You cannot shake hands with a clenched fist.
– Indira Ghandi
We interrupt this (normally) chronological blog for a race report four months in the making. After this one was nearly buried by the whirlwind of our RaceRaves launch, I figured it was time to hunker down and get it published before registration for the 2015 race opens in early April, and before the next Avengers movie opens in May.
I’ve lived in California for over 20 years. In that time I’ve raced up and down and across the state – from Sacramento to San Francisco to San Jose to San Diego, from Napa Valley to Sonoma County to the Santa Barbara Wine Country, from Huntington Beach to Long Beach, from Mount Diablo to the City of Angels, from Wharf-to-Wharf and Bridge-to-Bridge, from the white sands of Malibu to the blue collars of Oakland to the redwoods of Big Sur, from the Pacific Ocean to the Sierra Nevada, and in one 31-hour timespan thanks to 11 friends and two vans, from Calistoga to Santa Cruz.
I’ve covered a whole lot of the Golden State on foot. And yet in my two decades here, I’d never raced at the Happiest (turned Measle-iest) Place on Earth. I’d never raced at Disneyland.
Maybe it was my less-than-zero interest in Disney’s princess- and Tinker Bell-themed races. Maybe it was the wallet-crippling registration fees for which Disney races are notorious. Whatever the reasons, none of it mattered when I flipped open my new issue of Runner’s World early last year to be greeted by this announcement:
In the beginning
It’s not hyperbole to say mine was a childhood spent living and breathing all things Marvel Comics. Countless allowances invested toward Spider-Man’s epic battles with the Green Goblin and Dr. Octopus. Dog-eared issues read, re-read and re-re-read to follow the Hulk’s blow-by-blow encounters with the Abomination, not to mention his own inner turmoil. Iron Man, Captain America, the X-Men and so many other secondary and tertiary members of the Marvel universe – their every move scrutinized with a hyper-religious fervor, my bedroom an unabashed shrine to their superpowered conquests. Significant portions of my childhood were blissfully sacrificed at the altar of Stan Lee, as I celebrated every hard-fought victory of good over evil from the sanctuary of my comic–strewn bed.
I watched the TV shows. I listened to the book-and-record sets. I read the novels. I played the video games. And you bet I wore the Underoos. On family road trips across Texas, I implored my parents to stop at every roadside convenience store to check for new comic books to add to my collection. I dragged Dad and his saintly patience to comic book conventions, while driving Mom to the edge of sanity with my heroic in-house escapades.
I once sent the Hulk a personal letter to let him know I had his back, and received a reply – with autographed photo! – handwritten in rigid block letters. Which confirmed it was from him, because who else would write like that? He even admitted to liking the way I drew him:
My voracious hero habit was funded by regular off-hour visits to suburban construction sites, where discarded aluminum cans and glass bottles brought a pretty (albeit sticky) penny at the local recyclery. And not to brag, but by keeping my eyes on the prize and my hands on the cans, I was able to purchase for $30 a pristine copy of The Incredible Hulk #181, featuring the first full appearance of Wolverine and currently appraised at several thousand dollars. Heartwarming to think that the best return-on-investment in my personal portfolio was made before the age of 10.
I resolved to find an unprotected source of gamma rays somewhere in my hometown of Plano, TX. Other kids could aspire to be firemen or football players – when I grew up, I wanted to be the Hulk. As the implausibility of that career choice slowly dawned on me, I recalibrated my expectations, compromised my youthful dreams and re-focused my energies instead on becoming the next Spider-Man.
And that other comics publishing group, the one foisting so-called “superheroes” like Superman, Batman and – I can still hardly say the name with a straight face – Aquaman on impressionable readers? Please. When your flagship hero (whose apparently foolproof disguise is a pair of eyeglasses) is impervious to every threat except debris from his home planet, it’s time to fire your entire creative team and start over. As nicely as Lynda Carter filled out her Wonder Woman costume, here was one 7-year-old who was immune to her warrior princess charms. I had neither the time nor the tolerance for superhero wannabes.
