Los Angeles, the most baseball marathon of all

Everything pointed to the end of the Venice marathon, five months ago, repeating itself and there would be no energy left to accelerate the last kilometers of the Los Angeles course. The ending was different.

Still in memory is the course on Italian soil where I felt like I was flying and where I only waited for the 30-kilometer mark to start running faster and register a time that would never be forgotten. Nothing could be further from the truth, I ran out of gas and had to stop several times before crossing the finish line.

And I still remember it clearly, perhaps more for how quickly I signed up for another marathon than for the sensation of passing kilometers 20, 25, 30 and thinking that 42.195 kilometers would be few compared to how strong I felt.

It all began at Dodger Stadium, one of the three oldest and most beautiful Major League Baseball stadiums. This is one of the two reasons why I had to run here at some point.

The prelude to this marathon we experienced in the stands of the stadium which already displayed the logos of the World Baseball Classic that would begin the next day with the Semi-Final between the teams from Holland and Puerto Rico. As always, Vero by my side and this time, I saw her stronger than ever.

My friend Rolando was the novelty that morning and the reason why we were minutes away from starting our second marathon in less than six months. He was the second reason to participate in the race.

Rolando dared to sign up in December for what would be his first race of this kind and invited us to accompany him. His audacity to cover the distance of this competition was an additional ingredient that served, at the same time, as motivation and stress.

We met when we were 11 years old and baseball was the meeting point. We first represented the Larrea School team and then the Lomalinda League team in Hermosillo, Sonora.

We also defended the state jacket on several occasions in national tournaments in different parts of the country; he was selected for the national team several times and the closest I managed to accompany him at those levels was when we were called to the National Baseball Pre-Selection training in Mexico City in the 90s.

We studied high school in Arizona, where we went to study and play baseball. Both, with the dream of one day playing in American professional baseball.

Rolando decided to run a marathon and start training four months before the starting gun. Those scarce months to prepare a marathon for the first time can turn an initiative of discipline and work into madness. The ending was different.

II

Nothing better than arriving at least an hour before the event to have time to warm up, go to the bathroom, leave your things in the checkroom, and enter without pressure into your assigned corral. Being short on time brings nothing good and we know it.

That's what we did and Vero and I entered corral C half an hour before the start. Before that, Rolando lived the first runner's own experience when he had to enter the portable bathroom that is usually used in these races. He had trouble working up the courage because he wasn't used to it, but he did it before heading to another starting section.

The elevation in Los Angeles can be misleading and seem friendly because of the downhills it has; the first one is leaving the stadium. However, it has five or six hills that literally have to be climbed and involve additional effort.

Whether with favorable slopes or not, 42 kilometers had to be run anyway.

The objectives for Vero and for me, established for this spring race and discussed with coach César Simoni, were to "enjoy the race," meaning to run at a kinder pace than in the Venice marathon.

The significant effort of 2017 would also be, as established with César, in September next, perhaps under more favorable conditions.

III

Leaving the stadium is literally a rush of adrenaline that joins with a downward slope that forces runners to accelerate their step and some even struggled to control the speed. I tried to control myself and not deviate from the plan.

For this marathon I made an adjustment to my watch and decided to carry the average pace of the race and not the current pace, which can be inaccurate if at some point you run faster or slower. Either way, that was the decision.

I ran with Vero until near kilometer 5 at a good pace until she preferred to lower the intensity. I continued with an average of 5:35 minutes per kilometer, very close to the 5:40 that were in the plan.

I passed the first 10k in 56 minutes, a fast pace; the second 10k I tried to keep the same and crossed it in 55:28, a clear sign that I should slow down, but why?, I thought, if I'm doing well. From kilometer 20 to 30 I recorded 56:13 minutes, not bad although the complicated part was yet to come.

The Los Angeles marathon is planned to take runners to iconic places, like famous Sunset Boulevard, to come face to face at the top with Mount Lee, where the great "Hollywood" sign is; China Town, the Hollywood Walk of Fame, Rodeo Drive, among others, to finally arrive at Santa Monica Beach.

The Dolby Theatre, venue of the Oscars ceremony, was a point I remember because that's exactly where we had to turn left and start a downhill that would take us very close to the half-marathon mark. In total, a little more than 24 thousand runners participated, making it the fourth largest race of this kind in the United States.

The feeling of strength that you experience in a marathon is a dangerous weapon that will be your great enemy if you don't know how to deal with it. Either it takes you directly to the finish line or, to the precise and dramatic appointment with the famous wall that everyone wants to avoid. Either way, you'll get to either one very quickly.

Exhaustion appeared around 3 and a half hours into the race, somewhere around kilometer 37. I felt heat, thirst, and that my feet were going to come out of my sneakers. For the first time in seven marathons I experienced the sensation that I was running with shoes that weren't mine, that were at least a size smaller than what I needed.

I made a pause, ate the last little bag of honey I had left and launched myself to run again. The honey, the water I poured on my head, or all the training I had been doing for months made me recover my stride and start running like I did when I was going through the streets of Hollywood.

IV

With 30 or 40 minutes ahead, I took advantage of every distraction and word of encouragement that locals gave me. My shirt with two huge signs of Mexico, one on my back and another on the front, drew cheers from the spectators in sign of support.

When I felt the worst, I thought about how Rolando was doing. I knew he would finish the marathon, perhaps at the time limits established by the organizers, but I trusted that he would cross the finish line. Although due to the conditions of the weather and the race, I also imagined he was having a bad time.

I wasn't worried about Vero. She has a capacity to do well whatever she sets her mind to, in addition to an impressive physical resistance. I tried to run faster so she wouldn't pass me. She arrived at the finish line five minutes after me to register her best time, which she had achieved in Venice.

The final stretch in Santa Monica seemed endless. The finish line looked blurry more than 600 meters away. I decided to lower my head and keep running. The arch and sensors indicating the end of the race would come eventually.

I finished in 4 hours with 4 minutes. My third best time and three minutes less than in Venice.

It wasn't the best time, but it was the arrival at a marathon finish more emotional than I remember. I beat fatigue, my body, and my mind. That mind, in the final three miles, made me think it would be the last marathon I would run, that there would be others clearly, but ones in which I would only accompany Vero. No more, I sentenced.

I crossed the finish line, went to get water, to eat something from what the volunteers offered, to take photos at every station I found. I shouted, celebrated, shouted again. César must be satisfied.

I returned as always to the start line and Vero was already coming with her medal. We hugged.

V

It was time to recover, go to the checkroom, and turn on the cell phone. We had to investigate how and where Rolando was. The marathon application worked very well and we discovered he was coming with steady step, sure, and near the finish line.

Despite the doubts that existed before the race, Rolando became a marathoner and one of the 18,893 runners who crossed the finish line that day. Upon his arrival I saw him well. I even noticed he was relaxed and without evident fatigue.

There are few things as pleasurable as eating a piece of meat combined with a good wine after running a marathon. However, this marathon started to be celebrated from our arrival with gatherings and attentions from Rolando and his family.

It was a weekend of couple dinners, with children, of children's and school baseball games, which we finished in the stands of Dodger Stadium to watch the World Baseball Classic.

What started as an apparent idea of Rolando turned into a family weekend, of memories and of plans that will end where we decide, it can be in the streets of some other city to run a marathon or, in a baseball field.