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

Race Report: 2026 Mt. Charleston Marathon

I was registered to run the Revel Big Bear Marathon last November.  That race had to be cancelled because the road was washed out by heavy rains.  I had three choices.  I could switch to the half marathon, I could defer to this year, or I could get a credit, which could be used for any other Revel race.  I chose the credit.  I used my credit to register for the Mt. Charleston Marathon, which is in the Las Vegas area.

Like all Revel races, this one has a course that starts in the mountains, descends through a valley, and finishes in the city, at a much lower elevation.  There are uphill sections, but the vast majority of the course is downhill.  In all, there’s 5,126 feet of net descent.

I ran this race once before.  It’s the fastest marathon course I’ve ever run.  When I ran it in 2017, my time was 3:21:57.  To put that in perspective, my fastest recent time that year on a normal course was 3:49:33.  I was almost 28 minutes faster in the Mt. Charleston Marathon.

One of the reasons I ran at an aggressive pace in my last race was to see if I could run a time under 3:50 on a “normal” course.  If I could, I might be able to run Mt. Charleston as fast this year as I did in 2017.  The time I ran that year is roughly the time I would need to get into next year’s New York City Marathon as a time qualifier.

My last race didn’t go well.  I’m just not in good enough shape to break 3:50 on a course that isn’t downhill.  That told me I probably shouldn’t try for a New York qualifier this weekend.  Giving up on that goal was disappointing, but it was also liberating.  I could go into this race with the attitude that I would run whatever pace felt right and not try to push an unrealistic pace.

I flew to Las Vegas on Friday.  Rather than stay at a hotel on the “strip,” I chose to stay at a hotel near the finish line.  I’ve been to Las Vegas enough times that the hotels on the strip have lost their novelty.  I don’t gamble, and I wasn’t planning to see a show, so there wasn’t any good reason to stay there.

Before driving to my hotel, I stopped at the Rio Hotel & Casino to pick up my race packet.  An email from the race organizers showed which parking lot was closest to where the expo was located.  The Rio is as large as a shopping mall, and there are parking lots all around it, so it was nice to know where I should enter.

I saw a few people I know at the expo, including a member of the pacing team I ran with in San Antonio four weeks ago.

After checking in at my hotel, I went through my race packet and organized my clothes for the race.  Besides my race bib and T-shirt, the race packet included a pair of gloves and a few food items.

I had dinner at a Mediterranean restaurant that was a short walk from my hotel.

I needed to be up early, so I was motivated to get to bed as early as I could.  It helped that I was adjusting to a two-hour time zone difference.  My body was ready for bed right after dinner.

The race started at 6:00 AM at the Mt. Charleston Lodge, which is near the top of Kyle Canyon.  To get to the start, I had to take a bus.  Buses started loading at 3:15, with the last bus leaving at 4:15.  I had to drive a short distance from my hotel to get to the bus loading area, so I set my alarm for 2:30, with a goal of being on a bus by 3:45.

The bus loading area was close enough that I could have walked, but that would take longer.  Also, I didn’t know if I would feel like walking back after the race, so I drove there and parked.

When I got there, there were lots of cars already in the parking lot, and I saw people standing around.  Nobody seemed to be in any hurry to board a bus.  Finally, one of the volunteers started pleading with us to start getting on the buses.  It was almost 3:30, and the first bus had not left yet.  I ended up boarding the first bus, which left just a few minutes later.

The ride to the start area took about 45 minutes.  I assumed, since we were the first bus, that there wouldn’t be any lines for the port-o-potties.  I was wrong.  I forgot that there were also buses transporting runners from the “strip.”  A few of those buses had already arrived.

At this point, the lines were still fairly short.  I got in line and made my first bathroom stop.  Then I found a place where I could sit down.  I still had a long wait before the race started.

There were cabins surrounding the start area, and there were benches outside of some of the cabins.  I was lucky enough to find room on one of the benches.  I waited there until it was time to make another bathroom stop.  By now, the lines were longer.

One of the challenges with Revel races is the extreme temperature range you experience during the race.  It’s typically 20 degrees cooler at the higher elevations, so it’s not unusual to experience a difference of 30-40 degrees from start to finish.  Normally, that makes clothing decisions tough, since it’s freezing at the start, but hot in the late miles.

This year was an exception.  It was an unusually hot weekend.  The overnight low in Las Vegas was 70 degrees, so I expected the temperature in the start area to be about 50.  That’s warm enough that I could start the race in shorts.

For the long wait in the start area, I still had to wear extra layers.  The race organizers provided a gear check, so I didn’t have to rely on throwaway clothes.  I checked a gear bag with my wind pants and a warm hat, but I kept my jacket on and waited until just before the start to take it off and tie it around my waist.  I also started the race with gloves.

As I lined up to start the race, I could see the sunrise in the distance.  It was an obstructed view, but it was colorful.

The driveway out from the start area had us starting in one direction, and then making a U-turn onto the road.  As we came back on the road, the floodlights in the starting area made it difficult to see.  Race starts are always crowded.  When you can barely see the other runners, it’s even harder to avoid bumping into people.

