State Number 14
– USA Fit Marathon, Sugar Land, TX
1 February 2015
I often hear that the Lone Star State is a whole other
country within the mainland U.S. Unquestionably, it is a state I can see as a place to retire. It’s a
conservative state and only one of a handful that respects the Second
Amendment.
Despite time spent at Dallas-Fort Worth and George
Bush Intercontinental Airports in previous years waiting for a connecting
flight to other destinations like Baltimore or Boston, Houston is my first official state visit.
A few weeks prior to marathon day, my wife and I were
offered the opportunity to be official pacers for this marathon. That meant we needed to book a flight to
Houston, rent a car and find a hotel on rather short notice.
Although the USA Fit Marathon was not my first marathon
choice for Texas, we cordially accepted the offer and prepared ourselves for a
weekend get-a-way in Sugar Land.
We left LAX early Saturday morning for a non-stop Southwest
Airlines flight to Houston’s George Bush Intercontinental Airport (IAH). We reserved a rental car from a cheapo
company located near the airport. When
we arrived at the counter, we were in for an unpleasant surprise – they had no
cars available! What was that
about? We reserved one so we should be
owed one.
Being rather ticked off and with an urgent need, we didn’t
have much of a choice but to spend more money for a vehicle at another company
without any time to researching the best value.
Sugar Land, situated in the Greater Houston area, lies
about 50 minutes southwest of IAH. Arriving
in time for the expo and packet pick-up was out of the question, however, we
notified the race director before we left home.
The director told us that our race jackets, bibs and other goodies would
delivered to our hotel, the Hilton Garden Inn – Sugar Land. I was a little skeptical, but soon after
checking in, the front desk clerk handed us our race packets. Gee, with that kind of service, I felt like a
VIP.
When I went to remove the attention-getting black wind
breaker jacket sporting the marathon logo blazoned on the back side from the
plastic wrapped enclosure, it looked big – very big. My heart sank.
I can’t wear this. The little tag
dangling from the zipper indicated it was a size 2XL, nearly double my normal
size. As I tried it on, it felt as if
two people could have fit in it. Swapping
the jacket for a suitable size was a top priority.
Dinner time was upon us and it was time for some
pizza. Across the street from our hotel
was the Bombay Pizza Company. The Food
Network featured this restaurant as one of the “best things I ever ate.” So, we had to find out for ourselves if this
was a valid statement.
The pizzeria serves Italian cuisine adorned with
Indian herbs and spices. As one walks
in, the colors from the sun like saffron and a roasted yellow present a
comfortable and homey atmosphere with walls decorated with murals of scenes of
Mumbai. Besides classic international
beers, assorted sodas imported from India are also available.
We stuck with the usual cheese pizza, but not from
being afraid of trying something new, but because we stick with what works prior
to a marathon event. Was it the best
thing I ever ate? I would have to say, “No”. It may have been true if I tried one of their
fancy creations with multiple toppings, spices and essences.
Across the street was a HEB Food and Drug store. We picked up some bananas, water and other
incidentals before heading back to the room to get some rest before our
marathon.
The sun hadn’t yet risen over the eastern horizon as I
gazed out the hotel window towards the starting/finish line venue at the University
of Houston – Sugar Land campus.
Streetlights were obscured by the thick fog blanketing Sugar Land
similar to the Tule fog common during the winter months where I live. However, this wasn’t due to an inversion
layer, but from the high humidity of the warm moist gulf air creating a high
dew point.
The university was just a short drive down University
Boulevard just south of I-69. The fog
was moderately thick making for severely reduced visibilities, so driving down
University Blvd was an adventure, especially being unfamiliar with the area.
I thought to myself I was going to have a good run day. As I stepped out of the car, it was still
dark and the weather was somewhat cool and the muggy air was laden with moisture
great for lubricating my lungs and alleviating the work required for heavy
breathing.
