Epic Run Course Map/Description/Cheat Sheet (3ish miles)-5/24/15

We'll run an easy 1/2 mile to Julius Kahn Park from A Runner's Mind. We'll do a few range of motion drills before starting the run. 

Epic Run 3ish Miles Course Map

-Launch from Julius Kahn Park. Follow dirt trail towards Arguello. Turn right on Arguello. 
-Shortly after turning right you will cross the street and veer left onto Bay Area Ridge Trail.
-Continue on Bay Area Ridge Trail (Look for signs and flour markings).
-You'll follow Bay Area Ridge Trail across Park Avenue. Roughly a 1/4 mile later look for flour markings on your RIGHT and continue following Bay Area Ridge Trail to Rob Hill Campground (it will be on your left). 
-At Rob Hill Campground, run on the paved path for a brief stretch and turn LEFT onto Washington Boulevard. 
-Run along Washington for 1/10th of a mile and cross over to Immigrant Point Overlook for an EPIC view! Turn around and head back the way you came until you reach our starting point at Julius Kahn Park!
-Head back to A Runner's Mind for Hint Water, Mamma Chia, BEER, and raffle prizes!

Score $30 off all 2015 programs through EOD TODAY!

GET $30 OFF FULL-TIME PARTICIPATION WITH THE 'ROADWARRIOR30'! 

From NOW until 11:59 tomorrow, I am extending you $30 off full-time participation in ANY/ALL of my 2015 programs! 

The promotional code to use is ROADWARRIOR30

GET $15 OFF PART-TIME PARTICIPATION WITH THE 'ROADWARRIOR15'!

Additionally, I am extending a $15 off part-time participation in ANY/ALL of my 2015 programs through EOD Sunday! 

The promotional code to use is ROADWARRIOR15.

Below are links to all of the programs I have lined up for 2015. Sign up for one, more, or all of them!

Rock The Bay 13.1 launches on Sun, 1/18/15! 

Spring 13.1 launches on  Sat, 2/14/15!

The City 13.1 launches on Sat, 5/16/15!

Halloween 13.1 launches on Sat, 8/15/15!

Touchdown 13.1 launches on Sat, 11/14/15!

I run because it is not about me...

I made a choice ten years ago. I chose to launch a business that would inspire others to run. I could have chosen otherwise.

I could have focused on becoming the best runner I could possibly be. I could have invested solely in my own goals. I could have focused my energies on myself.

There's nothing wrong with being selfish. Most people put themselves first. You have to look out for number one.

But, this is not how you inspire others. I could not achieve my own goals and inspire others. A compromise had to be made.

So, I made it. My goals took a backseat. My chance at becoming a great marathoner was always a bit of a longshot anyway.

The new goal became getting as many people as possible to run. Get as many people as possible to drink the kool aid. Running is the answer.

Show people that when you run, you are the best version of yourself. Show them that you are a hero when you run. Show them that just showing up can take you far.

I showed up sick as a dog. I showed up hobbled. I showed up on crutches. I showed up many times when I really didn't want to be there.

The important thing was to simply show up. The mere act of showing up would inspire. It would send a message.

Run, walk, or crawl. Just show up. Eventually, good things will happen.

Despite fatigue, despite sadness, despite despair,  I showed up. It was never about me. It was about them.

I put on a brave face when I felt weak. I betrayed no doubts. I faked it when I had to countless times.

I did all of this for them. It was never for me. They were what mattered.

More important than any personal goals was the spreading of the message. My job was to infect. The spreading of the disease is what mattered.

I used whatever was at my disposal. I used whatever gifts I had. The disease spread.

Nearly a decade later, I keep showing up. I keep running. I keep infecting.

It's not about stroking my own ego. It never has been. It's about spreading the disease.

It's about making others believe they are capable of more than they think they are. It's about opening the door to dreams.

So, I show up tired. I show up sick. I show up wounded. I just fucking show up.

I run because it is not about me....

I run because I dream....

I was a soccer player. I wasn't a runner. I didn't know anyone who did this. Then, I ran ten miles. Doors opened.

I couldn't find my distance. I struggled with the 400. The 800 wasn't clicking. The mile wasn't for me either. Then, I won a race. The doors opened wider.

