Point Lobos State Nature Reserve
I did a thing today, six years in the making. I returned to Highway 1 along the California coast near Carmel to run the Big Sur 11-miler race. In 2019, I had a very good day running this same race along the narrow road above the Pacific Ocean, climbing and descending the hills, watching for whales on the horizon, smiling at the musicians along the way, their music urging runners on with their heavy beats. Then life: a pandemic, moving from Colorado to North Carolina, and yet again hamstring injuries got in the way of running longer distances–or any distance, for a while.
A year ago in March, I partially tore my right hamstring (MRI showed CHRONIC significant hamstring tears) once again while training for a trail run in Paris. Running was totally stopped for almost four months, physical therapy to strengthen the muscles around the hamstring (think clams, abductor leg lifts, single leg squats, hip raises, band shuffling, etc.) became a weekly activity, with aqua jogging as a stop gap measure to keep weight off the hamstring (but never a match for the endorphin and stress release that running provides me).
Big Sur 11-miler, April 2019
I was slowly allowed to try running, one minute run/one minute walk, gradually increasing both running and walking time. This regimen played out over a number of months until I was actually running–slowly but the movement that I never take for granted became once again a part of my weekly physical activities.
Doug and I come to California several times a year to visit his family and see friends, usually around some event or place that we miss now living on the east coast. He has run the Big Sur marathon a number of times while I’ve run the 21-miler, the 11-miler, the 10.6-miler, and the 9-miler. The runs are along Highway One on the only day all year that it closes to vehicle traffic. For those of you familiar with this part of the northern California coast, there is probably no stretch more beautiful, wild, or magical than this place (well, maybe the northern Sonoma coast).
Aspiration: Big Sur Marathon expo two days before race day
I thought I’d be ready to run 11 miles again but in the weeks leading up to today, six miles was about my maximum distance. I was definitely not ready for 11 miles: I researched the Jeff Galloway run/walk method, trying to see if that might work for me, knowing that walking in a race has always been contrary to what I’ve done. I knew I wouldn’t be able to run the whole way; I needed a mental governor to help with the parts I would need to walk. So I incorporated intentional walking into a few of my training runs, testing how I might ration the run/walk pacing. I decided ten minute running/one minute walking might be workable–although not entirely certain this would actually work, despite all the evidence to the contrary.
I ran the race today, in the rain, the wind, the gray skies, along with about 1,500 other 11-mile runners (and many marathon, 21-milers, and marathon relay runners). This course is hilly, with slightly more descent that ascent. The road is severely cambered (not good for legs). The scenery is stunning, though, even in the rain (heavy at times and steady during the first six or seven miles). I ran for about 40 minutes and then integrated some intentional walking for a minute at a time. I didn’t push the running. I didn’t check the pace. I ran by effort, pushing through up the hills, relishing the gravity of running down the hills. I didn’t admonish myself for walking. It seemed appropriate given my state of readiness and the weather. Overall, then, a “good effort,” as one of our Asheville friends used to say.
Big Sur 11-miler about mile two, April 27, 2025
I try not to compare this year’s run to the race in 2019; instead, I consider my expectations (or wanted expectations) for my life as it is today. Easy to say, hard to do. But maybe a break-through. Maybe this will be my last “official” organized run except for family Thanksgiving Day runs. Maybe I will continue to heal and strengthen so that I’m not felled by those nasty hamstrings. Whatever awaits, I can say without question that running continues in my blood, in my heart, in my mind. It brings memories of friends, of running in the Redwoods, of joy and excellence. Today was a good day.
Carmel beach, near the end of the race