Most of the course is downhill, but we had to run uphill for about a quarter mile before the road turned downhill.  With an elevation above 7,600 feet, you tire quickly running uphill.  I knew from experience that I should be patient and take this hill at a pace that wouldn’t tire me out too much.  There would be plenty of downhill miles where I could run fast.

I must have slowed down more than most of the other runners, because everyone was passing me on the hill.  Even though I was going slow, I still quickly got out of breath.

When I reached the top of the hill, it immediately got easier.  As I started running downhill, I made a conscious effort to keep my stride short and move my feet as quickly as I could.  I call that “spinning the wheels.”  I didn’t have to put effort into my forward progress.  Gravity took care of that.

I quickly caught my breath, and I got into a good rhythm.  I didn’t have any sense of what my pace was.  I just ran at a pace that felt right.  I didn’t overthink it or try to control it.

Now that we were descending, I noticed a cold draft.  It felt much colder on the road than it did in the start area.  Even with gloves on, my hands were getting cold.

My time for the first mile was 9:03.  That was slower than I expected, but it included a slow uphill section.  Mile two was all downhill, so that mile was faster.  I ran that mile in 8:03.

Those two miles were considerably slower than my starting pace nine years ago.  That framed my expectations.  I wouldn’t be running a time in the 3:20s this year.  I already expected to be slower this year, but now I knew for sure.

There were several turns in the first two miles.  When we were heading in the right direction, we got more views of the sunrise.  It was more colorful now, but I wasn’t going to stop to take pictures.

For the next two miles, my pace was just a little bit faster.  Then, right at four miles, I reached another uphill section.  This hill wasn’t as long or steep as the first one, but it forced me to slow down, and it also had me breathing harder.

At the end of that mile, we briefly left the road to run into a parking area, where we ran a short loop and then came back to the road.  The first half of that was uphill.  The second half was downhill.

Going uphill, I slowed down again, and the 3:40 pace group went by me.  That caused me to revise my expectations again.  I thought I would run a time in the 3:30s, but now it seemed more likely that I would run a time in the 3:40s.  That would still be much faster than I can run on a flat course.

As we got back onto the main road, I noticed that I was starting to catch up to the pace group now that I was running downhill again.  I eventually caught them, and for a few minutes I was talking with the 3:40 pacer.  I had run with him four weeks ago in San Antonio.

It was warm enough now that I no longer needed my gloves, so I took them off and stuffed them in my fanny pack.

There wasn’t much of a group with the 3:40 pacer.  That’s not surprising.  I never run with pace groups in downhill races, because your pace ebbs and flows depending on how steep the grade is.  It’s a mistake to try to keep your pace consistent.  To do that, you would need to resist the hill on the steeper sections.  That’s a good way to trash your quads.  In a race like this, the pacers serve as benchmarks.  You know how you’re doing by seeing which pace group you’re near and whether you’re ahead of them or behind them.

I stayed with the 3:40 pacer for a few minutes, but as the grade became steeper, I found myself speeding up and getting ahead of him.

Somewhere around seven miles, my friend Eliot caught up to me.  We ran together for the next five miles.  At one point, Eliot said he needed to slow down.  I was relieved, because I was finding his pace to be a bit tiring.  I was just trying to keep up with him, but he was trying to keep up with me.  Between us, we inadvertently pushed each other to a faster pace.

The aid stations had water and Gatorade, but the cups were small, and often they were only half full.  I realized by now that I wasn’t drinking enough.  For the rest of the race, I drank both water and Gatorade at every aid station.

The sun was getting higher in the sky, and we were often exposed to it.  When I was in the sun, I could feel its warmth.  I was already beginning to get hot.

Eventually, I started to feel pressure in my intestines, and I realized I would eventually need to make a bathroom stop.  The aid station at 11 miles had a row of port-o-potties.  I was tempted to stop.  I didn’t because I wanted to keep up with Eliot.

Almost immediately after that aid station, I regretted not stopping.  I was more certain than ever that I would need to stop at the next one.  Eliot pointed out that there would be lots of port-o-potties at the halfway mark, because that was also the half marathon start.

I kept up with Eliot for another mile, but then I had to slow down and let him go ahead on his own.  I don’t know if the pace was getting too tiring or if it was tough to maintain that pace when I was trying to hold out until I could make a bathroom stop.

Earlier, the 3:40 pacer had told me the next uphill section would come at 12 miles.  Shortly after passing the 12-mile mark, I turned a corner, and I could see a section of road ahead that was uphill.  This hill slowed me down a little, but not as much as the earlier hills.

My next opportunity to make a bathroom stop came shortly after the 13-mile mark.  The port-o-potties were just before the water tables at the halfway mark.

Some bathroom stops are longer than others.  Some are messier than others.  This was a messy one, which also made it a long one.  I was losing a lot of time, but that couldn’t be avoided.  When I was done, I was happy to see that the port-o-potty had an ample supply of hand sanitizer.

After my long bathroom stop, I paused at the aid station to drink a cup of Gatorade and a cup of water.  Then I used another cup of water to do a better job of washing my hand.

As I left the aid station, I was at the halfway mark.  My time for the first half was 1:51.  While I was running with Eliot, we were on pace for a time in the low 3:30s.  Now I was on pace for 3:42.  It was actually worse than that.  I had every reason to expect the second half to be slower.  There’s less total descent in the second half.  Also, it would keep getting hotter.