Lord Vader would agree that running the Avengers Half was my DESTINY
Sure I played baseball and basketball, hung out with friends and even maintained a pretty demanding video game habit, all while holding my own in school. But I would have scrapped it all pronto for the chance to crawl up one brick wall or commute to and from school by swinging on a spider’s web between buildings.
So understandably, three decades later when I saw the full-page ad in Runner’s World announcing the inaugural runDisney Avengers Super Heroes Half Marathon, my eyes widened and my pulse quickened as pre- and post-adolescent lives merged in a burst of quixotic epiphany. This made other no-brainers feel like Sophie’s Choice.
Like an energized bride-to-be, my planning began well in advance of the big day. To begin, I would have my choice of a couple different long-sleeve green tech tees from my closet, shirts I used to wear regularly back in the Bay Area where the temperature occasionally dips below 55°F. Next, thanks to eBay I scored a sweet deal on a pair of oversized foam Hulk fists – one slightly faded relative to the other and both long since having surrendered their animatronic vitality. Probably not compelling to a parent shopping for their 7-year-old son, but perfect for my intended use.
A visit to the Goodwill store followed, where I lucked into an oversized purple swimsuit with the manufacturer’s tag still attached (no hand-me-down swimwear, please). And rounding out my atypical running outfit would be a pair of lime green Saucony Cortanas I’d purchased for their heel cushioning during my bout with PF last year. Too bad I didn’t own these Vibram Five Fingers for the full barefoot effect…
Looking over my motley collection of off-green apparel, I may be the clashiest superhero on the course, but I wouldn’t want to be the runner who called out the Hulk for his fists not matching his feet.
Speaking of costumes, Jen & I collaborated on one of my all-time favorites – Peter Pan & his shadow, Halloween 2008
Avengers Assemble!
At long last, race day arrived. Lack of sleep, combined with the harsh electrical lighting and crush of costumed runners, lent a surreal quality to the lingering darkness that swaddled the predawn start line. A 5:30am start time – get ‘em in and out before the park opens! – necessitated a 3:00am wake-up call at home, meaning we fell asleep just in time to wake up again. No amount of scripted enthuasiam from the dueling emcees on the start-line stage could convince my circadian rhythms that it was time to run 13.1 miles.
From his vantage point on the starkly lit stage, one of the over-caffeinated emcees addressed his captive yawn-dience: “Welcome to the first annual Avengers Half Marathon!” (cheers). “How many of you are running your first Disney race?” (smattering of cheers). The second emcee then laughed and chimed in with “How many of you are Avengers legacy runners? Our script says we should ask how many of you are legacy runners…”. For non-runners, “legacy” identifies a runner who has completed every edition of a given race since its inaugural year, meaning that once we crossed the finish line, every runner in attendance would by definition be an Avengers legacy runner. Because of the opportunity for exclusive Disney bling, the runDisney faithful take their legacy status very seriously, as this post confirms.
Tuning out the on-stage banter, my weary mind flashed back to the day before. We’d arranged to meet Antarctica friends Wally & Larissa along with their friend Travis for lunch in downtown Disney. There we’d brought each other up to speed since our last meeting in Buenos Aires 19 months earlier – Katie and I had shared all things RaceRaves, and Wally had convinced me through his vivid retelling (read it HERE) that the 56-mile Comrades “Marathon” should be the leading contender for my first African race.
Avengers assemble! with Wally & Larissa in Downtown Disney
After lunch we’d dropped by the expo, a scaled-down version of its parent Walt Disney World Marathon Expo, with many of the same booths hawking punny runner t-shirts and stickers, recovery tools, running shoes and Clif Bar samples. Being Disney, too, the expo had a strong motif of sparkle and fashion-forwardness to it. Looking around at vendors targeting every step of the process – from nutrition to gear to recovery – my first impression as an outsider would have been that running is hard. Luckily it didn’t take long to collect my race packet and long-sleeve black Champion tech tee, and a short time later we were once again zooming north along the Santa Ana Freeway toward home.
