The San Francisco Hot Chocolate 15K was my first race of 2019. I’ve done a Hot Chocolate 15K in the past. So, I knew to expect hot chocolate at the end of race but that’s about it. Since I’m new to the San Francisco Bay Area I kept an open mind about the race and I vowed to have fun regardless.
My morning started at 4:45 am. I rolled out the bed and gave Mrs. 300PAR a kiss on her forehead. As I stumble to the bathroom I wondered if I was prepared for this race. Yes, I’ve been doing some running but nothing serious since the Snoopy Loop-a-thon in December. I tried to rationalize the distance in my half awake brain. “It’s only three 5K’s! You can do this distance in your sleep.” I said to myself as brushed my teeth half asleep.
This was my first time going to Golden Gate Park. From what I can tell it’s San Francisco’s version of Central Park. Like Central Park, the parking was atrocious. I knew something was up when they were selling shuttles tickets at the expo. I found a parking spot near the Mile 8 aid station. It didn’t hit me that I was that far from the starting line until I ask the volunteer how to get there. He pointed and responded about 2 miles in that direction. I gasped and thought about getting back my car to find another parking spot. But before I could respond the volunteer offered to give me a ride to the starting line.
When I arrived at the starting line I notice that I was assigned to the last corral. I wasn’t feeling that assignment. So I snuck into the corral ahead of mines.
About a 1/4 mile into the race I met two ladies who was also doing 1-1 intervals. I asked if I could tag along with them and we became a trio. They were a little faster than me so I had to push myself to keep up. It was challenging but wasn’t hard.
Miles 1-6, there was nothing to note. The course was flat and the ladies and I chatted during the run. When we made it to Ocean Beach, we took a few selfies and kept running.
Miles 6-9, we ran back into Golden Gate Park. It was no longer flat race. The incline was noticeable and it didn’t seem to stop until we made it to the finish line. Around mile 8.5, the sweeper passed me. I tried to have a conversation with her to slow her down but she saw through my ploy and kept running. With less than a half a mile to go shrugged it off and ran my slow pace until I crossed the finish line.
My official time was 2:28:29 with an average pace of 15:56/mile
Here were my splits:
INTERVAL
TIME
PACE
DISTANCE
TIME OF DAY
5K
44:50
14:26
5 Kilometer
9:07:42AM
10K
1:32:41
14:56
10 Kilometer
9:55:33AM
Full Course
2:28:29
15:56
15 Kilometer
10:51:21AM
Race Expo Quality/ Logistics
The race expo was at the South San Francisco Conference Center. It was a small expo. There were about 15-20 exhibitors there. Nothing super exciting. They gave out s’mores during the expo that was pretty cool. There was no packet pick up the day of the race. You either had to pick up your bib during the expo or have it mailed to you early on.
T-Shirts/SWAG
This year we got a full-zip hoodie. The hoodie had zip pockets and thumb holes. It was a nice quality hoodie. I was surprised that they offered sizes up to 3XL because most races stop at XXL. Two thumbs up for offering a hoodie I could actually wear. Race directors take note.
Parking/Race Access
The parking and access into Golden Gate Park was kind of trash. At the expo they sold shuttle tickets that ranged from $15-$30 depending on where the shuttle picked you up from. Since I had somewhere to be immediately after the race I opted to try to find parking near the race (bad idea). I got to Golden Gate Park around 6am. The park entrances was closed and the volunteers didn’t know where the location of the open entrance.
Race Course
Course Scenery
Most of the course was in Golden Gate Park. From miles 3 to 6.5 the course ran alongside the Ocean Beach. Everything about that part of the course was flat out stunning.
Course Difficulty
Most of the is course flat. But, the last 3 miles of the race is on an incline. It was enough incline to get on your nerves but it wasn’t unbearable.
Back of the pack friendliness
I seen plenty of water, Nuun Hydration, snacks at every station and they didn’t run out of medals. What more could you ask for?
