the race: rock on! (san antonio rock n’ roll marathon)

Giants behind me, giants ahead me… I find myself right in the middle of the pack, weaving through rows and rows of giants. I look down at the ground and the trail is strewn with clothing. You see them everywhere; In the middle of the road, on the sides, t-shirts, sweatshirts, gloves, beanies. Discarded layers of running gear were lining the streets. I see no dismembered body parts though. This is, after all, not a distorted version of a familiar fairy tale. This is not even a nightmare I’m having. I’m wide awake and running the route of the San Antonio Rock and Roll marathon.

“By the way, everyone, temperatures will be around 35 degrees on Sunday. You should seriously consider layering.” Our guide announces this inside the bus as she is giving us a tour of the route for the marathon.

I still haven’t quite mastered converting Fahrenheit to Celsius in my head but I do know that 35 degrees is close enough to 32 degrees. And I remember that 32 degrees is freezing point.

Vicky, who is sitting on the seat in front of me, turns and says,”That’s too cold, isn’t it?”

I nod. We are going to need more layers. We panic shop and find ourselves extra gear at the expo.

On the morning of the half-marathon, I am wearing three layers of clothing. A sleeveless Nike top, an apple green Brooks long sleeved top layer (my little piece of Brian Sell!), a black Nike windbreaker with hood, a buff headgear covering my head and ears and a full Sugoi compression tights. Vicky is wearing four layers on top, two below. I look at her and tell her, “There could be two people in there running a half marathon!” She grins and replies, “I’m still cold!”  So am I. But I can’t put on more layers. I already feel and look like a sausage.

When I left Manila temperatures were also in the 30s. But we are talking Celsius here. Temperatures were in the hot and humid 30s not the freezing 30s. As if I needed more reminding that I was on the other side of the world!

By the time we start running, temperatures had thankfully risen closer to the 40s. The sun is up but I was still having difficult time breathing. The air is too dry. Someone seriously needs to warm this dry air up before they start assaulting my nostrils! My face was also starting to sting. I had forgotten to put sun block on. It was cold but the sun was just as a merciless on the skin.

The rock n’ roll marathon in San Antonio goes through serpentine thoroughfares that weave in and around downtown. It is one of the most scenic of races I’ve ever run in. You find yourself in a mix of rural and urban surroundings.  In the historic district you go right past the Alamo and the charming riverwalk section of the city. A few miles down and you find yourself in the King William residential neighborhood with its elegant rows of Victorian houses.  The second oldest park in the nation is also part of the route and on the full marathon course you’ll also go past handsome historic mission churches.

The energy of the crowd is simply contagious. I’m not even a kilometer out and already there are cheerers shouting out words of encouragement by the side of the road. Groups of well wishers are waving placards and handmade posters. “Go runners, go!” says one. Another one, held by a man with a mask on cheekily says, “Run for your life!” As we go under a bridge, a man in a bicycle with a music player attached to his bike rides past us. He is playing loud rock music and ringing the bells of his bike. “Rock on! Go, go, go!” He shouts out encouragingly. I oblige and try to go faster. I am weaving through huge block of runners. I know it is not the most efficient way to run a half marathon. But I need to go a little faster to warm myself up a bit more.

The wave Vicky and I are in is made up of a mix of half and full marathon runners. Some runners had their paces attached to their backs. I realized that I am in the middle of the 2:45 to 3:00 hour pack. I wanted to run the half in at least 2 hours. So I needed to speed up a bit. I had no choice but simply to weave through the pack. My only problem was, a number of these guys were, at least, half a head taller than I was! I couldn’t really see much ahead of me except a wall of backs and shoulders. I tried running on the side but the road was sloping downwards towards the gutter. I switched to the middle of the road but then there were groups in costumes running all in one row. A father and daughter tandem had special shirts on. One said, like father, like daughter! The other said, like daughter, like father! There was no way I was going to go in-between them! It makes me think about my father who had just celebrated his 60th birthday a few weeks earlier. And I find myself wondering if I will ever get him to run with me. Not likely. But the great thing about having great days like this is that it makes you believe some miracles are actually possible. I bid the tandem goodbye and I continue to weave, weave, weave through the crowd and do the best I can.

I continue to run like the crazy, giddy, happy woman that I feel like inside of me. I hear rock music and see people singing on the stage. I pump my fist up in the air and join the runners as they hoot and holler and cheer and sing out loud. I don’t know anybody in the crowd and I’m not expecting to see a familiar face but I scan the faces of the crowd anyway. They all seem friendly and in good cheer. So I decide to start waving back at them and pretend they are cheering for me. I liked being Mike and Sarah and JD. I even agreed to be Aunt Suz! Thanks guys!

It was not only rock bands playing on elevated stages out in the streets. There was also a mix of school bands and cheerleaders on the route. All in all, it kept the race route loud, and festive and crazy entertaining fun!

