Heading into my 59th marathon and my first race in Texas, I had no idea what to expect. San Antonio greeted us with beautiful weather—no rain and temperatures in the 70s. The extended forecast warned of a high of 77 degrees on race day, and I was hoping we’d finish before the Texas sun baked us.

The Expo: A Mixed Bag
The marathon weekend started with the expo, which left me a bit underwhelmed. Having experienced the buzz of major expos like Boston and even smaller, well-organized ones, this one was hard to find and lacked excitement. There were no signs to guide us, so we ended up following other runners and hoping they knew where they were going.
My swollen travel-weary feet earned me a blister before I even started the race, but fate intervened when I spun a prize wheel and won a first aid kit. That kit saved me! The bright spot of the expo was seeing Meb Keflezighi and Desiree Linden speaking as we were leaving—a definite highlight.
Race Morning: Navigating the Unknown
The race app wasn’t exactly helpful when it came to logistics, especially for parking. Pre-purchased parking was sold out, and the app didn’t specify what to do next. With some guesswork, we arrived early enough to avoid issues, and from there, everything went smoothly. Large signs directed runners where to go, and gear check volunteers applauded every runner—a really nice touch.
We waited in our corral under the still-dark sky, admiring the famous River Walk lit up with Christmas lights wrapped around the sprawling trees. It was stunning, and I couldn’t wait to explore it after the race.
The Race: Highs, Lows, and Surprises
The race began with little fanfare—the “Star-Spangled Banner” started without announcement, and the horn soon followed. Kim and I found ourselves running with the 3:40 pacer, enjoying the comfortable pace. The course was alive with mariachi bands, one after another, making the early miles a joy.
The park section was breathtaking. Tree-lined paths reminded me of Central Park’s Mall, with vibrant orange leaves falling like a Connecticut autumn. We passed a Fallen Heroes memorial, lined with photos of soldiers who had sacrificed their lives. It was a deeply emotional moment, reinforced by cheering crowds holding American flags.
Things were going well until around mile 16 when the heat hit hard. Breathing became difficult, and I started experiencing sharp pains in my ribs and shoulders. Kim and I shifted into survival mode, alternating between running and walking. The long, sun-drenched concrete paths seemed endless, and I began to doubt if I could finish.
Kim’s optimism kept me moving. He reminded me, “We can walk from here and finish.” His encouragement, and the game of running from one light post to the next, helped us make slow but steady progress.
The Final Push
At mile 25, we entered a neighborhood where families cheered us on from their lawns. A runner from Mexico joined us briefly, sharing how tough the course was for him too. With one mile left, Kim asked, “Do you want to walk?” My answer: “No, let’s just get it done.”
When we spotted Uncle Charlie near the finish, his smile was the best thing I’d seen all day. Kim and I crossed the finish line hand-in-hand, overwhelmed with relief and pride.
Post-Race Reflection
At first, I swore I’d never run this race again. It was brutal, and I’d hated every moment of the last few miles. But after exploring the River Walk, taking a boat tour, and enjoying delicious Mexican food (complete with a beer and margarita), I found myself saying, “I can’t wait till next year!”
Back home, I checked the race results. Despite the struggle, I placed 3rd in my age group! That was the cherry on top of a grueling yet rewarding experience.
Next year, with better preparation and a new age division, I’m ready for redemption. Uncle Charlie, Bonnie, and Glen, get the room ready—we’re coming back to San Antonio!
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