Skyway 10k, St. Petersburg, Florida

A friend invited me to run this one with her as her first 10k. She was unable to run it though, as she had some family circumstances to attend to. Since it was too late to defer or transfer registration, I went ahead and attended the race on my own. The race benefits the Armed Forces Family Foundation, so the red, white and blue was everywhere. The ‘Merica was strong on this day.

Stock photo, from my iPhone. When you live in the area AND own a boat, you tend to pass by the Skyway on the regular.

The race covers the standard 6.2 miles of a 10k, but in this case those miles take you over the Sunshine Skyway Bridge. The Sunshine Skyway Bridge is pretty iconic around here. It’s quite the landmark for the greater Tampa Bay and St.Petersburg area. The cable-stayed bridge stretches just over 4 miles (not including the approach on either side) from St. Petersburg to Bradenton, spanning the opening of the bay to the Gulf of Mexico. At the center of the main span, the barrier wall is 200 feet above mean sea level. It’s a 4% grade up and down both sides. It’s got a somber side to its history, though. It was the replacement for the original bridge built in 1954 that was struck by a freighter back in 1980, resulting in a structural collapse that killed 35 people. In addition, the current bridge has been witness to 236 suicides since it opened in 1987, not including any incidents from the previous bridge. The Florida Department of Transportation has installed crisis phones and cameras across the span, and both the FDOT and the Florida Highway Patrol continue to look at ways to help prevent future incidents.

The round “bumpers” below the bridge are called dolphins. They are in place to help prevent bridge collapse in case of a collision.

Beyond those dark clouds, the Sunshine Skyway Bridge does serve the greater Tampa area by allowing nearly 60,000 vehicles to pass over it daily. It is occasionally closed for high winds or fog, and costs $1.50 each way to cross. The bridge allows over 3,000 tankers, cargo ships, and cruise ships to enter and exit Tampa Bay each year. Below the bridge, a 43-foot deep channel and numerous support piers provide rich fishing spots for west-coast anglers. It ranks high on U.S. and world lists for amazing bridges due to its construction and size.

The boat below the bridge, bottom left, is between about 20-22 feet in length.

I was a bit skeptical of this race, not because I didn’t think it would be really nifty to summit the thing, but because I found it somewhat difficult to find the race information I wanted on the race website. Maybe I just didn’t look hard enough. Big races - meaning, lots of people - are the ones I like to know lots of details about in advance. Field of runners only 200 deep? Meh, I’ll just show up and figure it out. Field of runners in the thousands? I’m gonna need a schedule. For reals. The thing that I could not figure out was a start time. I understood that there were “waves” of runners, each picking up a school bus from Tropicana Field in St. Petersburg at the specified time. Turns out, there were many start times.

To rewind a little, you had to go over the day before to St. Petersburg to Tropicana Field to pick up your bib. No race day pick up. This probably seems “okay” to most folks, but that drive over the bay is like, 30-45 minutes, if you’re lucky. Even with four bridges over the bay, they’ve all got traffic. Traffic in the morning, traffic at lunch, traffic at rush hour, traffic on Saturday night. I think there’s probably traffic at 3 a.m. the day after Christmas. After arrival at the Trop that Saturday afternoon, I was able to get my bib, shirt, and beer bracelet before the race with no problem.

There were so many porta-potties, they probably had their own zip code.

Race morning would go off as usual, except for some of the particulars for running over that big bridge. This race had some specific safety and security measures to follow. The ones that applied to me were: no large headphones, only clear water bottles, and a single-pocket belt. I had to clarify on the Facebook page whether my Flipbelt counted as a one-pocket kind of thing. It did. I also didn’t bring my usual Flipbelt bottles, as they aren’t completely clear. I opted, instead, for using an 8-ounce Nestle water bottle with a koozy that had been frozen the night before. We had chosen the 6:45 wave (well, mostly I did), thinking that based on the last wave time of 7:15 that the race must be starting about 8:00. I didn’t want to get there at the 5:00 a.m. wave and sit around for 2+ hours waiting.

I arrived at Tropicana Field and parked with little issue. I had a plastic bag to carry my breakfast - bacon, dry multigrain Cheerios, and a Diet Coke - which I started munching during my walk from the parking lot to where the buses were loading. I hit up porta-potty city and made my way to the wave corrals. The security lady told me I had to ditch my Diet Coke since it wasn’t in a clear container (that moment was horrific, no lie). After entering the corral, but before the buses, all runners passed through metal detectors and a small army of security from Tropicana Field. We boarded school buses and were off within minutes to begin the ride to the far side of the Skyway.

After making the long trek down between the dozens of school buses, I boarded a bus at the front of the line. Within 2-3 minutes, we were en route. A young man in a volunteer shirt stood at the front of the bus. He got our attention and read a prewritten message about what to expect, where to go, and thanking us for running today. That’s different, I thought. So far, the organizers of the race had planned things quite carefully and everything was running super smooth. There were no crazy crowds, signage was good. I still had no idea when the “start” was, but, I supposed at some point I’d figure it out.

The bus ride up and over to the south side of the bridge took about 20 minutes. On the way over, I saw the wheelchair athletes already in progress. That’s typical that they start earlier in races, both for safety of themselves and runners. Not long after, I see runners, and then some walkers. I overhear someone on the bus saying that was the first wave. Hmm……maybe there are multiple start times? I’m now feeling slightly anxious about my arrival time. My wave was not the last one, and I had arrived on time for my bus. I was still confused.