The temperature was climbing rapidly as I descended.  By now, the temperature was in the upper 60s.  By the time I finished, it would get up into the 80s.

After my bathroom stop, I started to feel soreness in my calves.  My left calf was unusually tight.  I think some of my muscles tightened up when I made my bathroom stop.  For too long, I wasn’t moving, and my muscles had time to cool down.

Running downhill works your calves more, and you also strike the ground harder.  For the rest of the race, my calves were causing me discomfort.

Up until now, I hadn’t noticed much wind.  Now, I noticed a headwind.  Between my bathroom stop, which caused me to cool down, and the cooling effect of the wind, my hand started to get cold.  A short time earlier, I was getting hot.  Now, my fingers were turning white.  That lasted for about a mile.

When my watch gave me a split for mile 14, I finally found out how much time I lost during my bathroom stop.  It was at least four minutes.  I had to wait for my next split to find out how fast I was running now.

My pace for mile 15 was in the 8:20s.  In mile 16, I slowed to the 8:30s.  Then, in mile 17, I slowed to the 8:40s.  Interestingly enough, I was still keeping up with most of the runners around me.  I was even passing a few of them.  The course just wasn’t as fast here.  It was still downhill, but the grade was much more gradual now.  The same effort resulted in a slower pace.

I saw one runner who seemed to be passing people, so I lifted my effort enough to keep up with her.  That resulted in bringing my pace back down into the 8:30s.  Then she suddenly moved over to the shoulder and stopped to catch her breath.

I saw a lot of that in the second half of the race.  Runners would suddenly stop and walk or stop to work on a cramp.   As it got hotter, everyone was struggling.

My pace slowed into the 8:50s.  I knew I couldn’t run as fast in the late miles, but I worked hard to keep my pace under nine minutes per mile.

At 21 miles, we left the road we had been on and turned onto one that was flatter.  From here on out, it no longer felt like a downhill race.  Now, it was a normal race, and I could only maintain my pace by working harder.  I couldn’t quite maintain the same pace, and I wore myself out by trying.

In mile 22, I slowed to 9:11.  I did the math and realized that I wasn’t even going to break 3:50.  It got worse from there.  In mile 23, I slowed to 9:48.

I was getting desperately thirsty.  I drank as much as I could at each aid station, but a few minutes later my mouth would feel dry again.

Just past 23, we turned and went up a ramp.  I slowed a little going uphill, but it didn’t cause me to get short of breath.  We were at a low enough elevation now that hills weren’t as devastating.

At the top of the ramp, I turned a corner and saw that it was still uphill for as far as I could see.  It was gradual, but I still had about half a mile of uphill running.

I worked hard to keep up with anyone else who was still running.  I passed anyone who was walking the hill.

By the time I reached the top of that hill, I could see the “24” sign in the distance.  When I got there, I found out that I had slowed to 10:33 in that mile.  I was relieved that I didn’t slow down more.

It was only now that I realized how hot I was getting.  The air was so dry that perspiration evaporates quickly.  You don’t realize how much you’re sweating.  For the first time, my clothes actually felt sweaty.

It occurred to me that I had been overheating for several miles, but I wasn’t consciously aware of it, because I didn’t feel sweaty until now.

It also occurred to me that I should have been pouring water over my head or onto my shirt at the aid stations.  In these dry conditions, that would be very effective in cooling me down.  Now, it was too late.

The next mile was flat, so I knew it wouldn’t be any slower than the previous mile, which was mostly uphill.  I sped up a little, but it was still my second slowest mile of the race.

As I started the last mile, I saw I was about to cross a bridge.  It was slightly uphill getting onto the bridge, but then it was downhill.  As soon as I reached the downhill section, I worked to pick up my pace a little.

Just around the next turn, there was an aid station.  I had to stop briefly to drink, but as I resumed running, I noticed this street was slightly downhill.  The pavement was rough, which made it uncomfortable, but I tried to use the downhill slope to pick up my pace.

A volunteer said we would turn at the next light and then we would see the finish line.  I could see where the light was, but it was still several blocks away.  When I got there, I still couldn’t see the finish line.

The road we turned onto curved to the left.  I had to get partway around the bend before I could see the finish area.  I could see tents, but I couldn’t see the finish line.

I passed the “26” sign and continued around the bend until the road straightened out.  I could see the finish line now, but it wasn’t in front of me.  We had to run past it and then make a U-turn before finally running toward it.  I finished in 3:52:27.

It seemed like they were doing triage at the finish line to identify runners with medical issues.  One person handed me a wet washcloth, another handed me a water bottle, and a third seemed to be checking out whether I was OK.  I must have looked like hell, but I was OK.  Mostly, I needed water.  I drank as much as I could during the race, but I was definitely dehydrated.

I was almost done drinking my water when I reached the volunteers with the finisher medals.  The medal has a spinner inside of another spinner.

Before I left the finisher chute, I was handed a bag with post-race snacks.  It’s nice when they have pre-assembled bags, so it’s easy to carry everything.

Another nice feature of this race was the results tent.  Right after finishing, they’ll look up your result and print a card like this one.

