I can sum up my entire Malibu half-marathon experience in one word: “Yikes”. Obviously, this being a forum for me to educate you on my opinions so you can formulate your OWN opinions, I should be more specific as to how and why I came to this conclusion.
Let’s start with the marathon pre-registration. I was lead to a fantastic Groupon deal that gave me 50% off the race fee. With a deal like that, there was no way I was gonna NOT sign up. I had a group of friends that were training and racing as well so it was bound to be a fun race. In fact, one of my friends hadn’t ever run longer than 3 miles in his life so to see him train and complete the half marathon was certainly something I needed to post on GingerRunner.com. It’s proof in the poudin’ that we can do ANYTHING if we put our mind to it! Anything other than making this race fun for me.
All this hate didn’t start at registration. I was stoked to be running this race from day 1. Imagine running along the Pacific Ocean directly on the PCH with nothing but views forever – and indeed it was beautiful. The hate began at the bib pick-up.
Here’s a tip, Malibu race coordinators, they’re called signs. Use them. Put them up to tell people where to go. In fact, when you plan on putting your bib pick-up at the northern most end of a 3+ mile long parking lot along the ocean, either tell us on your website, in an email, or PUT UP A SIGN. We ended up driving into the parking lot, getting stopped by the gate operator and asked to pay $8. I asked if this was indeed where we picked up the bibs, and she confirmed. Not one to pay for parking, I opted to turn around and search for street parking as there was nary a car parked in the vacant car lot.
We found a spot within yards of the main gate, so we started walking. And walking. Aaaand walking. About a mile into it, without seeing ANY sign of a crowd, sponsor trucks, or an “expo”, we turned around and figured we had arrived at the wrong parking lot contrary to lil miss lot attendant. As we drove further north (3 miles at least) we FINALLY spotted a tiny row of camping/event tents. We were able to park along the PCH avoiding that damn $8 fee, walked up to the table, got our bibs, turned to guage our interest in the sponsors and opted to leave. I also asked a race rep about corrals (having just finished the 30,000+ participant Disney Half, I had no idea how big this race was) and if the race would utilize them or if they had a special start-line procedure. He obviously didn’t understand because the word, “Corral” had to be repeated no less than 10 times before he responded with, “Yeah, the half-marathon race start is 13.1 miles up there”. Hmm. The whole process, transportation, parking, etc. took more than 4 hours. Strike 1, Malibu Half-Marathon.
After drowning our afternoon debacle in some carbo-loading and laughing at our parking ignorance (I now blame the sign-less entry and mental parking lady), we prepped for Sunday’s race by sleeping. We’d need the rest because of how early we’d have to rise on Sunday morning. The race start was scheduled for 8:30am, we had to arrive at least an hour in advance to catch the last bus to the start line (they have you park at the finish, it’s a point-to-point race) and we knew parking/traffic was gonna be a beyatch. We figured an hour drive to the lot, and another 20 min. to get a spot.
It only took 45 min. to get to the parking lot we’d visited the Friday previous, but the line of cars to get into the lot was SO damn long that it took us over an hour to get in, find a spot, and run to the bus line. Want to know why? The parking lot has 8 lanes for cars to enter by, however, only 2 were open. Oh, and it was cash only (no signs). Strike 2, Malibu Half-Marathon.
We parked and hurriedly got ourselves together. I opted to leave my handheld hydration in the car for after the race since I knew there were going to be plenty of waterstations along the route. By the time we finally got into line, we were well beyond the 7:30 cut-off point. Thankfully, race officials were aware of the parking issues and had busses still shuttling runners to the half-marathon start line. The shuttle took us the entire 13.1 miles to the start (note: driving a marathon/half-marathon course minutes before you run it = daunting to say the least) and dropped us off at the beach. Now I realized why the volunteer on Friday didn’t understand what I meant by corrals. There were maybe a few hundred people standing on the beach in the sand waiting to run. It was hardly a Disneyland-size crowd. I was able to relax, found my friends, and got pumped up and focused for the race ahead. My only goal was to beat my Disneyland time.
