It was a blast.
On a sad note, the Friday before the race, I learned my grandmother had passed away. The visitation was the evening of the race, in New Braunfels. That gave me plenty of time to run the race, then make the drive from Houston. Knowing it would be cathartic, I decided to take it easy, but to go ahead and run.
The course was an out and back, taking you about 7.5 miles one way with the other 5.5 miles on the way back. The weather was awful. 65-70F and raining the entire time. There was the Fred Hartman bridge in the middle. Going both ways. There was wind, spray from the traffic on the bridge, runners with no sense of ettiquette, and the entire course smelled like Deep Woods Off.
Did I mention it was a blast?
We started right on Galveston Bay in Sylvan Park and ran through some of La Porte's neighborhoods before turning out into the Houston Ship Channel's industrial area. It was around mile 2.5 that I got my first laugh. The race turned onto Barbours Cut, which is a major trucking route for the ship channel. If you ever wondered how powerful running can be, try disrupting shipping traffic in one of the busiest ports in the world. A very cool experience!
Just past the 3 mile marker, a man pushing a baby stroller passed me. I know I'm slow, but that made me feel a little sick inside. Then we turned the corner and I could see the bridge. Whoa! Go on, baby stroller man, I'm saving some energy.
A bit past mile 4, we had one last water station before entering the bridge. We had the shoulder and one lane blocked off for the race. The rain was coming down pretty hard at this point, but I was pleased to find this part of the bridge was a very gentle grade. The tough part of the bridge was just after the 5 mile marker, and it was about a quarter of a mile up to the top. This was the last time until the final half mile that anyone passed me. This was also where the we started seeing the leaders coming back at about 5.5 miles. My goal was to make it to 6 miles before seeing them, so that was pretty close.
It was nice to get to the top of the bridge, where the La Porte PD had stationed some eye candy for the ladies. He cheered us on as we crossed the top and started the descent. On the downhill side, I passed a volunteer who had a cow bell and shouted, "We need more cowbell!" He laughed and chased me part way down, clanging it as hard as he could. We passed mile 6 on the way down and exited the bridge around mile 7.
The rain had let up by now, and the temperature was dropping. We ran down to a boat ramp where someone was playing "Twist and Shout" in an endless loop from a loudspeaker. That was about the extent of the course entertainment, which was fine with me. I was high fiving the volunteers as we exited the boat ramp area at mile 8 and headed back for The Bridge. Knowing what to expect this time, I picked it up on the gentle part of the grade and distracted myself watching pelicans flying under the bridge during the hardest part. Back past the eye candy and down the other side, I decided to start picking people off. The first 5 fell with no trouble, but there was one woman in a red shirt who was determined to stay ahead of me. The afterburners came on as we approached the ramp off the bridge and I never saw her again.
I grabbed a cup of water just before the 11 mile marker and checked my Garmin. Looking at my elapsed time, I realized I would have a PR unless I walked the rest of the race. Whoop! Halfway to mile 12 there was an underpass we had to go through and I looked up ahead to see if I could see the mile marker before starting the descent. I did not see the mile marker but I spied...... baby stroller man!!! Finally, a chance to vindicate my New York Marathoning self! I passed him close to the top and kept right on going. A pair of Gallowalking ladies toyed with me until the water station at the 12 mile marker, but I surprised them by not stopping to drink and left them in my wake. With one mile to go, I started a gentle pick up, laughing again at those poor, confused truckers on Barbours Cut.
The last turn of the race came and I could see the finish line just over a half mile ahead. It was here that a man wearing those hideous minimalist toe shoes passed me. Humbled, I picked it up even harder. A woman in a local running club t-shirt passed me. Baffled by the thought of being passed by someone wearing cotton (cotton!!!) in a race, I pushed harder yet again. I was passing people right and left, finally catching the guy who'd told me that "slower runners keep right" just after the start of the race. (You couldn't get any further right without running in the dirt.) I didn't think he'd remember me, after over 2 hours of running, but heard a surprised "Hey!" from behind.
I crossed the finish line at 2 hours and 16 minutes, as the announcer called my name. Smaller races allow for name recognition, which is a really nice perk after running 13.1 miles. I got a super cool medal and the satisfaction of knowing I managed a 5 minute PR for the half marathon distance just 4 weeks after a major marathon, even with having to cross that bridge twice. The post race festivities included pizza, sausage on a stick, live music and beer. In short, if you ever get the chance to run the La Porte By the Bay Half Marathon, do it!
Unfortunately, I had to beat it back to the car, drive home and pack up for the 3 hour drive to New Braunfels. Please take my advice: Do not attempt 3 hours of highway driving in heavy rain immediately after a PR half marathon. I wonder when my back will ever stop aching.