Finish Line/ Post Race Experience
After you crossed the finish line they had volunteers with medals, bottles of waters, and Nuun Hydration. They also had plenty of Hot Chocolate mugs filled with goodies.
Overall Experience of the San Francisco Hot Chocolate 15K
This was a fun race and I would definitely do it again. I’m glad I met some awesome people along the course. Something that I did find weird was that there weren’t many people out there cheering us on. I also learnt that I need to do some hill work. Anytime I do a race that has hills the wheels fall off. That means that I need to get stronger so that won’t happen again.
Race Grade
I give this race a 4 out of 5. I wish there was same day packet pick up and the parking situation definitely left a bad taste in my mouth but not enough to stop me from running the race again.
I look forward to the next race. Which is the San Jose 408K! You can use code: RepresentME to save some $$$ on the race entry if you’re interested in running with me.
On behalf of my fellow “back of the pack” runners, also known as the fat runners, the slow runners, the beginner runners, and the walkers, I have a message to deliver.
To the Race Directors whose races ran out of water, removed the mile markers and time mats early, and/or ran out of medals.
Fuck you!
Fight me.
I started running in 2012 and races were not friendly to bigger, slower runners like me. And it hasn’t gotten any better since.
As a back of the pack runner, I still feel neglected and disrespected. I’m tired of it and I want my money back.
And I’m not the only one that feels this way. Thousands of back of the pack runners have experienced the same and discuss it on social media. I even know some who have reached out to race directors and told them about the experiences they’ve had. But it keeps happening: year after year, race after race.
And it’s unacceptable. So I’m putting you on notice.
Why is it acceptable for you to take my hard-earned green money and not treat me with the same dignity, respect, and care as the elite runners? I’m not Meb Keflezighi (far from him) but I put my running shoes on one foot at a time just like him. I trained for this race just like him. I showed up to the starting line just like him. However, when the gun goes off we are treated totally different.
At this point, I imagine you’re clutching your lanyard wondering, “Whatever are you talking about?” I’m about to tell you.
When us slow runners sign up for your race, you promised that you will have water at designated mile markers. Yet by the time I get to those mile markers, the water tables are flipped over and there is no water to be found.
You promised that our race will be timed, but you take down the time mats and mile markers before we get there.
You promise us finisher medals, but when we cross the finish line you’re fresh out.
What it all boils down to is this: you didn’t hold up your end of the deal. You broke your promises to us. And so we want our money back!
But since the races were run, and we’re not getting any refunds, instead we’d settle for a little compassion and attention to the following demands.
Demand #1: Leave the damn water stations up!
And if the water stations absolutely must be broken down, please leave a water cooler there with cups.
Since I started running in 2012, I’ve brought a hydration pack to just about every race over a 10K. I bring a hydration pack because your race will either run out of water or run out of cups before I’m halfway done.
I remember one half marathon I ran ended up being on the hottest day of the summer. It was so hot that the fire department was called to spray the runners down with water. I was at the 10K marker of the half marathon and they ran out of cups. So I had a choice to make:
Use a cup on the ground and pray that I don’t get mono or herpes.
Ask the volunteer to pour the water into my mouth. Or
I could skip that water station and pray that the next water station had cups and water.
None of these is a great solution, especially considering I paid good goddamn money to run that race just like everyone else.
Race directors: you know the back of the pack is still on your course. We need and deserve water as well. We paid for these life-saving courtesies in our race fees. We should not have to bring our own hydration to a race because you failed to provide it. Do better!
Demand #2: Leave the damn time mats down!
Imagine your spouse is running a marathon and you are waiting for them at the finish line. You are using the live-tracking app to following them along the race. You see your spouse just crossed the 10-mile marker and the next marker is at mile 12.
However, the race has started removing the time mats. You wait and wait and wait, frantically refreshing the live-tracking app but it only shows the time when they crossed the mile 10 marker.
So you call your spouse to check in on them but their phone is dead. Now you’re really worried. Minutes turn into hours. You’re checking each injury van to see if your spouse is there but they’re not. You can only hope that they are still running the race.
