Brian Baresch
I picked Austin for my BQ attempt because I've heard it's fast and well supported. Aiming for 3:20
was a fair bit aggressive given where I was at a year ago (ran a 47:50 10K in January 2002, at a
pace slower than a BQ 'thon). But I'd made some progress in the past year and decided it was worth a
try. After my last three 'thons in 2000 and 2001 -- 4:40, 4:16, 4:24, undertrained for all three --
I wanted to do this right, so I followed Pfitzinger's plan and averaged 50 mpw for two months.
Despite a pulled hamstring in November and a pulled groin muscle in January, I only missed a couple
of workouts the whole way through.
My GF from Kansas City came down for the weekend, and we drove to Austin from Fort Worth on
Saturday. On the way to the hotel we drove most of the course, skipping miles 16-18 because of heavy
traffic; it was indeed mostly downhill in the first half then fairly flat thereafter. I had a
headache the whole day for some reason, the persistent kind that usually only goes away with sleep
-- and my sleep had been off for several days. It was a bit worrying. We had dinner with friends at
a vegetarian Chinese restaurant near the UT campus, and we sat near the door and I got chilled from
the drafts. More headache. Ugh. Back to the hotel and I tried to rest.
I woke up at 3am, four hours before race time, to have an apple, then tried to get back to sleep but
no luck. By 5 I was getting dressed, but my headache was still there, joined by a queasy stomach. In
a race like this you can dress for weather at the start or the finish; it was a close call, but as
bad as I felt I figured I better coddle myself early on, so I went with tights and a long-sleeve
shirt with a singlet over it, plus gloves, and a headband under my usual cap. We walked across the
Congress Street bridge to catch the shuttle bus and rode to the start. There, we waited in another
hotel lobby, out of the cold (it was about 33 degrees outside), till about 6:25. I made it through
the porta-potty line by 6:40, jogged for 5 minutes, then stretched. I thought I heard the race begin
as I ran toward the crowd, but it was the wheelchair start instead. Whew. I worked my way up to the
3:15 pace group and started to feel warm with all the bodies around me.
My strategy was to go with the 3:15 group for a few miles, then decide whether to hang in with
them, drop back or push ahead. Most likely, I figured I could stay with that group till about the
half, then ease off a bit and still make 3:20. I had to work a bit to stay with the group at first,
but they never got far ahead. The first mile was 8:02, reasonable given that it was uphill. We made
it up in the second mile with a 7 flat. The crowd support up here, around research and industrial
parks, was minimal, but there were plenty of volunteers, and water stops every mile. Miles 3-4 went
by in 14:21; I was getting water at the 3 marker and forgot to record the split. The pace worried
me a bit, but the group soon settled down. The leaders were two guys taking turns carrying the pace
sign. By mile 5 the sun was coming up and it was getting warmer. My headache seemed to be gone.
Mile 5 was
7:24, right on pace, which eased some of my anxiety. By this time one pace guy was 5 yards ahead of
me and the one with the sign was 5-10 yards back. I liked that, so I stayed where I was. But by
mile 7 or so the front guy dropped back to take his turn with the sign, and I didn't want to slow
down so I decided to see if I could keep up the pace on my own.
The course by this time had left the industrial area and was going between residences and the Mopac
freeway; it passed a school and went through a nice residential area, then along Shoal Creek. Very
pleasant. We passed a couple of bands keeping us entertained, and somewhere in mile 7 were a couple
of bagpipers. (I said: "Why do bagpipers usually walk when they play? To get away from that noise."
I think someone actually laughed.) We passed 10K in 45:45 or so, by my watch (gun time was about 1
minute more), and I observed out loud that that would have been a PR a year ago; a couple of runners
congratulated me. That felt good!
