November 14, my good friend Karyn reached out via text “Hey old friend. Are you in marathon shape?” She was looking for a co-pacer to help her lead the 3:55 pace group at the California International Marathon (“CIM”) in Sacramento. My initial response was “I might be but I can’t commit for a few weeks while I test out the pace”. Karyn replied: “The race is December 3“

I hadn’t run a marathon (or any road race) since 2014. Since then, each time I considered entering another road marathon, the fear of not coming close to my old finish times stopped me. Ego is a relentless b!tch. Despite not running a marathon in 9 years, I still (egotistically and incorrectly) regarded myself as a 3:25-ish marathoner. But maybe delusion serves a purpose at times, because the thought of running a 3:55 marathon (8:57/mile) sounded attainable.

The last race I’d completed was in July 2021 – a 100 mile trail race at an average pace of nearly 16 minutes/mile- and ever since, I’ve dealt with various injuries, which led to a DNF at the same race in 2022. Then my husband broke his femur at mile 70 of Western States this past summer, and 48 hours later my daughter was in a horrific car crash – everyone survived thank God – but running was moved WAY down the list of priorities. I did a mix of dog walks, dog jogs, dog slogs, and an occasional longer trail run when I could. My longest run in 2023 was about 18 miles, and that was a slow trail run in September. Was I in “road marathon shape”? One way to find out.

2.5 Weeks to CIM

I set out for a 10-mile practice run on pavement the next morning, wearing road shoes that I’d purchased last year for fashion reasons. I felt amazing and thought “I can do this!” I texted Karyn after the run and told her to sign me up.

I committed to doing everything in my control to arrive at the start line healthy – this meant continuing my recent self-imposed ban of sweets (aside from fruit) and alcohol. No alcohol or sweets over Thanksgiving week was going to be a new version of hell but if the pacing job didn’t go well it was NOT going to be due to lack of effort on my part. I declared that all runs henceforth would be on pavement and deliberate (with apologies to my dogs). I scheduled massages with Ann Marie and perused Hal Higdon training plans, condensing 18 weeks of training into 1.5 weeks of focused running + 1 week of taper.

The next morning, tightness in my calf became extreme as I (stupidly) pushed through another quick-paced road run in the cute shoes. Panic. Ann Marie got me in for a massage the next day and also loaned me a massage tool to take home with me. Steve massaged my calf and instructed me to focus on running with the big muscles – glutes, quads. And maybe it was the shoes?? I decided to switch back to my ugly but reliable trail shoes. I was used to plodding along at 12-minute miles (or slower) on trails. Running fast on pavement was a whole new game and I realized I’d need to build in more cross-training days (spinning) to offset the shock from the pavement.

That first Saturday, I ran 16.5 miles in the cold rain around Donner Lake, on pavement. With the help of my trail shoes (+ Beyonce’s Renaissance album on repeat) I made it through, although the trail shoes caused radiating pain in my toes from 8 miles onward. I decided toe pain was preferable to calf tightness. My legs were shot, so I took the next 2 full days off from running.

The next week was a mixed bag of progress and setbacks, but I hammered on, focusing on the end goal.

Sunday, exactly one week before CIM, I changed shoes AGAIN, this time to hoka cliftons, which I had not used in years. I went out for a 10-mile run and nailed the marathon pace AND the foot and calf issues were gone. Now it was time to taper! I re-listened to mental training books (like Matt Fitzgerald’s “The Comeback Quotient”) and focused on getting my mind in the right place to face the challenges that would surely arise.

Race week, Karyn shared with me the tips and tricks she provides to the runners she coaches – I read and re-read them. I got a final massage from Ann Marie Friday night and packed my bags for the weekend.

Saturday morning, just as I was leaving home for the expo, I saw our Airbnb guest for the first time and walked across the driveway to introduce myself. The slope of the driveway was, in fact, covered in black ice and my feet slipped out from under me and I slammed down on the pavement hard on my left butt cheek.

I hobbled to the car and called Steve in tears. I’d fallen on the ice many times before and knew that the worst pain might take several hours or even overnight to set in. That was all out of my control – the only thing I could do was accept that it happened, hope for the best, and deal with whatever fallout ensued.

I met Karyn (and her partner Scott) at the expo and we had a great time working the Pace Team booth, meeting excited runners, answering questions about where to find us in the morning, what the course would be like, what the pace would be like, and so on. My face hurt from smiling so much. We went out for a fabulous pizza lunch (among Karyn’s pre-race tips: eat like a king early and a pauper late) and they hosted me at their beautiful home in Folsom for a quiet night in before the race.

