My alarm went off at 6am, and after meeting up with Stephanie and Florencia at 630, we set off to find Sandy and Tim before the start. Sandy and I had agreed at lunch on Saturday to meet at one of the east corners of 15th street at 645. Unfortunately, I got there a few minutes late and couldn't find them anywhere. Rather than walk back from where we had come to get in line with the 4:30 pace group, we just hung out on the corner knowing the race would come to us and we could jump in at the right time. After some short remarks by Lance Armstrong and Joan Benoit Samuelson (from my hometown of Cape Elizabeth, ME!), the fireworks went off and the race was underway. Stephanie and I waited about 10 more minutes trying to see if we could find Sandy, and when we didn't, we walked towards the starting line just in front of the 4:15 pace group. Not the group I wanted to be with, but we were both getting anxious and tired of standing around.
The course starts out heading north away from downtown, and after a quick series of right turns, we found ourselves going south on San Jacinto heading up our first real hill of the day. It's a pretty short and steep hill, and the "800 meters to go" sign was a reminder that we'd see it again just before the finish. As we descended the other side of the hill and ran past the capitol building, we passed the finish line just a block to our left, so close and yet so far. After that, we wound our way through downtown before ending up on South Congress going south over the lake.
This next part of the course was fairly steadily uphill for three miles or so. While it's not a very scenic part of the city, there was still plenty to look at. The funky Bohemian clothing stores, multiple yoga studios, and off-beat record stores reminded me of Ann Arbor, and I enjoyed checking them out as I ran by. One thing that really caught my eye was the collection of food trucks offering everything from cupcakes to Pad Thai. I violated the long-standing rule of my In Flight training group - no talking about breakfast until we're back to the park during our early morning long runs - and started daydreaming over what I was going to have for dinner, never mind the fact that I'm not usually very hungry after a marathon. Somewhere along this stretch is where I first noticed problems with the aid stations being unprepared for the number of runners, the warm temperatures, or both. There were no stacks of pre-poured cups waiting to be handed out. Instead, much like at Houston a few weeks ago, the volunteers were trying to fill cups on the fly by pouring from pitchers or scooping out of large jugs as dozens of thirsty runners jostled each other trying to grab one. Having the tables set back from the street didn't help much either because it forced everyone into a small area instead of spreading them out along the course. It was quite chaotic and not what you'd expect from a big marathon with a title sponsor like Livestrong. The Livestrong aid station several miles later was very well run, as you'd expect. Maybe next year they can share some of their organizational skills with the other ones.
Shortly after mile five, we made two right turns and began our long descent back towards downtown. I liked this part of the course because it was in a residential area and there were a lot of people out cheering us on. Not huge crowds, but almost every house had a group in the front yard clapping, offering orange slices, or even a cold beer. We had this kind of support throughout most of the rest of the race, which I found to be a nice change from most races where there are pockets of large numbers of people and stretches between them without anyone at all. Along this section was also where I noticed how dog-crazy Austin is. It seemed like nearly everyone who was out watching the race had a dog or two with them. Eventually, it started to seem strange when you saw people in front of a house without a dog.
A few miles later, we crossed back over the lake and started out trip to the west of downtown. While there was a park area to our left that was pretty to look at, the other side of this road seemed to be pretty dull and industrial. Livestrong had claimed mile nine as their section of the course, so in addition to the very well run aid station mentioned earlier, there were hundreds of messages to and from cancer patients chalked on the street. About this time is when the sun started to really break through the clouds, so reading the messages was a good excuse to keep my head down. This was also the last flat road we'd run on for the next ten miles or so. As much as I wanted to stretch my legs out and go, I knew the big hills were still in front of me.
Right before mile eleven, the half marathoners turned right to head back towards the finish and the course got really quiet. Not that people weren't still chatting around me (I did get to meet Meredith, running the marathon on her 30th birthday) but when you take that many people off the course, the background noise noticeably decreases. Still, there was plenty happening to keep me entertained. One of my favorites was watching a guy named Jake approach his cheering fans. From the looks of it, they are all students and fraternity brothers at UT. They would pop up on the side of the road every 2-3 miles, let out a huge roar for Jake, and then jump in and run with him for a few minutes. Watching guys in boat shoes run up hills faster than I, and Jake, were running was annoying; watching them pull up heaving and out of breath very shortly thereafter made up for it.