I was still hitting good splits and decided not to look for the pace group for a while. We made it
to the UT campus with about a mile to go to halfway. Some of the half-marathoners around me looked
to be struggling a bit, so I offered some almost-there words of encouragement. I hit the half in
just over 1:36 -- blazing fast for a flat course; I hoped it wasn't too fast for Austin. (It was
also a post-high school PR.) I had been cruising on the downhills; now came the first big uphill,
about a block long. I decided to just take it as it came, keeping constant effort instead of
attacking it as I would in a 10K. I had enough of a cushion that I figured I didn't need to worry.
A few more blocks and we turned onto 6th Street, past some self-consciously hip boutiques and
eateries of the sort found in all the best trendy college towns. The terrain by now had changed from
mostly downhill to up-and-down, not long hills but they got my attention. Keeping up the pace was
getting harder. Mile 16 was 7:36, the slowest since mile 1. Miles 17-18 were an out-and-back and we
could see the faster folks coming back; I cheered for a woman from my area who was aiming for a
3:03. (I found out later that she missed by a couple of minutes but still placed 3rd in her age
group.) It was fun seeing the 3:00 and 3:10 pace groups go by. On the way back I saw that the 3:15
folks weren't far behind me. In fact before long the outbound folks were actually yelling "Go, 3:15
group!" as I went by, so I knew they were on my heels. That gave me some speed. Mile 18 was 7:25 and
I felt better. Then came a mile and a half through some parklike land on the north edge of Town
Lake, where crowd support was virtually nil, though I think it was along there that we passed a steel-
drum band; way cool. Even without the crowds I managed a 7:14 for 19. The second half of mile 20 was
back downtown, and the cheering section was back in force. I passed 20 in 2:27 feeling pretty good,
all things considered.
Now the real test began. I had been training for this last 6.2 miles for months, and I believed I
was prepared to turn in a strong finish. For motivation I decided to count the men I passed,
deducting one for each one who passed me. Before the 20 mark I rarely saw anyone walking, but after
20 I must have passed four or five walkers each mile. I also passed a bunch of people just going
slow. Miles 21 and 22 were on pace, but 23 was 7:40, and the pace group almost caught me; I could
hear their hoofbeats like a herd of wildebeest. (Usually if I gained on them it was at a water
station where I took nothing or an most a couple of gulps; the group in general tended to slow down
a bit at water stops.) At 23 my watch read 2:50; I knew I could slow-jog the rest of the way and get
my BQ, but I wanted to see what I could do, so I kept slogging. My quads hurt! We crossed the dam at
the east end of Town Lake and turned back west, the last big turn in the race; now that we were
heading for the finish, it felt as if the worst psychological barrier was past. I was picking off
runners left and right. Occasionally someone would pass me, and I'd go with him for a while because
it actually felt easier than letting him go; sometimes he'd drop me anyhow, sometimes I'd drop him
instead. I'd been watching a youngish shirtless guy with red hair a bit ahead of me since mile 20; I
was pretty sure I wouldn't catch him, but I could stay with him. Mile 25 was my slowest since the
start, 7:42, but then with only a mile or so to go I turned on what passes for afterburners in my
little world, hit 26 in 7:13, and into the chute toward the finish. One or two people outkicked me,
but so what? The announcer at the finish line was whipping up cheers for these people coming in just
under 3:15 (hey, he means me!), and the clock read 3:14:59 when I hit the timing mat. I raised my
fists for the finishing cameras, then finally stopped my watch: 3:14:03, an all-time PR, and of
course a BQ. Woo hoo!
My official chip time was 3:14:00 (actually 3:13:59.7). I was 34th of 474 in my AG, 279th of 2866
men. I got a nice medal, stood for a picture, then got food and drink and found a grassy spot for
some more stretching. A half-mile hike to the hotel for an ice bath and shower, and I felt human
again. We went to Threadgill's across from the 26 marker for lunch, then wandered over to the finish
area to cheer for the last folks coming in. One was a 79-year-old woman who looked happy as could
be. Soon the last ones came into view, a couple of women walking together; one was wiping tears from
her eyes. My GF, who finished the NYCM last year in just over 8 hours, knew that feeling quite well.
