It's been a couple of days since I participated in the Big Sur Marathon. It was pretty much all that I had hoped for. It was as challenging as advertised in terms of constant hills, including six or seven that can try the hardiest souls. But I trained for that and my only concern was that my surgically fixed left knee and chronically troublesome right knee would hold out for 26.2 miles, which they did. But the story of Big Sur is the course, which includes some of the most magnificent scenery I have witnessed in my 60 years.
In many ways I've led a fairly provincial experience, being New Jersey born and bred, and outside of a three-day trip to California 30 years ago, frequent flights to see relatives in Tampa, and short visits to Italy, England, and Paris, I am not much traveled. So nothing prepared me for the jaw-dropping beauty of Big Sur--of breathtaking cliffs and crashing waves, and twisted tree limbs, and looming mountains reaching to the sky at my feet.
There is a famous shot at the Bixby Bridge, a miraculous construction that spans a canyon at the half-marathon point, where situated is a grand piano played by a virtuoso in tux and tails, with its amplified sound echoing in the canyons of Big Sur that moved me almost to tears.
My spirits were so lifted by the majesty of of the course that I maintained an amazing energy level and didn't really bonk until I reached the Highlands of Carmel around Mile 22, just before two more monster hills at Miles 23 and 25. Sure, I ran a strategically sound race, running about a minute per mile slower than my customary marathon pace, fueling appropriately, and invoking a sound hill running technique.
Still, I credit the wonder of the most beautiful course for helping me hold up through it all. It was my slowest marathon, and by far the most challenging, and one that I will never forget. If you're thinking of running Big Sur, by all means do so. Just remember to throw the watch away and just enjoy the experience.
AND TRAIN ON HILLS!!!!
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