Bay To Breakers, 2010. Or, Some Really Great Tips for Running the Race

Another year, another Bay to Breakers. I have to admit, I wasn't quite ready for this one. Yes, I trained, but not nearly as hard as past races, and not as hard as I wanted. I always use B2B as my reason to awaken from winter's long night, get myself in shape, and gauge where my body stands in relation to the rest of my life. I am always surprised that I come out on the other side, jubilant, and amazed that my body held it together, that I felt strong and that I had more fun running the race than I thought I would. I finished in 1:12:11, or 4,490th place out of 24,304, or the 1,069th woman out of 12,477, or 341st out of 3,512 out of the females 30-39. Or you can just say I FINISHED! Hallelujah!

So at 8a.m. this morning, I stood with the masses on the streets of San Francisco, contemplating my place in humanity, and the fact that I was standing there for something like the 4th time in the past 5 years. Now that I've run this race several times I've learned a few good tips, which I will share with you:

Tip #1: If you're serious about running the race, go to corral B. There are two overwhelmed volunteers manning the corral gates and if you just walk quickly by and ignore them, then you're in. Or better yet, do like I did and go in when the 2 drunk college boys were wheeling a cooler of beer in and the volunteers were distracted trying to stop them. Forget Corral A--that's for the elites and you know you're not one. Corrals C&D are for the drunk people, the high people, the stroller and float people, and the casual joggers and walkers (too many of whom are so frustratingly clueless to the concept of "walk right, run left." Really, people? You're walking 3 wide shoulder to shoulder in the middle of the street as streams of people are tripping themselves up trying to get around you and you have no idea you're being obnoxious?). Plus it's messy back there in Corrals C&D. Seriously. I go to corral B mainly for the fact that I don't have to dodge through puddles of vomit on the way out the gates.

Tip #2: Keep your jacket on until the last minute. When the race is about to start, people start crowding in and then it's like March of the Penguins in there. Really. Stand next to a man, a big man in a tank top if you can find one, because dudes emit heat. It's totally true. Tie your jacket around your waist. Yes it's cold, but if you jog, you'll warm up in no time and the air will actually feel refreshing. And you're gonna need your jacket for the end of the race because it finishes right there at the end of the continent where the land ends and the great, wide Pacific Ocean begins, and it's its own windy and cold weather system over there. Put the jacket on as soon as you finish the race, even if you're hot and sweaty. You'll never get the heat back until you hop in the shower, hours later (see tip#6).

Tip #3: Ignore any protesting your body is doing and enjoy yourself. Look around. Check out the cool costumes. Take in the music. Marvel in the fact that you're running through one of the most beautiful and diverse cities on the planet. Gawk at the naked people (and really, you won't see anything but their backsides unless you actually make the effort to turn around and run backwards). Appreciate the people who have come to watch and point and cheer and crash the party. This is one of the coolest events San Francisco has to offer. It's legendary, people. And you're taking part! You're making this happen. This year was the 99th B2B, so you can bet next year is going to be even better.

Tip #4: Hayes Street Hill is not that bad. It only looks bad on television. And the people who talk about it on television aren't running the race so they have no f$%king idea what it's like to go up that hill. They're bundled up and drinking coffee in a booth somewhere and making small talk about how steep that hill is. But trust me, it's not as steep as it looks. If you jog it, it only takes a few minutes to get to get to the top. Find someone who looks strong but not out of your league and hop on their coattails. They'll take you to the top. And after you crest that hill, which is somewhere after the 2 mile marker, it's all downhill from there. It is. And as an added bonus, the drunk people and the high people and most of the dumb college frat boys are a thing of the past. It's time to hit cruise control and enjoy the rest of the race (see Tip #3).

Tip #5: Don't eat that crap at the finish line. Free samples are good, but don't go scarfing down the sausage or falafel. It's over-priced and disgusting and it's way too early in the morning for that. Plus your body isn't even ready for it. The average person burns about 100 calories/mile. After you run the race, figure you've burned about 700 calories. Save that post-race meal for your favorite eatery. You SO deserve it. And get whatever you want. It's probably one of the only guilt-free meals you're gonna eat all year so enjoy it.

Tip #6: Just because you've crossed the finish line, it doesn't mean you're finished. Yes, enjoy that complementary bottle of water, get your picture taken, congratulate your friends, grab all the free samples and goody bags you can. But you've got a long walk ahead of you. If you're smart you paid the ridiculous 9 bucks or whatever it was for the shuttle to BART or MUNI. The shuttles are at least a mile away (no exaggeration) and you gotta hoof it, and then there's a line to get on the shuttle, and then there's the ride to your station (which can take up to 45 minutes), and then the ride from the station to your destination. I finished the race at about 9:30 and I didn't get to my car until about 11:30. In that time my muscles got all tight and I was freezing my butt off. Good thing I brought my jacket! Oh, and good thing I put on the post-race t-shirt they give to all the registrants.

Tip #7: Register for the race. Yeah you get a t-shirt. But I bet you also like those port-a-potties, don't you? And those water stations? And the clearly-marked course, the medical stations, and the street closures, and the extra police presence and the hoardes of volunteers and the entertainers, and I bet you especially like the fact that after the race there is an army of people to clean up all the mess that tens of thousands of tortilla-flinging, water-cup-tossing people make. It's a worthy cause. You can even donate extra to charities when you sign up.

If you've never run this race, you oughta give it a try. If you have, run it again, because you have to admit, it's fun. It's raucous and rowdy and profane and it's all in good spirit. And then after you've stuffed your face with a 1,000 calorie extra-value meal and taken a hot bath and a long nap, you can show up to taiko rehearsal and say, "I ran 7 1/2 miles across the City of San Francisco this morning, and boy am I tired!" Yeah, you'll be a badass.

Yay for Dads!

I've been waiting something like 6 months to buy a couch. It was waiting very patiently at Ikea, just sitting there on the shelf waiting for me to come along and take it home. I had the money saved up and the space eked out (actually, I have no furniture except for one chair and a coffee table). Only problem was, it didn't fit in my faithful jeep, Yaku. I even went to Ikea beforehand just to measure the box. I knew that what I would need was strategy and good knot technique and a little brute force. What I needed was: my Dad!

And then this weekend, out of the blue, he came up for something of a surprise visit. What a great opportunity! So I whisked him away with me to Ikea. We parked directly in the pick-up and loading zone and then took a short cut through the check out lines, totally bypassed that hellish maze of the interior part of Ikea, and walked up straight to aisle 2, bin 52, which is where my couch was waiting. I am my father's daughter. We both know exactly what we want and where to get it and when the best opportunity is, even if we have to wait. And wait I have!

When we got to the loading zone, my Dad was eating one of those Ikea ice-cream cones, and he just walked up to one of the employees who was shorter than me but twice as wide and built like a Sumo wrestler. My Dad asked if he could help us get it on the roof, and was all ready to help him, but he singlehandedly picked up the box and hefted it onto my car! Wow! That guy was unbelievable. My Dad even tried to slip him a tip, but he refused. Kudos to Ikea employees!! They're the best! Or that one was, anyway. Thank you Sumo-guy!

And then it was just a matter of roping the thing down, my Dad's specialty:

The guy knows his knots, that's for sure. Zip, zap, zing and in no time, I was home with my couch. And yes, because it was Ikea it came in about 30 million pieces, but I put it all together and yay! Now I have a couch! Yay for Dads!