The 2009 San Antonio Marathon. I ran the Half. Holy Schnikees! Was that a marathon or a patrol on the Ho Chi Minh Trail? Instead of the 34 degree day they had last year, it was in the lower 70s and humid. Perfect conditions for a flame-out, and that's just what happened to me at Mile 7. Still, I managed to finish the race and ran the entire route, probably more depleted and exhausted than I've ever been. Nonetheless, there was one silver lining: unlike my run in the Austin Half Marathon two years ago, I felt no unusual soreness. No knee or hip pain. The structure did fine. I ran out of fuel and hydration.
This was a shame. The marathon and half marathon course was really nice. It was mostly flat or even downhill. Just a few little hills from time to time, such as around the King William district. The course also had some really nice scenery, winding past the old Pearl Brewery, the Alamo, King William, downtown, and the south part of downtown (which I'd never visited but seemed really cool). The course was also well supported. In the 13.1 mile half marathon, they had at least eight water/cytomax stops. Additionally, they had volunteers passing out Gu gel (for refueling) at the 11 mile mark and spraying us with water at around the 9 mile mark. I was shocked at how many people participated, as runners, volunteers or spectators. Approximately 30,000 entered the race (many walkers participated). But there appeared to be a small army of volunteers at the water stops, start and finish lines, and all along the course. Medical personnel were stationed all along the course. Even more impressively, spectators completely lined the route. I was running very slow, but it definitely made a big difference in my motivation that there were so many people cheering all along the route. At one point downtown, there were so many spectators cheering so loudly it was possible, for just a fleeting moment, to imagine I was among the leaders fighting hard to win the race. Reality quickly set back in of course, but there was a really great atmosphere all along the course. They all had signs. The best one of the day said "I thought it was 1.31 miles." (A half marathon is 13.1 miles).
The start and finish lines, however, were a bit of a different story. They started the race north of downtown near a park with no parking (ironically), so everyone was shuttle bussed in. Unfortunately, the last shuttle arrived at 6 a.m., but with the "wave start" I didn't cross the starting line until 8 a.m. That's two full hours of sitting around, followed by standing around in the "corral" waiting for my section to start the race.
Perhaps against my personality, I visited with some of the other contestants. There was a couple in their 60s from Kerrville, who had run several full marathons (including Boston), but were running in the half today so they could focus on another full marathon later in the year. Another woman from Houston visited with us. She left her husband and kids back home (just for the weekend, of course) while she came to run the half. I asked her how she trained for hills and she said she did the stairmaster. While waiting in the porta-potty line, I somehow situated myself in the middle of about eight ladies appearing to be in their mid-50s, all eagerly discussing the wedding that one of their sons was to have soon. Apparently their greatest consternation was deciding what to wear. Specifically, the mother of the groom was in a quandry about her attire. We joked a bit about how men never have this problem. "Wear a blue suit and a red tie and you're good anywhere" I remarked. She said if you're the mother of the groom, you have three jobs: "Show up, shut up, and wear beige." Still another lady, perhaps in her mid-60s, ran the entire marathon in bare feet. We and others around us had a long talk about this as we were waiting for the start. She's run several marathons in bare feet, and as I saw her later on the course, she appeared to have no problems. Apparently there's something of a movement centered on this now, having to do with modern running shoes unnaturally forcing the foot to land heel first rather than its biomechanically intended spot of landing mid-sole. We talked about how Ethiopian Abebe Bikila won the 1960 Olympic Marathon in Rome in his bare feet. Finally, I spotted a young woman wearing a pink baseball cap with the "TAB" logo on it. She said she bought it in Las Vegas. My dad, as most of you know, is a rabid TAB drinker. I think he keeps the brand alive singlehandedly. The finish line was outside the Alamodome and that was fairly chaotic too. Huge crowds thronged around the finish and around the "recovery area."
My hotel, the Sheraton Gunter, was great but unfortunately it was on the other side of downtown from the stadium, much closer to the Main Plaza than to the Alamodome. So after running 2 hours and 18 minutes, I had to slog through a 30 minute walk past the crowds back to the hotel. By that time it was around 11, one hour before check-out. I had to hustle to take a cold shower (shown lately to reduce inflammation and swelling), finish packing, and get out of the room.
I'd hoped to have lunch with my good friends Sean, Cici and little Nina Collard, but they had the crud that's going around. So instead I planted my butt on a barstool at a sports bar in La Cantera, had an enormous plate of shrimp jambalaya (with brown rice), and watched all the NFL games on the NFL Sunday Ticket. I then walked around the shops for awhile, just so I wouldn't get too sore from sitting around, then drove home in time to watch a great Patriots-Colts game (complete with Generalissimo Belicheck's now-infamous fourth down meltdown).
Although it was the most physically taxing thing I've ever done, I'm glad I ran the race. I got to see some parts of San Antonio that the tourists don't generally see, which were in their own way quite attractive. Looking forward to doing it again next year, to measure my training and conditioning during the coming year. As I've explained to my family, every year that goes by since my heart surgery seems like my "second chance" time; its an opportunity to reclaim the gift of physical activity that seemed likely to disappear from my life until my January 2005 procedure. I went from being unable to run a mile without extreme discomfort and chest pain to finishing a 13.1 mile race (for a second time). That really is a gift, and during this season its one for which I'm deeply thankful.
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One final thought, which you'll read more about soon. My good friend and colleague Suzanne Bertin, who has these past few years plunged deeply into the world of triathlons and is obtaining her certification as a triathlon coach, is starting a fitness blog entitled "Placid Athlete." Go to http://www.placidathlete.com, and check out her thoughts and advice on "serenity and life/work balance through physical fitness, emotional fitness, and good nutrition." Suzanne also has a site at www.twitter.com/placidathlete which I know you'll enjoy.
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