Back to Sunday, and like a Disney-fied Rocky Balboa looking to dispel nervous energy, I bounced up and down in place while knocking my oversized fists together. Not only would the fists be fashionable on this day, they would also double as storage and protection for my camera, which I carried in the palm of my right hand.
The horn sounded, the “GO!” lights flanking the stage flashed their command, and the “A” corral flooded across the start line. Down a dimly lit Disneyland Drive we cruised for just over ¼ mile before turning into Disney California Adventure Park, followed by Disneyland at around mile 2. Winding our way among the attractions, we passed through Sleeping Beauty Castle and down Main Street, USA.
Aye Aye, Captain!
For the first two miles I wore my earbuds and listened to music on my iPhone, the first time I’d ever done so in a race. The reason? I’d been invited to try Motigo, a new app created by a colleague that allows friends and family to pre-record motivational cheers that cleverly play on your iPhone at designated spots along the course. I’d happily offered to test it out on race day, knowing today would be less “race” and more “fun run”. Sure enough, just before mile two the heavy drumbeat and driving guitar of symphonic metal faded out quickly to be replaced by Katie’s pre-recorded cheer, after which the music seamlessly picked back up where it had left off. Motigo was a cool experience, and I can imagine several strong use cases for it, including runners tackling their first half or full marathon and coaches who want to support their runners during a race.
The first three miles in the dark but brightly lit parks included several stops, the first for a photo op with Thor, God of Asgard (who am I to run right by a god without stopping?). I then made up time by passing both Hawkeye and the Black Widow, opting instead to save my stops for the real heroes, the ones with legitimate powers who needn’t rely on a bow-and-arrow or handgun for their weaponry. If I wanted a hero with a bow-and-arrow, I’d call Katniss Everdeen.
I even passed up a photo op with Russell from the Pixar movie “Up”, who apparently had risen from bed early to find out what all the ruckus was about.
And then, just like that, we were leaving the park and cruising through Anaheim along South Harbor Blvd. Given that the first three miles had been largely hero-deficient, I assumed Disney would be distributing the rest of their Avengers either along the course outside the park or saving them for our return visit in the final mile.
He who runs a fast half marathon, might finish a bit Thor
Now entering the dead zone
Mile 4 clocked in at 7:14, as I stretched my legs and tried to literally run away from the suburban strip-mall monotony all around us. With the sun rising in a clear sky and the initial spike of start-line adrenaline out of my system, I felt the first wave of sleep deprivation wash over me. A stiff headwind greeted us as we turned east onto Chapman Ave. How adorable – weather! sang the spoiled Californian in me. I’m convinced that all of Orange County sits within a climate-controlled dome, the main control panel for which lives in Disney CEO Robert Iger’s office. So I was surprised that non-ideal weather patterns were tolerated so close to the Disney campus. And I naturally assumed the gusts that were now whipping me in the face would be short-lived.
Apparently, though, there are higher forces at work than even Disney, because the wind really began to flex its muscle in mile 5. And suddenly this ¾ mile stretch of road in notoriously temperate Anaheim became more of a struggle than even the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge in New York City had been two weeks earlier, when Dunkin’ Donuts beanies had swirled around my feet as I’d fought not to be blown sideways like a discarded newspaper.
From Weather Underground, 16 Nov 2014:
The National Weather Service in San Diego has issued a Wind Advisory:
* Winds…north to northeast 25 to 35 mph…with local gusts to 55 mph.
* Reports…strongest wind gusts today as of 1 pm: 76 mph at Pleasants Peak in the Santa Ana Mountains. 62 mph at Fremont Canyon in the coastal foothills of the Santa Ana Mountains.
* Impacts…strong gusty winds will make driving hazardous. Watch for broken tree limbs and localized blowing dust may reduce visibility.