Eventually, your spouse finishes the marathon in 6 hours 45 minutes, 15 minutes before the cut-off. Do you know how nerve-wracking that is? This is more common than you think and it’s not fair!
Nine out of ten times, back of the packers are running races by themselves and we have family and friends waiting on us either at the finish line and/or at home. If you prematurely remove the time mats before we can cross them our family and friends worry because they don’t know if we are still running the race, or if we got hurt or lost. Most of the time our phones die during the race and the race tracking system may be the only form of communication our family and friends have to make sure that we are still on the course.
Race directors: it’s not fair for the back of the pack to go through this. Do better!
Demand #3: Don’t take down mile markers and signs!
Photo Credit: Latoya Shauntay Snell
First, it’s outright dangerous and second, it’s just cruel.
On the 300 Pounds and Running Podcast, I interviewed Tekia Dinwiddie who decided to train for the St. Jude Memphis Half Marathon after her son, who is a patient at St. Jude, encouraged her to do so.
Around mile 7 the race marshals had taken down the mile markers and signs. As a result, Tekia made a wrong turn and got lost in Memphis. Her phone had died, she didn’t have any money on her, and she ended up in an unsafe neighborhood that she did not know. Lost and afraid, Tekia broke down and cried.
Eventually, she saw someone wearing a race medal and asked them how to get to the finish line. When it was all said and done Tekia ran 18 miles instead of 13.1. Race directors this is unacceptable! Taking down mile markers and signs is disrespectful. I bet if you took down a mile marker and signs while Meb was running your race you wouldn’t have a race anymore, but since it’s a no-name person from the back of the pack it’s okay?
Race directors: Unless you actually want the murder of a back of the pack runner on your conscience because they got lost and ended up in the wrong place, do better!
Demand #4: Gimme my damn medal!
For most of us, running a race is the hardest physical thing that we have ever done in our lives. We trained months for race day. We have done something that elite runner won’t do and that’s run a race without water, where it’s a scavenger hunt to the finish line with the time mats and mile markers are removed.
Our family and friends are worried about us because they can’t track us. We’re fighting with the internal voice in our head that’s telling us to quit and the guy who’s driving the injury van is being an asshole saying that we should quit too.
In spite of all of this, we get to the finish line and there’s fucking a crane in the middle of the road taking it down. But still, we press on and when we finish the race, in spite of all of this, one of your volunteers nonchalantly tells us, “Oh we’re out of medals, you should have finished sooner”.
Imma keep it 100 with you: if I wasn’t so tired from running that race, I would punch that volunteer square in the face.
We finished this race in the allotted time, in spite of everything mentioned above and you have to the nerve to fix your mouth to tell us that we should have finished sooner to get the medal that we already paid for?!? GTFOH!
This type shit is why back of the packers quit. As a fat athlete, I am constantly disappointed. Stores don’t have my sizes, I get weird looks when I run, I’m categorized as lazy, and when I finally push myself out of my comfort zone, I’m still told that I’m not good enough. What type of fat shaming back of the pack hating witchcraft is that?
You may be thinking, “it’s just a medal, we’ll mail you one later!” FUCK THAT!
I can’t speak for the rest of the runners, but for the back of the pack the medal is more than a medal. It’s a badge of accomplishment to show and prove to ourselves that we went to war with the road and we conquered in spite of everything that we went through on that day. It’s what we have to show for beating the odds.
When you don’t have our medal, what could have been a joyous moment, a buoyant moment that propels us further into a passion for fitness and health, becomes yet another disappointment in a history of disappointments that each and every fat person goes through over the course of their lives.
Not to mention the fact that you took our money, wasted our time, and gave us nothing in return.
Us back of the pack runners love your races. We love the challenge and the environment. We love running, and the opportunity to have a tangible symbol of our progress. For me, running not only changed my life, it saved it.
