WOW, what an experience! My first race outside the zone and I live to tell about it. A great day, spent with family and friends! So many highlights it is hard to remember them all, heck, I barely remember the race – it was like a blur or was that just the sand in my eyes?
Welcome to the Sol y Arena race in Puntarenas! Celebrating its 25th anniversary with sand, sun, and more than 7000 runners!
We left a sunny and dry day in the mountains and piled into the minivan that we all chipped in for so we could travel in comfort and not have to worry about parking…a great idea. I think (at one point during the day, there were 18 of us in the van). Lots of jokes and stories during our two hour ride down the mountain with 80’s music blaring from the radio. Everyone from Michael Jackson, Men at Work to Flock of Seagulls…some of us sang at the top of lungs while others reviewed our strategy for the race.
We arrived in Puntarenas about noon; I was indeed happy to see the clouds and the waves, sure bet that there was a breeze and the sun would not be a factor. I was thankful for any advantage the weather would bring. The beachfront was packed with vendors selling souvenirs, fruit, sunglasses, hats and of course ice cream and snow cones.
We (Raul, Edward and I) scouted out a restaurant to eat a light lunch before heading up to the start of the race. The streets and the restaurants were filled with racers getting ready. I delighted in watching everyone ‘suit-up’, some rubbing Vaseline on their legs while others applied (what smelled like, BenGay or Vicks Vapor Rub) on their skin. I was just happy to get my mole-skin applied to the blister on my foot that I had been nursing from my rain boots and a cut on my right foot after slipping on the trail as I was coming down from last Wednesday’s tree sit for the Canopy Campaign. Oh, and then, let’s not forget the inflamed right ankle I’ve been dealing with since last Monday night (complements of nasty horse flies that pack a real punch to their bite) They apparently nibbled away my ankle and left it inflamed and red.
I tried to select the healthiest meal on the menu, a piece of baked chicken and a couple of sips of John’s peach smoothie. We said our goodbyes to our ‘cheerleaders’ and haled a taxi to take us back up the beach to the start of the race, 10K away.
Okay, here is how the demographics play out...I'm 46, Raul is 27 and kid brother, Edward at a mere 15 years of age! Three very distinct age groups represented. Not so sure I liked being the eldest in the group, let's just say....the wisest!
It was 2 p.m. and the race did not start for another two hours. "What on earth were we going to do for two hours?", I thought to myself! As we crowded into the taxi, it was then that Raul said, “Oh, I think the race is actually 12K, not 10K”! “Great, thanks for that tidbit of info”, I snapped back jokingly, growing more excited as we neared the start. Racers were milling around, I hung out near the bathrooms, as my bladder was showing signs of nervousness (I’ll spare you the details) ☺
Finally, we found a spot and started to warm up and stretch out. As I was warming up, I found myself sizing up the competition and was amazed at all sizes and shapes of runners; old, young, thin, pleasantly plump – it was a smorgasbord!
Finally at 3:10 p.m., we took our spot at the start line, Raul wanted to get out in the first pack, so we were all at the front of the line – frankly I just wanted to keep upright and was feeling uneasy about being at the beginning of the pack with 7000 racers behind me. 45 minutes of being crunched in a pack waiting for the start of the race – I was becoming nauseous as all the smells started to come together – sweat, body odor, BenGay! Finally, with the two-minute warning, I got a glimpse of the TV cameras overhead and the helicopters circling the beach. The start came with some pushing and jockeying for position; I quickly ran to the side and let the competitors wiz by, not wanting to be the cause of a major pile-up. Low tide had left the beach sand nice and firm – I found my stride and just kept my eyes focused down the beach. I was thankful for the water stations and other kind runners who handed me bags of water along the way. I felt great and plugged along at a good pace. 50 minutes into the race, I saw the end and could not believe that I was approaching the finish line already. As we approached, we ran under a pier and were thankful for the spectators manned with hoses, spraying full blast…so refreshing and so thankful for a quick shower. With a few 100 meters to go, a gal who had been at my side the final three kilometers, grabbed my hand and we crossed the finish line together. The last minute or so was grueling as we headed into the dryer, heavier sand. I was oblivious to all the hollering and screaming and did not even hear the boys yelling from the sidelines! Talk about a novice racer – I forgot to stop my watch and it wasn’t until I asked Carla (the gal I finished with) how we did. She smiled and said, “56 minutos”! The best I’ve done here on the mountain is 1 hour 1 minute for a 10K, so I was happy with my placement. I quickly found the food/water station at the end and hydrated myself as I scanned the crowd for family and friends. I was completely soaked and covered in sand – so happy! I was greeted by Raul who had finished the race in 42 minutes and was ecstatic as he shared his experience with me, saying that he kept sight of the leaders the entire time. Edward crossed the finish line in about 1 hour 2 minutes, as he suffered from cramps at the midway mark and had to walk a while to work through his pain.
I finally found the boys and Mike who had spent two hours playing in the sand and surf – I think Mike was relieved to see me breathing and upright as he knew my training had been interrupted by (what I refer to as...) ‘the massacre of the mango’.
After an hour or so, we piled back into the van and headed for home. The boys were out in about 15 minutes and all was well until we hit Gaucimal where the clutch on Alex’s (our driver’s) van went haywire as we lost a screw that kept things working. Luckily, Raul’s brother-in-law contacted a friend of a friend who lived on the main road we were travelling and met us out on the road with an assortment of screws to try. Everyone piled out of the van; (some headed for the bullfight in the town stadium), which was just 100 yards down the road to get a cold one, while others relaxed on the road side, listenening to the cows serenade. No stress or panic; by anyone – just part of travelling here in Costa Rica. Tranquila! One of the screws fit the bill and onward we went. We were all tired when we arrived back in San Luis, but with big smiles on our faces as we recalled the day’s festivities.
My fondest memory of the day was not centered around my personal satisfaction of finishing or even seeing Raul and Edward finish, rather it was the sharing of the experience with my family and friends and seeing how proud Raul and Edward were as they pinned a picture, with a dedication of the race to their father, on the backs of their shirts. Their father had died unexpectedly 10 years ago in an accident. It was one of the most poignant moments as I spied Raul taking the laminated sheets out of his backpack and sharing with me that his father would be watching them race from above. Amen to that!
I barely remember my run; it seemed to happen in a blink of an eye. I’m wondering if that is normal – one minute, I am at the start line and the next, I am holding a stranger’s hand running toward the finish.
Peace,
Signed: S
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