Beach to Bay

I ran in my first marathon yesterday. Sort of.

Saturday was the Beach to Bay Relay Marathon, where teams of six runners complete a 26.2 mile course in 4 mile sections. The course goes from the beach on North Padre Island, across the causeway bridge to the mainland, through the naval base and up Ocean Drive to the Corpus Christi bayfront. I had the third leg. The leg nobody really wants to do. The bridge leg.

I totally conquered that bridge. Let's recap:

I was very apprehensive at first. I was a late addition to the team (one of about 5 teams from the Caller-Times), and I didn't expect to get much of a say in which leg I would run. I really didn't want the third leg, but as the date came closer I kept thinking how cool it would be run across the bridge. I lived on Padre Island for the first five or so months I lived in Corpus Christi, and I always looked forward to crossing that bridge. It was my time to focus, relax and take in the sights on the bay. It only lasted about 3 and a half minutes, but it was often my favorite part of the day. Why wouldn't I want to run across it?

Race day finally came and I was nervous. I was unsure how I was going to react to the incline of the bridge. My running has been fairly regular the last month, and I got a pretty good 4 mile run in Wednesday, making sure to include some steep hills into my route. I'm pretty bad with hills, and I was worried this would be the Capitol 10K all over again.

The logistics of the race also worried me. Even though I wouldn't run until about 8:30 a.m., I had to be up by 5:30 a.m. to make sure I at the parking lot in time to catch my shuttle.

With 1,705 teams, that meant 1,705 people at each hand off spot. At about 6:30 I boarded a packed bus that took us right across the bridge we would have to run over. The ride only added to the nerves and anticipation.

The hand off spot was slightly chaotic for a while, and it seemed like no one was in charge. Exactly how and where this hand off would occur was a bit of a mystery until some race volunteers finally started getting things in order. The good news was the weather was fantastic. Cloudy and cool, the high for the day would only be about 82.

Obviously I brought my camera along with me. I knew I would have a little down time, and I really wanted to play with the awesome new Nikon D300 I bought a couple weeks ago.

My plan was to bring the camera with me, and get some pre-race and early hand-off photos. When my teammate arrived to hand me the relay baton, I would hand her my camera bag and run my leg. This was on top of our team's pre-race hand off plan. All of us had our cell phones with us, and we were all suppose to call the person two legs ahead of us once we completed our race. So when the first guy finished the first leg, we would call me and let me know the second leg runner had started. That's when I would put away the camera and start my stretching and 'other' final preparations for the race.

The plan was flawless, so of course it failed miserably.

The race started at 7 a.m. When I didn't get a call by 8 a.m. I started getting worried. The first three legs are all 4.37 miles long, and I was told our first leg guy was the best on the team. Surely he would be done by now. I tried calling the second leg runner, Allison, but it turned out the number I had for her was not her cell phone, but her office number. Balls. I don't know why I didn't just call the first leg guy, Thomas. I'm sure at the time I had a good reason, something about not wanting to call if he was still actually running or trying to catch his breathe of something. He'll call eventually, I thought. Give him a few minutes to recoup, get some water, whatever, he'll call.

Meanwhile, I started in on the 'other' pre-race preparations and got into the bathroom line. A lot of third leggers had already taken off by this point. The lines were still long, but not as bad as earlier. I was literally next in line when my cell phone started ringing. The conversation went something like this:

"Michael, where are you?" a female voice huffed and puffed. It was Allison. I freaked out.

"Are you here already?" I asked, panicked and praying she would say she just started her leg and that Thomas was mute and without the use of his thumbs.

"Yes, where are you!" Oh my dear lord. Not only did I really have to pee, but I hadn't done any stretching or warm up at all. She continued, "I'm in the chute, I'll come to you, where are you at?"

In the bathroom.

"No I'll come to you!" I said. "Meet me at the front of the chute. I'll head that way." The port-o-potty door opened, I dashed in and out and made me way to the exchange area.

It was packed, people were lined up all around the chute with runners going in and out. Several had batons in the air screaming for their teammate. It was madness. I tried calling her back, but there was no answer. Get back, one volunteer barked as I entered the chute on my phone. I'm looking for my teammate, I barked back. I called again and again getting only voice mail until I finally spotted her.

"Michael Zamora!" she was screaming into the air, scanning the faces in the crowd and looking exhausted and frustrated. I hung up the phone, bumped into a runner, and ran over to her.

"Give me your camera, have a good run!" And with that, I was on my way.


I couldn't find any specifics, but the JFK causeway bridge is about 3 and half miles long. The first part rises high above the water before coming back down, leveling out to about 9 feet above the water for the remainder of the bridge.

Despite my lack of warm up, I felt good. The nerves faded and the chaotic excitement of the hand off was pushing me forward. I made my way around the exit ramp and up the bridge. I definitely felt the incline, but it was gradual and didn't feel as steep as I expected. Maybe I was just more prepared then I thought. I kind of wish I had a camera with me, but it wouldn't have really mattered. No picture could do justice to the experience. As the ground got further and further away and the music swelled on my mp3 player, I couldn't think of any other place or any other thing I'd rather be doing. I smiled like an idiot, head turning left and right to look over the bridge until I finally reached the peak.

"Its all down hill from here!" yelled a runner from her car as she drove past in the one open lane. She was right. Before the race, I was worried about how climbing the bridge would affect the rest of my run. I told myself not to get frustrated if you have to stop and walk at some point in the 4.37 mile route. But when I got to the peak and realized the hard part was over, I knew there was no stopping me.

Me (at right), with relay team member Allison (second from left), and Caller-Times
employees Tom (right), Holly (center) and Libby, who all ran on other teams.

In the end, I finished my 4.37 mile leg in about 45 minutes. Setting my stop watch was obviously not a priority at the exchange, so I based my time on my cell phone. My last call to Allison was at 8:28 a.m., and my first call right after I made the exchange was at 9:14 a.m. That call also came after a brief post-race celebration. I was so excited when I was done. I had a fun little pop song blaring in my ears, and I just needed to dance. So I did, which I'm sure horrified the other runners. I'm surprised a medic wasn't called in to help the runner having seizures. Good times.

OFFICIAL BEACH TO BAY RESULTS:
Team: Better Off Deadline
Chip time: 4:37:10.80
Place: 1099 (out of 1,705)

By the way, the bridge has its own theme music. This song came on randomly in my car one day and seemed to fit, so now I play it every time I cross the bridge. For months I heard it at least twice a day as I went to and from work. It only seemed fitting I run to it across the bridge. For the first mile (including the bridge peak) this is what I was listening to. Its an instrumental track from Sufjan Stevens. I always referred to it as "Out of Egypt," but I looked up the full name and found it to be quite appropriate


Out Of Egypt, Into The Great Laugh Of Mankind, And I Shake The Dirt From My Sandals As I Run.mp3