Finally we gained a reprieve from the direct headwind, zigzagging our way through the parking lot of the impressive (both for its size and geometric glass architecture) Christ Cathedral in Garden Grove. Another nondescript mile of suburbia followed, Mother Nature again dialing up the wind as if to protest the lack of scenery.
Along the course, local marching bands and cheerleading squads dutifully cheered on the runners with a show of prefab enthusiasm that I both appreciated and pitied. An odd scene greeted us at mile 7, where one energetic marching band blasted the theme song to the Spider-Man TV series from the late 60s – the one clearly animated by a group of Funyun-lovin’ twenty-somethings on an acid trip – while a runner dressed in full Spider-Man costume danced an absurd jig, as though rats were nipping at his heels.
The familiar song brought back childhood memories of my mom regularly dragging me away from that same TV show because we had to go pick up my older brother Chuck from school. I’d time and again tried to reassure her that with plenty of Tang and Hostess products in the house, I’d be fine by my 8-year-old self until she got home. But she wouldn’t relent (moms are odd like that), and so to this day whenever I hear that theme song, I have flashbacks to all the Spider-Man cartoons I missed because for some reason Chuck’s legs didn’t work well enough to walk themselves home.
With my oversized green fists and tattered purple shorts, I drew frequent cries of “Hulk smash!” from runners and aid station volunteers. Spectators, however, were understandably sparse – Katie was trapped in Disneyland parking with no in-and-out privileges, while most of the locals still counted sheep on the backs of their eyelids.
Goofy, meet goofier
This was my first half marathon since Oakland 2012, and one thing Hulk wouldn’t be smashing on this day was his PR from that March day. Of course, with a green boxing glove on each hand and camera at the ready, a fast finish time was the furthest thing from my mind. I’d set my lone time goal as a sub-two hour finish, though I was ready and willing to keep an open mind.
Overall, my Hulk hands were light and less cumbersome than I’d expected. Granted they proved challenging to pull off and on to access the camera once my hands got sweaty, and I opted to spare myself the awkward challenge of aid stations, which looked well-stocked with water and Powerade. But the smiles & acknowledgements from other runners and volunteers were well worth the minor inconvenience.
Glancing around, I picked out quite a few other Hulks in the stream of runners, many of them sporting officially licensed Hulk muscle shirts or – in one case – a green t-shirt with sparkly purple skirt. Surprisingly, though, I saw only one other runner wielding a pair of green fists, which were ill-fitting and roughly half the size of my own. I offered their owner a friendly fist bump in passing and reflected on the fact that sometimes, size does matter.
Along the way I tried to sympathize with the Batmen, the Supermen, the Wonder Women and even the solitary Flash I saw… really I did, but the same thought kept echoing through my head: looks like someone needs their own race! If it weren’t for Heath Ledger’s Joker, would DC Comics have anything to show for the past 20 years?
In my defense, we were told to strike our “best superhero pose” (Discovery Times Square, New York City)
Enter Sandman
Luckily I was able to entertain myself, because the monotony of the course persisted as we headed north along the Santa Ana River Trail toward Angel Stadium. The state’s historic drought had transformed the riverbed into a sinuous sandbox which now served as a limitless repository of wind-blown grit. Through squinted eyes I spied a homeless camp beneath an overpass, the stark reality of which left me feeling self-conscious in my silly superhero garb.
Just as the riverside path began to feel interminable and Angel Stadium remained a distant hope through the dusty haze, this “dead zone” was interrupted by an oddly eclectic collection of Marvel heroes and villains lining the course. It took my brain a moment to register what was going on, and as the cheering figures flashed by I committed to memory as many as I could – among them a buff and heroic Falcon, several agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., a Scarlet Witch, a classic gray Iron Man costume replete with blinking LEDs, a curiously short Spider-Man dressed like a “South Park” character in costume, pom beanie, scarf and jacket; and a painstakingly made-up She-Hulk with whom I shared a knowing smile and a parting fist bump.