Downhill courses like this one have become a cottage industry in recent years.  Everybody is trying to get an edge for qualifying for Boston, whether it’s faster shoes or a faster course.  The organizers of the Boston Marathon recently changed their rules to try to level the playing field.  For races that descend more than 1,500 feet, they add five minutes to your time.  For races than descent more than 3,000 feet, they add 10 minutes.  For races that descend more than 6,000 feet, they add 15 minutes.

For this course, the time “penalty” is 10 minutes.  The qualifying standard for my age group is 4:05, but on this course, I needed a time of 3:55 or faster.  I did that, but not by a wide margin.  Still, it was nice to see that on my results card.

Next, I made my way to the beer garden.  I saw several friends at this race, and a bunch of us were hanging out in the beer garden.  We sat at the only table that was in the shade.  I ate a few items from my bag of post-race snacks, but I saved the rest for when I got back to the hotel.

The finish area was about a mile from where I caught the bus to the start.  They had shuttles to take us back there.  Ordinarily, I could have walked, but my left calf was so tight that I could only take tiny steps.  On the bright side, I wasn’t noticing any inflammation in my Achilles tendons.  They’ve been chronically tight for the last few months, so that was a concern.

After getting dropped off by the shuttle, I drove back to the hotel.  I was glad I didn’t have to walk that distance.

When I got back to the hotel, it was noon.  I made a lunch out of my remaining post-race snacks.

After taking one of the longest showers of my life, I worked on massaging and stretching my calf muscles.  I also did some gentle stretching of my Achilles tendons.

When I was sufficiently rehydrated, I went to the hotel’s hot tub.  The pool area was outside, so I was happy so see that the hot tub was in the shade.  I was able to position my legs so the jets helped massage my calves.  My calves were starting to feel better, but my Achilles tendons got tighter later in the day.

I was still on an early to bed, early to rise schedule, so I had an early dinner and went to bed early again.  I wasn’t sleepy yet, but I was too tired to do anything else.  It took a while to get to sleep, but then I crashed pretty hard.

Most people who ran this race probably woke up the next morning with sore quads.  I hardly noticed my quads.  Instead, I had sore glutes.  At first, I could barely maintain my balance to walk to the bathroom.

By maintaining a rapid cadence during the steep downhill miles, I was able to keep from beating up my quads.  The price I paid was overworking my glutes.  In the past, I’ve kept those muscles strong by race-walking, but I haven’t done any race-walk training this year.

The soreness in my glutes will be gone in a day or two.  I’m more concerned about my Achilles tendons.  My left Achilles tendon is especially tight.  Until it gets better, I’m putting extra padding under my left heel to reduce the tension when I walk.

Race statistics:

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  3:52:27

Average Pace:  8:52 per mile

First Half:  1:51:00

Second Half:  2:01:27

Marathons/Ultras in 2026:  8

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  580

Boston Qualifiers in 2026:  5

Lifetime Boston Qualifiers:  192

Race Report: 2026 Tobacco Road Marathon

On March 15, I ran the Tobacco Road Marathon in Cary, NC, which is in the Raleigh/Durham area.  This race is held on the American Tobacco Trail, which is a trail built on a former railroad line.

I ran this race once before.  That was 15 years ago, when I was in the best shape of my life.  Back then, I ran this race in 3:07:18, which is an average pace of 7:09 per mile.  Now, I can’t even run that fast in a 5K race.  I wasn’t looking forward to seeing how much I’ve slowed down in the last 15 years.

I had all sorts of drama with flights.  I was originally scheduled to fly to Raleigh on Saturday, on a direct flight.  Delta changed their flight schedule, and they rebooked me on a flight that wouldn’t get me to Raleigh until after packet pickup had ended.  To get there on time for packet pickup, I had to make connections in Atlanta, and my flight to Atlanta would’ve left at 5:15 AM.  So far, this was just like my recent trip to San Antonio, but it didn’t end there.

On Friday, I got a notification that my flight might be affected by a winter storm, and I had the option of changing my flight at no cost.  As far as I knew, the storm wasn’t supposed to arrive until Saturday afternoon, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

I called Delta, and I was able to switch to a direct flight that left Friday afternoon and would get me to Raleigh around 6:00 PM.  By the time I made that change, I barely had time to pack a few last-minute things and drive to the airport.

When I got to the airport, I found out that my flight was delayed by about an hour.  That wasn’t the worst possible news.  I no longer had to stress about getting through security in time.  It also gave me time to make a few phone calls.  I had to change my hotel and rental car reservations.

I arrived in Raleigh around 7:00 Friday evening.  My hotel was close to the airport, so it didn’t take long to get there.  I’m not used to arriving so late in the day, so I got to bed later than usual.  Thankfully, both the hotel and the rental car company were able to accommodate me.

One nice thing about arriving on Friday is that I didn’t have to get up early to catch a flight Saturday morning.  I was able to sleep as late as I could and enjoy breakfast at the hotel.

Packet pickup was at the USA Baseball National Baseball Complex, which is also where the race started and finished.  While I was there, I could see people setting up the start/finish area for the race.

The day before a race is normally a rest day.  I never had time to go for a run on Friday, so went for a run on Saturday instead.  I used my run as an opportunity to refamiliarize myself with the American Tobacco Trail.  I drove to a parking area at the northern end of the marathon course.  I ran south along the trail for a few miles and then turned around and came back.