And I know so many other people who feel the same way. So many, in fact, that I’ve spent the past year and some change podcasting to document their stories. So when I put out the call for back-of-pack race stories I was overwhelmed with experiences like the ones I’ve outlined above. This all boils down to one essential fact.
Ya’ll need to do better.
The back of the pack is an emerging demographic in the running community and you need to be more inclusive to it. As stated before, we all put our running shoes one foot at a time just like Meb and we should get the same respect as he gets.
We expect you’ll take our demands seriously. Because we won’t keep supporting your races forever if you don’t.
Martinus Evans
Unofficial Ambassador of the Back of the Pack
300poundsandrunning.com
PS. And if you think I’m just one person, think again. Here’s proof:
To Whom it May Concern:
My name is Latoya Shauntay Snell and I have been a self-proclaimed back of the pack runner for 4 1/2 years. When I started my fitness journey – particularly running – I felt like I reinvigorated a part of myself that I didn’t think I could tap. In 2011, I was diagnosed with sciatica, a herniated disc, over 20 fibroids and lost my job in the culinary industry due to a limitation in my mobility.
Running added on a layer to my life more than many may understand. When you are stripped of your mobility, it takes away your sense of independence and at times, your joy to life.
I am a fairly plus size woman and not exactly the speedier of the bunch but the joy of being on the road, fast or slow, moves me.
Just last year, I was heckled at the NYC marathon by a spectator who thought it was funny to poke fun of me about my size — and he had no idea that I just recovered from a miscarriage with twins and diagnosed with endometriosis. My already slower pace made me slower. Thankfully the NYC marathon has made it a point to stay out there with the back of the pack runners.
Unfortunately, I didn’t experience a similar joy this year at my beloved Chicago Marathon. I had a SAG vehicle behind me from mile one despite maintaining a 15 minute pace — and I was far from the last runner on the course. This was an exceptionally new experience for me. Even as I sped up, it was as if I couldn’t shake the police escort.
By 3:22, I reached the halfway point and I was greeted by several garbage trucks that took up both lanes, the SAG vehicle, and tables being turned over that once housed water and sodium hydration.
I get it — courses have limits on times and the streets have to reopen. But isn’t there a better alternative to provide? Have you considered leaving up one table on the sidewalk with an extra incentive to a few volunteers to stay? Or instead of dumping all of that water, allowing a few gallons to stay off to the side? When I watched people pull off mile markers prematurely, it made me feel like last year’s heckler’s remarks were validated. Taking away basic things that means a lot to us so late into the race but near a finish line makes me question if anyone cares about our finish as much as the elites. It’s a staccato taste that covers your mouth when you reach a finish line and your bags are suddenly lost/misplaced after running through the rain for 7 hours. That was my experience and yet I feel for those who may share this but as a first timer.
At some point, where’s the concern for the slower runners. I’d be sure that some of us would be willing to pay an extra 5 to 10.00 in race fees just to ensure that we can make it across the finish line too. But again, I question if we truly matter.
At one race, I remember running my first 60K just to NOT come home with a medal because they ran out. As race directors, I urge you to listen to some of the needs beyond sponsorships. Back of the pack runners are runners too. I ask for you to do better.
Love Run (3/25/18) they had pulled up all the timer Mats and all the volunteers left. The Philly police were trying to sweep runners off the course and onto the sidewalks but these were blocked by fallen trees from a recent snowstorm/nor’easter that had come through a few days before. Plus, the vibe of the entire Run was bad. I had never felt that in any other run I have ever done in Philly. I will NEVER do the Love Run again. –Lauren D.
NYC half marathon a few years ago. Horrible cold that day. Water tables flipped over, barriers being removed, found our own way to the finish line. –Sherrie F.
ran the Pasadena Half Marathon in 2013. I finished in 2:25, which I believe is pretty much middle of the pack. Nonetheless, during the second half of the race, the aid stations were already out of water and weren’t making any effort to get any more water. It was very warm–in the high 80s. It really gave me an appreciation for what slower runners go through. It’s totally bogus because our race fees go towards the finish line amenities, and all amenities should be available for all finishers. –Keriann E.
