2023 Marin Ultra Challenge (Round 1)

One of the fun parts of signing up for a longer race is scheduling shorter races to use as training runs leading up to the big event. Having pulled the trigger on registering for my first 100k, which would take place in early April, I immediately began working on my training plan. As I meticulously worked my way backwards from race day, penciling each long run into the Saturday column of my generic, printed calendar pages, I got a shock of excitement when I got to the 50k training run. It would take place in early March, which is actually a great time to run in Minnesota, but I wasn’t able to find a race that lined up quite right in my great state. So, I broadened my search to see what I could find.

I landed on the Marin Ultra Challenge in California, which starts at Rodeo Beach and traverses through the Marin Headlands, offering breathtaking views of the ocean, the Golden Gate Bridge, and massive valleys. The trails aren’t overly technical, but they do push runners up 6,000 feet of total elevation gain across many long, rolling hills. Having had the opportunity to run some of these trails during a previous girls weekend, I was excited to go back and enjoy an official race in the area.

Sometimes it doesn’t work out to travel as a team, and Elliot was very supportive in allowing me to embark on this adventure solo while he stayed home to manage the kids and dogs. Bless his heart. It also helped that I have a friend from high school who lives in the area and graciously offered me a bed in her home and a vehicle to use, making the trip much more affordable than it would have been otherwise. Everything felt like the perfect plan.

My flight was scheduled to land in the evening two days prior to the event, and I’d fly home the day after. I eagerly packed a small bag with the essentials for a long weekend and set off to the airport. I am the breed that likes to get to the airport two hours early to allow plenty of time for whatever might pop up. I like to have time to grab a coffee and leisurely wait to board. I don’t like feeling rushed. So I did just that, and settled in at a standing table to get some work done while I waited for boarding. Unbeknownst to me, San Fran was getting hit with some insane weather. They were experiencing a torrential downpour complemented by 50 mile per hour winds. This meant my flight was delayed, but I didn’t mind. I was thankful that the storm was getting out of the way now, before race day. I eagerly checked the weather forecast to see if it would clear up by Saturday, and it was looking good.

What was supposed to be an 8pm arrival turned into 9pm, and then 10pm, and then midnight. I was so glad I gave myself a cushion day before the race. Eventually, the passengers were shuffled onto the plane for departure. I wasn’t in my seat for more than five minutes when I pulled out my phone to check my email one last time before losing WiFi. And there it was, the subject line I was hoping I wouldn’t see. “POSTPONED - Marin Ultra Challenge - WEATHER UPDATE.” My heart sank as I opened the email. “We regret to inform you that due to the forecasted inclement weather, the park services will be closing the Marin Headlands and Muir Woods National Monument until the storm has passed. The park service will not be able to assess the trail conditions and safety until after the weekend, making it impossible for us to host the Marin Ultra Challenge this Saturday.”

Well, shit, I thought. I’m already on the plane, we’re about to take off, there’s no way I’m canceling the trip. It wasn’t just the race, I was also excited to see my old friend. I decided right then and there that I’d create my own 50k route and run it solo. I just hoped they weren’t keeping people out of the parks, and the trails were in runnable condition. I let the disappointment melt away, accepted my new reality, and did my best to get some rest on the flight.

When I arrived in San Fran, I was able to see firsthand what Mother Nature was up to. There was a massive crowd of people waiting indoors for their rides in a packed entryway as it was impossible to stand outside without getting blown over. Every time the door would open for someone to sneak out, the wind would come billowing in along with the rain that was seemingly being sprayed into the building by a giant firehose. And here I was about to trust a stranger to drive me through this madness for 42 miles to my friend’s house in Novato. Not ideal. It was now almost one o’clock in the morning Pacific Time, which means it felt like 3:00am to me, and I’m usually in bed by nine. I was exhausted, but there was nothing about that car ride that allowed me to relax in even the slightest capacity. I can’t count how many times we hydroplaned. I didn’t realize you could “white knuckle it” as a passenger. I have never felt as relieved as I did when we arrived safely to my friend’s house. She had left the door unlocked for me to sneak in. I think I fell asleep before my head hit the pillow.

When I awoke the next morning, I felt well rested even though I didn’t get as many hours as I’d have liked to. I was excited to be in a new state, ready to take on a new adventure. I had some work to do to map out 31+ miles of trails through unfamiliar terrain. I didn’t want to run the official race course as I wasn’t sure if any areas would be blocked off, and I was hopeful that I’d be back to run it on the date it was rescheduled for. I figured I’d might as well take the opportunity to see some trail that I wouldn’t have seen. So, I spent way too much time on Garmin Explore creating loops in various areas across the Marin Headlands. I landed on four separate routes that I would drive between. I’d start at Indian Valley for 6.6 miles, followed by Tennessee Valley for 8.5, then off to Gerbode Valley for 5.3, and finally, I’d end at Rodeo Beach and take the Coastal Trail to catch 10.5 miles. With a total of 30.9 miles, I could just tack a little on at the end if I came up short. With my plan in place, I took the rest of the day to relax, stretch, carb load, and prepare for an awesome day.

The nice thing about no longer racing is there was no pressure to start at any certain time. But I didn’t want to start too late either as I wanted to enjoy the evening with my friend. I decided on a 7:00am start, and made my way to Indian Valley to get the party started. I’ll be honest though, my heart was really not in it. And it bothered me. Here I was in some of the most beautiful forest that I had ever seen, on a trip that I was blessed to be able to take, and I simply didn’t want to. With the recent heavy rain, the waterfalls were in full force, creating the most peaceful ambience amongst the mossy trees all around me. It was truly a magical place, and I didn’t lose sight of that. But my legs felt sluggish, and the thought of running the entire 50k alone was weighing on me. I needed to get out of this funk!