Hello, I’ve waited here for you, EVERLONG…

The night before the half-marathon, Vicky and I had driven down to the riverwalk for dinner. We wanted pasta for dinner so we were set on dining ITALIAN and finding a restaurant with seating inside where it would be warm enough for our south-east asian bones. I actually wanted some burritos and Mexican fare but because we were running the next day and I wasn’t sure how Mexican food would agree with my tummy I decided to play it safe. That night, Vicky and I were also playing this little game. She’d hear some loud music coming out of bars and pubs and she’d ask if that sounded like THE CULT. The Cult would be the band playing at the headliner concert on the evening after the marathon. Vicky had never heard of them. She liked music but wasn’t really into heavy metal rock. “Is that it,” she’d ask whenever we would hear something particularly loud and with a heavy metal feel. After a couple of tries she just started asking whenever we would hear anything. It was getting late in the evening and the music was getting louder.

“How about that?” she asks as we pass by an open store front on our way back to the car.

“Nope, that’s just Coldplay!” I tell her. “Definitely not The Cult. Think a bit more post-punk, psychedelic, acid rock…. Led Zeppelin? AC/DC? ”  ”

“Uh-huh!” Vicky says but she is shaking her head.

“Oh well,” I tell her. “You’ll find out tomorrow night. If it gets too loud, we can always just get more popcorn and beer.”

I’ve always loved music. I grew up in a house filled with music day in and day out. For me music and running simply went together. That’s why running in a rock n’ roll marathon was tops in my list of marathons I would want to take part in in this lifetime.

When I heard the Foo Fighters song EVERLONG playing I started singing along with the band. I actually slowed down and started clapping and hooting for them. And I thought of Vicky too. “Not this one, either!” I tell her in my head. Just then my Garmin beeps. I’ve set it to automatically record my paces per lap and to beep every kilometer. I look at it and I’m surprised when I see the total distance I’ve covered. It didn’t really feel like I’ve been running that fast and that long but at the 10KM mark, my time was at 56:53. The last time I ran a half, I did it in 2:04:00. For this half, I was targeting that same pace. I wasn’t set on a PR. I really wanted to enjoy the route and take part in the entertainment. But 56:43? Maybe, just maybe I could actually run this race a bit faster…

So I bid the band adieu and started speeding up a bit. I hit 15KM at 1:25, 16KMs at 1:30. All this time I’d still be singing out loud whenever we went past a band playing. There was one every mile of the stretch. I thought that was simply awesome.

For most of the 21KM route you had the whole road for running. But there were some parts where the opposing lanes were reserved for the marathon runners who were already on their way back! By the time Vicky and I left the start line, the marathon had been going on for an hour. Thus, when I got to that point where the marathon and half marathon pack were once again converging, I found myself running side by side with some of the elite runners. Side by side for a split second, I mean. Those guys did not seem to be running. They were flying. And they were doing it so quietly! I didn’t even hear the girl’s footfalls when she went past me. I believe she was the 5^th placed runner for women. Maybe 4^th. I just felt a sort of shhhhwing…and a slight breeze on my right side. And then she was gone. Even before I could shout out Wow!

The guys beside me are now cheering. Soon enough the half marathoner’s lane up ahead also started erupting with cheers and claps for the elite marathon runners passing by us, floating by us, flying by us. They were inspiring to watch.

On the website, they promised a flat route. They didn’t lie but it depends on your definition of flat. There were some rises and inclines. I knew this because we had taken the tour the day before. I was prepared for the first incline. I forgot about the one just before the finish line. Normally when I am running, I avoid looking at my Garmin. I simply give every run my best effort and I avoid looking at my watch because I don’t want the extra pressure of running after time. Yes, I wanted to run it in 2 hours but there ended my ambition. Until I hit the 12 mile marker, that is.…

“Just 1 more mile!” Shouts the cheerers and the volunteers.

I looked at my watch then and that’s when I realized that I could quite possibly even go below my 2:00 hour half marathon target. So I decide then and there to push harder. Forget about the tiring legs and dry throat! I’d been singing out loud too much! I pass on the last water station. I didn’t have time to waste. I take one deep, cold breath and start running as fast as I can. And just as soon as I commit to that goal I hit the descent and the steep ascent! By this time the half marathon lane was already filling up again. If I wanted that sub 2 hour PR I knew I needed to start weaving again. I also needed to go up the incline fast!