The highlights of this fleeting encounter with good and evil were a a frighteningly realistic Venom; a very cool Sandman wielding what looked to be papier mâché fists that dwarfed my own; and a fleshy Magneto, whose costume clearly strained under the pressure of its assignment and who looked to be harnessing his awesome power of control over metallic objects to hold his belt buckle in place. Unfortunately, on this narrow and crowded section of the trail I couldn’t stop for photos without risking a collision with another runner.
Luckily these flags were weighted down, or the wind would’ve turned them into weapons
Whether these were official Disney “crew members” I can’t say, but they did provide a momentary and much-needed distraction from the ever-tightening grasp of OC ennui. Reality quickly set in again, however, and the remaining distance to Angel Stadium was a definite low point of the morning. I faced the swirling onslaught of sand and grit (“like little bits of Anaheim shrapnel,” Larissa would later say) with head down, mouth closed and eyes open just wide enough to stay the course. Ironically, despite the oversized weaponry at the ends of my arms, I felt like the skinny kid at the beach getting sand kicked in my face. Dammit, this had to be the Sandman’s fault – I should’ve taken him down when I had the chance!
Finally we reached Angel Stadium, where another marching band + cheerleading squad greeted our arrival. Let’s be honest – Angel Stadium isn’t Fenway Park or even Dodger Stadium, and so visiting the empty stadium wasn’t nearly as appealing as the brief respite it offered from the high headwinds and constant concrete. Along the red dirt from home plate to third base we ran before exiting through the left field wall. Like the home team itself in the 2014 baseball playoffs, we got in and out quickly.
Welcome to Angel Stadium
As we turned our sights toward home, I glanced the mile 9 sign lying flat on its back just outside Angel Stadium, another casualty of Mother Nature’s bluster. Unlike New York, the wind in this case stuck to the script, providing a much-appreciated tailwind that erratically blew me forward as we followed the course alongside and over the Santa Ana Freeway.
As the race entered its later stages and our mileage reached double digits, what I saw left me fearing for mankind’s future. There was Captain America off to one side, nursing a calf cramp. Spider-Man walked through an aid station, sipping a cup of Powerade. And Thor shuffled along, soles scraping the concrete. Suddenly I understood why Mr. Incredible had gained so much weight in middle age. Apparently protecting the planet from malevolent, all-powerful forces is child’s play compared to the demands of running a half marathon!
Aside from the oft-seen “You’re MY superhero!” signs, the only spectator sign of note was the curious directive to “Run like there’s SHAWARMA at the finish line!” Which got me thinking – was this sign intended for a specific runner? Was there actually NOT shawarma at the finish line? And if there was, was it scarce and therefore worth speeding up for in the face of mounting fatigue? The sign raised more questions than it answered…
Running along the Santa Ana Freeway at 7:00am? It’s the Disney Way
Approaching the parks in mile 12, a haze of wind-blown dirt hung in the air as seeds and pods from the surrounding trees spiraled to the ground like nature’s confetti.
Lest I’d forgotten the strength of the tailwind at my back, I was offered a graphic reminder when a defenseless orange pylon blew over and shot forward like a skipping stone skimming the surface of the water. The out-of-control pylon quickly caught up to and passed a runner who had a good 10-yard head start on it, before veering off-course and rolling away. Wow.
Luckily runners are little more than ambulatory pylons, and without conscious effort my mile 13 turned out to be my fastest of the day in a wind-aided 7:11.
Admittedly, I spent no time in front of the mirror practicing my Hulk expressions
Cruising toward home, my ears perked up as that unmistakable Disneyland music rose in the distance, a siren song calling to its beguiled runners. And as I reeled in the finish line, suddenly I realized there would be no more sanctioned super-sightings – no Captain America, no Iron Man, and sadly {snif} no Hulk. Disappointing to be sure, though admittedly miles 4-12 (but for one 20-yard stretch of costumed characters) had maxed out my disappointment quota for the day.
