Beach Running “Championships” Half-Marathon Race Report
Where: Cocoa Beach, Florida
Date: May 5, 2018
Distance: 13.1 miles
I don’t know why this race is called the Beach Running Championships. There are no qualifications that registrants have to meet, but I guess it sounded neat for the t-shirt, so here we are! As a slow, non-championship type runner, I feel kind of silly when I wear the race shirt, but it’s white and super lightweight, which makes it great for running in the heat and sun.
Training:
When my boyfriend and I signed up for this race we had high hopes that we would become Beach Running Pros™ and make it out for at least 5 beach runs before the race. Welp, that didn’t happen. We made it out to the beach once. We left home later than we wanted, so when we finally got there at noon it was hot, busy, and the tide was coming in. I think I managed 5.5 (very hungover) miles before we packed it in. Life then got in the way and we never made it back out to the beach until race day.
Pre-Race:
We stayed at a hotel a quarter mile from the park where the race starts, so we walked over, made a stop at the porta-potty and went onto the beach. There we learned there were 1300 people running, but only 200 of those were running the half (the other 1100 were doing the 10k – we even saw a couple people pinning their 10k bibs to their jeans, yikes!). I found the 2:20 and 2:30 pacers (my goal was to finish under 2:30) and my boyfriend left to go to the bathroom again. My decision not to try to go to the bathroom again would haunt me the entire race.
Miles 0-7.9
The first two miles breezed by pretty nicely until I noticed I really did have to go pee again. I remembered that the website had said that since porta-potties couldn’t be on the beach itself, they would have signs directing people to off-beach parks where there were restrooms, so I decided to start looking for one those as I ran.
I believe it was around the 4.5-5 mile mark I started to see a couple people going in the opposite direction. Knowing my boyfriend is a speedy runner and his HM time is pretty close to the times of past winners of this race, I started to count how many people passed by. I saw 9 people go by before I saw him running towards me; we did our typical, “WOOOOOOO!” and high five that we do when we cross paths running at races and training runs.
Mile 5 is when the shore started to get rough. It was more slanted and covered in seaweed than the previous miles and there was a lot more dodging of incoming waves. So far my feet were still dry, so I was still making an effort to run up the shore when big waves came in. The turnaround was a beautiful sight! I had unexpectedly started my ladytimes the day before and had been cramping pretty solidly, so I was very eager to get this race over with. I also hadn’t seen any of the promised restrooms and I was desperate to pee. The sound of the crashing waves didn’t help at all. With the mile 8 marker in my sights, my bladder finally gave out.
Miles 8-13.1
Yep. I peed myself. Full on, streaming down my legs into the bottoms of my shoes, peed myself. I felt 100% better and 100% worse at the same time. There was literally nothing I could do but get myself the remaining 5.1 miles back to the finish line. Since my shoes were already wet, I let some of the waves hit my feet. Better salt water than urine, right?
I felt great for a mile and a half (yay empty bladder!) before the super intense cramps from my ladytimes started (boo endometriosis!). Oh well, I told myself, as long as I keep going, I’ll eventually finish this thing. Around mile 10, I saw the 2:30 pacer with her group of 3 ladies pass me by and it was totally demoralizing. I tried to keep them in my sights, but they just kept going. I literally saw my goal jogging away from me while I walk/jogged(hobbled?) my way to the finish.
A half mile from the end of the race, I saw the 2:30 pacer sitting on the beach, enjoying a bottle of water while wearing her race medal. Again, totally demoralizing to see her completely finished and cooling down. But wait! I checked my phone and strava said I had only been running for 2:24. Was there hope for a sub-2:30 finish?! I would like to say I picked up my pace and sprinted like I hadn’t just run many miserable miles, but that isn’t quite the case. Instead I mentally banned walking and shuffled my way to the finish line to meet my goal!
I enjoyed a couple mimosas, cheered for my boyfriend when he got an age group award, cursed the pacer who finished almost 10 minutes earlier than she should have (I checked the results later), and basked in the glow of having finished this race even though it was personally hellish. Will I ever do this race again? Nah, running on the beach isn’t for me, but if you want a neat experience on a beautiful beach (and have a solid bladder) I say go for it!
Final result 44th female, 105th overall at 2:29:19. My boyfriend ended up 7th overall and first in his age group with a time of 1:38.