The Big Day

We made it to the start line and found “our people” gathered around the 3:55 pace sign. As the sun began to rise, we chatted with friends, old and new (many were Karyn’s coachees). We were thrilled to see our longtime friend Carrie lined up with us for her birthday weekend run and 11th CIM. Karyn’s partner, Scott, was joining us for his 9th CIM.  Karyn was running her 24th CIM and 63rd marathon(!), and this would be my 5th CIM and 11th marathon.

Following the national anthem, the race began, and as we crossed the Start line my eyes welled up with tears. It had been a VERY hard summer with a lot of heartache and I didn’t think there’d be space for me to do anything like this. I was overflowing with gratitude and vowed to enjoy every moment – the good, the bad, the ugly.

The miles clicked by, like clockwork, with Karyn leading our finely tuned pacing machine. Every so often she’d call out reminders like “ok, Chin Up! Eyes on the horizon! Relax your shoulders, get them down away from your ears.  Wiggle your fingers. Wiggle your toes if you can! Nice and easy! Stay loose!” “Hydrate!” Quietly, Karyn and I were frequently checking our watches, comparing our paces and the time we hit each mile marker sign to the pre-printed pace chart we carried. At each respective mile, Karyn would notify the group of our timing “Ok we’re right on track! We have ___ seconds banked.” (the goal was to keep this number in the positive, but just barely. We were supposed to keep even splits throughout).

We were running with so many people in our group that my feet were frequently clipped, elbows were bumped, it was a juggling act to not trip anyone else or be tripped myself. As far as I could see ahead of us, there didn’t seem to be any break in the collective mass of runners. Karyn mentioned she loved the sound of the feet hitting the pavement and that helped me focus on this rhythmic and thunderous beat forward, relentless, together, with shared goals and dreams. We passed bands, drum groups, and cheerleaders – who all added to the rhythm and excitement. One band was playing “Oh when the Saints! Go marching in!” One guy stood solo on a hill playing the Rocky theme song on some kind of mouth harp. A woman dressed as a banana danced enthusiastically to her boombox holding a sign “YOU RUN! I DANCE!” Karyn is a legend in the running community and her MANY fans along the way hollered encouragement at our group.

As we moved along, Karyn announced the upcoming hills (“Use your arms to get up this roller!”), aid stations, and reminded us repeatedly about our form. She kept things light by asking questions – she wanted to hear who traveled the furthest, who was running their first marathon, who was running their first CIM, and what they had for breakfast. We had runners from Honduras, New York, Massachusetts, North Carolina, and more. The camaraderie in our group intensified as we progressed. Our new friends would call out “We’re doing this Together!” The amazing crowds along the way would see our pacing sign and yell out “LET’S GO 3:55!!” “Sub 4 YES!”

Despite the joy and gratitude I felt as we ran through beautiful Old Fair Oaks, mile 10, I had to acknowledge the increasing tightness gripping my left leg. All I could do was take deep breaths in and as I breathed out, try to release the tightness. The next 5 miles were the most challenging, and I prayed that the fall on the ice wasn’t going to overtake me (24 hours later). In a last-ditch effort to get through I convinced myself that the 3:55 pacing sign that Karyn was holding carried superpowers that would be transferred to me when it was my turn to take it back. I built this up in my mind and when I got it back and the crowds started directing their enthusiasm towards me – “GO 3:55!!” – sure enough that tightness began to disperse and by mile 21 I had full confidence I was going to make it with the others to the finish.

The closer we got to Sacramento, the more intense the crowd support, and the more beautiful the course became – thanks to the spectacular fall colors. It was a real treat to be “reliving” fall – my favorite season – I thought it was over. Just like I’d thought my days of marathons were over. Just like I’d thought this year would be over without an opportunity to complete a race.

Karyn led us up the H street bridge at mile 22 (“Use your arms!”) and encouraged anyone in the group who was feeling strong to blast off to the finish. She’d been prepping them for this moment throughout the run, and quite a few gleefully left us towards their new personal bests.

We rounded the last few turns around the Capitol Mall, taking note of Jesus holding the sign “THE END IS NEAR”. For the last stretch, Karyn and I held the 3:55 sign together as we crossed the finish line with our group in 3:54:42.

I later looked down and noticed blood stains on my shoes – the blisters on my big toes had exploded and I hadn’t even noticed! I felt like I’d been christened back into the road marathon club. When’s the next one?