My recollection is that the trail was gravel, so I was surprised to see that this section was paved.

I had an early dinner at a pizza place just a few miles from my hotel.  Then I relaxed at my hotel and turned in early.

From the forecast I saw on Saturday, I was expecting it to be in the upper 40s at the start, but warm up into the upper 50s.  My legs don’t respond well to cold temperatures, so I was planning to wear tights and hope I wouldn’t get too warm later in the race.

When I got up Sunday morning, it was 54 degrees.  The hourly forecast still showed the temperature dropping into the 40s before warming up again, so I stuck with my decision to wear tights.  I decided to also bring a pair of shorts, in case I wanted to change my mind after I got to the race.

The race started and finished at USA Baseball.  Parking there is limited.  Those who registered early enough could buy a parking permit.  If you didn’t have a parking permit, you had to park at a remote parking lot and take a bus.  I was lucky enough to get a parking permit, which made my morning much easier.  I didn’t have to get up as early, and I didn’t need to bother with the gear check.  I was able to leave my extra layers in the car when I went to line up for the start.

An hour before the race, the temperature was still 54 degrees.  The hourly forecast had been updated.  Now, it wasn’t going to cool off any more.  I knew I would likely get too warm in tights, but I apparently forgot to bring my shorts with me.  They weren’t in the bag with my other race gear.  I was now committed to wearing tights.

As I was in the bathroom line, I heard people commenting about the humidity.  I didn’t feel it yet, but this was another ominous sign that I was probably overdressed.

I set a goal of 3:50.  The last time I ran that fast was last October, in Chicago.  This year, I’ve struggled just to break four hours.  I’d like to think I just haven’t had the right course under the right conditions.  This is a relatively flat course, so I decided to go for it, even if the conditions weren’t ideal.  I wanted to test myself.

They had pace groups, and one of the groups was a 3:50 group.  I met one of the 3:50 pacers in the start area, and I looked for him in the start corral.  As it turns out, the other 3:50 pacer is a runner I’ve met before.

Although we would mostly be running on the American Tobacco Trail, we had to run on city streets for just over two miles to get to the trail.  This part of the course has some hills.

The first mile is always chaotic, because it’s congested, and people are starting at different paces.  Sometimes that causes a pace group to take the first mile a little slow.  These two pace leaders got up to speed quickly.  I did my best to stay right behind them.  The pace felt fast, but I challenged myself to stay with them.

As we started climbing a hill, I found myself unable to keep up with the pace group.  I kept them in sight, but I couldn’t catch up until we turned a corner and started running downhill.  Even then, I had to work hard to catch up.

When we finished that mile, it confirmed my impression that we were starting fast.  Our target pace was 8:46, but we ran the first mile in 8:27.

I was hopeful that we would ease up in the second mile.  We did ease up a little, but not as much as I hoped.  That mile was 8:33, which is still fast.

I started the race with gloves, but I took them off just before we reached an aid station.  I knew I wouldn’t need them for the whole race, and I didn’t want to risk getting Gatorade on them.

Early in the third mile, we reached the trail.  Runners doing the half marathon turned left to do a long out-and-back on the southern section of the trail.  Those of us doing the marathon turned right to do a long out-and-back on the northern section.  Without the half marathon runners, the course wasn’t as crowded.  Now, it was easier to see who was in our pace group.

The first section of trail was gravel, but it wasn’t loose.  It probably had a lot of clay, because it was very firm.

Shortly after we got onto the trail, I started to notice a cool breeze.  My hands quickly got cold.  I expected to get hot later, so I wasn’t too worried about it.  The longer my hands felt cold, the better.

In mile three, we sped up slightly.  Through three miles, we were averaging 8:30 per mile.  The fast pace was taking a toll on me.  I still felt like I was working hard to keep up with the group.

After about a mile on the trail, the surface changed to pavement, but there was still a strip on one side that was gravel.  I ran on the pavement, but some runners chose to move over to the side that was gravel.

Over the next several miles, our pace moderated slightly, but it was still fast.  I was getting mile splits ranging from 8:28 to 8:40.  Some miles were faster than others, but we never had a slow mile.  The pacers didn’t seem too concerned that we were running fast, but I was working much harder than I should be this early in a race.

At times, one of the pacers would comment that we were on a hill.  If there were hills, they were very gradual.  It always looked and felt flat to me.

Just past the eight-mile mark, we reached the northern turnaround.  I briefly fell behind at an aid station and had to work hard to catch up.  I didn’t know how much longer I could do that.

We were almost to 12 miles when I began losing contact with the group.  I could see the handwriting on the wall.  The work it would take to stay with the group would break me.  As it is, I probably waited much too long to abandon the pace.

I never noticed what my time was for mile 13, but I reached the halfway point a minute ahead of schedule.  I could barely see the pace group by now, so they may have been as much as two minutes ahead of schedule.

I was still on pace for 3:50, but I knew that wouldn’t last much longer.  I was hoping I could still break four hours, but I worried that the wheels were coming off.

My pace for mile 14 was 9:25.  I knew I was slowing down, but I was surprised to have slowed down that much already.  With 12 miles to go, I tried to figure out what pace I would need the rest of the way to finish in four hours.  My best guess was something in the low 8:30s.