Overall the crowd support was excellent. Everyone was cheering. A lot encouraged me by name, since
I had written it on my shirt; that helped an awful lot, more than I had expected. The course was
well marked, with visible mile markers (I only missed 14, and that was on a downtown corner where
it would have been hard to spot). Most of the streets were closed to all traffic; in some spots we
had half the road; along Riverside Drive the last mile or so, though, we had one lane out of four.
That always bugs me. But the police were doing a good job keeping the traffic under control even
there. The water stations were well done; my only quibble in that area is that a couple of them
were so close to the mile markers that it was hard to both drink and hit my split button -- I
missed a few that way. At least two (that I remember, anyway) aid stations had sticks with Vaseline
on them. (The paper the next day quoted one aid worker who said some runners didn't listen closely
enough and tried to eat the stuff, thinking it was PowerGel.) Our pace leaders did a great job; I
made sure to thank them personally after the race. The food was bagels, oranges, bananas, granola
bars, and plates of hot eggs, sausage, and biscuits and gravy, plus bottles of water and Powerade
-- and after the last runners crossed, I noticed that there was still a decent amount of food left.
The clothing dropoff and pickup went real smoothly. Two other concerns: First, the reunion area was
not where the maps said it would be, so my GF and I had a hard time connecting; good thing I
thought to put my cell phone in my dropoff bag. And the running surface on the dam, half of mile
24, was concrete with sand on it; any chance they could have done something about that sand? It
seemed a bit treacherous to me.
I felt inspired by all the Team in Training folks. There were a lot of them, fast ones and
slow ones, including a big chunk of the last few dozen finishers, and they unfailingly
supported one another.
The bands along the course were a nice touch, of course, with variety: Hard rock, laid-back, steel
drums, mainstream rock, some others I can't remember, plus, not far from the finish, a fiddle band
playing some old-time FAST numbers -- just the thing for the end of the race.
Overall: Fast course, well organized, well supported. I had to look hard to find complaints.
8.75 stars. Brian Bob says check it out.
--
Brian P. Baresch Fort Worth, Texas, USA Professional editing and proofreading
If you're going through hell, keep going. --Winston Churchill
was a fair bit aggressive given where I was at a year ago (ran a 47:50 10K in January 2002, at a
pace slower than a BQ 'thon). But I'd made some progress in the past year and decided it was worth a
try. After my last three 'thons in 2000 and 2001 -- 4:40, 4:16, 4:24, undertrained for all three --
I wanted to do this right, so I followed Pfitzinger's plan and averaged 50 mpw for two months.
Despite a pulled hamstring in November and a pulled groin muscle in January, I only missed a couple
of workouts the whole way through.
My GF from Kansas City came down for the weekend, and we drove to Austin from Fort Worth on
Saturday. On the way to the hotel we drove most of the course, skipping miles 16-18 because of heavy
traffic; it was indeed mostly downhill in the first half then fairly flat thereafter. I had a
headache the whole day for some reason, the persistent kind that usually only goes away with sleep
-- and my sleep had been off for several days. It was a bit worrying. We had dinner with friends at
a vegetarian Chinese restaurant near the UT campus, and we sat near the door and I got chilled from
the drafts. More headache. Ugh. Back to the hotel and I tried to rest.
I woke up at 3am, four hours before race time, to have an apple, then tried to get back to sleep but
no luck. By 5 I was getting dressed, but my headache was still there, joined by a queasy stomach. In
a race like this you can dress for weather at the start or the finish; it was a close call, but as
bad as I felt I figured I better coddle myself early on, so I went with tights and a long-sleeve
shirt with a singlet over it, plus gloves, and a headband under my usual cap. We walked across the
Congress Street bridge to catch the shuttle bus and rode to the start. There, we waited in another
hotel lobby, out of the cold (it was about 33 degrees outside), till about 6:25. I made it through
the porta-potty line by 6:40, jogged for 5 minutes, then stretched. I thought I heard the race begin
as I ran toward the crowd, but it was the wheelchair start instead. Whew. I worked my way up to the
3:15 pace group and started to feel warm with all the bodies around me.
