Santa Cruz 21k race report, or The Day Trail Running Became a Team Sport.

Normally after a race I can't wait for the race results to be posted online. At this point I'd just be happy with an explanation of what the heck just happened. Also, I want my money back.

We drove to Santa Cruz on Saturday to spend the night since it was a good 2 hour drive, and I had come down with a cold in a bad way. Fever, runny nose, all of that stuff. I managed a half day at work and we hit the road. All I wanted to do was sleep. So that's what I did. In the car and in the room...later on we ventured out for dinner.

We found a great Irish Pub in downtown Santa Cruz. Rosie McCann's.

Red wine kills cold germs, right?

And Ghirardelli chocolate cake with vanilla bean ice cream definitely kills cold germs. 

Back at the room I checked my email, where I found the usual day before the race email from PCTR linking to race day instructions. The 29 and 50k were taking off at 8:30 and the 21k at 8:40. Bib pickup ended at 8:15. (I was going to also link here to the official entrants list that was on the website but at this point it's been taken down). I took some medicine, set my alarms, and I was knocked out before 9pm.


Race morning went as planned; we were up and out the door on time no problem. We got to the park about 7:45 and I was about to head in the direction everybody else was walking to check in and pick up my bib when I heard somebody say, "oh they're just now setting up the tent". I thought that was a little late to be setting up the tent, but figured that would buy me some time to get my gear together and go to the bathroom.

About 15 minutes later I headed on up and saw this:

Everybody just kinda "hanging out". The only tent I saw was the La Sportiva tent.

Nothing going on, nothing even looking like anybody was there to put on a race. No boxes of bibs, no tshirts, no start/finish area. It was a little strange, so I walked back down to the car. I went to the bathroom, and on the way out asked somebody if they had started giving out bibs yet. No one was.

We both walked up into the crowd to figure out what was going on. You could hear bits and pieces of conversations...some confused, some angry (F This! I'm Leaving!), some just still hanging out. At about 8:30 it was clear we were on our own, so a girl stood on a table and announced a group was going to just go for it.

So now it was decision time. 10-12 people took off. Then a few more...and then some more. I froze.

I don't know these trails! They're probably all faster than me and I'll have no clue where I am! I don't have a map. Well...I know I have plenty of water and enough Gu and Salt tabs plus my phone to get me through. But my phone probably won't even work in the mountains. This would be a bad idea to try to do 13 miles on an unmarked course. I'll probably get lost and end up on that I shouldn't be alive show. But I came to run today. I didn't back out because I was sick and I'm not going to back out because the race directors didn't show. People are going. I'm going too.

Here's what it looked like...

What you see is people huddled around a posted map at the trail head on the left. The 21k is an out and back course...but it's not a straight shot, there are turns, curves, plenty of intersections and the elevation looked like this:

As I eased my way over, I found four ladies starting, so I stuck with them and took off.

Just about a mile in, on the uphill I left them. The first video above is actually after I started, so as more and more people started coming up I went with them. After the first couple uphill miles it starts to roll and is more manageable...then it's all downhill to the river. I was running with a few others. At every trail intersection someone would either be there to tell me which way to go, or I would wait for the next runner who knew. There was no competition or racing, we were all out there in the unknown, hoping the next runner to crest the hill would say "I've run this lots of times before, turn this way".

I relied a lot on green shirt 100% Silk guy to know the way. 

Because I saw a lot of signs that looked like this:

This means nothing to me.

Eventually we got down to the San Lorenzo River, and to my surprise, everyone was sitting down taking off their shoes. I had planned to plow through but quickly changed my mind. We were only about 4 miles in. No need to add pounds of weight to my feet for the next 5 or 6 miles until we come back to the river crossing right? I took my shoes off.

This is my first trip across the river. 

After the river was the big uphill. I was still leap frogging with some of the same people I'd been running with, and eventually a few miles later we hit the "general" turnaround point. A guy there who was signed up for the 50k offered us all the Gu he had because he was done running and had arranged someone to pick him up there. The people I had been with paused to use the facilities and get water so I took off down the trail alone, again, with a dangerous feeling that I might end up on I shouldn't be alive. It wasn't very long, though, that I found myself in the company of a few others. The return trip proved to be a little more difficult to decipher, so I was glad I had company.

Then at last, back to the river! This time the river rock was a little more difficult to navigate since the first crossing had washed all the tape off my feet, and I was growing some nice blisters on the ends of my toes and the bottoms of my feet. Plus the little bit of current was enough to throw me off balance a couple times. Also it was raining a little bit...beautiful!

Entering the water, how great to get an ice bath twice during a trail run!

View from the middle of the crossing. Can you tell this was my favorite part EVER?

So knowing I had only about an hour to run after crossing back over the river, I did my usual I'm almost done adrenaline push. Too early, as usual. But I was so happy!
Just up from the river crossing were these beautiful train tracks.

My second favorite part. 

On the way back there were a few then a couple, then just one girl and we stuck together. At intersections she stopped or I stopped to figure out which way to go. 

Eventually I pulled ahead alone toward the end where I recognized. I came to an intersection and stopped, a fastie came up behind me and I asked her which way...she followed behind me and started conversation then moved around me and told me the next ways to turn up ahead. And after she hit the turn ahead of me and was running below, she looked up and yelled, "it's a hard left!" How amazingly nice is that. 

I finished. I looked to my right and saw maybe 15 random runners or waiting for runners people hanging out at the picnic tables. I stopped my watch and seriously one guy sitting on a table made eye contact with me and CLAP...CLAP....CLAPPED for me. It was beautiful. 

So that's the story. A bunch of people showed up for a race that didn't happen. Instead, a bunch of people went out and ran in the Santa Cruz mountains. We might be upset there were no course markings or aid stations or t shirts or finish times...but today we were out there to do what we love, run a trail, and we did. And we helped each other through. 

what more could you ask for?


****UPDATE****
At about 4:40pm Monday (the day after the run) PCTR finally issued a statement via Facebook:

We are sorry to announce that we need to cancel the upcoming event this weekend, October 2nd in Montana de Oro, and the event in Redwood Park on October 15th, due to unexpected health issues. Of course, all registration fees will be fully refunded, as will all fees for the One Day and Santa Cruz. We know that you have relied upon PCTR for years for quality events, and we want to ensure that we continue to deliver what you expect. This will allow us a short bit of time to regroup and ensure that all future events go on as planned. Thank you all very much for your kind words of support and for your understanding.

Thoughts?