“Time to haul ass!” the man beside me announces with a grin. I nod and am about to reply when the lady behind him says, “You guys haul ass, mine’s too damn heavy to haul up this incline! Who the hell said this was flat???” We all laugh out loud and then we go…

I go as fast as I can up the incline. I am terrified of falling or worst tripping other runners up. Finally the man and I reach the top. He slows down, I speed up some more and make that last right turn towards the finish line. I hear loud cheers all around. A loudspeaker is blaring. And then I hear nothing. Nothing. Everything around me is silent. In fact, I see nothing. I see no other runner in front of me, no timing strips, not even stars even though my breathing has become a bit labored. I simply push and sprint and will my legs to go faster. Which explains why my finish line picture shows me ducking under the arms of another lady who has her hands stretched out in triumph. I didn’t realize I had reached the finish line! I really thought I was paying attention. I thought I could see everything, hear everything, sense everything. I was simply in another place altogether. I was giving that last 200 meters my best shot. I was not about to wuzz out at the final stretch.

Set your PR, girl. Give yourself something to remember.

So I did. And when I reached the finish line, I thought I could go for another 21 KM more. That’s why I almost ran into that girl at the finish line. I simply didn’t see her. Sorry, girl! While your hands were stretched out in triumph, my head was already soaring somewhere in PR heaven. That’s why I had kept on running when everyone around me had started to slow down. At that point, all I wanted to do was to keep on running.

in the beginning… (rock n’ roll san antonio)

“You’re not going to make it!” The man points this out to me as the door to his bus slides oh-so-slowly-open.

“Just get us to the starting line please.”

40 minutes after the San Antonio rock n’ roll marathon had started, I was at the finish line begging the shuttle driver to drive us back to the start line of the race.

Everything that could have possibly gone wrong had happened in the one and a half hours it took us to get to the limited parking spot at the Alamodome in San Antonio. We had left our hotel a little after 5:30 in the morning. We had allowed ourselves more than an hour’s allowance before the official start of the race. We were headed towards the Alamodome (8 minutes away according to my GPS and the finish point of the race). The plan was to drop the car off and then take the shuttle back to the start line. GPS in hand, Vicky and I got into our rented car. We were freezing but in high spirits. The temperature had dipped into the low 30s from 60’s high the day before.

As soon as we made the turn to leave our hotel, we encountered the first ominous sign…a ROAD BARRIER with flashing lights! The roads downtown were already closed! No problem! Just let the GPS recalculate another route. Two minutes after this, we found ourselves caught in the middle of a traffic jam. All hell broke loose from there. We couldn’t turn back into our hotel anymore. Soon enough we found ourselves in a highway heading out to Sneaky knows where… north, south, wherever! We were hopelessly lost and at the mercy of road signs that didn’t really make any sense in our heads.

Vicky sighs… “So near…yet soooo far!”

I had signed up for the San Antonio rock n’ roll marathon without any real plan in mind. I didn’t know anybody there. I had no friends or family in the area. Vicky ended up there because her cousin was getting married. Serendipity! We decided to meet up. But she was also a visitor. All we wanted to do was run. We didn’t realize that we were going to get a whole lot more of running than we bargained for.

It was impossible to get downtown. The traffic jam on the highway just to get to the exit was more than a mile long.  The smart thing to do would have been to find a parking spot somewhere, anywhere and just walk to the start line. But then again, not knowing anything about the area, Vicky and I were not certain we would find our way back there after the race. I could handle getting lost. Eventually I’m sure Vicky and I would have found our way back to the hotel. But I couldn’t lose a car. Especially one that wasn’t even mine to lose in the first place!

10 million moving violations and a whole lot of desperate pleas for direction and a number of wild U-turns later we finally make it to the  Alamodome parking lot. I looked at my watch and it said 8:19am. There were 8 buses parked on the leftmost side of the lot. The last bus in the queue was about 100 meters away. We weren’t even out of the car yet when I noticed that the first bus had started to move out. I jumped out of the car and just kept running after the buses. I caught the last bus just as it was about to slip out of its slot. I rapped on its door like a madwoman. From the corner of my eye I could see Vicky sprinting right behind me. The startled driver gave me the look! I lifted my hands up at a loss for words. I was out of breath and couldn’t even form a single word in English or in any other language in my head. He beckoned me in with his hand. Vicky was huffing and puffing right behind me. We both crashed into the front row seat. We were the only ones inside the bus! The driver then turned to tell us quite sternly that we were very late. I could only nod in agreement but I was grinning from ear to ear… ROCK N’ ROLL MARATHON, here we come!!!

I tell the driver we are from Manila. And yes we are late but we have no plans of missing this run. So please, just get us to the start line and we will run even if we are the only two runners left on the road.

“All that way?” He asks in a very surprised tone. Then he switches his hazards on. And then he tells us; “I’ll do my best to get you there as fast as I can!”  And just like that, we are on our way to the start line.

