Sunday, April 12, 2026

Race Report: Albuquerque Marathon

On April 11, I ran the inaugural Albuquerque Marathon.  The Albuquerque Half Marathon has been around for more than 20 years, but this was the first year they added a marathon option.

I had three reasons for running this race.  First, New Mexico is one of the states where I’m trying to get a second Boston qualifier.  There are limited opportunities in New Mexico, and this was the only one I could fit into my schedule this year.

We had hoped this trip to Albuquerque would give us an opportunity to visit Deb’s brother, who lives a couple hours away from there.  Finally, this trip gave us a chance to make a side trip to Santa Fe.  Neither of us had ever been there before.

Wednesday, April 8

Direct flights from Minneapolis to Albuquerque are seasonal.  In April, we have to make connections at one of the Delta hubs.  The hub that would make the most sense is Salt Lake City, but we couldn’t find flights through Salt Lake City that fit our schedule.  Our other options were Atlanta or Las Angeles.  Either way, it’s a long travel day.  We opted for the Atlanta route.

We arrived in Albuquerque in the late afternoon, and checked into a hotel near the airport.  I had just enough time to do a workout before dinner.

This hotel has an evening reception with appetizers on Wednesdays.  For Deb, that was all the food she needed for dinner.  I needed something more substantial, so I walked to a restaurant that was just down the block from our hotel.  We were up pretty early that morning, so we didn’t leave the hotel after dinner.

Thursday, April 9

Thursday was the day we were planning to visit Deb’s brother, Jim, and his wife, Kath.  Unfortunately, they both came down with a respiratory infection that’s been going around in the community where they live.  It wasn’t a good time for them to have visitors, and we didn’t want to risk catching what they had.

Instead, we drove to Santa Fe for the day.  The drive from Albuquerque to Santa Fe normally takes about an hour.  Because of road construction, the drive took almost two hours.

When we got to Santa Fe, we started our sightseeing on the Old Santa Fe Trail.  After a quick stop at the visitor center, we walked over to San Miguel Chapel, which is the oldest church in the United States.

Next, we visited the oldest house in the United States, which is now a museum with a gift shop.



Deb visited some nearby shops, while I visited Loretto Chapel, which is famous for this spiral staircase.

We browsed through a few more shops in that area before moving our car closer to the Santa Fe Plaza.

Around the plaza, there were numerous local artists selling their crafts.  We browsed for a while and then stopped for lunch at a café next to the plaza.

After lunch, we only had about an hour before we needed to move our car.  Deb started exploring more of the shops, while I visited The Cathedral Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi.

When we were done in that area, we drove to the railyard arts district.  Deb’s knee was starting to bother her, so we weren’t there very long before driving back to Albuquerque.

We had dinner at 66 Diner, which is a burger and malt shop on Route 66.  We discovered this place on our first trip to Albuquerque, back in 2008.

Friday, April 10

Something I ate on Thursday disagreed with me.  Halfway through the night, I woke up with an unsettled stomach.  For the rest of the night, I made frequent trips to the bathroom, and I couldn’t get back to sleep.  By the time I got up, everything I ate or drank on Thursday had gone through me.

When I got up, I felt weak, partly from lack of sleep, but mostly because I was dehydrated, and I didn’t have any food in my system.  I needed to rehydrate, but I had to do it gradually.  We didn’t leave the hotel until it was time to go to packet pickup.

Packet pickup started at 11:00 AM at a running store in Albuquerque.  I got there right at 11:00, so we could have the rest of the day to do more sightseeing.  By now, my digestive system seemed stable.

Since we had already been to Santa Fe, we were able to spend Friday afternoon driving the “Turquoise Trail” as far as Madrid.  We stopped at a few shops along the way, but we spent most of our time in Madrid, where there are numerous small craft shops and art galleries.  We didn’t buy anything in Santa Fe on Thursday, but we bought a few things on Friday.

It got hot in the afternoon, and when we got back, Deb wasn’t feeling well.  She stayed in for the rest of the day, so I was on my own for dinner.  I again walked to the restaurant that’s just down the block from our hotel.

When I left the hotel, the sky was as white as milk.  When I noticed how windy it was, I realized I was experiencing my first dust storm.  I’m really glad that didn’t happen while we were on the road.

I went to bed shortly after dinner, and I slept well all night.  I really needed that.

Saturday, April 11

Saturday was race day.  I woke up feeling much better than I did the day before.  The race didn’t start until 7:30, so I didn’t have to rush to get going.

The race started and finished near a church in the Rio Grande valley.  We were able to park at the church.

I arrived at the church about an hour early.  They were still setting up the finish area.  About 25 minutes before the race, I left my phone and warm-ups in the car and got in the bathroom line.  While I was waiting, I saw several hot air balloons.  I wanted to take a picture, but I no longer had my phone with me.