It had been years since I had done any real running. I was older. I doubted my body would comply.

My coach always thought I'd be a great marathoner. Forget great. Just run one. 26.2 miles later, Dreams took root.

Qualifying for Boston is the dream of countless runners. I was on the threshold of it. I had done the work, but nothing is promised.

This was a dream I wanted desperately. The stomach complained. The ankle buckled. I gritted my teeth and finished. More dreams emerged.

Breaking three hours for the marathon seemed almost mythic. But, I had come close in my Boston qualifying effort despite a litany of challenges. If the stars aligned, maybe one more dream could come true. I crossed the line and dreamed on.

I wasn't happy. I was going through the motions. I couldn't continue this way. I couldn't see myself a year from now let alone five, ten, or twenty.

I dreamed of doing something I loved and getting paid to do it. It was a pipe dream, but I had lived a few dreams already, why not one more?

It started with an ad in Craigslist. I didn't know if I could pull it off. It was a long shot.

I conquered a marathon. I qualified for Boston. I broke three hours for the marathon. I pushed forward. All dreams start somewhere.

A year later, I was swimming in credit card debt. I couldn't run. There was little hope to be had.

I had been to dark places many times before while running 26.2. I had battled back from the brink before. I got back on my feet. My dream wasn't done yet.

I had come so far. I had snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. But, I didn't know where else this dream could take me.

I didn't know where else I could take it. I didn't know how I could go farther. I did know I wasn't ready to wake up yet.

Creating an event takes money I don't have. It takes resources I don't have. It takes knowledge and experience I don't have.

It's daunting. It's intimidating. So is the marathon and I made that dream a reality.

There are thousands of books out there. There are thousands of writers who are better than me. There are countless who have tried this and failed.

I do the only thing I know how to do. I write a page. I write another. I remember a marathon starts small. It starts with a mile. I dream on.

It was all a dream ten years ago. It's no different today. I run because I dream.

I run because I need to uncage the rage..

It roils up inside of me uninvited. All I can see is red. I try to keep it in check. I take a few breaths.

It's not working. I want to jump out of my skin. I want to howl at the top of my lungs.

But, this is not how an adult behaves. I am civilized. I remind myself of this.

Still the rage burns inside of me. It eats my insides. It's still hungry. It is insatiable.

Angry, destructive thoughts explode like a mushroom cloud. My brow furrows. A darkness overcomes me.

The dark side beckons. This is the side that helped land me in the principal's office as a kid countless times. The dark side has destroyed friendships.

It grins darkly begging me to let it take care of things for me. We must make it right. There must be retribution. Someone will pay.

My vision blurs as I start to lose myself. Everything is hazy. This will not end well.

I will say things I regret. I will do things I cannot take back. This road doesn't lead to anything but oblivion.

I take a deep breath and hold it for as long as I can. Maybe I can simply hold my breath and the darkness will die of oxygen deprivation. It grins evilly back at me knowing that this won't work.

Just let go. Let me take the reins. You know you want to. The beast is an insidious, persistent fuck.

The adrenaline courses through my veins. The fight or flight instinct consumes me. The urge to fight is nearly insurmountable.

Somehow I manage to take flight. I may have run faster before, but I don't know when. I may have run harder, but it's been awhile.

The beast's smile fades a bit and I smile back darkly. I am in control. I am the one who handles the reins.

I push even harder. The beast winces. The adrenaline starts to fade away. I gasp with every stride.

Heads turn as I run roughshod across road and trail. Nothing is chasing me. There is just a demon that needs to be exorcised.

He's pained and grimacing. Used to getting his way, this is a battle he's losing. This is a battle I can't afford to lose.

I reach the finish line a sweating, gasping mess. I stagger around trying to collect myself. The demon whimpers pathetically in a dark corner.

The adrenaline is spent. The flight consumed all of it. I am still standing, barely.

The demon skulks away defeated. He vows to return. I smile back at him daring him to push my buttons again.

I run because I need to uncage the rage...

I run because I need a vacation...

In my former cube circumscribed existence, work mostly started and ended at the door. I worked on the weekends occasionally. But, the start and end of my work was usually clearly defined.

I left it behind and I threw myself into my business on a wing and a prayer. I had no business plan. Everything was trial by fire.

