The runner's Expo is gigantic, and any vendor you can imagine is there, and then some. You can get 104% of the running gear you would ever need, and they have specialty booths for things you never imagined you would ever want, like shelves to hang your participant medals from, medical teams that measure your oxygen volume as you run on a treadmill, energy bars and goos and drinks galore, sticks and wands and magnets and other things to rub on your sore muscles post-workout, brightly-colored kinesthetic tape for shoring up shins splints and tricky IT bands, or t-shirts that say things like "If Found On Ground, Please Drag Across Finish Line" and "If you see me collapse, please hit 'Pause' on my Garmin."
HEB puts on a buffet in the George R. Brown convention center at no charge to the runners, stuffing us with scrambled eggs, biscuits, sausage and bacon. There are multiple cold and hot drink stations, and ice cream and vendors with energy and recovery drinks are everywhere. Seating is plentiful, as is floor-space for stretching, and this year they added changing areas, which was a nice touch. The reunion area is large and indoors, and they have photographers stationed around to capture you with your loved ones. I have personally never been to the post-race party they throw across the street at Discovery Green, mostly because my want to get home, shower and nap are greater than my want to celebrate, but I hear it's also nice.
I have finished the Houston half three times- once running, once walking in a surgical boot, and this year running 3/4 of the race.
The surgical boot year is a funny story, looking back, and a true testament to how hard-headed I can be.
Exactly one week before the race, I was on a training run in Memorial Park with my sister-in-law, Anne, and we had just hit the halfway point of the 3-mile loop when I got a sharp pain in my right foot, on the top, about where most shoe laces would be. I was running in minimalist shoes, a pair of Altras I had been using to help improve my form from it's bad heel-strike tendencies. We walked a bit, and when we started running again, the pain became extremely sharp, so we walked the rest of the loop back to our cars. The next day, my doctor slapped a boot on me, saying it sounded like a stress fracture, and told me to take it easy for a week.
What? I totally followed her instructions.
I stayed off my foot as much as possible, using crutches for a few days until my shoulders couldn't handle it anymore, and then sticking to the couch with that foot propped up high. That next Sunday morning, I put on my warmest running clothes, strapped up that boot, and walked 13.1 miles.
I was something of a spectacle that day. It certainly was a great conversation starter for fellow walkers, who all wanted to know why on earth I couldn't have just stayed home and run the following year, or if I was clinically insane, or if my doctor had approved my activity. Well, I couldn't defer my race, since the day BEFORE I injured my foot was the final day to defer to the following year. Yes, it seemed I was clinically insane. What my doctor didn't know wouldn't hurt her.
But I finished, dammit. With a smile, and an army of friends and family telling me I was insane but dedicated. (We won't talk about the hip pain I struggled with for 5 months after the race, though. It worked itself out eventually.) Two weeks later, when the boot came off, I threatened to nail it to the wall and hang my finisher's medal from it. I still might! This year's race started rainy and freezing and, dare I say, miserable. I ran at least the first 5 miles in my black trash bag to keep my torso from getting soaked, and hardly broke a sweat because of the temperature! The cold made for stiff legs if you stopped, which I unfortunately had to do at mile 8 for a bathroom break. Anne, who was my race companion, had to start walking because of knee pain about mile 9 or 10, so the end of the race was chilly. But we did run from the mile 13 marker to the finish line, which helped our legs a little, and made for nice finisher photos.
But I have to say that the highlight of this year's race was my training buddy, Deji, and his late start. I sent Deji a text about 6:15 telling him I was headed downtown to park, and to set-up a meeting place- he and Anne and I were all planning on at least starting the race together. I finally called him as Anne and I were leaving the convention center at 7am, and it woke him up- he had slept through his alarm and was at least 8 miles away at home, and the first corral of runners was starting!
Anne and I shivered in the pelting rain in the open corral for another 20 minutes as we waited for our group to shuffle to the starting line. Our shoes were soaked, and we hadn't even started running. I was glad I had thought to grab a hat before I left, because it kept a tiny bit of warmth from escaping, even though it was more soaked than my shoes. The cotton throw-away gloves were wet, too, as were my legs under my running tights. The only dry parts were under that precious trash bag, and I felt bad for the drenched and frozen people around me that had neglected to bring this handy and inexpensive necessity that morning. Deji was parking his car as we were crossing the start- he still had to check his gear and wind through the maze of gates along the starting route to start his race! He started his race about 35 minutes after the first group, and he was the ONLY runner for a few miles- he had to run on the sidewalk in some areas because the street cleaning crew monopolized the road! We finally saw him as we were waiting in line for the bathroom around mile 8- he was winded, cold, and couldn't stop or he'd freeze, but he had caught up and passed us- he ended up finishing before us by about 30 minutes!
Will I run this one again? Absolutely! IF I'm lucky enough to gain an entry spot via the lottery again this summer.
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