$350 The Hard Way: Tijuana Travels

Last weekend just might have been the most interesting race experience I have gotten to date. It certainly will be at the top of my list for some time. I hope you are ready for a very interesting story! Drink this story in and if you have had a similar experience I would love to hear about it!


(Too) Early Morning 
Our story starts at 3:30AM when Natasha and I awoke to get ready to head south to the border where we were planning to meet a group that was going to walk across to the race. It was a groggy morning for me, but thankfully my only duties for the day were accompanying Natasha as translator and enjoying the race. We made the quick ride down to the San Ysidro outlets and met with Hector Hernandez (known as "La Flecha" in Tijuana running circles) and our group in the parking lot. At this point we had understood the start time of the race to be 7:30, however Hector informed us that the race had decided to move up the start time to 6:30 just three days prior! I took a quick glance at my watch and noticed it was 5:20, just a little more than an hour to race time and we still weren't across the border! Quickly we shot across the parking lot to the adjacent McDonalds for a quick restroom break before our group of 20 or so people, all clad in racing attire, started hurriedly jogging for the border crossing, Hector at the lead.  


I felt as if we were on a secret mission trying to make a deadline as we ran past the border agents and through the large metal turnstiles. We poured out onto an empty street saved for one passenger bus and a few taxi cabs. Our group filed into the bus and grabbed seats, hoping that we weren't too far from the start of the race, and that we would have enough time to warm up. Our bus still hadn't taken off and everyone had boarded when we began to notice a mob of yellow collared shirts pouring into the street around our bus. I looked around and saw more and more taxis pulling up, guessing there to be at least 30 or more. We could see Hector arguing with the largest fellow of the group, which I took to be the ring leader of this taxi-mob. Hector popped into our bus and announced that the cab drivers weren't going to allow the bus to move with us in it, essentially blockading our vehicle forcing us to use their services. A cunning, if underhanded maneuver. It must have been quite the sight for anyone up early enough to witness 20 or so "gringos" being herded into cabs and rushed away. I directed Natasha and I to the nearest cab and told our driver to take us to the start of the "maraton", hoping his quick reply of yes meant he understood. 


We were at the mercy of our driver as he whizzed by slower traffic, weaving in and out. It was a short trip to race hotel that sat at the start of the race. After our cab arrived, one by one the others in our groups emerged from their rides as the pulled in quickly to the large traffic circle that was serving as our impromptu drop off point. I gave our driver a few bucks (there aren't running fares in Tijuana cabs) and we began jogging behind Hector again to the room he had secured to use as our base camp. We were less than 30 minutes away from the re-scheduled start so Natasha and I consolidated our bags and she began warming up in our hallway and adjacent courtyard - since we had yet to safely determine where the start was. Finally, after everyone had dropped off their things and taken their last bathroom stops I closed up the room (I was also helping out as room key holder). Now, armed with my media pass and shirt I followed Natasha and the others to the start. 


The Race! (The easy part) 
We had been informed that both the marathon and half-marathon (Natasha's race) would be beginning at the same time and follow the same course, with the marathoners completing a second loop. Ok, we thought, pretty confusing but shouldn't be a problem. Ten minutes before 6:30 they made an announcement for all runners to make their way to the start. Natasha made her way over to the front and waited as several men prevented anyone from doing strides as they waited for everything to be ready. For about 20 minutes organizers hurried around finishing up the preparation for the race, putting up banners, tying down the inflatable start line, and completing the main stage. Finally, at 6:50, the announcement was made for the start. I was standing directly in front of the start off to the side and when the starter raised his hand in the air I saw the runners crouch to start. When gun sounded the first line of runners began to fall forward into a slow trot, then several moments later the gun fired and "officially" the race had begun! 


After Natasha and the first wave of runners ran by me I began walking to the only other point in the race I would be able to see the runners pass by other than the finish. I posted up at the 7k mark just a few blocks from the start and as I waited for the runners to come by I noticed that aside from one police officer on the side of the road there was still a lot of traffic on the street designated "race course". As the leaders came by a police escort and media vehicle (which was a pickup truck) was all that came between early morning traffic and the racers. That didn't stop traffic from driving beside the runners however, as cars just drove around runners in the left hand lane. 