By 8:20, the California sun was blazing down on us. What I thought would be a comfortable seaside run, was turning into a genuine roast-fest. I slipped my arm warmers down around my wrists and began wishing I had brought my handheld racing bottle for some hydration. I could already feel the need for liquids. Then the crowd started cheering loudly. I looked at the PCH course and saw the 1st place marathoner running past our start-line. Then it dawned on me, the half-marathoners were going to start just before a majority of the full marathoners were going to pass the half-way mark. Oh man, I would HATE to run the first half of my marathon fighting for position, only to have to run into an entirely new sea of runners in the second half. Why don’t the start both races at the same time? Or even let the half-marathoners start first. Ugh, strike 3, Malibu Half-Marathon.
Then our race was about to begin. We all swarmed the tiny start line and waited for the announcement. 3. 2. 1. Boom. We were off. Instantly my mouth dried up completely due to lack of hydration and heat. I’d never had that happen before – it was dryer than a nuns cooch in there. I had to get to the first water station, and fast. Luckily I knew it was at mile 1.5. The problem was, so did everyone else. When we all got there, I think we all sensed the problem. The table with water was a tiny poker table. The person handing out water, was a child. No cups had been filled, but rather stacked for us to grab. The giant water jugs were being grabbed by runners, opened, guzzled from, then handed to the next runner. Including me. It was the only way any of us were getting hydrated. I still remember that poor kid standing at the table unable to satiate the onslaught of dehydrated runners. His face was priceless. If baseball allowed 4 strikes, Malibu Half-Marathon, this would be it.
As the race went on, I became more and more affected by the hot sun, heat, and lack of proper hydration. None of the water stops provided coconut water when asked, but rather half full cups of warm water. That’s the problem with choosing an electrolyte drink that’s transparent like water I guess. I knew I’d still finish, but not in record time. I decided to just focus on getting to the last 2.2 miles, which according to to the Malibu Half-Marathon elevation map I’d studied, was downhill and would allow me a fairly decent kick home.
Once I arrived at mile 11, I knew Malibu had F’d up again. I still had 2 good size hills to conquer before reaching the last .8 miles which is where the REAL downhill started. But by that point, I was so depleted, I had nothing left to kick with and struggled to cross the finish line without throwing my stomach’s contents onto the crowd. Strike 5, Malibu Half-Marathon.
Once I got it together enough to stand, grab a finisher’s medal and a banana, I thought it would be a good idea to go to my car and try to move it closer to the finish line so that when Mile Long Legs finished, we wouldn’t have to walk far in order to get the F outta dodge. I spent a good 20 minutes looking for parking again before I found a spot 2 over from where I originally had parked. Strike 1, GingerRunner.
As I stood at the finish line waiting for my friends and MLL to finish, I could see many runners crossing the finish line in tears or completely dilapidated. It was obvious I wasn’t the only victim of the heat and sun. In fact, in the time I stood there waiting, I saw more than 8 ambulances racing north on the PCH to pick up injured/dehydrated/sun-stroked runners only to return to the finish line and drop them off at the med tent. Maybe I was delirious, but if I saw ambulances pass me every minute or so while I was running, I can only imagine how it would effect my running moral and confidence.
When I saw MLL’s face running down the finish lane, I knew she was hurting. As soon as she crossed the line, we got her water, some food, and sat her down immediately to assess the damage. It was obvious dehydration (she’d gone through all of her belt bottles) and sun stroke played a large part in her suffering. It was time to head home and call it a race.
On the plus side, my friends who also ran enjoyed themselves immensely. They raced slow and easy, took in the sites, and were oblivious to a lot of the concerns I had about the race. When I presented them with my problems, they were stunned I had had such a negative experience. So take that as you will.
Bottom line: I have many problems with this race. Many. I want to chalk it up to this being their second year as a sanctioned race, but I can only hope they take the time to make the 3rd year exceptional. If they decide to contact me and ask me to race it again, I surely hope they’ve addressed the issues above, not only for my sake, but for the sake of the runners who are risking their health by running.
LIKED:
- Location
- Beach Towel & Medal
- Cheap
DISLIKED:
- Lack of proper hydration stations
- Inaccurate elevation chart
- Lack of signage
- Disorganized parking
- Late start-time
RACE SUPPORT: 4/10
RACE ORGANIZATION: 5/10
PRICE: 9/10
BONUS: 6/10 (beach towel! views! medal!)
TOTAL: 24/40
TIME: 1:54:05
PLACE OVERALL: 220/1,699