Ignore the long overdue nail work that needs to be done. Focus more on the composition of the art, sunrise with bacon.

On the other side of the bridge we were unloaded straight into a corralled walkway. Folks were lining up to take selfies and pictures of the sunrise. I could hear the announcer getting ready to send a wave of runners off. So, there are multiple “starts”? I had planned on having time after arriving at the start line to eat the last of my breakfast but it seemed that this was not going to be an option. I knew I didn’t actually need to finish the food in order to have fuel to complete the race. This was a 10k distance and I had no time goals. Heck, I even had more wine than usual the night before because I figured I was just going to go with ‘completion’ rather than ‘competition’ in mind. But I now had a bag of Cheerios and three slices of bacon to deal with. I shoved some cereal in my mouth and inhaled a slice of bacon. I tucked the last two slices in my belt and tossed the Cheerios in the trash. One does not throw away bacon. You just don’t.

I followed the other people down the fenced walk to where we climbed up an embankment to the road. Here, a relatively small crowd was gathered for the next wave start. Huh. So this is what they meant by waves. Not just waves to transport people from the Tropicana Field to the start, but actual wave starts throughout the morning. In other races, there are wave starts, but they are all very close together and ALL the runners wait at the start for their turn to go. This is certainly important information to have better explained on the website.

But, no matter. The Star-Spangled Banner was sung (as it was at every wave), a howitzer was fired (no kidding), and our wave was off. The original plan was to go, run or walk, at whatever pace my friend wanted. This was going to be one of her first 10ks, so I was there for support and camaraderie. I started with more of an average, easy pace (for me), but quickly became annoyed with the crowd. There were SO. MANY. WALKERS. I mean, like, 70% of the field. Now, I do believe that runners, walkers, and run-walkers can and should coexist at these events. There is room for everyone, regardless of how you choose to complete the distance. That’s part of the wonderfulness of the sport. We’re all just moving forward, one way or another. However, when you’re someone who wants to run, and you are unable, things get a little tense.

I quickly realized that this was an event, not a race. This is a fine thing, really. But with all the foot traffic and general meandering of walkers, I was itchy to run after just a quarter mile. The temperature was heating up fast. With the course to provide no relief from the sun, about to begin its assault, I needed to get moving. And so began the dodging. I probably ran an extra mile that day just weaving in and out of participants, trying to find a clear path. I wasn't the only one, either. At times. several runners would form a train and we’d weave in and out together.

The ascent up the bridge was, well, straightforward. After having run in some hilly places (thank you, Lexington, Kentucky), the grade of the bridge didn't worry me a bit. Although the up and down would be longer, it certainly wasn't any steeper than a number of places I’ve run before. My focus became to get up and over as soon as possible because the Florida sun was turning it up, quick. It didn’t take long for that pretty little sunrise to turn into a beautiful, clear, HOT west coast day.

At the top of the bridge there were film crews and cameras, as well as people stopped everywhere to take pictures. It actually made me a little nervous. All these people, at the top of this big bridge, not paying attention to anything but their phones… There was a Coast Guard helicopter circling above and a police boat circling below, which were probably there for the reasons I thought they were. I slowed at the top to snap off a few pictures but kept moving. It’s a great view from up there, and a reminder that the bay area is a great place to live.

The descent from the top was an exact reflection of the ascent. More dodging and weaving, more heat. As I made my way down the other side, I could hear many of the other participants talking about how much farther they had to go or encouraging the person they were with to keep going. It had been clear in the first half that many of the people here were not athletes by any measure. Many were doing the event for other reasons and had no interest or care in pace, place, or times. This man-made mountain they were climbing represented something else. For some, this walk, run or whatever was a call to action, and a call to a cause.

I crossed the finish line, soaked and salty. Many people were milling around, taking pictures and talking, much like most finish line areas. But there was something missing. Like, everything. No medal, no water, no food, no music, no fanfare. I then hear a volunteer talking to the crowd, “The water is on the bus! Please make your way to one of the buses!”

I followed the slow-moving herd down the road a few tenths to the buses which were waiting for sweaty people to hop on board. In each seat was a water bottle. I plopped down next to a man who was by himself, inwardly hoping he would not be too grossed out if my sweaty elbow bumped into him. Within 2-3 minutes, our bus was full and we were on our way to the Trop. Another volunteer stood up to speak, again thanking us for participating and letting us know that $650,000 was raised for the Armed Forces Families Foundation. A cheer went up from the crowd. It’s nice to know that the charity of choice received a truly sizable donation, not just a gesture of a few pennies.

We arrived back at the Trop and unloaded into the post-race expo. Here we received our medal and three food items: plain bagel bites, half bananas, and Sun Chips. Just like the race experience so far, everything was tightly organized. I spent a minute or two looking around and sniffed out the beer tent tucked into the corner. I collected my free beer and walked out of the expo. I spent about 10 minutes in the parking lot on a shady curb, enjoying my beer and some chips before heading home.

Aside from my lack of understanding on the start times/procedures, the “event” was a good experience. I had a decent finish time/pace despite the walker traffic, and from start to finish the experience was well-coordinated and ran like a machine.

It’s a fun one to put on your bucket list, but you’ll have to be quick on the draw. This race of over 6,000 participants sells out in minutes. Until I run it again someday, I’ll just have to enjoy the view of this impressive bridge from water level.