I was going into this marathon with my mind set on
pacing a 5:00 group and my wife leading a 4:30 pace group. However, when I met up with the individual
assigned to give out the pace signs, I was handed a 4:45. I questioned the time, but his list showed me
at 4:45. “What the heck?” I
thought. This would be a challenge, but
I accepted it anyway telling the assignor I would try but don’t expect
miracles. I will just have to take it up
with the pace organizer at a later time.
Once armed, fortified and equipped with my fashionable,
chic and stylish pacer sign, I was ready for the challenge. I had another job to do before start time –
find the race director to exchange my 2XL jacket with a much smaller, large
size jacket. I didn’t take long to find
her and she happily made the exchange.
It fit perfectly!
 |
| Race participants at start line (note the fog) |
The marathon’s 0430 start time designed for walkers
and those who anticipated finishing later than the cut-off time were already on
the course. For others, the race
officially started at 0630.
Approximately 900 – 1000 runners (both marathon and
half) toed the start line in the foggy and thick dark air. Sweat started beading on my head just
standing around and knew I had tough day ahead of me. If the sun didn’t shine, I may have a chance
to fulfill my pacing obligation.
The course is a “looped” course covering 13.1 miles
consisting of three turnaround points with full marathon runners completing the
course twice on concrete streets with a small portion consisting of an asphalt concrete
running path.
Enthusiastic runners lined up at the start. The horn sounded at 0630 and we were
off. Exiting the UH campus driveway,
runners continued onto Lexington Blvd to the first turnaround just after
Marathon Mile 1. From there, runners
continued back on University to the second turnaround located in a residential
neighborhood on the north side of I-69.
After three miles, I was in need of some water, but no
aid stations were to be seen. I noticed
some runners complaining of the same thing and were seen sipping water out of a
hose connected to a spigot in the street median. Wow! I thought. Are hoses a substitute for aid stations? Anyway, I took a large sip of the warm rubber-tasting
water, but I was so thirsty I didn’t pay much attention to the unpleasant taste. The water served its purpose for needed
hydration and I just hoped it wouldn’t upset my stomach.
The weather was still foggy, but the temperature was
rising as the sun rose. It was becoming
uncomfortable for me but I was still ahead of pace gradually banking some time
without becoming too obvious for my group, knowing that the hard part was still
ahead. I had mostly half marathon
runners with me and we were all making light about the aid station situation.
Passing back under the I-69 freeway near Marathon Mile
6, we were wondering when an aid station will become available. I was sweating profusely due to the high
humidity, as with the other cantankerous runners around me.
Not until after passing by the university driveway
from whence we began, an aid station suddenly appeared in the foggy air. I was delighted and I voiced my complaints to
those staffing the table about the absence of water for the last six
miles. I know they were volunteers, but
I hoped they would say something to race officials so water would be available
for the second loop.
Just after Marathon Mile 7, the skies began to
clear. Still, clouds mostly obscured the
sun, but the day was heating up and my greatest fear was about to unfold –
sunny skies with rising temperatures coupled with sultry air. In other words, oppressive stifling heat.
I was nearly a minute and a half ahead of pace as I
made my way to the fourth turnaround cone placed in the middle of the roadway
just past the 15 km point on University Blvd.
There were a few runners in my group (half marathon mostly) behind me maintaining
my pace. I overheard several say the
heat was beginning to take its toll and were unsure if they could maintain my 10:50
pace. I agreed with them on the heat and
I tried to uplift everyone’s spirits to keep going. Soon, I began to become a little uneasy about
the second half of the course, especially the six miles after the half-marathon
split.
At the half marathon point (and beginning of the
second half), my small group of half runners had finished and disappeared from
my radar (lucky them). I was nearly two
minutes ahead of schedule and suddenly I realized I was running alone. I began to wonder if race officials knew of
the absence of water for the next six miles.
What do you know? Marathon Miles
13 to 19 were identical to the first six – NO WATER! Apparently no one said anything or no one
cared. I had already stocked up with
several cups of water and some nutrition prior to the turnaround while embarking
on my second loop. My pace suddenly slackened
between Marathon Miles 15 and 16. The
heat from the sun coupled with the radiant heat from the concrete streets was
wearing down my ability to keep a consistent pace. I was done and the last ten miles would
mostly be a mind game. My banked time rapidly
dwindled and it would certainly not be enough to carry me through.
