While the unexpected weather was clearly to blame, Krakauer's book lays out the myriad little mistakes that aggregated into disaster. Last Saturday, I learned that lesson for myself, although my outcome was fortunately significantly less tragic.
Our goal was to run 16 miles around Mission Bay in San Diego. Having navigated portions of the paved bike bath before, I thought the route would be pretty cut and dry (my first mistake). I researched on Google Maps and saw that the southern portion by Sea World seemed like it could be a little hairy. The bike path diverted from the water and ran along a few large boulevards, but it looked like once we were over the Ventura Bridge on Mission Bay Drive, we'd pick up the route easily enough (my second mistake).
I thought my third mistake would have been running the day after eating Chinese food for dinner, but all the steamed white rice I ate proved to be decent fuel. So instead I'll assign mistake number three to trying out a new energy shot during the run. A likes chews; I prefer gels. We compromised and got chews with gel inside, specifically Powerbar Energy Blasts. I do not recommend. They don't go down well. As with most compromises, no one ended up happy.
Our fourth mistake was forgetting our Garmin running watch. I was upset when I realized I left it at home, but I tried to find the silver lining by thinking at least it would take the pressure off us regarding pace and we could work on form and stamina.
The run started off well. It was overcast and cold, perfect conditions for me. I was also pleased to see that the bike path unfolded seamlessly before us like a road of yellow bricks. We turned onto Fiesta Island, still running strong. As we ran along the eastern side of the island, we could see in the near distance the bridge we would soon be crossing, the foot of which would be the 10 mile mark.
After finishing the Fiesta Island loop, we rejoined the bike path and headed along Sea World Drive, the area I thought would be problematic. Instead, the bike path was well marked and lead us right to the bridge, which we ran with happy hearts, thinking we only had 6 miles to go. Little did we know that we just made our fifth and most fatal mistake.
After crossing the bridge, I immediately saw another bridge ahead but no turn-off to rejoin the bike path. This was alarming since when I mapped our route I vaguely remembered we were only supposed to cross one bridge (the bridge to Fiesta Island notwithstanding), and certainly not two in succession.
Instead of crossing the second bridge, we ran across a lawn to reach the water and resume the bike path. I soon had second thoughts because I couldn't figure out how we would get across the body of water that the second bridge traversed. So I told A I was probably misremembering and that we should cross the second bridge after all. We ran back and got to the apex, where A surveyed the situation and said that he thought the bike path was right because he saw where the land connected in the distance. So we turned around again and ran down the bridge and back onto the bike path.
We ran for a while but the landscape quickly changed. The path had disintegrated into patches of cracked concrete covered by sand. Suddenly we were running behind fancy patios belonging to units of a beachfront resort. This wasn't concerning since I vaguely thought I remembered rollerblading around this area years ago, although I could be thinking of another place entirely.
Finally, we had to acknowledge there was no bike path left and we could run no further. A turned into the resort, still running, and tried to lead the way back to the public domain. Instead, we jogging straight into the heart of privilege, ending up smack dab in the middle of the outdoor dining area of the resort's "legendary beachfront restaurant".
After dodging a waiter with a tray full of mimosas and being gawked at by a diner whose fork was stopped dead in its tracks en route to his mouth, still dripping with the runny yolk of his eggs benedict, we finally accepted the fact that we probably didn't belong here. We asked the hostess to point us in the direction of the bike path and she asked, "You mean, you want to leave the resort?" as if it was completely natural to do laps during the crowded brunch service. She suggested we visit the taxi stand, where the drivers waiting for big ticket fares directed us to the boulevard that led back to the errant bridge.
We crossed the second bridge. I knew something was wrong, but at this point I was so mentally spent that once we found the semblance of a bike path that seemed to be in the right direction, we jumped on. I knew it was far short of our 16 miles, but I was hoping to have run at least 14.5.
We eventually made it back to our starting place. While A was showering, I did the forensics of what went wrong. Turns out we did get lost along the southern route and took the wrong bridge entirely, bisecting the bay instead of running around it. We only ran 13 miles, dishearteningly low considering how tired we were. Another point Krakauer makes in his book is how one's mental state affects physical stamina.
All the little mistakes - not reading the map properly, not notating what street we were on, not having the Garmin to let us know our mileage wasn't where it should be - lead to our busted run. this weekend we're not leaving much up to chance, planning a fool-proof route that you don't need to be an expert mountain climber to navigate. Hopefully we won't get lost.
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