Albuquerque Half Marathon

Yesterday Brigham and I ran the Los Ranchos de Albuquerque Half Marathon-- our first and last race in Albuquerque. It rained all night before the race, but like in Camelot, it cleared up with the dawn. We were grateful for that because the forecast called for rain.

The race itself was interesting. As we all lined up at the start, the first words out of the race official's mouth were, "This course is well marked." I think most of the runners would disagree because about 200 yards into the race the leading pack (including Brigham) took a wrong turn and ran the wrong way for about a tenth of a mile before figuring it out. They came thundering back just in time for us all to get bottle-necked at a 2 person bridge that went over a little stream. We literally had to stop and wait in line to cross the bridge! On the other side of the bridge was what should have been a beautiful walking path, but thanks to the rain the night before was a muddy wallow. The next two miles of the course we were running through the mud. It was pretty awesome. Mud was flying everywhere, people were sliding into each other, and each foot felt like it carried two pounds of mud on it. The mudslide ended with a steep little hill onto the blessed pavement where I very nearly ended up on my backside-- eliciting sympathetic remarks from the runners behind me (who carefully avoided following in my footsteps, I'm sure). The rest of the course was actually quite nice. I did well until right as I was passing mile marker 5 when my right knee suddenly seized up. It was very painful and I felt like I couldn't straighten it out. I didn't know what to do. With a big relay race coming up in June should I pull out to avoid further injury? I limped along for about 3/4 of a mile and then it finally started to relax again. It still hurt, but at least I didn't feel like like I was dragging my leg along anymore. I started to get back into a groove around mile 9, but was seized by a murderous side-ache around mile 11. I continued to propel my sorry self forward, and when I got to mile 12 I saw that my goal (finishing under 2 hours) was still attainable if I pushed myself. So I pushed and crossed the finish line at 1:59:34. Brigham on the other hand, had the race of his life-- in spite of running the wrong way, getting stopped at the bridge, and running through the mud. He kept surprising himself by running faster than his goal mile splits. He kept waiting to burn out, but he never did. He took third place in his age division with a 1:36:49! It's been all he can do to escape the media, choose from potential sponsors, and decline speaking engagements. He actually did have someone offer him a coaching position at a junior high! Watch out Boston, here comes Brigham!