As we were cruising down the highway Vicky and I spied the early wave of runners running right below us. “Vicky, look!” I shouted out excitedly. Then I fumbled for my belt in search of my camera. I had no camera! I had no fuel belt! This meant that I also had no money, no means of identification, no nothing. But I did have my car keys clutched very tightly in my hand. I uttered a silent prayer asking my overworked angel to please, at least, make sure that the door to the car had banged shut! Forget about locking it. I was dead sure I hadn’t done that.   In my panic I had left everything behind in the car. Even my breakfast…

The driver dropped us off about half a mile from the start line. When we got there we realized it wasn’t as as bad as we had thought. Vicky and I were ready to run that route no matter what. We were ecstatic to know that we weren’t going to run it alone. There were still thousands on the road who were just making their way to it. The start had been delayed by about 10 minutes. The organizers had planned to get everyone off the start line 45 minutes after the first wave. It had taken far longer than that. The queue to the start line was half a mile long.

As soon as Vicky and I got off the bus, we had a laughing fit. We were nervous, we were excited and quite suddenly I also realized that I was very hungry.

We make a quick stop at one of the hundreds of portalets lining the park. Then I go run and grab a banana from the organizer’s stand. Vicky gives me some water from her fuel belt and one of the pair of gloves she was using. My hands were so cold it was refusing to peel the banana properly! I warm it up a bit as we proceeded with our trek to the start line. And for the rest of the race I am holding on to this glove like a security blanket of sorts. At this point they were already calling out wave #18, which was Vicky’s original corral. There were more than 30 in all.  I was supposed to be in corral 13 but that had left even before we had made it to the starting area. We finally ended up joining wave #21 or #22. I give Vicky a quick hug and a thumbs up sign then I remind her that we are meeting up under the letter M in the family reunion area.  And then we hear the signal and finally, finally we are off and running back to the finish line!

Rock and roll!!!

THE RACE..THE BANDS… THE CHEERERS…

THE EXPO…

THE COURSE TOUR…

As usual, I’m going backwards to move the story forward…

to be continued… .

san antonio rock n’ roll marathon

First some pictures…Then some numbers as reported by San Antonio News…

30,000 people registered
24,806 people started
24,559 people finished

Marathon
7,526 finishers
4,025 men
3,511 women

Half-Marathon
17,033 finishers
5,644 men
11,389 women

The winners for the half marathon:

Temp: 35 degrees F. I was freezing!

Layers of clothing: 3 by the time I crossed the finished line.

My official race time 1:57:43, number 941 among the women.  According to my Garmin it was 1:57:02.  But with a race this good, this fun, this scenic…I’m not gonna quibble over a few seconds. In fact, I’d run the whole course again in a heartbeat…

The story/ expo report/race report/encounter with bart yasso/ stalking of brian sell etc will all have to come later… when my brain has finally caught up with me. Right now it’s still flying somewhere over the pacific ocean.

It’s great to be home. Time to change these flying/travel shoes back to my iron running shoes.

home for the (mean) goodtime

Swirling hues of orange and reds and pinks are reflected on a bluish sea. The waves roar into a mocha colored beach that stretches for miles in both direction.  It is a mix of coquina shells and sand which gives it a very loose texture. I’ve walked up and down this beach every morning this past 10 days. And while I keep wishing I could, I do not dare run in it. The shifting sand in this dune lined beach will be merciless to the knees of those who do not heed its invitation to slow down.

This has been home for the past week. At dawn the sun peeks over the atlantic ocean’s horizon. And then it slowly makes its way across the sky leaving behind a subtle purple-pink hue to signal the day’s end.

It is a quiet beach during the week. You could walk for miles with only the birds for company and the sight of the occasional lone fisherman scanning the horizon as he holds on to his fishing rod.

“Oh look! The birds are having a convention!”

“Birds flock, owls convene!” My sister is quick to reply.

“Well, what do you call that then?” I say as I point to a group of birds standing by the shore facing the Atlantic Ocean. “They are definitely having a meeting!”

Running is best done on the two lane intercoastal highway that stretches beside it. It has a  bike lane which I use during my early morning runs. Most cyclists and other runners wait for the sun to come out. I like running at the break of dawn, when it is a little cooler and the road is not as busy.

There is a lot of greens but very little shade in this highway. Twice I’ve come across a dead racoon sporting tire tread marks on it fur. No alligators or any other reptile sightings yet…

From the house, one side leads to St. Augustine’s. It is America’s oldest city and one bursting with history and charm. It’s got coquina archways and brick lined roads and a view of the bay from it’s gates. There’s a fort and even a lighthouse that I am wanting to explore. Somewhere along this route Ponce De Leon went in search for the fountain of youth. I can understand why he would think it would be in this place. Time does seem to slow dow in in this part of the world. I haven’t come across that yet in my runs. Perhaps tomorrow…For now, it’s time to put my feet up and enjoy the sound of the roaring waves as it echoes through the house.

flying to run