running a full marathon is tantamount to climbing Mount Everest, while the half may be synonymous to reaching base camp.  Reaching base camp is tough enough, but it’s that final difficult push to the summit that differentiates the two.  The human body was not meant to climb Mount Everest nor breathe its thin air.  It serves no indispensable purpose to the rest of civilization, but only to those who literally live on the edge or with an internal burning desire to do it.  The climb up the mountain is chock-full of real dangers, yet people do it anyway and we celebrate those that do. 

You learn a lot about yourself and look at the world in new ways pursuing dramatic, yet obsessively absurd quests, which is why I'm glad I took on this challenge of running marathons and traveling the fifty states in the first place.  Battling injuries, pains, fatigue, and soreness are barriers runners must overcome.  Twenty-five years ago, the mere idea of running a marathon was totally inconceivable, but I've broken down significant barriers to prove it’s possible.  That's what runners do, break down barriers.  Breaking down barriers in running has given me the skills and resolve to take on challenges of life, which have far greater consequences than a finishing time and a medal draped over your neck.

But you'll notice in all my blog reviews the emphasis on the word “I” because running a marathon is considered a self-centered act, even if family, friends or friendly strangers are cheering you on as you make your way along the course.  Trying to achieve the family-work-running balance becomes exponentially harder when the running part of that triad involves early morning runs, running in the heat or weekend long runs necessary to prepare for a marathon.

Even after my 50-state quest concludes, something tells me I'll be on the marathon starting line again, but there's a lot more to running than marathons.  Perhaps I’ll be doing non-marathon running stuff in the meantime – but something leads me to believe that won’t be truthful.

Onward and upward.