Marathon Sunday was threatened with Oh-My-Gosh T-Storm Weather. The committee had sent out an ominous, literally 11th-hour email the night before with a map pointing out 26.2 miles of course evacuation shelter locations -- mostly underpasses, hospitals, and supermarkets.
I remembered the similarly gloomy forecasts we saw in 2007 and went to bed with wishes for a repeat of that year. I largely saw them come true. In the four hours I was out volunteering for Houston Marathon course monitor duties, I had my umbrella open for less than 20 minutes. The precipitation was mostly a misting, and nary a thunderbolt flickered anywhere near my ninth-mile post on Montrose Boulevard.
I've seen the Houston Marathon on television, and I had pinned a number on for the hoopla for the past five years, but this would be the first time I've experienced the whole spectacle in one spot from start to finish.
I had read about the small contingent of walkers that creep out onto the dark city sidewalks before the starting gun. I greeted these eventually-non-official finishers shortly after 6 o'clock.The wheelchair racers provided the first real race adrenaline of the morning. A quarter past seven, they zipped past faster than I can pedal my Schwinn! Another twenty or so minutes later, the Channel 13 chopper appeared overhead as the press trucks led the way for the men's and women's lead packs.
I remembered the similarly gloomy forecasts we saw in 2007 and went to bed with wishes for a repeat of that year. I largely saw them come true. In the four hours I was out volunteering for Houston Marathon course monitor duties, I had my umbrella open for less than 20 minutes. The precipitation was mostly a misting, and nary a thunderbolt flickered anywhere near my ninth-mile post on Montrose Boulevard.
I've seen the Houston Marathon on television, and I had pinned a number on for the hoopla for the past five years, but this would be the first time I've experienced the whole spectacle in one spot from start to finish.
I had read about the small contingent of walkers that creep out onto the dark city sidewalks before the starting gun. I greeted these eventually-non-official finishers shortly after 6 o'clock.The wheelchair racers provided the first real race adrenaline of the morning. A quarter past seven, they zipped past faster than I can pedal my Schwinn! Another twenty or so minutes later, the Channel 13 chopper appeared overhead as the press trucks led the way for the men's and women's lead packs.
After watching the elites and swift folk in tri-bikinis and track club singlets pass, it was time for our real work to begin as the mass pack arrived. Richmond Avenue is where the half and full marathon courses split. The 26.2-milers head straight, while the halfers turn around. To make this part smooth, we wanted the full marathoners in the right lane and half marathoners on the left. Otherwise, the area around the U-turn pylon could become a sweaty sneaker macro re-enactment of a particle collider in action.
We were cheering on runners just like everyone else standing on the curb. But when I saw a green or black bib in the right lane, it was time to gesture and holler:
"HALF MARATHONERS! YOU TURN IN TWO BLOCKS! MOVE TO THE LEFT! THANK YOU!"
Yeah, my badge was a license to yell this over and over, until I was going hoarse by the end of the morning.
The runners I was most worried about were the ones completely zoned out in whatever was playing in their headphones. Based on my experience, I have not figured out why anyone would choose to do this. First, headphones distract from being alert while running in the midst of a dense pack of hundreds of people. Second, it's not as if there's an absence of soundtrack: the course is generously dotted with live bands, encouraging spectators, live DJs and radio station vans.
Yes, runners, the people of Houston have come out to the streets early on a Sunday to show their love and support of you! Why shut them out and create a safety hazard for those running with you?
Okay, that's the end of my headphones rant. I feel like I've successfully vented now....
The grand variety of people taking part in Marathon Weekend continues to impress me. There was the early guy rocking the Scot-style with his blue-and-white St. Andrews Cross singlet. There were lots of folks in Katy Fit shirts that I made a point of giving an extra "Go Big Red!" There was the grey-haired woman who made my jaw drop with her "300th Marathon" shirt.
I am sorry that I never saw "Connie." I would have loved to see her reaction to this:
We were cheering on runners just like everyone else standing on the curb. But when I saw a green or black bib in the right lane, it was time to gesture and holler:
"HALF MARATHONERS! YOU TURN IN TWO BLOCKS! MOVE TO THE LEFT! THANK YOU!"
Yeah, my badge was a license to yell this over and over, until I was going hoarse by the end of the morning.
The runners I was most worried about were the ones completely zoned out in whatever was playing in their headphones. Based on my experience, I have not figured out why anyone would choose to do this. First, headphones distract from being alert while running in the midst of a dense pack of hundreds of people. Second, it's not as if there's an absence of soundtrack: the course is generously dotted with live bands, encouraging spectators, live DJs and radio station vans.
Yes, runners, the people of Houston have come out to the streets early on a Sunday to show their love and support of you! Why shut them out and create a safety hazard for those running with you?
Okay, that's the end of my headphones rant. I feel like I've successfully vented now....
The grand variety of people taking part in Marathon Weekend continues to impress me. There was the early guy rocking the Scot-style with his blue-and-white St. Andrews Cross singlet. There were lots of folks in Katy Fit shirts that I made a point of giving an extra "Go Big Red!" There was the grey-haired woman who made my jaw drop with her "300th Marathon" shirt.
I am sorry that I never saw "Connie." I would have loved to see her reaction to this:
In the nine o'clock hour, the river of humanity tapered down to a dribble. Here was the back-back-back-of-the-pack -- those unlikely to make the course limit and walking slowly enough that we no longer worried about pylon pile-ups. We continued to encourage everyone, though, even the last ones holding the sweep truck back.
I thought the excitement had wrapped up until the fire trucks came screaming up the boulevard. I jumped to the assumption of a race-related medical emergency until I saw firefighters toting axes in and out of the Dirk's Coffee . (Does anyone know what happened inside the shop?)
I thought the excitement had wrapped up until the fire trucks came screaming up the boulevard. I jumped to the assumption of a race-related medical emergency until I saw firefighters toting axes in and out of the Dirk's Coffee . (Does anyone know what happened inside the shop?)
Congratulations again to everyone who finished yesterday, whether it was your first or your 300th. I hope to be fortunate enough to be among you again soon.
1 comment:
Challenging run for me this year. Thanks for volunteering!
And I wear headphones...but normally have it turned pretty low so I still hear everything going on around me - I've just always needed a little background music :-)
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