My strategy was to go with the 3:15 group for a few miles, then decide whether to hang in with
them, drop back or push ahead. Most likely, I figured I could stay with that group till about the
half, then ease off a bit and still make 3:20. I had to work a bit to stay with the group at first,
but they never got far ahead. The first mile was 8:02, reasonable given that it was uphill. We made
it up in the second mile with a 7 flat. The crowd support up here, around research and industrial
parks, was minimal, but there were plenty of volunteers, and water stops every mile. Miles 3-4 went
by in 14:21; I was getting water at the 3 marker and forgot to record the split. The pace worried
me a bit, but the group soon settled down. The leaders were two guys taking turns carrying the pace
sign. By mile 5 the sun was coming up and it was getting warmer. My headache seemed to be gone.
Mile 5 was
7:24, right on pace, which eased some of my anxiety. By this time one pace guy was 5 yards ahead of
me and the one with the sign was 5-10 yards back. I liked that, so I stayed where I was. But by
mile 7 or so the front guy dropped back to take his turn with the sign, and I didn't want to slow
down so I decided to see if I could keep up the pace on my own.
The course by this time had left the industrial area and was going between residences and the Mopac
freeway; it passed a school and went through a nice residential area, then along Shoal Creek. Very
pleasant. We passed a couple of bands keeping us entertained, and somewhere in mile 7 were a couple
of bagpipers. (I said: "Why do bagpipers usually walk when they play? To get away from that noise."
I think someone actually laughed.) We passed 10K in 45:45 or so, by my watch (gun time was about 1
minute more), and I observed out loud that that would have been a PR a year ago; a couple of runners
congratulated me. That felt good!
I was still hitting good splits and decided not to look for the pace group for a while. We made it
to the UT campus with about a mile to go to halfway. Some of the half-marathoners around me looked
to be struggling a bit, so I offered some almost-there words of encouragement. I hit the half in
just over 1:36 -- blazing fast for a flat course; I hoped it wasn't too fast for Austin. (It was
also a post-high school PR.) I had been cruising on the downhills; now came the first big uphill,
about a block long. I decided to just take it as it came, keeping constant effort instead of
attacking it as I would in a 10K. I had enough of a cushion that I figured I didn't need to worry.
A few more blocks and we turned onto 6th Street, past some self-consciously hip boutiques and
eateries of the sort found in all the best trendy college towns. The terrain by now had changed from
mostly downhill to up-and-down, not long hills but they got my attention. Keeping up the pace was
getting harder. Mile 16 was 7:36, the slowest since mile 1. Miles 17-18 were an out-and-back and we
could see the faster folks coming back; I cheered for a woman from my area who was aiming for a
3:03. (I found out later that she missed by a couple of minutes but still placed 3rd in her age
group.) It was fun seeing the 3:00 and 3:10 pace groups go by. On the way back I saw that the 3:15
folks weren't far behind me. In fact before long the outbound folks were actually yelling "Go, 3:15
group!" as I went by, so I knew they were on my heels. That gave me some speed. Mile 18 was 7:25 and
I felt better. Then came a mile and a half through some parklike land on the north edge of Town
Lake, where crowd support was virtually nil, though I think it was along there that we passed a steel-
drum band; way cool. Even without the crowds I managed a 7:14 for 19. The second half of mile 20 was
back downtown, and the cheering section was back in force. I passed 20 in 2:27 feeling pretty good,
all things considered.
