Texas

The city remained strangely quiet; the grandstands across from the Alamo were empty as I passed. The course headed north past many unique restaurants and businesses, a refreshing change from the typical commercial blandness that strips most cities and suburbs of their personality. The original course would've taken us through Fort Sam Houston; in changes made for post-9/11 security, I saw only the Brooke Army Medical Center as I ran along the Fort's northern perimeter. As I returned on this out/back segment the sun had fully risen but overcast clouds hindered it from assaulting me outright.

The pack began passing me during m12 as I entered a park adjoining the Zoo. As I passed the halfway point at 8:15 a.m. I realized I still had a chance to break six hours. But the temperature kept climbing steadily. Sluggishness stalked me as I headed to downtown and turned west on Commerce for another out-and-back. A Tex-Mex band played a medly of a slightly-slowed La Bamba that morphed into Twist and Shout.

Heading down Main to Guenther, I put forth respectable effort near Brackenridge Senior High, but heat and humidity continued draining me. After crossing a growing traffic backup at a major intersection, the course went to another turnaround at Mission Point.

Backed-up cars honked furiously as I crossed the intersection on the return. I don't want to mess with angry Texans. Don't they still have that "Dirty Harry" concealed weapons law?

After m25 took me around Hemisfair Plaza again, I clomped over the pedestrian overpass toward the Alamodome and found a still-enthusiastic crowd at the finish line. All 1003 official finishers were herded like steamy-hot Angus cattle into the Alamodome to receive a baked potato with rice and beans.