The trail was well-shaded, but soon we came into a clearing.  For the first time I felt the sun.  I started to feel hot, but only until we got back into shade.  I no longer had cold hands.

Soon, we crossed the street where we had turned onto the trail.  Then we continued onto the southern part of the course to begin another long out-and-back.  Runners doing the half marathon were already on their way back.

I worked harder to keep up with the runners around me.  In mile 15, I sped up slightly to 9:21.  Then, in mile 16, I sped up to 8:50.  After running fast for one mile, I settled back into my previous pace in the next one.

The northern part of the course always seemed flat.  The southern part definitely had uphill sections and downhill sections.  I could barely see the difference, but I could definitely feel it.  Mile 16 was evidently a downhill mile.  Mile 18 was an uphill mile.  I slowed to 9:50 in that mile.  I took solace in knowing that mile was balanced by the 8:50 I ran in mile 16.  On average, my pace in recent miles was in the 9:20s.

The 19-mile mark came just after the turnaround at the southern end of the course.  In that mile, I sped up to 9:10.  Right after the turn, I realized I had been running downhill.  Coming back, it was uphill, and it drained the life from me.  I slowed down to 10:00 in that mile.

I was starting to have serious doubts about breaking four hours.  The next mile was downhill.  It should have been a fast mile.  Instead, it was 8:32.  That was about what I needed to average.  What would happen in miles that were level or uphill?  I didn’t have to wait long to find out.

Mile 22 seemed fairly level, but it took me 9:49.  There was no question I was slowing down.  Mile 23 was uphill, and I ran it in 10:34.

When I reached the 10-mile sign for the half marathon, I had 3.1 miles to go.  I did a quick calculation that confirmed that I no longer had any realistic chance of breaking four hours.

I still had one more goal worth fighting for.  I was still on pace to break 4:05, and that would be a Boston qualifier for my age group.

In the next mile, we left the trail and turned back onto city streets.  We needed to retrace our route back to the start/finish area at USA Baseball.  This section has rolling hills.

For the rest of the race, there wasn’t much shade.  The temperature was much warmer than it had been at the start of the race, and now I could feel the sun on me.  It’s likely that my deterioration over the previous four miles was caused, in part, by the rising temperatures and the humidity.  Direct sunlight only made it tougher.

My time for mile 24 was 10:25.  I was on pace to break 4:05, but if I slowed down any more, I might be cutting it close.

Mile 25 was rolling.  It was more up than down, so I was encouraged when I kept my pace under 10 minutes.  I knew mile 26 would have a nice downhill section, but first I had to run uphill.

I struggled going up a hill, turned a corner, and saw it was still uphill.  I grabbed a cup of water at the last aid station and walked while I drank it.  I couldn’t drink while running up a hill.

I regained my composure on a brief downhill section, but then there was one more hill.  I struggled with this one.  I needed to limit the damage.  I couldn’t walk or slow down too much.

Finally, I made the last major turn, and I started down a hill.  This is the same hill where I fell behind my group in mile one while running up the hill.  From here to the finish, it was much easier.

When my watch gave me a split for mile 26, it was under 10 minutes.  My watch was consistently giving me splits prematurely, so I knew I was still well short of 26 miles.  I couldn’t even see the “26” sign yet.

I had to get past the “26” sign before the finish line came into sight.  My friends, Julie and Miles, were watching for me near the finish line.  I heard Julie yell my name, and I looked just in time to see her.

I finished in 4:02:29.  For the third time this year, I got a Boston qualifier, but failed to break four hours.

How much slower was I now compared to 15 years ago?  Then, my average pace was 7:09.  This year, it was 9:15.  I’ve slowed down by more than two minutes per mile.

I felt hot in the last two miles, and the heat was probably affecting me much earlier.  I didn’t realize how hot I was until after I finished.  Then I felt hot and sweaty.

Finisher medals have been getting larger in recent years.  This medal was definitely a part of that trend.  It had a railroad theme, which was appropriate.

There were volunteers offing water bottles, but I didn’t take one.  I already had water in my car.

Anyone who qualified for Boston could get an extra T-shirt.  I didn’t ask for one.  I already have too many T-shirts.  I also didn’t eat any of the post-race food.  Instead, I saved room for lunch.

After I had time to go back to my hotel and get cleaned up, I joined Julie and Miles for a late lunch.  We had a nice visit.

I spent the rest of the day resting at the hotel.  I didn’t go out again.  I had dinner at the hotel’s restaurant.

I don’t need to fly home until Monday.  That’s just as well, because Minnesota is getting hit with a major winter storm.  Hopefully, the storm will be done before my flight home.  The drama with flights might not be done yet.

Race statistics:

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  4:02:29

Average Pace:  9:15 per mile

First Half:  1:53:59

Second Half:  2:08:30

Marathons/Ultras in 2026:  7

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  579

Boston Qualifiers in 2026:  4

Lifetime Boston Qualifiers:  191

Race Report: Run the Alamo 26.2

On March 1, I ran the Run the Alamo Marathon in San Antonio, TX.  I’ve never been to San Antonio before, so this was a chance to not only experience a new race but also see a new city.

