Jalen Gooch

You pass the 13 mile mark and view the finish line in the distance. You can see the large crowds cheering along the sides, yet you only hear the sound of your heart beating and feet striking the ground.

Just a few more steps and it will be over. A sudden wave of energy washes over you as your body drains the last of its energy stores. It’s over. You’ve crossed the finish line. The half marathon is over and you’ll never have to do that again, right?

What if you did it 4 more times?

The Bay Area Challenge encourages runners of all skill levels to consecutively complete five races. Races can be completed at any distance as well as in person or virtually.

Why would you put yourself through this you ask? There’s nothing like a shiny medal to bring out your innate pirate Neanderthal. (Maybe that’s just me, but I’d like to imagine it’s a shared universal experience.)

Participating in the Bay Area Challenge was one of the most difficult, yet most rewarding endeavors I have pursued. Whether waking up at 6 am to get a run in before the weather got too hard or actually making sure to get enough sleep, I had to overcome both physical and mental barriers.

To anyone who is thinking about getting into running or attempting their first 5k or half marathon, I hope my experience can give you a little bit of insight into what you are getting yourself into. Being a part of a community of runners has been an extremely fulfilling experience for me so I hope you can take something away (or at least laugh) at the battles I faced on the starting line.

Without further ado, let’s dive right into part one of my Bay Area Challenge Experience.

Race Details

• Date: November 19, 2023
• Race Time (Chip): 1:37:34
• Race Time (Gun): 1:40:56
• Tummy Troubles: Moderate
• Playlist: I am speed (Berkeley Half)
• Results: 83rd in M20-29, 228th of 2673 

The Berkeley Half Marathon was the start of my running career. I had always seen the race cut through the UC Berkeley campus and thought it would be a fun bucket list item to cross off before I graduated. I was planning to run a silly little 5k, collect my medal, and not run for the foreseeable future. 

I had no idea how to start training, so I waited for a few friends who had floated the idea around to commit before I registered. That moment arrived when my two best friends casually mentioned that they had registered and I was so relieved knowing I wouldn’t have to race alone. These hopes were quickly shot down when they revealed it was the half-marathon they had registered for and that I would be doing the same.

At this point, I had never ran longer than 2 miles consecutively. 13.1 miles was a death sentence, both physically and financially. They dodged each of my excuses, explaining I had weeks to get in shape and that by volunteering I could get my entry fee waived. I had nowhere else to run. (pun not intended, but greatly appreciated)

In exchange for the exponential jump in effort they were expecting me to make, I demanded that we all train together. They laughed, sent me a link for the Nike Run Club app and told me they’d see me on race day.

Training Begins

I was hesitant to train alone, but I ended up downloading the app and starting the half-marathon training plan. The first workout was a 15 minute Recovery Run and I was overwhelmed not only by how physically out of shape I was, but how humiliating it felt to run in front of people for the first time in years. (In hindsight, people were mostly surprised by the mixed sounds of wheezing and sobbing as I ran by)

My first Long Run was a 9 mile run, significantly more than I had ever ran. I decided to take a bus down to the Marina to run alongside the bay. It was hard and I had to stop numerous times, but I remember after finishing feeling invincible. The next bus would arrive in 5 minutes, so I rushed to the stop excited to return home and celebrate. 

I reached into my pocket to grab my clipper card and froze. At some point during that 9 mile run, my clipper card had fallen out of my pocket. Flew too close to the sun? No, it felt as if I had been shot down from the sky, tied to a catapult, and launched directly into the sun.

For those of you who aren’t too familiar with the marina, the path that I had run that day was not a simple road, but more similar to a hiking trail, in that you are running through hills of grass and gravel. After 2 hours, another 9 miles, I ended up calling one of my friends to pick me up.

This happened within my first week of training and I debated taking this as a sign and giving up. Yet, I continued.

I continued training for the next few weeks with no shortage of obstacles. After sliding across the pavement in front of a bus full of classmates, getting lost in Tahoe, and many unfinished runs, race weekend was upon us.