I was beginning to burn out near Marathon Mile 17 as I
saw two runners passed out on the side of the road with medics tending to their
calamitous needs. One was being loaded
into an ambulance for transport while the other was still on the ground being rehydrated
with a medical intravenous IV drip D5W TKO lactated Ringer’s.
Seeing the EMTs hard at work and the consequences of
overexertion was sort of a wakeup call for me not to push too hard and to listen
to my body while paying close attention to my limits. I was not going to hit my pace time, so I
continued to try to enjoy the marathon in the best way and to finish safely. That was more important than hitting any goal
pace I had committed to.
I approached the aid station at Marathon Mile 22 when a
volunteer suggested I drop my pace sign with her. She must have sensed I was struggling. Knowing that a turnaround point was nearly a mile
ahead, I placed it on a folding chair behind the water table and reclaimed the
coveted sign on my return. Why hold an
annoying stick I wasn’t using? I wish I
could have permanently ditched the sign since it served as a constant reminder
of something I wasn’t going to accomplish.
Not a sole asked if I was on pace.
I wonder if it was how pathetic I looked.
When I traversed a bridge spanning a flood control spillway
structure near an oxbow lake adjacent to the Brazos River, I could see the one
of the university’s buildings off in the distance. The finish was so close, yet sooo far
away. I couldn’t run anymore – even on
the downhill side of the bridge. I was
so hot and sunburnt and I wanted to be done so badly. I could only think of Marty Robbins crossing
the Brazos at [Sugar Land].
During the final two miles or so, I walked. It was painful just to walk in the blazing
sun. I was several minutes behind my
4:45 pace and if anyone would ask, I would respond with, “Sorry, I am out of
service.”
A spectator saw my declining state of vigor and kindly
handed me an ice-cold bottle of water. I
quickly drank half and poured the rest over my head. It was very refreshing, but not quite enough
to rev up my metabolism needed for an added boost of endorphins.
Marshaling up enough energy to run the “eternal” mile,
was difficult to do in the heat. I
managed to gather my last bit of oomph to fuel my final 100 meters to the
finish line in a time of 5:16:19 for a 12:04 pace.
Age
graded score: 43.92%
Age
graded time: 4:48:48
I was grateful I was done. Even if I had led my original 5:00 pace
group, I don’t believe I would have conquered my goal time. The weather was just too hot for my body to
handle. I later found out that I wasn’t
the only pacer to miss the mark.
I proudly received my Texas-style finisher’s medal, picked
up my finisher shirt and grabbed some grub, what was left over, and some cold
drinks. Of course, there was no shade to
sit under, so I toughed out the heat at a stand-up table.
My wife, pacing 4:30, met her goal time by a couple of
seconds. I guess the heat just doesn’t
bother some as it does me.
The marathon consisted of 220 runners finishing with
an average time of 5:22:46 and a standard deviation of 1:18:26. I looked on the bright side, I was above
average! I could rationally argue that the
heat and humidity affected practically all of the runners.
I was more than ready to get into the car and head
back to the hotel to clean up and have something to eat.
After some careful deliberation on a dining
establishment, we decided on Escalante’s Tex-Mex & Tequila restaurant
located in the Sugar Land Town Center.
The fashionable center near the downtown area had many dining
opportunities, but a south of the border meal was very appealing. After expending over 3500 kilocalories,
pretty much anything would have satisfied my appetite.
I got the impression that Escalante’s is for those habituated
with upscale social scenes and used to dining with swank décor. The service was great, but a little overpriced,
however, I must say that my burrito smothered in green sauce was pretty
delicious. The chips and salsa were a
little lack luster, but okay. I avoided
the “hand-crafted” margarita with its twelve dollar price tag. Yikes!