Striding past bleachers dotted with spectators, I sidestepped the flow of traffic for one last Hulk-inspired pose before crossing the finish line in 1:47:15. Gratefully I accepted a finisher medal from a shiny happy volunteer, though the moment lacked its usual “surprise & delight” luster because I’d accidentally seen the medal on display at the runDisney expo booth in New York City two weeks earlier (see Dan’s “Rules for Racing” #1). No this isn’t a deal-breaker, and yes it’s my personal bias, but runDisney needs to stop showcasing its medals before the race. After all, anticipation is a powerful carrot, and it’s not like the Disney faithful will stop running their races without a sneak peek at the bling.
That poor finish line never knew what hit it
Where have all the heroes gone?
Once across the finish line the music died quickly, both literally and figuratively. I absentmindedly accepted a banana, water and Kleenex-shaped box of packaged munchies from a volunteer, before being shunted unceremoniously out of the finish chute and into the converted parking lot that served as the family reunion area, site of the post-race festivities.
Other than an empty stage set up to one side for the winning Avengers to assemble, the finish-line area felt very non-festive. I reunited with Katie and we milled about uncertainly, expecting photo ops with other Disney characters, or at the very least some semblance of post-race entertainment. Sponsor booths stood largely ignored on the perimeter, away from the flow of traffic. And charity tents were placed on the far side of the converted parking lot, next to a little-used exit.
Mother Nature, perhaps intent on ending this charade, raised another series of strong gusts, and just like that the wind had won. Soon booths and tents were being dismantled, and mingling runners were being encouraged to exit the reunion area. The PA announced that the awards ceremony had been moved and would likely be canceled. We had planned to hang out to wait for Wally & Larissa to finish, but the AT&T race tracking app claimed no knowledge of them, and so I knew neither their pace nor when they’d finish. Resignedly we exited the reunion area, the sad edifice of the unused stage seeing us out.
See below for my other thoughts related to race production. RunDisney organizers, avert your eyes.
Iron-ically, the other runners were far more entertaining than the official on-course entertainment
The wind chime-y tinkle of medal-on-medal-on-medal – the mating call of the runDisney devotee – filled the air as we made our way toward the parking lot through the swelling crowd of finishers exiting the reunion area. This being the final runDisney event of the year, many runners proudly showcased their personal collection of 2014 finisher medals. In most cases this consisted of one or two Disneyland & Disney World medals, along with a Coast to Coast Challenge medal for completing races in both parks in one calendar year.
Yet amid this impressive assemblage of transcontinental bling, one couple from New York garnered the type of attention normally reserved for conquering heroes, the complete set of his-and-hers 2014 runDisney finisher medals hanging around their necks. I congratulated and snapped a photo of the exhausted yet beaming duo, their year’s remarkable collection of runDi$ney earnings on full display to be admired like dragon pelts.
And for one fleeting moment, I felt green with envy.
No one does “flair” like runDisney
BOTTOM LINE: For much of my childhood I ate, drank, breathed and slept Marvel Comics. And I greeted the announcement of the inaugural Avengers Super Heroes Half with wide-eyed enthusiasm. So I’m disappointed to say that after experiencing the race once, I have zero interest in running it again.
Yes, runDisney recently added their predictable enticement of an extra medal courtesy of their two-day “Infinity Gauntlet Challenge” (10K on Saturday, half marathon on Sunday). And yes, the race again will sell out faster than you can say “Ultron”. But my own enjoyment of the event derived almost entirely from seeing other runners in their full or partial superhero regalia, rather than from anything the runDisney folks did. So the folks in the home office have some major kinks to iron out here before I can recommend the race in good conscience to any but the most hardcore runDisney-ophile.
