Reflections on the R.A.C.

Last fall, our weekly running group, the Run Around Club (R.A.C.), hit its double digits. The task of keeping this group going, literally and metaphorically, has largely fallen to Jason and me for most of its years. Given that and the 1,800-2,000 miles the organization has spanned, a decade seemed something worth celebrating… I think you can sense where this is going.

the R.A.C.
I have so many memories of smacking asphalt with these folks.

The formation of the R.A.C. back in September of 2011 resulted from a conversation we had with friends and family members at a party about sustaining exercise motivation. The company concluded that weekly runs together might provide enough positive peer pressure and enjoyment for healthy habits to be developed and kept. After that discussion, the R.A.C. came into being with the idea that we’d take turns organizing these weekly runs to spread the responsibility amongst us. However, over time, most in our group became less eager to take on their share of the coordinating. The ball others dropped, I picked up and continued playing with though. At one point, I realized Jason and I were the only ones keeping the R.A.C. operational, and my frustration almost led me to throw in the sweaty towel. Instead, after some internal debate, I consciously accepted the duty and took full ownership of the R.A.C. along with Jason.

Ready, set, run!
The kids exhibited a wide range of race enthusiasm from comatose to pee your pants.

Why was I willing to do that? The makeup of the R.A.C. has shifted over its decade, but the essence of it has remained. The encouragement, the comradery, the giggles, the thoughtful and ridiculous conversations, and the friendships and confidence built over many miles have all endured. Whether it be laps at the rec center during winter’s dreariest months or our annual dash up the mountain to Stewart Falls, the R.A.C. connects, inspires, and strengthens. Over the last ten years, I’ve seen multiple members go from their couches to running their first half marathons and believing in their capabilities. That’s why I decided it was worth utilizing some of my planning mojo to insure the R.A.C. lived on.

We are the champions!
And the winners are…

As with the regular undertakings of the R.A.C., arranging its anniversary celebration fell to Jason and me. (Okay, mostly me.) With the help of an illustrator, I created custom t-shirts for attendees made of fabric soft enough for my picky standards. We rented a pavilion at one of our regular running spots and ordered catering from Café Rio. After dinner, we held a one-mile kids race with prizes for first place in both pre-adolescent and teenage categories. I also made a 10-minute video of the R.A.C. throughout its years using pictures and clips taken on our hundreds of runs. Aah… is anything sweeter than a sweaty memory lane?

I’m grateful for my running buddies, the beautiful trails we’ve traversed, the habits we’ve fostered, the conversations we’ve had, and the muscles we’ve earned. May the pavement be ever at your feet and your friends ever alongside you.

From Set to Crack

Running can’t replace sleep. It’s not an equivalent exchange. Jason and I tested that law again last fall on the Bonneville Salt Flats while partaking in the Dusk to Dawn Relay. Yup, they still can’t be swapped. How was our second experience the same and different from our first Salt Flats all-nighter?

Squad camp
Cots, full coolers, lounge chairs, and snacks galore- what a luxurious encampment!

Jason and I were more ambitious with our team size this time. Signing up for a six-person team rather than an eight-person meant a greater commitment to laps. Others seemed less committed though, and we didn’t have a full crew for our Na Squad until six weeks before the race. We eventually attracted an incongruous but genial assortment of teammates ranging from teenagers to senior citizens and from ramblers to sprinting veterans. Other crews may have come upon their participants easier for the number of total runners appeared to have doubled from the race’s inaugural year.

Bonneville Salt Flats
The Bonneville Salt Flats are 12 miles long and five miles wide.
No such surplus!
Unnecessary jumping is the perfect way to waste energy before pulling an all-nighter.

The race loop was exactly two miles long this time. Between 8:04 p.m. and 7:06 a.m., the duration of the event, Jason and I both ran six laps. The total miles of our associates varied from eight to fourteen. One of our teenage teammates simultaneously “pulled a muscle” and “got a blister” in the middle of the night making him unable to circle further. Yeah, basically he didn’t want to run anymore. I was certainly not our fastest runner, but I was unfailingly consistent with no “pulled muscles.” I completed all but one of my laps between 19 and 21 minutes.

our squad at sunset
Thanks Stacey Marble for the cool silhouette shot.