Sandy blew past me between mile 13 and 14. She was having a great race, looked really strong, and kept on charging after we chatted for a few minutes. Other than that, not much of interest happened until I saw Tim at mile 19. The course was much prettier than it had been earlier, Meredith and her friend kept yo-yoing around me before and after aid stations, and two guys complained they were getting dizzy staring at my shirt for miles on end. That about sums up those five miles. Seeing Tim was a huge boost for me. I hadn't hit the wall, but my legs were dead from 10 miles of climbing hills and my brain was fried from trying to keep myself entertained. Tim told me Sandy was doing well about five minutes in front of me, snapped my picture, and sent me on my way. Sufficiently distracted, I got back into my groove and kept on chugging. I was expecting some sort of nice view of the city since this was supposed to be the highest portion of the course, but none appeared. I think I misread the course description one of Austin's papers posted on their web site. Bummer.
Just before mile 20, we finally made the right-hand turn back towards downtown. There were still six miles to go, but I got a nice mental boost from knowing that I was on my way back. Unfortunately, the wind was now right in our faces and was more of a "tough to run against" wind than a "cool you off" breeze. I mention this because it explains why I picked up a shadow that stuck with me all the way to the finish. I heard someone mention something about following the guy with the tie-dye shirt and turned around to see this woman tucked in behind me. By tucked in, I mean she was no more than a foot directly behind me. I smiled and asked her if she was drafting, and she said "As a matter of fact I am and I'm not going to try to deny it." Some runners might have been annoyed or upset by this and sped up to get away from her, but I actually liked it. Knowing that I was pulling her along gave me something to focus on for the last part of the race other than myself. There's no way I was stopping to walk or relax any when I had a runner depending on me to get them to the finish line. Having her there really helped me get through what I thought was the worst part of the race - the hill at mile 23. You make a turn at 22.5 to run parallel to the soccer fields, and after you check them out, you look ahead and see a water stop with a steep hill beginning just a few hundred feet further along. It's a pretty brutal stretch of roadway coming this late in the race and one I was definitely not expecting. Even with my draftee, I wasn't really feeling like tackling the hill with gusto until who should appear but Tim! He was pretty close to the top, so posing for pictures and talking while he ran with me was all I needed to get distracted enough to get through it.
After that, it was pretty much downhill for three miles all the way to the finish. I put my game face on, as they say, and started trucking. It was time to stop holding back, start running strong, and pass as many people as I could. As we got closer to the UT campus, I saw a familiar pair of green shorts up ahead of me. I'm not sure how it happened, but now I had Sandy to chase down. I caught up to her a mile or so from the finish and we ran the rest of the way together. Tim popped up at the hill on San Jacinto to offer up his best version of a drill sergeant to get us up the hill and down to the finish. Having a hill after mile 26 is certainly not fun, but unlike San Antonio, at least you've known since the first mile that it's coming. Tim peeled off as Sandy and I turned towards the finish line, and after a fast sprint down the hill for a block, the race was over. Several of our In Flight friends were standing on the finishing stretch cheering for us, but I didn't see or hear them. Florencia got a really good picture of me though. Apparently, I had a problem all day long with not hearing my friends along the course. Jenny was at the race cheering on a friend of hers from law school running her first marathon, and when I finally heard her scream "John Senger!" some time after mile 20, she told me she'd been yelling at me all day. Oops. I did see Shelley, though. She spotted my shirt and ran with me for a few blocks near mile 24.
Before I left the finish area, I made sure to wait and find my draftee. All my hard work paid off as she ran a new PR by over two minutes. That's pretty impressive on a tough, hilly course like this one. She was quite thankful and appreciative, but not so much so that she'd buy me a beer. Oh well, it's the satisfaction of a job well done that counts, right?
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