Date: May 5, 2018
Distance: 13.1 miles
I don’t know why this race is called the Beach Running Championships. There are no qualifications that registrants have to meet, but I guess it sounded neat for the t-shirt, so here we are! As a slow, non-championship type runner, I feel kind of silly when I wear the race shirt, but it’s white and super lightweight, which makes it great for running in the heat and sun.
Training:
When my boyfriend and I signed up for this race we had high hopes that we would become Beach Running Pros™ and make it out for at least 5 beach runs before the race. Welp, that didn’t happen. We made it out to the beach once. We left home later than we wanted, so when we finally got there at noon it was hot, busy, and the tide was coming in. I think I managed 5.5 (very hungover) miles before we packed it in. Life then got in the way and we never made it back out to the beach until race day.
Pre-Race:
We stayed at a hotel a quarter mile from the park where the race starts, so we walked over, made a stop at the porta-potty and went onto the beach. There we learned there were 1300 people running, but only 200 of those were running the half (the other 1100 were doing the 10k – we even saw a couple people pinning their 10k bibs to their jeans, yikes!). I found the 2:20 and 2:30 pacers (my goal was to finish under 2:30) and my boyfriend left to go to the bathroom again. My decision not to try to go to the bathroom again would haunt me the entire race.
Miles 0-7.9
The first two miles breezed by pretty nicely until I noticed I really did have to go pee again. I remembered that the website had said that since porta-potties couldn’t be on the beach itself, they would have signs directing people to off-beach parks where there were restrooms, so I decided to start looking for one those as I ran.
I believe it was around the 4.5-5 mile mark I started to see a couple people going in the opposite direction. Knowing my boyfriend is a speedy runner and his HM time is pretty close to the times of past winners of this race, I started to count how many people passed by. I saw 9 people go by before I saw him running towards me; we did our typical, “WOOOOOOO!” and high five that we do when we cross paths running at races and training runs.
Mile 5 is when the shore started to get rough. It was more slanted and covered in seaweed than the previous miles and there was a lot more dodging of incoming waves. So far my feet were still dry, so I was still making an effort to run up the shore when big waves came in. The turnaround was a beautiful sight! I had unexpectedly started my ladytimes the day before and had been cramping pretty solidly, so I was very eager to get this race over with. I also hadn’t seen any of the promised restrooms and I was desperate to pee. The sound of the crashing waves didn’t help at all. With the mile 8 marker in my sights, my bladder finally gave out.
Miles 8-13.1
Yep. I peed myself. Full on, streaming down my legs into the bottoms of my shoes, peed myself. I felt 100% better and 100% worse at the same time. There was literally nothing I could do but get myself the remaining 5.1 miles back to the finish line. Since my shoes were already wet, I let some of the waves hit my feet. Better salt water than urine, right?
I felt great for a mile and a half (yay empty bladder!) before the super intense cramps from my ladytimes started (boo endometriosis!). Oh well, I told myself, as long as I keep going, I’ll eventually finish this thing. Around mile 10, I saw the 2:30 pacer with her group of 3 ladies pass me by and it was totally demoralizing. I tried to keep them in my sights, but they just kept going. I literally saw my goal jogging away from me while I walk/jogged(hobbled?) my way to the finish.
A half mile from the end of the race, I saw the 2:30 pacer sitting on the beach, enjoying a bottle of water while wearing her race medal. Again, totally demoralizing to see her completely finished and cooling down. But wait! I checked my phone and strava said I had only been running for 2:24. Was there hope for a sub-2:30 finish?! I would like to say I picked up my pace and sprinted like I hadn’t just run many miserable miles, but that isn’t quite the case. Instead I mentally banned walking and shuffled my way to the finish line to meet my goal!
I enjoyed a couple mimosas, cheered for my boyfriend when he got an age group award, cursed the pacer who finished almost 10 minutes earlier than she should have (I checked the results later), and basked in the glow of having finished this race even though it was personally hellish. Will I ever do this race again? Nah, running on the beach isn’t for me, but if you want a neat experience on a beautiful beach (and have a solid bladder) I say go for it!
Final result 44th female, 105th overall at 2:29:19. My boyfriend ended up 7th overall and first in his age group with a time of 1:38.