Our team again broke up responsibility for chunks of the night to pairs, so sleep was still technically feasible, at least on a small-scale. For the second time, Jason and I took the slot no one wanted, which was the two-hour block between 3:00 and 5:00 a.m. All our teammates snoozed during these hours. We didn’t mind the quiet until we tried to wake up a replacement at the end of our window. No one was particularly interested, and it took a lot of effort to get our next looper in place.

the dusk dash
As its name suggests, Dusk to Dawn starts promptly at sunset.

How did our team do? We placed 3rd amongst the six-person teams, but there were only four of those. Out of the 15 total teams in all three divisions, we came in 7th. Robust averageness? That’s what we are all about baby! We finished five laps behind our division winners. During our first attempt of this relay, our eight-person team completed 59.85 miles. We were hoping to beat that number in 2021. With 64 miles, we did it!

the handoff
Speeds varied considerably amongst out teammates, but we always had someone at the start line ready to continue our forward momentum.

How was the setting? Besides the company with you, the spaces above you are the best thing about this race. Again, we saw Saturn and Jupiter and a million glimmering jabs. The moon was an enflamed sliver that appeared just an hour or so before sunrise. The sunrise itself was a bit disappointing, far from the vibrant, multicolored marvel we witness on our first Dusk to Dawn. Perhaps this was the doing of the pervasive wildfire smoke, or perhaps we just lucked out last time with a rise above standard.

done grinning
That’s a smile of success or at least of completion. Thanks Stacey Marble.

Just how flat were the Bonneville Salt Flats? The salt was more compact this time, less like a Slurpee and more like packed dirt. That meant the difference between salt making its way inexplicably into every cranny and it remaining mostly where it should. It was colder on this occasion. At two points in the night, I got so chilled my body decided it was quitting the warmth game. Thanks to blankets, three jackets, and intermittent running I survived anyway.

The Na Squad
No sleep and all salt makes Jack a brisk boy.

There is something magical about running by yourself on a curious bleached plain with only the crunch of your tennis shoes against the salt to interrupt your contemplation of the innumerable flickering stars webbing the blackness above you. That stillness is only heightened by its contrast to the lively sounds surrounding the start line. Not everyone in our group immediately praised the enchanting perks of this relay though. One of the teenagers complained that we had misrepresented this race to him. Apparently, he didn’t think it would involve so much running. Hmm… what else might be the primary focus of an 11-hour race? Jason and I expected a lot of laughs, a lot of salt, a lot of steps, and not a whole lot of sleep. Our expectations became reality; that was an equivalent exchange.

San sans Harry Potter Part II

With Muir Woods National Monument just half an hour outside of San Francisco, it was amongst our top priorities on this trip. It became our focus the following day when the weather report showed a big sun instead of a little sun in the forecast.

Redwoods are the longest living things on the planet and can survive for over a thousand years. The redwood groves protected by Muir Woods are humbling and awing, but the trail system that forms a tangled web through the heart of them is fairly confusing. We hiked four miles at the monument. On one trail? No, six. To loop back to our starting place, we did sections of Bootjack Spur, Camp Eastwood, Lost, Fern Creek, Canopy, and Redwood Creek. If you want to get off the main trail in Muir Woods, make sure you download or take a picture of the map. Without a map, it’s almost guaranteed you’ll end up on some wrong path. It seemed many of the perplexed trekkers we passed had done just that.

Muir Woods
Coast redwoods, one of three surviving redwood species, are the tallest living things on the planet. Some in the Muir Woods reach up to 23 stories.

Please note, Muir Woods requires parking reservations, and those reservations have arrival times. We went in the middle of the week and made our reservation three days in advance. At that point, the slots between 10:00 a.m. and noon were already sold out. Visitor limits mean you can actually experience nature in nature, but they also mean you must plan ahead.

