Rodeo Run 10K

We got there super early, at C’s insistence, and ended up standing in the 20-30 MPH winds for about two hours. The day before, Friday, it had been 80 degrees outside. On the morning of the race the temperature was in the 30s.

The first hour I was okay — adrenaline was keeping me warm. But the Rodeo Run is a late race. By 9:30 we had stripped ourselves of and dropped off our warm-ups and were trying to figure out where to get in line, since C runs a good two minutes per mile faster than me.

At 9:40 a.m. the starting horn sounded, everyone let up a great cheer, and then? Nothing. We had to stand around for another five minutes, slowly shuffling forward with 10,000 other eager runners, until we got to the starting line. I knew this would happen, I just didn’t realize it really would take that long. The minute I lifted my foot over that starting line I clicked on my Forerunner and was on my way.

God love the Forerunner. I checked it frequently throughout the run, probably too much, but it helped me a lot not to overdo the first 5k. I knew I had been running about a 10:45 mile the previous month, so I tried to make sure I stayed in that range. And despite the cold, I felt great. I planned to do my normal run-walk intervals, but when the first walking interval came up I felt a little lazy slowing down so early early in the race, so I just ran through it.

I was feeling good as we wound through downtown, and then we started the long straight-away up the Elysian Viaduct. People were struggling on the overpass, but thanks to Korea (and the fact that I like to run the Ho Chi Min bikes trails and along Allen Parkway) hills don’t bother me. At the top of the viaduct, however, I looked ahead to see the first 5,000 runners, stretching into the distance. It was unnerving to see just how far I still had to go. Around the same time, the first hardcore runners were making their way back south down the viaduct, and I yelled encouragements to the first woman as well as an acquaintance from my running club who ended up coming in 10th overall, at ~38 minutes (!).

Running along the north end of the viaduct, about four miles in, and passing the turn-around point in the barrio was my favorite moment of the run. People were sitting on their front porches wrapped in blackets, whistling encouragements as the runners passed. One spry old women was hopping from one foot to the other yelling “Si, usted puede!”

I looked to my left and saw a guy walking a blue dog on a leash. Really blue, like the color of the Weezer album. But as I got closer I realized it wasn’t a blue dog at all. It was a blue goat! That was the only moment during the run where I wished I’d brought my camera.

As I reached the middle of the viaduct heading southbound (my second time crossing it), I knew it was all downhill from there. Literally. I could see Minute Maid Park, the end of the run, looming over downtown in the distance, and I promised myself that as soon as I got off the viaduct I would run balls out, the last mile point 2, until I got to the finish line.

The finish line. Oh the finish line. When I rounded the corner and finally saw it ahead of me I had to look down at my feet. Upon the completion of any kind of physical event, no matter how challenging, I find myself getting emotional, and I could not look at the f-word above without feeling a sting in my eyes. For this reason alone, I’m sure, it felt like it took me forever to finish the last quarter mile.

My final time? 1:06:57. I initially wanted to get in under an hour but I got lazy in the last weeks of training. Still way better than my expectations, and my best mile average yet. I have the bug now. This Saturday I’m running the Bayou City Classic 10K.