As I continued along the course, I learned a huge lesson around programming routes into Garmin. I had mapped out this section of the course in a way where I would take the same trail multiple times, but in opposite directions. I don’t know if I misread the tiny arrows on my watch, or if it led me in the wrong direction, but I ended up taking multiple wrong turns and tacking on extra miles as I continued to confuse myself. I’d be running for half a mile or more before realizing I was going in the wrong direction. Then I’d have to decide if it was better to turn around or just adjust my route. There’s a reason my trail name is Extra Credit. That 6.6 mile section ended up being 9.86 miles. Now, you’d think this would have made my mood worse, but it actually gave me a huge mental boost. Hell, I was basically a third of the way done already when I was only supposed to be 6.6 miles in after this section! It reenergized me as I hopped in my friends jeep to find my way to the next trailhead. Tennessee Valley, here I come!

When I arrived at Tennessee Valley, the rain decided to make an appearance and the wind was picking up. It wasn’t anything like the night I arrived, but enough that I would need to get comfortable with being wet for the next couple of hours. This area was much more populated. I had only seen three people throughout the last section. Here there were a good number of cars parked in the lot with folks of all different ages preparing to hike, bike, or walk in the gloom of the day. Heck, people even had their kids and pets out there. Ok, I thought, suck it up buttercup. It’s time to get moving. I put on my rain jacket, cinched the hood on tight, and began the initial ascent up the trail.

The fog was thick and mysterious. It was as if there were giant blocks of dry ice scattered across the floor of the valley, making it impossible to see across to the other side. I loved the vibe. It was haunting and peaceful at the same time. Although the crowds were heavier at the start, as I progressed along the trail, I once again became a lone ranger. Just me and my thoughts strolling through the wind and water. The slow climbs challenged my hamstrings and I allowed my poles to aid in the effort. The downhills were the perfect grade to bomb down with swift confidence, giving my hamstrings a break and transitioning the work to my quads. Although there were puddles throughout the trail, they were easy to navigate and usually there was a dry path available to me. But my shoes were soaking wet from the rain anyway.

About three miles in, the trail meandered closer to the coastline and I made my way to an overlook of Muir Beach. I love the ocean about as much as I love the mountains. Its incomprehensible mass and power fill me with awe. I could watch and listen to the soul soothing rhythm of the waves for hours. I was glad we weren’t having beach weather, otherwise I would have been tempted to call it and just hang out there for the rest of the day. My heart and spirit were fully immersed in the experience now. Every turn I took revealed new beauty to behold. The light dirt trail fading into the distance as it hugged the sides of the peaks. The greenery glowing brightly against the contrasting gloom surrounding it. I felt like an explorer out there on my own, just enjoying the ride and staying curious. I found myself not wanting this segment to end. But, at about 8.75 miles, I was back to the vehicle and I needed to make my way to the next stop on my journey.

I was now 18.61 miles in and if I completed the next two legs that I had planned, I’d finish at 34.41 miles. This was also assuming I didn’t tack on any extra credit. I really didn’t want to do more than I had planned on, mostly due to time constraints and wanting to get back to my friend’s house at a decent time. I decided to skip the Gerbode loop, as it overlapped a bit with my final loop anyway. My next destination would now be Rodeo Beach, where I would see how many miles the planned route really got me, and tack some on to the end to get me to 31. But before that, I was ready to get out of my wet shoes. Thankfully I had a spare pair and some extra socks in the jeep. I drove to Rodeo Beach barefoot to allow my feet some time to deprune. It was nice to start the last section with dry feet and a mostly dry body.

The final stretch started out fairly dry. I immediately made my way up the Coastal Trail, which brought me to gorgeous overlooks of the water crashing violently against the gigantic, nearly black rock structures lining the coast. I took my time, enjoying the views and snapping pictures. The coastal views were short lived, and the trail quickly took me back into the valleys of the headlands. I made a point to climb up to Hill 88, which served as a radar station to track missiles during the Cold War. Now, the remnants of the buildings are covered in graffiti, which is awesome, but gives it a really creepy vibe. At least, it did for me. But that may have been because I was alone, in a fog so heavy I could barely see across the landing, and all I could hear were the unsettling drip drips from inside the vacated buildings. Needless to say, I didn’t linger long.

From there, the weather started to have fun again. As I gained elevation, the winds picked up and the precipitation joined in. Bring it on, I thought. I’m alive!! It was surprisingly refreshing, invigorating. It kept me moving, pressing hard on the climbs and embracing the sloping downhills. I was loving every second. I thought having the longest section last would make it harder, but it went by much quicker than I anticipated. When I pulled back into Rodeo Beach, I still had a couple miles to tack on. I decided to run down to the beach and see the chocolate brown sand up close. I then went to explore some old buildings and ran around the Rodeo Lagoon before calling it a day. 31.43 miles with 6,671 feet of elevation gain in the books. I really took my time and enjoyed it, as one should with a training run. This was reflected in my time, I totaled 7 hours and 20 minutes of running. What a day.

As I sat in the jeep ready to head back to my friend's house, I reflected back to the morning when I wanted nothing more than to just turn around and drive home. But what would I have gained from that? What would I have done instead? My friend wasn’t there anyway. I likely wouldn’t have learned anything new about myself or experienced such raw emotion like I earned on that run. I just needed to start. To embrace the experience and everything that would come with it. And I did. I fell in love with the Marin Headlands all over again. Not only do they possess some of the most fun trails I’ve ever run, they are some of the most beautiful, too. The mix of hills, valleys, and ocean give the gift of a new vista around every corner. I feel like I’m in a dream every time I submerge myself in their beauty. Until next time, Marin. Thank you for an adventure to remember!