Jalen Gooch

Read about my experience running the San Francisco Marathon.

Despite all the work that had gone into conquering the San Francisco Marathon, there was no time to rest. In less than one month, I would have to face the final race in the challenge. 

Luckily, the furthest distance offered at this event was a half-marathon, so the stakes weren’t as high. Training began after resting for about a week to let my body recover from the aftermath of the marathon and the chaos of moving back home.

In just a few days I would be back where everything started. I had been preparing myself for this very moment for years. Who knew what would happen after? All I could do was lace up my shoes one last time and take those clumsy first steps to the final challenge that lay before me: The Giant Race.

Race Details

• Date: August 18, 2024
• Race Time (Chip): 1:31:18
• Race Time (Gun): 1:33:04
• Tummy Troubles: GONE
• Playlist: Victory Lies Before You (Giant Race)
• Results: 3rd in M18-24, 43rd of 1216

As mentioned, the final race was scheduled less than a month after the SF Marathon, so I didn’t have too much time to train between weeks of camp and moving back home. I planned to let myself recover while working my last week of camp and then start training again once I had settled back at home.

After a week of cherished memories and saying heartfelt goodbyes, I was back in Southern California, around 400 miles from where the race would occur.  I had procrastinated finalizing my travel plans until the last minute and rushed to figure out how to get back to the bay, where I would be staying, etc.

I had woken up feeling sick a few days since returning home but attributed it to burnout. After all, I came from two weeks of camp surrounded by hundreds of campers and their grubby, sticky little hands. 

The following day, I woke up feeling horrible. Out of caution, I took a COVID test just to be safe. The test came back negative I figured that with a bit of rest and sleep, it would all blow over by the day of the race.

Contrary to what I had hoped, I woke up the next morning feeling even worse than I had before. Despite the first COVID test returning negative, I took another one, for peace of mind. I let out a big sigh when I returned 15 minutes later to see the dreaded double red lines on today’s test. 

The race was around 12 days away and I still hadn’t started training. Knowing that I now had no place to run, let alone make it down a flight of stairs, I prioritized getting healthy as soon as possible.

After 10 days of testing positive, I finally tested negative. A mere two days before the race. This meant my body had generously given me a single day to train for the race.

To test the state of my body, I did a 25-minute recovery run. I had to stop every 5 minutes or so to catch my breath, but every time I would stop I would be hit with an intense wave of nausea. It would be a miracle if I finished the race alive.

Race Weekend

Race weekend had finally arrived. My parents, who decided at the last minute they wanted to come along, and I all loaded into the car and embarked on our 6-hour journey back to the Bay Area. 

I had fought to pick a hotel close to the start of the race to make the morning of the race flow smoother. After checking into the hotel, I left to pick up my packet and bib across the street.

After entering the stadium, I checked my email and saw my assigned bib number: 1148. The first table, however, starts from 1200 and goes up. I bounce from volunteer to volunteer, steadily making my way up the chain of command before getting sent to the solutions table.

Just as confused as I was, they asked if I had bought the VIP package. Knowing for sure that was not something I could afford, I hesitantly walked over to the VIP section with a volunteer just to be sure.

As we walked over, my ego kicked in, thinking that maybe because it was my last race in the Bay Area Challenge or because I had run fast enough in previous races, I was bumped up to VIP. This feeling of pride quickly turned into fear when I remembered the current state of my body and how embarrassing it would be to be carried off the track in an ambulance wearing a VIP bib.

We didn’t find my bib in the VIP section (thank God) and I was sent back to Solutions one last time. After a few minutes of searching, the woman helping me asked if I had opted to have my packet mailed to me and all at once everything clicked.

I flashed back to the moment I registered for the race, still sick with COVID. No travel plans were finalized so I just figured the best option would be to pay to have my bib mailed to me and then bring it up with me, however, I decided to travel.

The only issue is that being in a state of sickness-induced brain fog, I relied on autocomplete to fill out most of the application. Including the address of the apartment, I had just moved out of. 

When I never received the bib in the mail, I assumed that I had picked the option to pick it up in person, when in reality, it had been sent to the wrong address.

I immediately began to spiral. If I left right now and took the BART would I be able to make it to my old apartment in time? Would I be there?

Witnessing the mental gymnastics I was going through, she quickly reassured me that they could just reassign me another bib number and that it would be the one I would need to wear the day of the race.

I dragged myself back to the hotel feeling utterly humiliated and immediately climbed in bed, hoping to sleep off a bit of fatigue I was still feeling. After fighting chills yet again, and sleeping a little bit later than I should have, I now woke up with the challenge of finding my pre-race meal.