Natasha ran by and I snapped a few photos and cheered her on. She was in sixth place no man's land following a pack of Mexico-based Africans in a pack 1-5 ahead of her. After sticking around for a few more minutes I walked back towards the start and finish where I would wait until the runners started coming back around. After a short while the leaders of the half marathon were nearing and I casually glanced at my watch to see what type of time the were going to run and saw it remain in the 58 minute range as the first three runners crossed. No way had I just seen three runners look so casual running almost World Record pace! Turns out that a wrong turn somewhere at four or five miles by the lead vehicle caused the entire field to shave off part of the course. The race officials decided to rectify this by surreptitiously adding one minute to every finishers time - very official. 


Natasha finished in 6th place overall, in a pretty good time, even given the gracious addition by race coordinators. I found her over in the athlete corral with the other top finishers and a long row of massage table where two people used crude massage oil to rapidly rub you down. I believe the throng of people working on the athletes were no more masseuses than I could claim to be, but they were free and worked  quickly. How could we complain, expect for the sticky residue their oil left. After cooling down, we made our way back to the hotel to gather our things and regroup. Hector was competing in the marathon so we had to wait a bit longer before figuring out when results and awards were to be held. Another hour or so later, about 10:30 in the morning at this point, we were told that we shouldn't expect results anytime soon and that awards were going to be held at one, when the mayor of Tijuana would be available to speak. What I had hoped to be a quick race and back across the border was turning out to be a sit and wait affair. 


The Awards - How bad could it be? 
We grabbed breakfast with a group of friends and new acquaintances and then sat in front of the award stage while we waited for 1PM to roll around. Many of the people who had come to run the race had left with the heat of the day arriving except for the few dozen or so people who were anticipating their award and money (this race gave out a ton of money!). Awards finally started, and with about 25 race coordinators crammed on stage they began calling out the overall and age group winners. We finally learned that Natasha had won her age group because the results still hadn't been handed out. She stood on the podium, waved, and hopped back down, happy to finally be done with it after waiting for so long.  We both thought we could just grab a cab back to the border when I asked her where her check for winning was. They hadn't given it to her and now we were directed to a bright red building across the street, primely located by the row of portapotties. 


A heard of people had begun to gather at the door, apparently waiting for something. It turned out that inside the building was the race headquarters and that was where they were writing the checks to be given out to the winners. In twos and threes people were called in and thirty minutes later they came out. The first hour went by like this with only six or seven people being called. The crowd outside the door had now swelled to over forty or fifty people who were now becoming more and more agitated as the heat intensified and the smell of the bathrooms grew worse with every passing breeze. Unfortunately, the officials inside hadn't notified the throng outside that standing in line or shoving their way to the front of the door wouldn't expedite the process because they were randomly calling age group winners. At this point both Natasha and I were tired, she had just ran a race and was now asked to stand out in the heat for several hours. The woman who was calling names finally came came back to the door and I used the chaos that her presence created to lead a small group into the building. We found ourselves in a large air-conditioned room filled with 15 officials and a large table stacked with papers. In the back of the room were what I assumed were the results, posted onto two large flat planks of wood. The woman in charge did not want us in there and after we argued that it was taking them too long to have us out in the heat they relented. We bought ourselves a few minutes to cool off before they insisted we wait outside for our names. Knowing that nothing else could be done if we wanted our money we reluctantly made our way outside, past the all the people now shouting into the building. 


We waited for another forty minutes or so before we saw the other age group winners in Natasha's group push their way into the building. I quickly told Natasha she had to get into the building at all costs if she wanted her money now. She climbed over several people and disappeared through the door. I crossed my fingers that she didn't get spit out again. Another half hour went by and she finally emerged, check in hand (400 dollars worth of pesos and signed by two different people). Exhausted we walked back to the hotel and grabbed a waiting cab to take us to the border. 


The Border- We Can Go Home Right? 
We were so happy to be done with it all, it was 3:30 in the afternoon and we could go home and relax, we had survived Mexico. The cab dropped us off and we jumped out, happy to be going home. Unfortunately, we weren't the only ones trying to walk back across the border, and we had wait in line with the hundred other or so souls doing the same. Finally, an hour later, we had conquered the day. We dragged our tired and sweaty bodies the two or so miles to our car and drove home. Luckily we were able to laugh about our southern adventure - but I don't imagine any time soon we will be doing it again. If you are ever bored of the typical race day routine I suggest you book a ticket to Tijuana, they will not disappoint. If you have made it this far in my story I hope you enjoyed it. Cheers!