I flew to San Antonio on Saturday.  I had originally booked a direct flight, but Delta changed their flight schedule, eliminating the only direct flight that would get me there in time for packet pickup.  I was able to rebook on flights that would get me there in the early afternoon, but I had to leave Minneapolis at 5:15 AM.  That meant getting up way too early.

I was at the airport at 3:45.  After I got through security, I found out my flight to Atlanta was delayed.  They had to get a new plane, and the new departure time was 7:15.  I had a two-hour connection in Atlanta, so a two-hour delay meant I had no chance of making my connection.

I was able to get on a different flight to Atlanta, but it only left 15 minutes earlier.  That gave me a very tight connection, but at least I had a chance.  Just in case I missed it, they also reserved a seat for me on the next flight from Atlanta to San Antonio.  As I was waiting to board my 7:00 flight, I really regretted waking up so early.

After that, my luck got better.  My flight to Atlanta arrived early, and my next flight departed from the same concourse, allowing me to get to the gate while they were still boarding.  Despite all the drama, I arrived in San Antonio by 12:30.

The host hotel for the race was the Menger Hotel, which is one of the closest hotels to The Alamo.  I’m sure it’s a fine hotel, but I chose to stay a few blocks away at Hilton Palacio del Rio.  This hotel was closer to where the race started and finished.  It was also right on the San Antonio Riverwalk.

I needed to take a taxi from the airport to the hotel, but after that I could walk to everything, so I didn’t need to rent a car.

My first order of business after checking in at the hotel was to pick up my race packet.  Packet pickup was at the Intercontinental San Antonio Riverwalk.  That was about a 15-minute walk from my hotel.

If there’s one thing you need to see in San Antonio, it’s The Alamo.  That was my next stop after dropping off my race packet at the hotel.  You need a ticket, but it doesn’t cost anything.  You just need to go online and book it.

When you see pictures of The Alamo, the building usually pictured is the church, which was originally a Spanish mission.  This was my first stop.

After touring the church, I visited the Long Barrack and the various monuments and battlements around Alamo Plaza.  Other sections were closed for a private event.

I had been up early, and I never had lunch.  By the time I got back from The Alamo, I was starving.  I ate an early dinner.  Then I did my best to catch up on sleep.  It was best I slept before a race in months.

The race started at sunrise, which was at 6:59.  I was dressed and ready an hour before that.  I couldn’t figure out the fancy coffee maker in my room, so I went down to a Starbucks in the hotel lobby to get a cup of tea and a muffin.

The start/finish area was in the plaza in front of the Henry B. Gonzales Convention Center.  It was basically across the street from my hotel, so it didn’t take long to get there.  In particular, I didn’t have to bother with port-o-potty lines.  My hotel was close enough that I didn’t need to make any additional bathroom stops after leaving the hotel.

The weather was on the warm side.  It was 66 degrees at the start.  The forecast high was in the 80s, but I only expected it to get into the low 70s by the time I finished.  I started out with a goal of four hours.  I expected to be comfortable with that pace in the first half.  I had to wait and see how the heat affected me in the second half.

The race started with a cannon blast.  I was lined up with the 4:00 pace group.  As the people in front of me started moving, I had to pay close attention to keep from getting separated from the leaders of the pace group.

The first few miles were through the downtown area.  There were several turns, and it was congested.  I had to keep an eye on the pace leaders, while also watching my footing.  In the early miles, we ran on a variety of surfaces, including cobblestones.  I also had to watch out for reflectors on the lane lines.

In the downtown area, we were running between tall buildings.  That always causes GPS watches to give misleading distances.  Often, our watches didn’t have a direct line of sight to the GPS satellites.  The signals would reflect off the buildings.

There were mile markers, but they were small.  The pace leaders were able to spot them, but I didn’t see the first few.  I just followed the group and trusted them to keep us on the right pace.

For the first mile or two, we were going a little faster than our target pace.  When the pace leaders noticed that, they eased up.  I had to ease up too, to make sure I didn’t get too far ahead of them.

Although the pace felt easy, I was already feeling the humidity.  I had doubts about how realistic this pace would be as it started to warm up.

I was frequently talking to two other runners in the group.  We were often running in front of the group, so we kept an eye on each other, and we’d occasionally look back to see where the pace leaders were.

When we got out of the downtown area, we started running through the river valley.  Early, the course had been fairly flat, but now it was rolling.  A lot of the course was out-and-back near the river, but occasionally, we would turn onto a shorter out-and-back segment before returning to the river.

Near the river, we were sometimes on sidewalks, and it wasn’t really wide enough for a large pace group.

At about nine miles, the marathon and half marathon courses diverged.  Without all the half marathon runners, the course was no longer congested.

About this same time, we started a long downhill segment before crossing a bridge over the river.  I asked one of the pacers when we would have to go back up that hill.  He said we’d reach that hill in mile 22.

There were a few sections where we took a different route going out than we did coming back.  One such section was running through Mission San Jose around mile 12.

Our watches were all giving us different distances, and nobody’s watch agreed with the mile markers.  My watch seemed to consistently read lower than anyone else’s watch.  By my watch, we were a little bit behind schedule at the halfway point.  Others felt we were on schedule or ahead of schedule.