The temperature was in the mid-50s.  I expected it to get into the mid-60s by the time I finished, but I didn’t think that would be a big deal, since the humidity was low.  My last three races were all hot, but I was optimistic that this one would have favorable weather.  One thing I didn’t consider was the sun.  I was expecting it to be cloudy, but it was a sunny morning.

The elevation was about 5,000 feet above sea level.  Atmospheric pressure at this elevation is only about 83% of what it is at sea level.  That means I was taking in less oxygen with each breath.  My past experience is that my marathon time would be five to ten minutes slower at this elevation.  On a hilly course, it would slow me down even more.  Fortunately, this was a relatively flat course.

I’ve run a qualifying time at this elevation before, but I was in much better shape then.  None of my recent races have inspired much confidence.  To qualify, I was going to need a good race.

Deb and I had already been in Albuquerque for three days, but that’s not enough time to adapt to the higher elevation.  Everything I’ve read on the subject suggests that our timing was worst case.  Until your body adapts sufficiently, you feel slightly more tired each day.  Indeed, I felt fine on Wednesday and Thursday, but on Friday I was already finding that I got tired more easily.

Since arriving in Albuquerque, I hadn’t done any other running.  I knew the elevation would affect me, but I went into the race well-rested.

The qualifying standard for my age group is 4:05.  That’s an average pace of 9:21 per mile.  Often, I’ll aim for a time under four hours.  Just finishing in 4:05 was going to be difficult enough, so I didn’t try for anything faster.

There were 182 runners in the marathon.  The half marathon didn’t start until later.  With such a small field, there weren’t any pace groups.  I was on my own to set the right pace.

The elevation made it harder for me to know if I was starting at the right pace.  It didn’t feel like I was going fast, but I was breathing much harder than usual.  Was I starting too fast, or was that just the elevation?  When I finished my first mile, I saw that it was probably both.  I ran the first mile in 8:45.  Normally, that would be just fine, but at this elevation, it was too fast.

In the next mile, I throttled back my effort and let a few runners go by me.  After crossing a Bridge over the Rio Grande, we went down a ramp and turned onto a paved path in the river valley.  We went under the bridge and came up a small ramp on the other side.  It wasn’t a big hill, but it was enough to get me out of breath.

Even after the hill, I was still out of breath for a couple minutes.  I eased up some more and several other runners went by me.

My pace for mile two was 9:09.  That was better, but it was still faster than my target pace.  I eased up a little more, and more runners went by me.  In mile three, I hit my target pace.  Now, I just had to hold it.

We didn’t reach an aid station until early in the fourth mile.  After that, they were spaced about two miles apart.  That made it difficult to drink enough to stay hydrated.  The air was really dry, and the cups at the aid stations were small.  At many of them, I was drinking both water and Gatorade.

We were running south through the Rio Grande valley.  The trail we were on was fairly flat.  Over the next few miles, I tried to find runners I could follow who would keep me on the right pace.  Some miles were too fast and some were too slow, but on average, I was on the right pace for my goal.  It was distressing, however, how hard I was breathing at this pace.  I didn’t know for sure if my effort was unsustainable or if feeling short of breath was just going to be normal at this elevation.

In the middle of mile eight, we reached the southernmost point on the course.  We turned around and started heading north on a road that was parallel to the path we were on earlier.

I immediately found the pace to be more tiring.  It’s possible we were going slightly uphill here.  I started to fall behind the runners who had been right in front of me previously.  When I got my split for mile eight, it was a couple seconds too slow, but my effort felt unsustainable.

Then I noticed that we had a headwind.  I didn’t notice any wind when we were running in the other direction.  It wasn’t a strong wind, but the same pace now took a little more effort.  I tried hard to keep up the same pace, but mile nine was a few seconds slower than mile eight.

By now it was obvious to me that I couldn’t sustain this effort for another 17 miles.  I was almost at my aerobic limit.  On top of that, I was no longer going fast enough.  I realized at this point that I had to give up on a Boston qualifier.  It just wasn’t realistic.  I was upset with myself for giving up so early.  In retrospect, I should have given up on it much earlier.  I didn’t realize it yet, but I had run too close to my limit for too long, and it had already broken me.

In mile ten, I eased up.  I tried to find a pace that would be sustainable, but even after slowing down, I still found that the pace had me breathing hard.

I came to a confusing turn.  I saw that the runner ahead of me had turned left.  When I got there, I didn’t see where they went.  I was momentarily confused, but there were course marshals who were shouting at me.  I needed to keep turning left and go down a ramp before turning again to go under a bridge.  I hesitated for a few seconds, but then I saw where they were directing me.