Race Weekend

The Friday before we raced, we arrived at our volunteer station drenched from the pouring rain. After hours of struggling to find the correct bib number and grab four tiny safety pins with my sausage fingers, I was comforted by all the familiar faces I had seen. In less than 48 hours, we all would be standing on the starting line together.

Instead of going home and resting up for the race, I hopped in a car full of friends and drove to Palo Alto. In a set of circumstances convenient to no one, race weekend was also the weekend of the big football game against Stanford. 

Due to a healthy amount of superstition (is that even possible?) I had cut out drinking for the entire month of November. So I’m sure you all can imagine the demons I was fighting as we moved from tailgate to another surrounded by my drunk peers (and foes, we were on enemy territory of course).

After sitting in the rain for what felt like years, we won the game and rushed the field. (I was lame and took the stairs because jumping over the rail and breaking my leg the day before the race would not be a good look for the brand). We rushed back home, making a quick stop to carb load at Chick-fil-a, and fell into bed awaiting the day before us.

Race Day

Luckily for me the starting line of the race was only a block away from where I was living, so I could’ve gotten a few more minutes of sleep compared to other racers. However, due to my aforementioned healthy superstition, I was awake at four am shoveling down a bowl of oatmeal and washing it down with 2 bottles of Gatorade.

I had never settled on what I was going to wear for the race and in an act of desperation ended up sporting a poorly made DIY tank top with a pair of cheap pink athletic sleeves I had bought to cover my first tattoo when it was still healing. (If this was dress to impress I would have been publicly executed)

I arrived at the starting line around 20 minutes before the race had started and was surprised by the sheer amount of people at the starting line. Before long, the sounds of Whitney Houston singing the national anthem drifted through the crowd, and they began to count us down.

3, 2, 1…GO!!! (If you are not at the start of the race this part can be a bit anticlimactic because everyone cheers, but you wait a good 1-2 minutes, before you can actually start running. I also made the mistake of starting my guided run right at this moment and not when I crossed the starting line so all of my distance checks were early).

I remember trying to pace myself as much at the beginning, being that 12 miles was the further I had run. If you are familiar with Berkeley or the Bay Area in general, you know how steep and hilly certain parts of the city can be. At times, it felt like the designers of the course had intentionally chosen the steepest hills in the city to weed us off like contestants on Squid Game.

All is going well, when suddenly the 2 Gatorades that I had downed have decided to make a celebrity guest appearance. To compensate, the two brain cells not devoted to keeping my heart pumping and lungs breathing decided it would be smart to not stop at any of the water stations. Genius!!

Enter mile 9 and I am not only about to wet myself like a 4 month old, but all the water that was once in my body is sitting in a puddle of sweat back at mile 5. Excitement quickly turned into desperation as I realized I had to end this race NOW.

I gradually began to pick up the pace, waving to friends as we crossed the bridge leading to the marina and headed towards the finish line. Every time I thought I was close, the path would turn in the opposite direction into a random residential area. I remember being on the verge of crawling to the door of the nearest house and begging them to have mercy when I saw it.

I felt the pain (and rationality for that matter) leave my body as I nearly began sprinting towards the finish line. My life flashed before my eyes, as I pictured all of the runs that had led to this final moment. While most people stop running after crossing the finish line and celebrate, this was merely a checkpoint for me. The race was not over until I found the nearest bathroom or died trying.

After collecting my medal and seeing the gates of Heaven multiple times, I made my way through the crowd to find my friends. We all celebrated hugging and crying, in awe of the feat we had just accomplished.

Just like that it was all over. All my training had let up to this moment and it was a bittersweet ending. The year was coming to a close, as was my final semester of university and this felt like the perfect way to end things. But holding the medal in my hand a creeping, borderline neurotic thought passed through my mind.

What if this wasn’t the end, but only the beginning?

Thank you all for reading part one of my Bay Area Challenge. If you enjoyed this, stay tuned there are 4 more parts and it only gets worse from here! But in all seriousness, I appreciate you making it all the way to the end. Please comment below any of your running questions or stories. I would love to hear them all and I look forward to seeing you all in the next one.

Cheers!

Be sure to read the next race in the series! Part 2: Oakland Half Marathon.