From 14 to 16 miles, we were running along one side of the river.  We had a slight headwind, which helped offset the heat and humidity.  From 16 to 18 miles, we were on the opposite side of the river, and we had a tailwind.  The tailwind did nothing to help cool us down.  I immediately noticed the difference after we crossed the river.

Up until now, I had no trouble keeping up with the group, but I had to work harder on the uphill segments.  Without the cooling effect of the breeze, I had serious doubts about whether I could stay on pace for the rest of the race.  If I couldn’t, my backup goal was 4:05.  That would still be a Boston qualifier.

Most of the aid stations had water and Gatorade.  I was drinking whichever was easier to grab from a volunteer.  A few aid stations had pickle juice, and a few had Coke.  At one of the aid stations, I accidentally grabbed a cup of pickle juice, thinking it was Gatorade.  I immediately followed it with a cup of Coke.

There were a few people in our group running their first marathon.  At 17 miles, one of them told us he would need to drop back and continue at his own pace.  We all gave him advice and words of encouragement.  I considered dropping back to stay with him, but I still felt like I had a good chance of breaking 4:05.  Two other first-timers were still with the group, so I stayed with the group too.

We were almost to 19 miles when the sun came out.  Up until then, we had cloud cover.  I had been hoping it wouldn’t get sunny until after I finished.  Now that I could feel the sun, I found the heat more challenging.  Soon, I began to fall behind the group.

We reached an aid station, and that gave me a chance to catch up.  While everyone else was walking through the aid station, I drank my water on the run.  That allowed me to not only catch up back actually get ahead of them.  It was only a matter of time, though, before I fell behind again.

In mile 20, I was on my own, but I was still running at a pace that would bring me in under 4:05. Then, I started to feel pressure building in my intestines.  At first, it forced me to slow down, so I could hold it in.  As I continued, it became apparent that I would need a bathroom stop.

As I started up a small hill, I saw a picnic area at the top.  I walked up the hill, hoping I could make a bathroom stop, but there were no bathrooms there.

After cresting the hill, I resumed running.  Then I saw an aid station at the top of the next hill.  I walked this hill as well.  When I reached the aid station, I asked a volunteer if there were any bathrooms there.  He said there were, but they were somewhat off the course at the top of a hill.  I detoured off the course and walked up the hill to reach a set of port-o-potties.

When I was done with my bathroom stop, I felt much better.  I ran back down the hill to the aid station, where I drank a cup of Coke and a cup of Gatorade.

Shortly after the aid station, my watch gave me a split for mile 21.  It was more than three minutes slower than the previous mile.  At this point, I no longer had a realistic chance of breaking 4:05.

The next mile had the long hill that we had run down much earlier in the race.  I ran most of it, but I had to walk the steepest section.  There was no longer any point in fighting for a faster pace.  Now, I just wanted to keep moving and eventually finish.

I ran that mile and the next one in 11 minutes each.  I felt like the heat had broken me.  At this slower pace, I would break 4:15, but not by much.

Then I spotted another runner who had dropped back from the pace group.  His name was Aaron, and he was one of the runners doing his first marathon.  I ran with Aaron for the rest of the race, so he wouldn’t have to do the toughest miles by himself.  I knew those miles would be slow, but I had a renewed sense of purpose now.

Aaron was having leg cramps, but he soldiered on.  He ran when he could and walked when he had to.  I stayed with him at whatever pace he could manage.

As we came back into the downtown area, we ran on the San Antonio Riverwalk, right alongside the water.  In the last mile, we left the Riverwalk and made multiple turns on streets I didn’t recognize.  I could recognize some of the buildings, including my hotel, but I didn’t know all the turns.

It wasn’t until the last turn that we could see the finish line.  Aaron sprinted for the line.  I didn’t have a faster gear, so I followed at the best pace I could manage.  I finished in 4:16:11.

The finisher medal was huge.  It’s shaped like a stagecoach, and it flips open to reveal additional artwork.

After I got my medal, I turned around to look for Melissa.  She was another runner who had been with the 4:00 group for at least half of the race before falling behind.  I spotted her on a short out-and-back segment with about three miles to go, so I knew she wasn’t too far behind us.

Melissa finished in 4:17.  Her previous best was 4:30, so this was a massive PR for her, in spite of tough conditions.

Besides the medal, there was also a finisher jacket.  That’s in addition to the T-shirt I got when I picked up my race packet.  The jacket was a light gray windbreaker with a hood.

After getting my jacket, I picked up a basket of post-race food and sat down to talk to a few other runners while I ate.  Then I got my post-race beer and sat down with a few members of the pacing team while I finished my beer.  I was within sight of my hotel, so I didn’t feel any need to rush back to the hotel.

When I finally got back to my room, I took a warm bath and tried to stretch.  My Achilles tendons were too tight.  They didn’t bother me during the race, but they both tightened up by the time I got back to the hotel.

Having had pastries and fruit after the race, I didn’t feel any need to eat lunch.  I relaxed at the hotel until it was time for dinner.  Then I went to one of the restaurants behind the hotel, next to the Riverwalk.

I didn’t fly home until Monday afternoon, which gave me the whole morning to explore more of the San Antonio Riverwalk.

Race statistics:

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  4:16:11

Average Pace:  9:46 per mile

First Half:  2:00:18

Second Half:  2:15:53

Marathons/Ultras in 2026:  6

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  578