I started looking up places nearby that I could DoorDash, kicking myself because most places had closed at this point. I was lucky to find a place nearby where I ordered a simple chicken and rice meal and added a stop at 7/11 to pick up some snacks and Gatorade for after the race.

Full from the meal I quickly was hit with a bout of sleepiness and climbed into bed. After a few minutes, my mind began to race. I spent the next few hours tossing back and forth fighting chills and anxious about how tomorrow would unfold, but there was no turning back now.

Race Day

At around 5 am, I got out of bed, dressed myself, and did some light stretches. I still had a few voice memos from friends I needed to string together, so I quickly opened Audible, added a bit of background music, and uploaded it to my phone. 

I finished packing my things, knowing if I survived, the first thing I would want to do was start the drive back. I grab everything I need and head out the door for one last race.

I saw the line for gear check and was thankful my parents could serve as my fans and personal gear check. The race was about to start and they were nowhere to be seen, but eventually, they arrived, we took a few pictures, and I was off to the starting line.

Compared to previous races, the sun had already broken through the fog, but I was prepared this time, wearing the lightest possible colors I could find. After hearing yet again, the patriotic national anthem by Whitney Houston, something I promise will never get old. We set off.

The first half of this race was identical to the start of the SF Marathon and I was transported back to that race. Luckily, all the anxiety I had been feeling leading up to the race had built up the perfect store of adrenaline and I felt relatively strong with each mile that passed. 

As we got closer to the Marina and Crissy Field, a much-needed thick layer of fog began to cover us. Running alongside the bay, I remember hearing the horns of ships, deep inside the fog, and feeling like I was running in a completely different space and time.

From prior experience, I knew I should start picking up the pace and decided to listen to the voice memos I had put together before my headphones died. Despite how tired I was, I could not stop laughing at all the messages my friends had sent me. 

Hearing the voices of my friends gave me the final boost I needed to finish what I had started back in November. These last few miles culminated all the mornings I had spent training. 

When I first started running, one of the things that struck me the most was how quickly I was accepted into a community of runners. I remember telling my friends how many friendly waves I received from other runners on my first long run.

If you have done any training plans on the Nike Run Club app, I’m sure you’ve heard how they describe running as a sport where we are not competing against each other but are competing against ourselves, alongside one another.

With less than a mile to go, I picked up the pace, feeling faster than I had run in any race. Running along the bay, I spot the stadium in the distance, signifying the end of my journey. With my heart beating, I followed the guiding lines and crowds of people leading to the entrance of the stadium.

After a brief moment of darkness, I enter the stadium in all its glory. Runners who have finished the race celebrate with their loved ones, while those still waiting cheer from the bleachers. I summoned the last of my strength, a sprint across the finish line. A climatic end to my long journey.

Post-Race

It is hard to believe that it has only been a few months since the challenge ended. Although each race feels ages ago, all races occurred in the previous year, in less than a 12-month timeframe.

I still remember my first run in preparation for the Berkeley half marathon. Feeling so out of place running in front of people on campus, not knowing what to wear, what was a good pace, and having to stop every 5 minutes. If you told me in around 6 months I would have finished my first full marathon I would have likely laughed at you.

After a brief brush with shin splints, I have started running again, although only once or twice a week.

To answer the question you all are asking, was it worth it? As of today January 22nd, 2025, I still have yet to receive the medal signifying the completion of the challenge, but it’s the destination, not the journey right?? (I am preparing for an intense legal battle)

But in all seriousness, although this challenge started on a whim and wasn’t something I saw myself doing, I truly believe running has changed me. In the Nike Run Club runs, you will always hear them say after sharing a piece of running advice, that “this is about running, but it also isn’t about running.”

There are many parallels between what happens on a run and the different areas of my life. As I write this I find myself in a place where I’m not seeing the changes or living the life I had hoped for, and like training for a marathon, I have to force myself to show up every day, knowing that things will pull through in the end.

As cliche as it is, life is a marathon, not a sprint. So whether you’ve just crossed the finish line and are wondering what’s next, or are just taking the first steps towards the future you hope lies before you, I wish you all the best and I’ll see you on the next starting line.

Thank you for making it this far and reliving my Bay Area Challenge Experience with me! I’d love to hear your thoughts on the topic so feel free to comment below or email me at funemployedera@gmail.com. Thanks again for reading and until next time. Take Care!

Be sure to check out my experience with the other races in the challenge: Berkeley Half Marathon, Oakland Half Marathon, and San Francisco Marathon