Napa Valley Trail Half Marathon (aka, the race in which spouse lied to me)

'Lie' is kind of a strong word. It implies open deception. I'll admit that I like this word, "lie," because it's my blog, and I can inject whatever drama I want to to make my story sound better. If I were being truthful, I suppose I would admit that spouse was not being actively or willfully deceptive, though there was definite deception.

At a minimum, there was a lack of information.

Napa Valley, California. Northern California. I seem to go there regularly. Every time I go back I get PTSD flashbacks from Vineman. Every time I see vineyards I flash back to that long, hot day in the saddle passing row after row of grapevine for 112 miles...and I shake it off.

This one was a bonus race. A 'fun run.' Spouse signed us up. He was supposed to have a training course that coincided with this - hey if he's gotta be outta town, let's go see the countryside on foot, right? Right!

So sends me the website link - it looks pretty. I'm in. I'm such an easy sell. He signs us up. His training course, in the meantime, has been cancelled - but we decide to go anyway. My motto is, never look a free-weekend-racing-without-kiddos gift horse in the mouth. Meantime, I've been crazy busy (see previously posted ambiguous language about not having a lot of time to blog), and I'm trusting spouse on this. Trusting that he knows what he's getting us into. So trusting, I am, since it's a training race for fun.

Sheesh, it's only a half marathon. I've done a 50K. You can't scare me with 13.1 miles!!

For the record, feel free to remind me of this moment, should I ever be heard uttering that phrase again.

If it's starting to sound like an adventure of my own making, I'd like to make it known that I didn't walk into this totally cold. I at least knew that it was a 2 loop course, with 1 aid station for the whole race - which means I've brought my own nutrition. I'm prepared in that regard. And I know it's trail. And I know it's been warm, so I'm dressed accordingly. I saw the pictures, so I know there's trees. And I know it's in California because I flew there. Outside that, I'll admit I'm pretty clueless.

Lest we forget who the real show-stealer is, let's get to the part where spouse omits certain details and point fingers at him.

On the way to the race, I ask spouse to tell me something about the course we're about to embark on. What is the elevation profile, anyway? He says (pretending to look it up) 'oh, it's about 500 feet of climbing' and I can't believe my luck. We're here in a beautiful part of the state with pretty trees, and soft trail underfoot, and it's warm and sunny. I'm about to set off on an easy trail run - who knew there was such a thing!

So trusting, I am...

On the way up he tells me about this show he heard about, or watched part of, or something...he tells me about it. You know he funny guy who was in 'Pineapple Express' now has his own show, is it on HBO? Anyway - I heard this great line. The guy is an ex-baseball player, and he's like a total redneck, and somebody suggests triathlon to him...and he says, "no dude, I play a real sport, I'm not trying to see who's best at exercising."

Huh huh. That's great hon.

(OK, it was kinda funny).

Spouse has signed up for the marathon, and even by his own standards he's not well prepared. His ankle has been giving him trouble for the past month or so, and his mileage volume isn't where he'd like to be. But with a profile like that, it should be a fun race. Right?

We get there, we park, the parking area is in a nice little tree ringed area, there's showers and bathrooms. The park looks great. Of course, we can't see anything for any distance because it's a forest. There's tons of trees. It's a beautiful day!

The marathoners took off about 10 minutes before the half-crowd, so I didn't get to share the experience with spouse, sadly... I missed the moment where I might have reached over to him and grabbed him firmly by the ear, and twisted. When the half started, I seeded myself sort of mid- to back-of-the-pack (or so I thought), and ran easy. I wasn't sure where the elevation would kick in, so I wanted to go conservatively until I could get my feet under me, and maybe even just cruise the first loop. We're less than a mile in when the gently uphill course takes a sharper turn toward the sky. 'huh' I think to myself, 'I guess they get that 500 feet of climbing out of the way in the first mile,' and I keep running.

Somewhere around mile 2, I am starting to realize that the upward terrain isn't abating at all, and I'm also starting to get passed. A lot.

I started losing track of miles pretty early on, because the GPS lost its positioning brain in the trees. I don't know how far in I was before I started to figure out that the '500 feet' estimate was totally bogus. And somewhere in the first loop I started hating everyone. I was especially hating the chirpy talky people behind me who wouldn't just pass - it seemed like they would chat and chat and chat - and THEN pass. This was a race that excluded iPods, so I got to hear lots of chatter in my peaceful little trot through the woods.

FYI, hate seems to prefer quiet.

Why the hate? It's fairly out of character for me to get so grumpy during a run, I was actually feeling guilty for being grumpy - after all, they didn't know they were annoying the piss out of me. There was something about the chatter, combined with the deceptive spouse and surprise terrain combined with the unexpected heat (it started out pleasant and warm but I didn't know it was gonna be like that) that made for a Very. Cranky. Pirate.

Or it could have been PMS. I'm not ruling it out.

I didn't have a totally miserable race. Once it got quiet (and it was really quiet out there) and I was running on my own, the love returned. It was beautiful. And peaceful. And eventually there was downhill...until I ran out of fluid. Yes, I carried a whole camelback and I ran it out. Perhaps that's part of the reason I was feeling the hate?

So I'm running the second loop and I pick up a companion. We were running at roughly the same pace, and she says to me, 'you run like a mountain goat,' so I decide to keep her. Forever. Because I liked her.

We're trotting along, keeping a good pace, and helping each other through the stream crossings. Yes, stream crossings! How awesome is that? It's hard to stay angry at a race with streams, and stones to perch on, and all those big trees. I was a little mean, though, I made her do a lot of talking.

She tells me she's training for a marathon or two this year (and she had some good ones lined up), I say oh that's cool! Good for you! She asks what I'm doing, I say I do a lot of cross training, I do some triathlon. I tried to avoid tripping on a rock as she says (I shit you not),

"Oh triathlon. That's like seeing who's best at exercising. Heh. I heard that on this new show I saw on HBO. It's so funny..."

EVERYBODY evidently thinks that line is funny.

Anyway. Really, she was nice, and I kept her for a long time - we parted ways in the last mile when the terrain finally went back downhill and my legs felt better.

Finish time: 2:32. I thought that was a pretty decent time for me, considering the actual course terrain (2500 feet of climbing -- not the alleged 500 feet). The finish results show that it was a very strong female field (a woman came in first in the marathon) and I was an ego bruising 15th out of 19 in my age group. I confess that 3 days later my legs were still sore. Profuse use of ice on the quads has helped immensely.

Spouse, however, killed it. Of course. He walks into it with low training volume, a nagging injury, totally unprepared for the course. Carrying two bags of sport beans and a hand-teen, he finished in 4:17 - 3rd Male. Of course.

You see what I have to live with?

He made it up to me in St. Helena, where he bought me lunch. I ate my weight in sweet potato fries and pesto chicken sandwich. And drank a giant fizzy calistoga water.

The show, by the way, is called "East Bound and Down,' and it is pretty funny.