How you ever had a bad Back of the Pack experience i.e, water table flipped over, the race ran out of water, time mats and mile markers removed, ran out of medals or food at the finish line? If so, share with me your story in the comments below. It’s time to put these race directors on notice. If you believe in fair treatment for all runners please share this post on social media!
Oh boy! Momma said there were gonna be days like this. Remember last time when I said it was the catalyst and I’m only going downhill from there? Well, I’m rolling downhill! Today was the infamous 20-minute run and I did it on the treadmill.
The only thing I was thinking was “Are we done yet?” as I looked down at my watch. Only 30 seconds had gone by. I looked down again and only an additional 15 seconds had passed. I said to myself, this 20 minute interval is going to take forever.
That’s pretty much how my whole run went today. When I finished I said to myself that it wouldn’t have been this bad if I had been running outside, but the weather isn’t the best out there today. When you’ve got no choice, you’ve got to take all runs in stride. I just kept telling myself that I have to keep being consistent and persistent. If I keep this up, before I know it that 20 minute interval will be go by like a fart in the wind! Let’s see how next week goes, huh?
I know I’m not the only one who has felt time crawl to a standstill. When’s the last time you felt like you were getting nowhere fast on the treadmill?
Today is one of those days. I looked at my schedule and I had to do a double-take -I shook my head and said to myself that Couch to 5k is some bulls–t today! It was one of those moments that you just have to laugh to keep from crying. However, I knew all along the joke was on me. Why? Because I’m the one who created this plan. The funny thing is when I came up with this particular Couch to 5k plan, I thought it was a great idea. To me, it looked very systematic and that it would be perfect for someone who wanted to start training for a 5K. However, when it’s your turn to try it you have second thoughts. I guess it’s all fun and games until someone have to go for a run.
Anyways, I’m calling today the catalyst to greatness. All of the work that I have been doing over the past five weeks, rolling this proverbial stone up that steep hill of what I call running and losing weight, and I’m finally at the top of the hill. Right now, that stone is teetering back and forth – it could go either way. Well, today is the catalyst that gets the ball moving in the right direction.
I knew it would be today when I looked at my schedule and I saw that I only had two ten-minute running intervals. From this point on, things are going to be moving fast. By this time next week there will be only one interval for a 20-minute run and two weeks from now it’s going to be a 30-minute run. From that point we can stop talking about minutes and start talking about overall distance; I’m talking 5k, baby!
So yes, today is the catalyst. As I am writing this I have a huge grin on my face and a single tear of happiness running down my cheek. Why? Because this time last year I didn’t know if I would ever be healthy enough to run again, and look at me now.
Today is the catalyst for all of the big runs to come. I wish I had something thought provoking to say here, but I don’t – the only thing I can really say is to keep at it. #DefyTheOdds! It’s the only reason I’m here at this moment, right now after two car accidents in one year and Achilles tendinopathy in another, is by being persistent and consistent. That means having the fortitude to endure and overcome obstacles day in and day out. Don’t get me wrong – there have been some dark days. There have been some when I just wanted to give it all up. But I didn’t, and that’s the difference. Besides if I gave up, who’s going to be there to inspire you? And while I’m excited that today is the catalyst, I’m much more excited that someone else might be inspired by my own journey…
Have you ever reached a tipping point in your own life where that big boulder just teeters on the top of that big hill? Talk about your own catalyst moment in the comments below.
This week I’m on vacation and it is moving fast. Additionally, I’m having a bit of cabin fever and I was thinking that I should go to the gym to get out of the house. However, my gym is not close to home – it’s on the way to work, and since I’ve been on vacation I haven’t felt the need to drive 35 minutes each way, nor waste gas money to drive to the gym and back, especially with one trip being roughly a quarter of a tank of gas. Besides, I’ll bet that the gym is just jam-packed full of people working on their New Years resolutions. Who even knows if there would be any open treadmills anyway? With that said, it has been about three days since I last worked out and I really need to get a run in today if I want to stay on track with my running schedule.