First, and speaking of “iron”, I don’t claim to understand licensing or film rights, but I do know Iron Man is a key member of the Avengers, as are the Hulk and Captain America. And yet Iron Man was conspicuously absent from the weekend’s activities, while the Hulk and Captain America appeared nowhere but on the cover of the official event guide. So Disney needs to untangle itself from Marvel’s restrictive licensing deals before this race can realize its potential and fully live up to the “Avengers” label. Until that happens, runners will have to be content with Thor, Hawkeye and Black Widow as the meager on-course Avengers representatives. Fans of the franchise know there’s a reason Hawkeye and the Black Widow don’t have their own movie franchises – they’re BORING.
The Official 2014 Event Guide (left) & my “truth in advertising” version (right)
Second, the course itself outside the parks – specifically miles 4-12 – is mind-numbing. Disney can create magic; it can make wishes come true; it can turn adults into kids, and kids into believers. Disney has the power to achieve a lot of things – but making Santa Ana, Garden Grove and the rest of Anaheim interesting ain’t one of them.
I thoroughly enjoyed January’s Walt Disney World Marathon in Florida and hope to return; on the other hand, I don’t anticipate running another SoCal Disney race. Tough to believe I’d recommend Florida over Southern California for any reason, but if you’re a runner eyeing your first runDisney race, and as long as you aren’t wed to either the Avengers or Star Wars, then set your sights on Florida. And if race distance is no object, then the WDW Marathon is a no-brainer.
Another vote for Florida: Cinderella Castle in Orlando (left) vs. Sleeping Beauty Castle in Anaheim (right)
PRODUCTION: I appreciate the fact that runDisney events attract a slew of unlikely runners and inspire loyalty among those runners, as only Disney can. And this year’s WDW Marathon was seamlessly orchestrated from start to finish. But the inaugural Avengers Half – and I never thought I’d say this about a Disney production – felt like a company going through the motions. Honestly, it felt like the folks at runDisney half-assed this race. Logistically the race went off smoothly enough, but when your reputation enables you to charge $195 for a half marathon while promising a “power-packed weekend of fantastic fun and amazing excitement”, you can’t half-ass ANYTHING. For $195, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. should be waiting to valet my car on race day.
Unfortunately runDisney has no qualms about wringing every last penny out of its customers. Case in point, the runDisney ChEAR Squad program (get it? EAR? Mickey?) lets spectators purchase silver, gold or platinum packages to gain “special access” inside Disneyland during the race and to reserve seating at the finish line. This, rather than apathy, was the reason the finish line bleachers were largely empty on race morning – friends & family had to pay to sit there! Spectators who smartly refused to pay were positioned behind barricades on the far side of the finish line, where the real crowds gathered.
Tough to see here, but the paid spectator seating along the home stretch was largely empty
Note to runDisney: feel free to charge the runners whatever registration fee you can command for your races, but leave the spectators alone. Better yet, if you were to offer a race-day Disneyland park discount to every registered runner, maybe you could access those spectators’ wallets without seeming so blatantly exploitative.
The high winds on race day certainly weren’t Disney’s fault (so much for my illusion of a climate-controlled dome…), and I’d like to see whether the finish-line festival becomes more festive without the overriding concern of booths, tents and the main stage blowing away at any moment.
And one other question, runDisney: why would I dedicate (at least) 20 minutes of my time to complete your anonymous post-race survey that no other runner will ever see, when I can post my review on RaceRaves.com where other runners (and race directors) will read and benefit from it? Maybe it’s time to ditch the anonymous survey in favor of a forum where runners can openly share their honest feedback? Your finishers are your best evangelists, so a little trust in them might go a long way…
RaceRaves rating:
FINAL STATS:
November 16, 2015
13.25 miles in and around Disneyland (Anaheim, CA)
Finish time & pace: 1:47:15 (first time running the Avengers Super Heroes Half Marathon), 8:06/mile
Finish place: 233 overall, 40/640 in M(40-44) age group
Number of finishers: 10,468 (4,047 men, 6,421 women)
Race weather: Cool and sunny (starting temp 54°F), strong gusty winds
Elevation change (Garmin Connect): 63ft ascent, 70ft descent
2015 registration opens on April 7
