Race Report - Folsom Blues Breakout

Folsom Blues Breakout Race 2017

This race has been on my bucket list for a few years because it's near my home and it's a well attended race among my Moms Run This Town group.  It was my second fall half marathon this season, and I went into it with a new strategy after learning some lessons about pacing and ambition at my last half marathon in August.

This year's Folsom Blues Breakout was a new course.  The race organizers had to change it due to a landslide last winter that blocked a significant part of the path around Lake Natomas.  Normally, this race starts near the Folsom Dam and then does a complete counter clockwise loop around Lake Natomas.  This year, they opted for an out-and-back on the Old Town side of the lake.  While there were some rumblings of dissent amongst those who don't like out-and-backs generally, I was actually fairly pleased because the course stayed on my favorite side of the lake.

The transportation to the start of the race was the one aspect that I found to be a downer.  The race starts in the middle of a main road with no side streets or parking.  There is no way to get close to the start and park a car.  The best one can do is talk a buddy into getting up early and dropping them off near the start.  If you are in Folsom, you can get within quarter of a mile to the start.  If you live on the Granite Bay side, the drop off is more like half a mile away.  Again, at both of those spots there's no way to leave a car.  If you live on the Granite Bay side and want to have your driver drop you on the Folsom side, they can't get back home because the roads get closed leading back to Granite Bay.  

We ended up deciding to drive to the parking garage in Old Town Folsom where the race ends (which is 3 miles away from where it starts).  We paid the $10 each for the 10 minute bus ride to the start.  Our inexpensive $45 marathon just jumped to a $55 marathon for each of us (hubby and I always register together).  The bus leaves really early for the start, so we sat on the bus at the starting line for an hour staying warm and watching the sunrise over Folsom Lake.

As always, MRTT had a terrific turnout from our various local chapters so we had plenty of time to gather for a photo and chat before the start. 

My strategy for this race was all about avoiding the stabbing knee pain I'm getting at mile 11 when my calves lock up.  So I started out thinking I'd do the first half slow and then strive for slightly negative splits for the second half.  While I think I hit that strategy in terms of energy output, the numbers were harder to prove the theory.  But there's a good reason for that.

The first four miles of this race are downhill.  Some of that downhill is fairly significant.  I buddied up with a couple friends from the group and set out with them.  I was conserving energy, getting warmed up and just letting the hill take me while chatting with them.  When we leveled off and began mile 5, I decided I needed to cut loose from them and get my race strategy going.  

I kept my pace chugging along in the 10:00-10:40 pace zone, popped in some relatively boring podcast to give myself something to think about that wasn't pace and just ran.  At every mile increment starting with 6.5, I made myself walk 1 minute and take another minute to stretch my hamstrings and hips.  My theory was that I just needed to lengthen those areas that are binding up so they stay fluid and allow me to finish without pain.

The turnaround point for this year's race was near the Sacramento State Aquatic Center.  As I was heading into that space, my husband was coming out of it.  We had a quick high five and I told him I was doing well and encouraged him to keep it up.  He was a good mile and a half ahead of me and running strong.  That was a nice boost to my enthusiasm and I headed toward the turnaround with a smile on my face.

As I rounded the bend, boring political podcast droning on in my right ear, there was a small group of people screaming and yelling, making a racket with cowbells and having a great time cheering runners on.  It took me a couple minutes to get closer to their curve before I realized they were MY TRIBE.  It's impossible to put into words how surprised I was to see them all out there.  Each of them was wearing a Cancer Sucks pink t-shirt in my honor, jumping up and down like crazy fools and banging those cowbells.  I don't think I've ever had a group of friends show up at a race specifically for the purpose of cheering for me.  Our big group cheers on everyone, and it's awesome, but there was something stunningly heartfelt about seeing these ladies out there in my honor.  

We stopped for a quick photo (the look on my face shows how absolutely stunned I was) and they sent me on my way.  Absolutely energized, I decided that would be the point where I'd start thinking about my pace and working toward that negative split goal.  I knew I needed to be mindful of picking it up too fast because that's what took me out at the Salinas Valley Half in August.

So I went from 10:24 down to 10:14 and kept moving, now with a little pep in my step.  Then those crazy fool friends of mine went zooming by on the highway headed toward the start just as I was parallel to the road.  Honking and hanging out the windows, their energy just kept refilling me.

My pace crept down to 10:05 and I switched to an old music file I created 3 years ago when I first started running.  Nowadays, I almost never run with music.  I prefer to hear everything around me, whether it's cars on roads or mountain bikes on trails, it feels safer to have my senses engaged.  But this is a closed course with tons of people around, so I felt safe and figured the music would be fun.  

And what a treat to hear the old tunes that I started with when I decided to take up running. These songs reminded me that not that long ago, it was hard to run for ten minutes straight.  They reminded me I've put in a lot of work, my body has gotten stronger, and I've come a long way.  Another boost for my energy reserves!

Then my crazy friends popped up again along the trail.  Honestly, I cannot imagine where they found a place to park and am pretty sure the legality of where they left their car must've been questionable.  They're still jumping up and down and ringing those cowbells.  And I'm just feeling honored and I'm thinking the people around me are wondering what's so special about this average runner chugging along with them.  (It's not so much me that's special, it's my crazy friendships with those ladies!).

My pace holds steady at just over 10:00 and I'm still stopping at every 0.5 increment for my walk/stretch so my running pace was closer to an even 10.  I've been disciplined about it and stopped at 6.5, 7.5, etc all the way through and I'm pondering when I should stop that and just run to the end.  But at 11.5 I can feel my knee pain coming.  It's almost like my knee is bending backwards, with a knife stuck in the side.  It's just tight muscles and tendons, my IT band sticking to the muscles, I know I'm not structurally injured.  I'm just getting tired and tense and stiff.  And I also think part of it is in my mind.  So I push it away and decide to keep my walk/stretch breaks going at 11.5 and even 12.5 despite wanting to get to the end and see what my time was.

My 12th mile pace was a 9:52, which is really really strong for me at that point. It was my fastest mile of the whole course, including the starting downhills.  There's a long uphill in that stretch that SUCKS and I was feeling like I was running on fumes.  As I rounded the top of the hill to enter Old Town Folsom, there was an ambulance literally loading a runner onto a stretcher.  Thinking that the hill was crushing people made me fight even harder to get to the top.

I rounded the corner and could see the finish line and my knee was screaming.  I was trying all types of little adjustments to vary my stride and get to the end.  Turns out all I really needed was a distraction.

My crazy cheering crew jumped out of the crowd at that point, cowbells blaring, all 4 of them ran me into the finish line.  With all that cowbell, I couldn't hear myself think, much less feel my knee.  After a few minutes of celebrating, they were unceremoniously kicked out of the finishing corral by a race marshal and we all headed to the Heckle House Alehouse for beer.

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