After running under the bridge, I had to come up a small hill.  Then I paused to drink at an aid station.  Each of those things slowed me down.

Mile 10 took me 10 minutes, but the pace still wasn’t sustainable.  I kept slowing down.  I wasn’t keeping up with any of the runners around me.  A few more runners passed me in each mile.  My pace for mile 11 was 10:10.  In mile 12, it slowed to 10:24.  Mile 13 took 10:38.

At halfway, I was almost five minutes slower than my goal, but the worst was yet to come.

My pace stabilized in mile 14, but I started to feel the need to make a bathroom stop.  I remembered seeing on the course map that there were bathrooms along the route, but I couldn’t remember where they were.  I had to slow down a little more until I could make a stop.

In mile 15, I reached another confusing turn.  Again, there were course marshals who saw my hesitation and immediately pointed me in the right direction.  I turned onto a paved path and ran down a hill to reach a street that went under the bridge we had just crossed.  The runner in front of me made a U-turn onto the street.  I was about to follow him, but a volunteer told me I had to go straight here.  It took me a while to realize that the runner in front of me was in the 10K race.  Their course overlapped with ours.  I would eventually make that same U-turn, but not until much later in the race.

Just past the 15-mile mark, we turned onto a dirt trail.  Then I spotted a port-o-potty that was a short distance away from the trail.  It wasn’t put there for the race, but it was close enough to the trail that I took the opportunity to stop.

Ultrarunners have a saying.  “Beware the chair.”  As soon as I sat down, I realized how tempting it would be to pause long enough to catch my breath.  I had been out of breath since early in the race.  Even after slowing down, I was still breathing hard.

I resisted the temptation.  I finished as quickly as I could, and I made my way back to the trail.  Then I saw another runner making the same detour.

I was on the dirt trail for about a mile.  It was hard-packed, and it was fairly flat until just before we got back onto paved streets.  Then I had to go up a small hill.

My pace now was about a minute slower than it had been before my bathroom stop.  I was coming unglued.  I knew my time would be slow, but I needed to keep moving.  I just wanted to finish.

Surprisingly, there weren't as many runners passing me.  I was starting to pass a few runners who were taking walking breaks.

I was somewhere around 17 miles when another runner commented as she passed me that she was getting hot.  By now, it was about 60 degrees.  That wouldn’t normally feel that hot, but it was sunny, and much of the course was exposed to the sun.  At higher elevations, you really feel the difference between sun and shade.  It occurred to me that my shirt felt sweaty, in spite of the dry air.

At 18 miles, I finally succumbed to the temptation to take a walking break.  I had seen several other runners walking already.  I walked for a few minutes, but then another runner saw my Comrades Marathon shirt and encouraged me to start running.

Her name was Vanessa, and she wanted to know more about the Comrades Marathon.  We ran together for about a mile, and I told her why I like Comrades so much.

We reached a small hill leading up to a bridge, and I told Vanessa I needed to walk the hill.  She went ahead and said I would probably see her later.  I was skeptical that I would catch up again, but it turns out she was right.

As I started walking up the bridge, I met up with the same runner who had previously commented about being hot.  Her name was Kariann.  She was having foot cramps, so she also had to walk up the hill.

When I got to the top of the hill, I told Kariann I was going to run the downhill side.  She needed to keep walking, so I assumed I wouldn’t see her again.  I was wrong.

Now, we were on the shoulder of a busy street.  There was a line of orange traffic cones between us and the traffic lanes.

As I kept running along the street, I could see Vanessa a couple blocks ahead of me.  She was still running.  I occasionally needed a short walking break, so I kept falling farther behind.

On my left, I saw a pink adobe building with a sign indicating it was a farm-to-table restaurant.  Deb likes farm-to-table restaurants, so I tried to remember the name, in case Deb might wasn’t to go there for dinner.  In the next block, I saw an antique store, which is something else Deb likes.

As I kept running down this street, I noticed that Vanessa was turning her head to look back.  I saw her do this twice.  I wondered if she was looking to see if I was going to catch up to her.

My attention was somewhat unfocused, but the next time I looked forward, I saw that Vanessa had turned around and was now running toward me.  When she got closer, she said we had missed a turn.

I turned around and followed her back, looking to see where we had missed a turn.  What should have been obvious is that there were no longer any traffic cones between us and the traffic.

By this point in the race, it was a struggle to force myself to keep running.  It was even harder to force myself to run when it wasn’t even part of the course.  I was already broken physically.  Now, I was broken mentally as well.

As we continued to backtrack, we met another runner who had also missed the turn.  Eventually we saw it.  There was an intersection where the traffic cones went around a corner.  It was a sharper than 90-degree turn, which might explain how we didn’t notice it.