It was better to hydrate with ice water than with tequila.
 |
| Hermann Park attractions |
Our late Monday afternoon flight back to LAX gave us
the opportunity to see some of the sights in and around Houston and to partake
in a Texas BBQ lunch.
Being in a big city such as Houston, finding
activities to consume time can be a difficult undertaking. This was definitely the case as Monday
dawned.
I was eager to take a fifty-mile side trip to Galveston
to see the sea waves crashing or sitting on the beach dreaming of the cannons
flashing symbolic of the Spanish-American War.
Remember Glen Campbell?
We sacrificed the trip to Galveston and chose to visit
Hermann Park, which turned out to be a pleasant substitute.
Hermann Park situated south southeast of downtown in
the vicinity of Rice University, is an expansive open space that looked to be a
popular and attractive destination for locals and visitors alike. Home to museums, cultural institutions and
amphitheaters, numerous water features, statues, memorials, gardens and shade
trees, the park sits adjacent to the Houston Zoo and a public golf course.
The relaxing time at the park caused me to become
hungry for some Texas BBQ. Not knowing
where the best places in the city are located, we found Pappas Bar-B-Q in
downtown. The establishment catered to
the working stiff in the downtown offices.
I ordered a beef brisket sandwich with tangy BBQ sauce on a French roll
packed with onions. Delicious!
The time quickly arrived for our return to the airport
to drop off the rental car, catch the shuttle and proceed through the dreaded
and chaotic security lines at IAH. We arrived at LAX safe and sound and we were
happy to check off another state, even though I failed my pace time goal. Hey, I don’t do heat!
Leaving Houston, or Texas for that matter, was a sad
day for me. Our trip only confirmed that
when I retire, I will happily leave California behind, not look back, and
seriously consider Texas as my new home state.
I can fit right in with the conservative atmosphere of Sugar Land and
the surrounding area.
Yes, California has a lot to offer and the state can
boast about many things, but the political climate, cost of living and governmental
regulations are major turn-offs for me and only fuels my internal fire of antipathy.
The marathon from my point of view? Yes, the course is flat and fast. Flat, of course; fast, absolutely not, since
I cannot cope with high heat indices. The
humidity – common – but the high temperatures – not common for early February. Both came together creating a hostile environment. The weather was certainly not ideal, but the
subtropical conditions made this event a testament to my actual fitness level.
Given the looped nature of the course, marathoners run
past everything twice. It’s suburban
Houston – for those who run for the scenic splendor, consider another marathon. Warning: reader discretion, science content
ahead. The concrete streets typical of
Houston definitely influence runners in terms of energy absorption versus
asphaltic surfaces. Considering the high
surface temperatures and the Young’s Moduli of each material, asphalt will
absorb almost 100 times the energy than concrete. No wonder my feet and muscles were killing
me.
I live in a hot and arid climate with temperatures frequently
exceeding 100 degrees during the summer.
But it’s a dry heat. My hot
weather training and acclimatization evidently did not prepare me enough to endure
the significantly higher dew points characteristic of Houston. Keeping pace without any water stations
throughout the first six miles of each loop was a real challenge.
Surprisingly, the marathon had a very small contingent
of runners. Of course there is nothing
wrong with that, I like small marathons, but the field of runners thinned out
considerably once the half-marathoners finished. Basically, I had no one in my pace group for practically
the entire second half. At least I had
several flood control structures and features I could study and look at while running
alone for those long stretches.
Other than people at the start/finish, spectators
along the course were few and far between.
Some onlookers set up their own make-shift water stations handing out
ice cold bottles of water, God bless them.
The volunteers at the water stations were very
supportive and made sure everyone was hydrated and fueled when there were food
items available, pretzels, Oreos, and cookies.
Unlike most marathons, runners must complete the
marathon, or half, to earn their race specific finisher’s shirt. In a way, I’m glad that’s the case. I wear my shirt with pride, and I think back
how much it took to earn those tough 26 miles 385 yards.
I wonder what the participation rate would be if this
marathon was held on Super Bowl weekend.
Oh, everyone heads for Surf City in Huntington Beach, CA during that
weekend.