Now the real test began. I had been training for this last 6.2 miles for months, and I believed I
was prepared to turn in a strong finish. For motivation I decided to count the men I passed,
deducting one for each one who passed me. Before the 20 mark I rarely saw anyone walking, but after
20 I must have passed four or five walkers each mile. I also passed a bunch of people just going
slow. Miles 21 and 22 were on pace, but 23 was 7:40, and the pace group almost caught me; I could
hear their hoofbeats like a herd of wildebeest. (Usually if I gained on them it was at a water
station where I took nothing or an most a couple of gulps; the group in general tended to slow down
a bit at water stops.) At 23 my watch read 2:50; I knew I could slow-jog the rest of the way and get
my BQ, but I wanted to see what I could do, so I kept slogging. My quads hurt! We crossed the dam at
the east end of Town Lake and turned back west, the last big turn in the race; now that we were
heading for the finish, it felt as if the worst psychological barrier was past. I was picking off
runners left and right. Occasionally someone would pass me, and I'd go with him for a while because
it actually felt easier than letting him go; sometimes he'd drop me anyhow, sometimes I'd drop him
instead. I'd been watching a youngish shirtless guy with red hair a bit ahead of me since mile 20; I
was pretty sure I wouldn't catch him, but I could stay with him. Mile 25 was my slowest since the
start, 7:42, but then with only a mile or so to go I turned on what passes for afterburners in my
little world, hit 26 in 7:13, and into the chute toward the finish. One or two people outkicked me,
but so what? The announcer at the finish line was whipping up cheers for these people coming in just
under 3:15 (hey, he means me!), and the clock read 3:14:59 when I hit the timing mat. I raised my
fists for the finishing cameras, then finally stopped my watch: 3:14:03, an all-time PR, and of
course a BQ. Woo hoo!
My official chip time was 3:14:00 (actually 3:13:59.7). I was 34th of 474 in my AG, 279th of 2866
men. I got a nice medal, stood for a picture, then got food and drink and found a grassy spot for
some more stretching. A half-mile hike to the hotel for an ice bath and shower, and I felt human
again. We went to Threadgill's across from the 26 marker for lunch, then wandered over to the finish
area to cheer for the last folks coming in. One was a 79-year-old woman who looked happy as could
be. Soon the last ones came into view, a couple of women walking together; one was wiping tears from
her eyes. My GF, who finished the NYCM last year in just over 8 hours, knew that feeling quite well.
Overall the crowd support was excellent. Everyone was cheering. A lot encouraged me by name, since
I had written it on my shirt; that helped an awful lot, more than I had expected. The course was
well marked, with visible mile markers (I only missed 14, and that was on a downtown corner where
it would have been hard to spot). Most of the streets were closed to all traffic; in some spots we
had half the road; along Riverside Drive the last mile or so, though, we had one lane out of four.
That always bugs me. But the police were doing a good job keeping the traffic under control even
there. The water stations were well done; my only quibble in that area is that a couple of them
were so close to the mile markers that it was hard to both drink and hit my split button -- I
missed a few that way. At least two (that I remember, anyway) aid stations had sticks with Vaseline
on them. (The paper the next day quoted one aid worker who said some runners didn't listen closely
enough and tried to eat the stuff, thinking it was PowerGel.) Our pace leaders did a great job; I
made sure to thank them personally after the race. The food was bagels, oranges, bananas, granola
bars, and plates of hot eggs, sausage, and biscuits and gravy, plus bottles of water and Powerade
-- and after the last runners crossed, I noticed that there was still a decent amount of food left.
The clothing dropoff and pickup went real smoothly. Two other concerns: First, the reunion area was
not where the maps said it would be, so my GF and I had a hard time connecting; good thing I
thought to put my cell phone in my dropoff bag. And the running surface on the dam, half of mile
24, was concrete with sand on it; any chance they could have done something about that sand? It
seemed a bit treacherous to me.
I felt inspired by all the Team in Training folks. There were a lot of them, fast ones and
slow ones, including a big chunk of the last few dozen finishers, and they unfailingly
supported one another.
The bands along the course were a nice touch, of course, with variety: Hard rock, laid-back, steel
drums, mainstream rock, some others I can't remember, plus, not far from the finish, a fiddle band
playing some old-time FAST numbers -- just the thing for the end of the race.
Overall: Fast course, well organized, well supported. I had to look hard to find complaints.
8.75 stars. Brian Bob says check it out.
--
Brian P. Baresch Fort Worth, Texas, USA Professional editing and proofreading
If you're going through hell, keep going. --Winston Churchill
