Across the Bay 12k (2019)

Back to San Francisco, I went for this run. But this time was a little different.
Running through the city without being completely inebriated allowed me to take in several parts of the city that I seldom have an opportunity to appreciate. So naturally I wanted to go back.

When I signed up for the Across the Bay 12k by Run Local, I made sure I wasn’t signing up for a half marathon this time. Good thing there weren’t any backpacks or additional swag. Actually, the added benefit of this race was given to me during the race.

Living in the San Francisco Bay Area doesn’t mean I had ever really taken full advantage of the most beautiful views in the bay. Well, Run Local gave me more than a reason to cross one of those landmarks off my list—they also gave me a medal for doing it. I finally made it across the Golden Gate Bridge on foot for the very first time in my life.
It amazes me that people really come from around the world to see this bridge, yet I had trouble making time to drive an hour away to see one of the most beautiful areas in California.

That day, procrastination took an L.

So what was it like? Ha!

If you’re the type of runner who likes knocking out your runs in the early morning, then you’ll remember the feeling on the first few days when waking up at ass-crack-30 really hurt.

The day started earlier than normal since I had to drive to San Francisco. Luckily, I had a couple friends join me for the drive up. I have run with Ben and Christina in other Represent Running events in San Jose, so we decided to carpool for the event in SF to save on parking and gas. We fought through traffic and found some conveniently expensive parking at the Aquatic Center bus area at the end of Fisherman’s Wharf. That’s where we caught a shuttle to the starting line.

It was foggy and cold that morning, a typical San Francisco morning. The bus ride across the bridge and into the park was a little chillier because of the wind. But we packed into that yellow bus with no seatbelts, feeling like a school bus ride to the big game, so the energy of people began to fog up the windows.

We arrived on the Sausalito side of the bridge in a park called Fort Baker. As soon as I stepped off the bus, the energy was challenged by the foggy fingers slowly making their way up my shirt. The chill wrapped itself around me and sent a chill down my spine.

Great. Now I have to pee.

Like any race bathroom area, the line was down the block. We thought there was plenty of time left with 30 minutes to our start time, but we were still in line when the National Anthem started and still in line when they announced our corral start followed by a gunshot.

We decided to make peace with the idea of catching the third wave. It was 8:10AM, we did our business and we were finally walking to the starting line to start with the third wave of people at 8:15AM. We made it just in time to hear the third wave countdown. All good.

AWe were off! Our three-pack stayed close together until we hit the first obstacle of the course—climb the hill to get to the bridge. One by one, people began to walk as we made our way up the hill. Then Christina fell behind and Ben and I kept pushing through. My intention was to keep going until it hurt, but it never started hurting, so I never stopped. I couldn’t believe that I made it to the top.

Then that joy turned into amazement when I caught the view of the bridge. I slowed my trot down to a near walk while I grabbed a cup of water from the water station at the top of the hill. Then reality hit. I was about to run over the Golden Gate Bridge for the first in my life.

The euphoria of accomplishing a bucket-list item only lasted for a few minutes before the cold breeze of the Pacific Ocean brought me back to the moment. An SF Police Officer stood at the gate to the bridge greeting runners as we passed by. Then the eerily blank presence of the netting just off the ocean-side railing holding firm in the wind ready to catch whatever comes its way—another reminder of the tragedy that continues to haunt the bridge year after year.

I shook off the daydream and fell back into my amazement of running across the bridge. A smile took over my face. The fog was a cool relief mixing with the sweat rolling down my face. And the smell, the fresh air smell with a hint of asphalt and just enough ocean salt in the mist to remind you of the ocean below.

Over the bridge, next to threads of the steel cables, under the giant metal arches disappearing up into the fog, along the historic pathway built before I was born.

As I went farther over the bridge, the wind whipped around each steel column. There were even times when it almost pulled my hat off my head.

I couldn’t see it, but I could hear, beyond that fog, the gateway to the largest ocean in the world.

There were moments when I would pass people and look over the rail to see the ocean below. It was blueish green, riddled with white-capped waves from the surging wind.

My face hurt because I smiled nearly the whole way across the bridge.

Ben and I stayed close all the way to the end of the bridge while Christina fell back. I did my best to stay with him as we reached the toll booth to enter the city. Then we turned off onto another trail that went under the bridge and down to the coast.

The downhill trail gave me some speed and I let my body carry me down the hill. At the bottom, we turned up the coast toward the bridge and ran along the rocks only a few feet from the water. The ocean breeze formed a slight mist from the waves crashing against the rocks, a relieving and nutritious moment as I licked the salt off my lips.

The view of the Golden Gate Bridge from Fort Point National Historic Site is simply amazing. I had to take a quick moment to fully take it in, vowing to come back another day to truly appreciate it. Then we moved past the Presidio and Crissy Field. Then Ben turned the boosters on and left me in his dust, but I wasn’t far behind.

The crowd of runners moved across the marina trail past the beautiful homes and the Yacht Harbor until we entered the Great Meadow Park at Fort Mason, which was another hill that I completely demolished by the way.

The park trail led us into another nice downhill slope. And again, I let my body carry me down the hill, keeping the same pace until we turned onto Van Ness at Aquatic Park. That’s when I turned the corner and saw the finish line less than 50 yards away. I turned up my music and sprinted as hard as I could to the finish line, crossing with a chip time of 1:11:13 and beating my time at Bay to Breakers in May 2019.

Ben was waiting for me at the finish line since he had finished a few minutes before I did. We slapped high-fives, took some finish line picks, and hung around to wait for Christina, who wasn’t far behind either.

Afterwards, we picked up our cool shirts and cruised through the festivities. We even stopped at a local spot for an amazing breakfast before we made the drive home.

On the drive home, a sense of accomplishment overwhelmed me. It was the same sense that I had gotten from every race I’ve done before. It was a sense of relief because I had finally done something with my athletic abilities.

Next up, my one year running anniversary at the Wharf to Wharf race in Santa Cruz. Did I get faster? How far have I come with my running?

I guess there was only one way to find out.