The Rock And Roll San Diego Marathon wasn’t my first choice. It was a redemption race, a chance to overcome the disappointment of a DNF (Did Not Finish) two months prior at the Revel Mt. Charleston Marathon. This San Diego race was local, logistically simple, and familiar territory, having run it before. My training was low-key until a few weeks before the event. This race was about finishing, not about time.
Pre-Race Jitters at the Rock and Roll San Diego Marathon
The 6:15 am start time meant a 4:00 am wake-up call. After parking and the usual pre-race routines, a wave of panic hit me near the Balboa Park starting line. The DNF from April, the “monkey on my back,” resurfaced. I felt the familiar symptoms of a panic attack: nausea, shortness of breath, overwhelming heat. Doubts flooded my mind, and I even considered dropping to the half marathon.
My husband’s support and my own mental pep talk helped. I reminded myself of past successes, like completing a 50k. This was just another long run, with no pressure. Connecting with friends provided a much-needed distraction, and the panic eventually subsided.
A tired but determined runner before the Rock ‘n’ Roll San Diego Marathon.
Running the Rock and Roll San Diego Marathon
My strategy was to divide the race into fourths, maintaining an easy pace for the first quarter. I ran by feel, relying on the clock rather than GPS to avoid fixating on pace and distance. Around mile 4.5, doubts crept in, so I used a podcast as a distraction until mile 6.55, where I planned to increase my effort.
At mile 6.55, music replaced the podcast, and I picked up the pace. I maintained this effort through the halfway point. While I still avoided focusing on specific numbers, the pressure of my previous DNF and unmet goals lingered. I had to remind myself that this race was about finishing strong, regardless of time. Releasing that pressure was a game-changer.
Feeling good through this section was a victory, especially since mile 14 had been a breaking point during my 2022 Rock and Roll San Diego run. The stretch along Mission Bay was uneventful, visually uninspiring, and mentally challenging. The hope of spotting a friend cheering along the course helped to keep my mind occupied.
The Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon course map highlights the challenging incline at miles 19-20 and the significant hill at mile 21.5.
A long incline around mile 19, which I’d forgotten about, tested my resolve. Then came the notorious climb up Highway 163 at mile 22. I ran more than half of it, conquering it two minutes faster than in 2022. The feeling of accomplishment was exhilarating.
Celebrating at the top of the 163 hill during the Rock ‘n’ Roll San Diego Marathon.
The downhill to the finish was a welcome relief. My legs were eager, but my stomach protested the faster pace. I slowed down, acknowledging I should have fueled better. With less than two miles remaining, I pushed on, remembering my struggle in this section during the previous race. Passing other runners in the final stretch was empowering.
At mile 25.9, a hill reminiscent of Chicago’s Mount Roosevelt loomed. This time, fueled by a promise to a friend to run the entire finish, I conquered it. I sprinted the last 0.2 miles, crossing the finish line with a surge of pride, joy, and relief. This wasn’t just a race; it was a triumph over self-doubt and a testament to resilience. The photos capture the pure elation of that moment far better than words ever could.
The joy of crossing the finish line at the Rock and Roll San Diego Marathon.
