My First Los Angeles
Race Experience
by David Pepper
by David Pepper
[Editor's note: Dave Pepper
is currently teaching at the Univ. of Southern Calif. and was a
long-time CSR member who commonly challenged for top honors in many of
the BR races]
The race was described as a challenging 7.8-mile trail run in Griffith Park with a turnaround at the top of Mt. Hollywood.
It boasted scenic views of the Hollywood sign, Griffith Park Observatory, and a panoramic view of downtown Los Angeles.
It offered prize money.
And last year’s times didn’t seem particularly fast.
A chance to relive my college cross-country days, see the sights, and possibly get paid for it? I couldn’t pass it up.
Race morning was cool and crisp, and I set out more than two hours before the start since I live quite a distance away and I assumed I’d get lost getting there. Apparently, I should have planned for getting lost twice (the actual figure), because it was 30 minutes until starting time when I finally reached the correct park gate. This would have been OK, except that I was soon stuck in a mile-long line of cars waiting to park. Eventually, I did reach the parking areas, which were full, and joined the numerous other drivers trying to improvise on places to abandon our vehicles. After nearly becoming stuck attempting to jump a curb to park on the grass, I finally parked illegally, made a desperately needed dash to the porto-lets, picked up my race number, and sprinted to the starting line just in time to pin the number to my shorts.
The race began with a flat stretch, and I used that first seventy meters to my advantage by inserting myself into the lead pack. Then, we climbed. The slopes were gentle at first, but soon became precipitous, consisting of a series of "switchbacks" where I was reduced to an awkward shuffle. Apparently, I had failed to "break" anyone in the "flats" at the start, and the lead runners dropped me, while several others shuffled past. After what I estimated to be about 5k, my lungs were burning, my legs were rubbery, and I had a tight numbness in my upper body. It was at this point that I reached a sign that said "1.1 miles".
I shuffled on, eventually settling into an awkward, choppy, uphill gait and only occasionally lifting my head to look at the scenery, which was worth the effort. There were a few downhill stretches along the way, but I soon began to realize that these were simply brief delays in an agonizing journey that was not so much about moving forward, but upward. Eventually I knew I must be near the turnaround, and soon enough, the lead runners passed me on their way back down. They all looked like they were riding a roller coaster…hair-blown back and frightened eyes wide-open as they pounded downhill at a furious pace. I soon joined the downhill train and realized that it was not only frightening, but punishing, as I beat up my tired legs trying to go as fast as I could without toppling forward or running off the trail and tumbling down the edge of the mountain.
With my legs somewhat intact, I finally reached a flat section half a mile from the finish. Suddenly, I felt normal again. I felt great, in fact, but had little time in which to make up any ground. I crossed the finish in 54 minutes, or broken down, 35 minutes to the turnaround, and 19 minutes back. Good enough for 18th place, overall. Apparently, I had severely misjudged the effect the topography would have on my time. Nonetheless, the experience was well worth it.
One final remark…the post-race refreshments were extremely disappointing. I think the organizer should take note from race directors in Louisiana, where post-race parties are always done right.