Rolling into San Antonio early Saturday morning, there was a sense of urgency in the air – I hoped I planned enough drive time, pre-race preparation, time to greet fellow runners and so forth. But now we were flying down 281 in the dark and there was a bit of stress detectable in my voice. Turns out, we arrived with time to spare – but only enough for the essential pre-race formalities. Every runner’s traditions vary slightly but most have some similarities. Mine have remained rather consistent over the past couple years: Ingestion of calories, depletion of waste, and a head to toe application of Desitin to prevent chaffing.

We found the race site – O P Schnabel Park in San Antonio. Pulling into the parking area it was still dark, prior to the change in time. There was a 7:30 AM race start and it was just after 7:00. After a brief talk by Roger Soler, the race director, about the terrain and how the course was marked, he explained that there were 10k, 25k and 50k options. The 10k option attracted the bulk of the runners. Still, the race was an excellent introduction for anyone interested in a snapshot of the excitement and camaraderie of running trails. Roger was careful to depict the trail by identifying specific type of marking that would mark the race course. He then instructed everyone to line up, and hurry up and finish by noon so they could have lunch. I quickly did the math in my head – it was 7:30 – noon was four and a half hours away. That came out to somewhere around a 8:45 pace. I giggled a bit to myself and started running.

The initial 4-5 miles of the race was sweet single track. I was impressed with the course Roger made – after all, this was a ‘trail run’ within the confines of San Antonio. As I left the starting line I remember thinking to go slow – it’s always better to go slow and pass runners than going out too fast from the start, spending the race getting passed. Which would’ve been fine except that the tight single track prevented anyone from passing the slowest runner. Then, all of a sudden, some dude named Rob yelled “Go Right” – he was familiar with the course and caught a grouping of orange markers off the right that everyone missed – they were our markers. Somehow I ended up in front of Rob who later identified himself as a Whole Earth employee. We chatted for awhile while moving at a nice clip. I kept noticing that Rob’s breathing was always a little calmer and more controlled than mine and soon I let him and some others pass. Oh ya, before I go any further - how could I forget to tell you about the great support team I brought! We made the trip from Austin in two cars – four people in total. Me and a crew of blonde pacers. Just the kind of motivation I needed to get to the finish line! (The plan was: Kathy was going to cruise through the first loop with me and then she was turning me over to Kristine and Michelle.) About 8:00, Kathy and I were cruising through the predawn hours, about to have a better idea of our surroundings. The terrain varied throughout the race –singletrack, skirting dry creek beds with high rising rock walls along a side provided quick changes in elevation. I remember commenting on some similarities to Palo Duro but in hindsight resembled nothing like them. Trails perfect for both running and mountain biking would occasionally open up to reveal expanses of construction areas which proved difficult to run on.

We came into the end of the first loop and I swung right into the restrooms. I remember thinking that part of the adjustment that your body makes to the increase in mileage occurs with your stomach’s ability to handle stresses put on itself or what it’s owner consumed in the morning. (Both Michelle and I agreed that instant Cappaccino at Tiger Mart should be an absolute NO NO). But this was my justification for the turmoil I felt beneath the waist band of my Camel Bak. It was a quick visit and I hurried off to the chutes to clock my lap time. Then, back to the car to regroup for the remaining 15 miles.

I know what you’re thinking, 31 miles at a comfortable pace. What is the problem? I made a training schedule a couple weeks ago in an attempt to get ready for the 100k at Bandera and realized that I may have prolonged my lazy lifestyle of ice cream and margaritas a little too long. I found myself doubling my long run in a week – 15 to 31 miles. I remember appreciating having my friends there for moral support. They had all crawled out of bed particularly early that morning and as Kathy waved bye, two more eager girls lead the way into the woods. (I know I am a lucky bastard). So I made a trip to our support vehicle for a change of clothes, some calories, and all the other necessities of trail running – somehow I wasted a good 25 mins but it made all the difference in how I felt. I was ready for more – giddy up cowboy!!!

We made our way out on the trail once again – the temps were warming up a little closer to 80 degrees. There were aid stations about once every 2-3 miles equipped with Army Rangers trained on the ability to both dive out of airplanes and “drop and give me 50” on que. (Not to mention provided nice eye candy for Kristine and Michelle). For the second loop I left my Camel Bak in the car and decided to carry a water bottle.

We played tag with Morgan and Kim throughout the second loop (friends from Bastrop a few weeks ago). We were all moving on at a similar pace – they would pass us and so on and so forth (Kim ended up finishing before me and Morgan mentioned something about getting lost on the end of the trail). Morgan was wearing a NO WHIMPS tank top and every time he passed me I yelled NO WHIMPS!!!

My only criticism of this race was the wimpy aid station supplies. The staffing was great but the Fly Boys were all clueless as to what mile marker they were at and, unlike the trail runs I had become accustomed to, lacked the intricate selection of food and beverage.

I had a lot of fun and the sun felt great during the race. It could not have been more than 85 degrees but the feeling was so refreshing compared to summer. When I finally crossed the finish line I was told that only two runners remained in the trail. I admit, not my most impressive finish but not too far off track! Everyone made our way back to the support vehicle and managed to find a hidden cooler, all the way in the stern which held an impressively cold selection of finishers medals.