We didn’t come all the way to Long Beach, LA, for an obscure local 5k/10k/10M/HM race. We are here for Fi’s Orthopaedic Research Conference, and I needed to find things to entertain myself with. $28 later I was signed up to run two out-and-back 5k loops of the beachfront for Groundhog Day (repeating the route twice seemed very fitting).
I woke up at 05:00, keenly aware that I was at risk of oversleeping and missing the run entirely. It was not for this reason that I promptly fell back asleep and woke up at 05:30. In my defence I was still in the grip of jet lag, having had only one full day since landing. Quickly showering and adorning my tiny new Adidas shorts and acid wash t-shirt (bought for a bargain price from The National Running Show), I scoffed a bowl of artificially sweet blueberry Special K, followed by a banana. I had at least had the forethought the night before to prepare my pack with a litre of water, waterproof, banana, and pins in case they weren’t provided. The waterproof might seem a bit overkill, but I kept getting weather alerts for an incoming coastal storm so didn’t want to take any chances. Thankfully the weather held, and it was the following day when the heavens opened and a coastal flood alert was issued, interrupting the comedy show at the Laugh Factory. But back to the point.
I had been apprehensive about travelling to America. My impression was it was a nightmare for pedestrians in that the infrastructure wasn’t there for you to get about. If I couldn’t walk and run about, I might go a little mad. However, as true as poor pedestrian infrastructure may be for some places, in the city I have found no real problem whatsoever. The lights may stay green far too long for traffic and you can only legally cross the road at an intersection, but I have found it surprisingly easy to get around.

The air was cool, and the sky grew brighter with pastel hues as I made my way along Ocean Boulevard. Dropping down onto the beach I didn’t expect it to be that busy. Numerous runners, cyclists, skateboarders, longboarders, roller-skaters, and elliptical bikers filled the shoreline way. A light breeze from out in the Pacific helped keep me cool as the air temperature began to slowly creep up. Long, straight paths are much more mentally challenging than routes that climb and weave and descend. I was aware that a green flag marked the turn around point, but it just never seemed to materialise, increasing the time and distance I perceived to have run. At least had the relief of ocean views and that Cali sunshine.
Arriving at the start tents I signed up and claimed my number, attaching it without having to redo it like usual. I got speaking to a guy named Kevin who had just introduced himself out of nowhere. It was refreshing how nice people were. He asked if I’d be running a sub 7:00/mile pace, and if I’d like to run with him. I said I could give it a go, but given the recent flight, snotty nose and phlegmy throat, I wasn’t holding any hope. I took a few more sips of water and left my pack with the run organisers, and then got chatting with the race photographer. A woman called Nina, she used to live in London but moved to LA in search of more sun. She gave me tips to stay safe in San Francisco (our next stop), and avoid getting the rental car broken into.

The pre-race briefing happened immediately before the race started. A woman dressed in a chipmunk costume (the store said it was a groundhog), talked us through the course. 5k runners do the loop once, 10k runners do it twice, and keep an eye out for 10 mile and half marathon runners who had started about 30 minutes prior. And like that we were running, immediately taking a sharp right turn onto the beach path. I got a little confused and ended up on the bike path and had to hop back over to the pedestrian side. Kevin immediately pulled away and, in my heart, I knew that that wasn’t a pace I could sustain. I just listened to my breathing and kept it steady, riding the perceived limit of what I could maintain without deteriorating. Somehow, for the first time in my life, it worked. The race didn’t fly-by by any means, it felt like an eternity. Having already run seven or so kilometres to the start line I was thirsty, especially not being used to the warm LA morning. I had a 5k runner on my heels for the entirety of the first lap until I decided to stop for a swig of Gatorade from the aid station where he passed me, and I clung to his heels. He slowly pulled away for a final push to win the 5k race, despite Kevin having already rounded the start, unofficially taking the 5k win too!

I missed having a shadow on my second lap. Having somebody breathing down your neck is a great motivator to keep going. Yet, I somehow did just that, slowly building the pace as I went. Not by much mind, about five seconds per kilometre quicker despite stopping to neck Gatorade twice more under the sun. My heart pounded, reaching the 190’s. I sped up again, the finish coming into view. My legs turned over, and then slower. I had pushed a smidge too early, but I kept fighting to round the final corner, narrowly passing by a 5k runner to take 2nd place.

This event was a very pleasant surprise. It was small and had a super friendly atmosphere, the location was something out of Grand Theft Auto (in a pretty way), and it wasn’t on the radar of actually quick runners, so I can experience the podium of a 10k at least once in my life! It was a super cool feeling to PB on the other side of the world, but can’t help think what could have been had I not done it with pneumonia! (as I found out on my return to the UK).


Stats
Official time: 43:05
Distance: 10.00km
Elevation: 8m
Average Pace: 4:19/km
Average Speed: 13.9kmph
Average HR: 186bpm