I came to learn that if I didn't hustle, I didn't get paid. No paycheck was coming every two weeks. Hustle or die.

Vacation time and paid time off are a distant memory. Insurance is on me. Retirement is on me.

It is all on me. The business is a living, breathing entity. It needs constant care. It requires constant attention.

I understand why most don't have the stomach for it. It is all consuming. It is a 24/7 deal.

Nearly a decade later, much has changed. What I created via a craigslist ad in my cube now sustains me. It has taken me places I never could have imagined.

But, the constant hustle remains. Vacations are few and far between. So, I get creative.

The urge to take time off can be pronounced. The desire to put it all aside and escape can be ardent. I find a way.

The destination is just a few miles from here in any direction I choose. Whether it's sunny or rainy, I am always at peace there. It's always therapeutic.

It's never a lengthy vacation. I don't have that luxury. Most would never describe my short jaunts as vacations.

But, they always give me what I need. They provide an escape. They provide a holiday. They recharge.

I am also reconnected with the heart of my business. I am reminded of why I do what I do. I get to be the personification of my business.

The beauty is I get to take a vacation every day. Sometimes, I get lucky and take a vacation multiple times a day.  No one has it better than me.

I run because I need a vacation.

I run because I believe....

My first season of cross country was rife with epiphanies. I discovered I was a runner. I learned I had a potent weapon in a finishing kick. I also fell in love with running.

Thanksgiving was rapidly approaching. With its arrival came the annual 'Gobble Wobble' race. I had run it the previous year when I was a pretender.

I had managed to place 20th. It was a respectable result given my relative inexperience and lack of training. But, I was a runner now. I was a contender.

I was hungry for more. I wasn't out for a respectable finish. I was out to win it all.

There was nothing at stake at this race. There was no prize for whoever finished first. There were no real bragging rights associated with winning the Gobble Wobble.

I had accomplished many things my first season of cross country. But, winning a race had not been one of these things.

As a former soccer player, scoring a goal was an incredible rush of adrenaline and ecstasy. I loved running, but I had yet to find something analogous with running. I thought winning might provide what I was looking for.

I had no real reason to believe I could win. I had no idea who was toeing the line that day. I'd only really had a few months of training under my belt.

But, I wanted to win. I wanted to find out if I could. I believed I could.

The gun fired and countless surged out in front of me. I relaxed and let them go. If I wanted to win, I had to run my race.

Within half a mile, many of them started fading. I moved up from 20th to 15th position. There were still many in front of me, but there were many miles to go.

I breathed deeply. I did my best to stay relaxed. I was counting on my finishing kick to win this.

As long as I continued to gradually make my way towards the front, I had a shot. If I simply hung around, I could wear the field down. I didn't know who was in front of me, but I believed I could take anyone.

I moved up a few more spots and found myself within striking distance of the lead pack. I could see them off in the distance. There were three of them.

I honed in on their turnover and tried to pull them in. Slowly, inexorably they started to get closer. I could see no one in front of them.

We approached the most daunting hill of the race and I was nearly on their heels. To pass them going uphill would be a devastating blow. I made my move.

They gasped as I glided past them. I betrayed none of the fatigue I was feeling. I did my best to maintain a poker face. Behind the facade, I was running on fumes.

I crested the hill and flew down the other side. My legs churned furiously trying to put distance between myself and those behind me. I could hear them.

A half a mile was all that stood between me and the finish line. Victory was nearly mine. Fear induced adrenaline kept the wheels turning. They weren't letting up, but neither was I.

The finish line approached. I threw my head back and took a deep breath. It was time to finish this.

I let it all hang out. I unleashed my kick. As close as they were, I knew they had little chance of passing me if I could just keep it together for a few more seconds.

I careened across the finish line. I held them off. I had pulled it off. I bent over and gasped.

I caught my breath and lifted my head. A woman handed me a ribbon. It said '2nd place'. I had fallen one place shy of victory.

The rush of adrenaline and ecstasy I sought would have to wait a bit longer. But, I had come closer to victory than I ever had before. I had reason to believe.

It wasn't a question of if I would win a race, but win. I had nearly pulled it off by just believing I could. I wasn't going to stop believing now.

I run because I believe....