It’s worth noting that there wasn’t a course marshal at this turn.  All of the other turns had course marshals.  Before the race, the race director told us several times to follow the signs and follow the cones.

Did I miss the turn because it was such a sharp corner?  Did I miss it because I saw Vanessa going straight?  Did I miss it because I had “marathon brain.”  All I know for sure is that wouldn’t have realized I was off course if I didn’t see Vanessa coming back.  If I had been the first person to miss this turn, I hate to think how far off course I would have gone.

I was almost to the 20-mile sign, when my watch read 21 miles.  My missed turn caused me to run an extra mile.

I was back on course now, but I still had more than six miles to go.  My running had degenerated into a slow shuffle, and I kept taking walking breaks.

As I reached an aid station at 21 miles, I was intending to drink a cup of water and a cup of Gatorade.  I got out of breath as I tried to drink the water.  I finished that cup, but I wasn’t able to drink Gatorade as well.  This was more than just the elevation.  It was a symptom of heat stress.  It wasn’t even that hot yet.  It was probably only 65 degrees, but the sun was intense, and I was dehydrated.

To keep from just walking the rest of the way, I came up with a way to use the traffic cones to pace myself.  I forced myself to run for the next three traffic cones.  Then I would walk for one traffic cone.  I kept this up for the next three miles.

I eventually came to the same spot where a 10K runner had made a U-turn earlier.  Now, it was my turn to make the same U-turn.  I was almost to the 24-mile sign, and I saw Kariann a short distance ahead of me.  She was mostly walking.  I forced myself to run until I caught up to her.

She was still having foot cramps when she tried to run, so she was limited to mostly walking.  At this point, having someone to run with was more important than trying to go faster.  I ran with Kariann for the next two miles, although we were mostly walking.  Along the way, I learned that she also missed the same turn, but she didn’t go as far off course before seeing runners coming back.

With about a mile and a half to go, we crossed a bridge over the Rio Grande.  I recognized this as the same bridge we had crossed early in the race.  We were retracing the first mile of the race, but after passing the spot where we started, we would need to go another half mile to reach the finish line, which was closer to the church.

Early in the race, I remembered seeing an aid station that wasn’t set up yet.  We turned a corner and I saw it again.  There was nobody there.

I desperately needed to drink.  I saw two large dispensers and bags with paper cups.  I grabbed a cup and tried to fill it.  Both dispensers were empty.  I had to tough it out to the finish line.

When we reached the “26” sign, I told Kariann I was going to try to run the rest of the way.  She needed to keep walking.  I ran most of it, but there was one small hill that I needed to walk as I was coming into the church parking lot.

I’ve made reference to various hills where I needed to walk or slow down.  I can’t emphasize enough that this is a flat course.  I wouldn’t normally call these hills, but between the elevation and my struggles with the conditions, I had to slow down on anything that was even slightly uphill.

I finished the race in 5:13:40.  That was well over an hour slower than my original goal.  By the time I finished, it was 70 degrees, and the sun was still intense.  It’s worth noting, however, that I expected to be on the course this long.

I have to question whether qualifying for Boston twice in every state is still a realistic goal.  New Mexico is a problem.  I can think of only two other races where it’s even feasible, but neither is going to be easy for me.  Also, the other two are tough to fit into my schedule.

Finish line food included pizza and ice pops.  The RD said there was also ice cream, but I didn’t see where that was.  They had a variety of other snack foods, but I mostly needed water.  I didn’t see any bottled water, but they had cups and two large dispensers.  I drank one cup of water as I walked to my car.  I should have drank more.

When I got back to the hotel, I drank two bottles of water that I had in the fridge.  I was a wreck, so I didn’t leave the hotel again until it was time for dinner.

Sunday, April 12

We flew home on Sunday.  We were able to get a routing through Salt Lake City, so getting home didn’t take as long.  Our first flight wasn’t until noon, so we didn’t need to be in a rush to get going.

Neither of us felt like doing more sightseeing.  My Achilles tendons were so tight I could barely walk.  I usually find my strength training exercises to be a good recovery workout, but this was the exception.  A few exercises were difficult, and calf raises were almost impossible.  I also found my exercises to be more tiring than usual.

It wasn’t until Sunday that I looked up the official results.  Despite everything that went wrong, I placed second in the 60-69 age group.  Apparently, it was a tough day for everyone.

The time limit for the race was advertised as six hours, but I saw finish times as high as 6:25.  Even with the extra time, there were only 142 finishers out of 182 registered runners. 


Race statistics:
Official Distance:  26.2 miles
Distance I Actually Ran:  27.2 miles
Time:  5:13:40
Average Pace:  11:32 per mile
Place in Age Group:  second
Marathons/Ultras in 2026:  9
Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  581

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