So I took a look out of the front window only to find freshly plowed roads. I made a low grumbling noise, because the excuse that I was going to use to get out of running today was no longer true. Yeah, it had snowed, but the roads were clear, so it was safe to go running outside. At that moment I mentally checked in and asked myself, “Why don’t you want to run outside today?” Then it hit me: I had been hesitant to run outside because I was worried about my Achilles tendon. I haven’t gone running on the road since I injured myself. Right now I feel like I’m in a good place and I’ve been progressing through the Couch to 5K program pretty well. Not only that, I’ve started to add new things into my workout routine, and for once I’m starting to feel healthy and strong again – and I really didn’t want to mess that up over one run outside on the pavement.
See, this is what injuries do to you. Mine has me second-guessing myself. I’ve taken fewer risks and not pushed myself as hard because I know how it feels to lose it all and be sidelined. I’m trying to not be there anymore, so here’s the dilemma: do I stay indoors and not run today, or do I go for that run outside and risk tweaking something again? I really had to ask myself which pain was greater, the guilt of not running today or the pain of running outside with the possibility of re-injuring myself? Of course, there’s also a third possibility: that I go running outside today and I don’t injure myself.
I grumbled again and decided the guilt from not running today would be more painful than worrying about getting injured again. I put on my running gear, headed outside, and started my intervals for the day (5-minute run, 3-minute walk, 6-minute run, 3-minute walk, 5-minute run). No more than three minutes into the run, I noticed that my left calf muscle was tight, so I slowed down and became hyper aware of that leg. I even went so far as to stop a few times during the run to stretch my calves out. I ended up kicking myself a bit over it, asking myself why I decided to run on the pavement today. However, when I got to the second interval, I notice the tightness in my calf was gone. I let out a sigh of relief. Finally, I had caught a break! The rest of the run went amazingly well and I even remember smirking at one point during the run.
Today I learned a valuable lesson: the pain of not going out there for a run is far greater than the thought of possibly injuring myself again. I would rather run – and run the risk getting injured while doing something that fills my life with so much joy – than sitting on the couch and feeling guilty and sad because I didn’t go for run today.
Have you ever been in the same situation? Are you sitting on the fence, wondering if you should start your own journey to better health by running – or are you prepared to take the first step but you haven’t yet? Have you noticed something is still holding you back? Ask yourself if the pain you’re feeling right now, the pain of not starting, is greater than the pain you’ll experience if you set off towards your goals of better health. If the answer is “yes,” then do yourself a favor, my friend: Get started!
Have you gone through something similar? Has the pain of not starting ever turned out to be greater than the pain you actually endured when you started? Leave a comment below and share your experiences.
This week commences the start of week 3 of couch to 5K (C25k). The running intervals are getting longer and there are less walking intervals. Compared too when I started running and now. I feel it’s little bit easier… Endurance wise, I’m in a good spot. However, physically I’m still a little hesitant to push myself and that’s where the mental aspect gets a little tricky.
There’s a battle going on between my inner troll and myself. My inner troll is constantly trying me. He’s says things like; I’m not pushing myself hard enough. He tells me that I should run faster and longer. He says to forget the intervals, the treadmill, and taking it slow and easy… I should be running races by now. The rational side of me knows that is all crazy talk and deep down inside I’m really afraid.
I’m afraid that I will get back healthy only to injure myself again. I’m afraid that I won’t be able to run races and crush goals anymore. My Achilles is about 65-70% healed and I only have 1 more physical therapy session left. I’m just afraid that I will get out on my own and mess up all the progress that I‘ve made so far. And that doubt is what my inner troll is eating for breakfast. :::Shakes head::: How can I inspire someone when I’m still trying to work out my own inner issues??
At this point I can’t say if I’ll get some more PT session. I’ll have to wait and see how it pans out after the New Year. But I want you to know that I’m still fighting the good fight, I’m still striving to crush goals. I’m just going at pace slower than what I’m use to…
