San Antonio Half Marathon

My first year of this "running thing" culminated with the Aramco Houston Half Marathon in January 2006 (2:42:04). It was rough, but I did not perish, so I came back and ran that race again this past January (2:27:30). This coming January, I'm going to up the insanity level by attempting the full 26.2 miles of the Chevron Houston Marathon. During my training, I wanted to insert at least one other race as a "tune-up." So I wound up choosing San Antonio for my third half marathon, and it would be the first time I've tried mixing traveling and racing together.

The starting line of the race is in Alamo Plaza near the front of the iconic building which houses the shrine to the sacrifices for Texan independence. I settle myself into the corral directly in front of the 4:45 marathon pace group. It's not an overwhelming crowd for Marathon Sunday in a big city; it looks like no more than about 4,000 runners between the full and half courses. The race was started by 19th century re-enactors firing into the air with what appeared to be flintrock rifles. As I crossed the starting mat and got underway, the one thought that rolled around in my head was, "Do not get get sucked into going out too fast." So off I went, striding at what I thought was a conservative pace.


Mile 01: 10:08
Unlike my experiences in Houston, the small field of runners meant that I wasn't expending energy negotiating a crowd in the first couple of miles; I was mostly free to settle into my own pace. As approached the one mile marker, I looked at my Garmin. I wasn't running as conservatively as I had imagined. "What the heck are you doing?," I berated myself. "This isn't a 10K! You're going to regret this later!"

Mile 02: 10:12
I deliberately tried to retard my pace but didn't really succeed much. On the second mile, the route goes by a business called "Hashers' Supply." (Only runners might know why that could be funny.)

Mile 03: 9:55
Mile 04: 9:47
After rising slightly in a northerly direction away from downtown, the course began to return back to the south. This began several miles of declining slope. In mile 4 I was afforded one of the most inspiring race vistas I've seen in my short running career -- hundreds and hundreds of runners with me flowing downhill across all four lanes of North St. Mary's Street into downtown San Antonio, like water over a pebbled stream bed.

I have a handheld Amphipod bottle that I've been carrying with me on my long runs lately. Laden with Gatorade, I was running with it today, and it let me pass up nearly every aid station on the course without having to slow or break pace. I was particularly thankful for this at the mile 4 marker. Between the water stop and long lines for the porta-potties, the entre width of West Houston Street was full of either standing or walking runners. Ironically, the sidewalk was clear, so I hopped the curb and barreled through.

Mile 05: 9:32
Mile 06: 9:55
Mile 07: 9:46
Mile 08: 9:42
Still aided by the slope, I steamrolled my way past the Greek Revival and Victorian-style homes of the King Williams Historic District. After the 6-mile marker, I looked at my Garmin again, contemplating how my in-race progress compared to my standing 10K race PR. I shook my head and moved on.

At around mile 7 I noticed someone running the race in full firefighter gear -- helmet, mask, firesuit, and oxygen tank!

Mile 09: 10:20
A few miles down Mission Road, the half-marathon course U-turns back towards the north. Now the slopes were reversed. It's a good thing the photographers were set up prior to this point, because now I was in for a fight and it wasn't going to be pretty!

Mile 10: 10:09
Mile 11: 10:28
Heading up South St. Mary's Street in miles 10 and 11, I mentally latched onto a lady runner with a dark ponytail and a Nathan hydration belt riding on her hips. Let's just say that following the bouncing bottles kept me on pace and was a welcome distraction from my tiring legs coming into the final 5K stretch.

At mile 11 I also had a little fun with the crowd: "Has anyone seen a stadium around here?" I yelled. The folks on the sidewalk pointed in the general direction of downtown and answered back, "Over there!"

Mile 12: 10:27
Approaching downtown, there's definitely discomfort at this point. I'm sure my expression wasn't pleasant, but I knew that if I could hold on I had a chance to do something special today. At one point, thoughts of walking were creeping in. I swept them aside, telling myself, "Yes, there are days when you need to walk. This is not one of them."

Mile 13: 10:51
I clung to my running cadence as I turned down Durango Street. After emerging from under the IH-37 overpass, I made my final turn. There's nothing quite like the sensation of just knowing the finish line of a race is just ahead. It's a heightened state of awareness that must be similar to what a predator experiences when its prey is in reach. Out of the sunshine, I plunged down a dimly lit ramp. Still barreling ahead at full speed, I darted under the finish clock and onto the floor of the Alamodome, fists in the air.

The poor announcer at the finish line stumbled over my name three times before giving up. I was so thrilled, I didn't care one bit!
Gun Time: 2:16:46
Chip Time: 2:13:35 (new half marathon PR)

Wow, what a ride!