Spooky. That’s the image that is now ingrained of San Francisco after a three-hour tour. And, to be fair, not entirely spooky – also sinister. San Fran is a city that has its secrets shrouded.
Having never been to the City by the Bay – an image was built through books, movies, television and Hearst history – the city’s rep was odd combo quirky and techy, liberal and elite.
What would Sam Spade think of Lyft? Probably a thumbs up. Full House is likely thumbs down. And Bullitt – he’d want to drive the Mustang but would understand why Steve McQueen deserves respect.
When the decision to travel south for first destination marathon was made, San Francisco was easy choice; but six months ago picking the distance was difficult with options of the full or two separate halfs that largely replicate the full route.
At this point, was still hoping for Boston qualifying time at BMO Marathon in Vancouver, which alas did not come to pass. However, it wasn’t worries about times that led to the full marathon, it was much simpler: why go all that way and not see the whole damn city. Run over one of the most iconic bridges in the world and traverse world famous neighborhoods like Haight Ashbury. Only made sense.
The plan was always for this adventure to be equally about travel and running: dubbed it travrunning.
Key component of planning was the race. What secrets would the early morning give away that are overshadowed by the vibrancy that ensues as the population comes to life. Very few, it seems.
Starting the race along the waterfront is cool, with mist mingling with fog before sweat even breaks. The Bay Bridge can be seen, fairly crisply.
As the route winds through Fort Mason, after first incline, there’s a downhill and a glance to the left reveals a residential enclave. A chance to see if anyone in San Fran is up this early. Thwarted, though, by the fog- the ground floor seems to separate from the stories above. No lights are seen through the curtain.
From there on to the Golden Gate Bridge, with a couple of hills acting as welcoming party. Approaching the bridge, nothing suggests it is an icon- it would appear to be a flat Soviet-era design. Once the deck was accepting the pounding of thousands of pairs of feet, a little of the majesty is sighted. What isn’t? Alcatraz. I know it’s there but from the vantage point of the bridge, The Rock has disappeared.
The rest of the race follows a familiar pattern: the immediate is stunning, the promise of more only hinted at.
Another thought: Vancouver is sited in a spectacular setting. Stanley Park, the bridges (particularly Lions Gate) and the mountains create a visual allure few can match. Drawback: Van doesn’t have the history and heritage buildings that would incite people to climb massive hills of concrete.
And while it seems the race has taken precedence over travel, not really true. Culinary treats have taken center stage. John’s Grill has best chops ever, plus the legend of The Maltese Falcon. Market Bar on waterfront, toned down tourist trap. Kokkari was the best Greek food, playing into no stereotypes. Anzu served up a brunch earned after 26.2 miles (we weren’t only competitors dining). And Gary Danko is on agenda. Plus with two more days there are some brewpubs and small eateries. Along with Jays game in Oakland.
Verdict is clear: travrunning will continue. Maybe even Boston, now that the qualifying time is secured.
On the Right Side 
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