Lost or Fern Creek?
Getting lost in Muir Woods is practically a certainty if you don’t bring a trail map.

Since Muir Woods closes at 6:00 p.m. for unknown reasons, we decided to take a detour on the way back and use a little more of the available light. We ended up utilizing almost every minute of it. We went to Muir Beach in Golden Gate National Recreation Area on a whim and began a trek along the Marin Headlands to Pirates Cove, a forgotten pocket of beach snuggled against a toothy span of rocks. In total, we hiked 3.6 miles across chaparral-covered hills which plummeted to a sharpened shoreline in silence punctuated only by the haunting warning notes of nearby buoys. The vastness of the Pacific Ocean flooded out below us uninterrupted by the horizon. This trail was supposed to be heavily trafficked, but we only came across a few walkers. We were shocked such isolated beauty could exist so close to a bay populated by nearly eight million people.

Marin Headlands
The Marin Headlands are part of a coastal prairie ecosystem; 24% of this ecosystem has been paved over.

In case you are curious, according to legends, Pirates Cove was actually used by pirates. Bootleggers in the 1920s reportedly utilized its cover for their spirited smuggling. Can I confirm these accounts are more than myths? Nope.

coats and coves
Even though it was July, we wore at least three coat layers throughout our stay.
Pirates Cove
I’m still giggling about this sign.

Our last day in San Francisco also happened to be Jason’s birthday. In our original plan, we were supposed to see Harry Potter that day. Instead, we started out with a walking tour of Chinatown. The tour was a great introduction to the history of the area and its current residents. We learned about ancestor worship, tried salted egg potato chips, ate Golden Gate Fortune Cookie Factory cookies, and discovered a bit about traditional Chinese medicine. By the way, fortune cookies aren’t Chinese at all but were the creation of a Japanese American. Also, fresh off the griddle they taste mighty good.

Chinatown
San Francisco’s Chinatown is as iconic as the Golden Gate Bridge. Perhaps that’s why it draws more tourists than the latter.

After wandering around Chinatown and eating some dim sum for lunch, we headed to the Musee Mecanique. The Musee Mecanique is a coin-operated arcade dedicated to antique, automated machines. Its collection of over 300 devices includes music boxes, photo booths, peep shows, pinball machines, videogames, and player pianos. Some of these apparatuses are rare finds that date back over a century.

Laffing Sal
This Laffing Sal was one of 500 produced in the 1920s and 1930s to draw people to funhouses. She has been an icon of the Musee Mecanique for many years.

And that’s how our trip ended, with player pianos belting out a grand finale to our coastal escapades.

Beyond the cancellation of the musical, how did COVID-19 impact our vacation? We were forced to change our plans frequently due to lingering closures. That led to some chaos and some of my favorite parts of this outing. We lamented that we weren’t going just a couple weeks later since full openings were expected as companies rehired employees and COVID concerns waned. Unfortunately, what started out as a hopeful summer we expected to fill with everything we’d missed for 15 months turned into agonizing deja vu as the Delta variant gained momentum. In the weeks after our visit, San Francisco moved toward more closures, not less. Instead of being the trip that was a little too early, it was a tiny island of near normalcy breaking the long span of continuing pandemic.

Matador
We sampled fantastic fare and cute parklets at some of San Francisco’s highly rated restaurants with minimal waits and little or no reservations.

San Francisco was full of paradoxes on this visit. Little parklets, street-side additions built to allow for safer dining space, were everywhere. They illustrated the city’s resilience and adaptability, but the many established and loved places that were boarded up spoke to its fragility. San Francisco had struggled over the last 15 months and was trying to resuscitate itself. Regrettably, it was clear from the lack of hustle on the streets that the area was still getting only a fraction of its typical 25 million visitors, and any adaptations would be somewhat futile amidst the ongoing spreadable threat.