Tagged: Houston
Random running loves No. 2: running in strange places
Here’s a really quite random list of places. Your challenge: to work out what they have in common (this is a bit like Only Connect, except with more options and not quite as difficult…).
Barwell Business Park, across the road from Chessington World of Adventure.
The Sprat and Winkle Line trail, Hampshire.
Sam Houston Race Park horse racing course, Houston, Texas.
Panshanger Park, Hertfordshire.
Parque de el Retiro, Madrid, Spain.
Leith waterfront, Edinburgh.
Sainsbury’s experimental pear orchard in East Malling, Kent.
Any idea? Alright, given the subject matter of this site you’ve probably been able to give it a good guess – so you’ve probably figured out that they’re just some of the places that I went running – either in a race or just for fun – in 2016.
Some of those places were lovely: The Sprat and Winkle Line was a pleasant trot through lovely English woods. The Parque de el Retiro was an amazing tour through a grand Spanish park. Some of them weren’t: sorry Barwell Business Park, but you are, and always will be, an anonymous collection of semi-industrial units. Although you do have that in common with the scenery surrounding Sam Houston Race Park.
But whether beautiful or bland, scenic or smelly (hello parts of Leith…), they’re all places that I was able to explore because of running. And for every place I’ve run that would make for a lovely tourist trip, there are plenty of others that I wouldn’t ever have gone to if I hadn’t been running in, through or past them. In a way, that makes running in such random and odd places – and yes, we’re talking business parks, industrial estates, schools, country backroads and so on here – really quite special.
Think about it. A joy of running a big city event like the London Marathon is that you get to see some world-famous landmarks from a different perspective. Running over Tower Bridge, or passing Buckingham Palace as I turned onto The Mall, during the marathon was a really cool experience. But it wasn’t like I’d never been across Tower Bridge, or visited Buckingham Palace, before.
But before I tackled the Larkfield 10k last year, I’d never been near East Malling Research Station. I may well never go back there again. But, thanks to running, I’ve been there, and I’ve seen it.
So there you go. I love getting the chance to run in some beautiful, scenic and spectacular locations – the centre of London, downtown Houston, heck, even just the Thames path near where I live in Richmond-upon-Thames. But I also love getting the chance to run in places that I might never think of visiting otherwise, no matter how unusual, odd, ugly or drab.
Previous Random Running Loves…
Houston Marathon reflections, part four: Atters 3:16 says I planned my pacing well
This is the fourth in a series reflecting on my 2017 Houston Marathon experience. You can read my first reactions here, the about the sights and signs here, and about the sounds and smells here.
When I made my way through through the start arch of the Chevron Houston Marathon course at just gone 0700hrs on a humid, misty Texan morning on Sunday January 15, it was just gone 1300hrs in Britain. And while I was beginning to run my dad, and several of my friends, were settling down after a spot of lunch to follow my progress.
Runners prepare to start the Houston Marathon (photo taken by my half marathon-running brother)
While I was the one who actually had to run 26.2 miles, I think I had the easy job. I was responsible for my race; my friends and family could only watch the split times unfold. And while I was utterly aware of how well I was feeling (or otherwise), they were left to guess from the times.
That could be why, when I finished my second marathon in 3h 16m 40s, and 266th out of 7132 finishers, I was perhaps the person who was least impressed. That’s not a #humblebrag – I’m fully aware that’s a pretty handy marathon time, especially for someone who hadn’t taken up running three years ago. And I’m also aware it was nearly 12 minutes quicker than the 3h 28m 17s I set in last year’s London Marathon. It’s just that I set out with a plan and a target time, and I executed it. The only real surprise for me was that everything went so well.
My finish time was pretty much exactly what I was aiming for. Of course, one reason my friends and family might have been surprised was because I didn’t actually tell anyone else my pacing strategy or target time before the event. That was partly because I don’t like adding to the pressure I put on myself by creating expectations – and partly because I didn’t really decide on my target time and pacing strategy until the night before the event. No, really, I was scribbling out different pacing strategies on the free notepad provided in my hotel room at 2200hrs on Saturday evening…
Spit paces and target times, scribbled on a Hampton Inn note pad (other mid-range hotels are available…)
That scrappy bit of paper ultimately provided my strategy. I worked out the average minutes per mile pace I’d need to hit my target time, and tried to run each mile close to that: I had the first date screen of my Garmin watch set to show the distance travelled, my total time and my average lap pace (with my auto lap set to one mile, obviously). I had my second data set to show the overall average pace, and at various points I’d check to see I was within that.
There are, admittedly, more precise ways of doing pacing, but I was wary of them. At last year’s London Marathon expo there were ‘pacing bands’ you could pick up, paper bracelets that told you how long you should take to hit each mile market to run a marathon in a certain time. I picked up five different versions, and only decided which to use when I was in the Greenwich Park start area.
I didn’t actually refer to it much during the race. Worse, when my pace started to falter late on, and I knew my (admittedly optimistic) target time was slipping away, it became painful and frustrating to even look at it – it was a reminder of my over-optimistic folly. I ripped it off somewhere around 22 miles in.
To give me options, I did pick up what I thought were some pace bands, courtesy of Dick’s Sporting Goods, at the Houston expo. But I abandoned any vague thoughts I had of putting one on just in case when I discovered they were actually temporary tattoo transfers. Yeah, couldn’t tip those off during a marathon… they would remain firmly unused.
These are temporary tattoos. Stylish, eh?
Instead, I just tried to run to an average pace, a task made easier by Houston’s flat course. Seriously, it was flat. Just look at how flat it was!
This is what 39m of total elevation gain and 37m of elevation loss in 26.2 miles looks like
A flat course made my planning much easier. I could essentially divide the race into 26 (and a bit) parts, and know that each mile was effectively going to be the same. All I had to do was leave something in hand for the latter portions of the race when my legs were likely to be sore. That was a lesson I learned hard from London, when I set out a little bit faster than I meant to, and – possibly due to a recent illness, possibly due to a lack of marathon experience – really, really struggled in the final few miles. Like, really struggled. Really, I struggled.
In Houston, I was more disciplined. I avoided getting sucked into the atmosphere and speeding up. I tried not to get pulled along faster than I wanted by quicker runners. I just tired to make sure that, near the end of every mile split, I tried to make sure my pace for that mile was somewhere around 7m 25s.
Another factor that helped my discipline was the weather. There were some pretty serious pre-event warnings about the energy-sapping humidity forecast for race day, and I was particularly cautious to ensure I was running with a bit of reserve. I also really planned out my mid-race refuelling and hydration strategy – I drank early and often from the Gatorade and water stations, and also started out with a bottle to guarantee I could get decent fluid on board. And after my previous struggles I finally cracked how to drink out of paper cups while running – a subject I’ll return to in the near-future.
During the race, I tried to stick to my plan and focus on enjoying the experience. I tried not to worry about how far I had left, or what my legs felt like. I just tried to take in all the sights and experiences, letting them distract me from the task at hand. Of course, people tracking me online didn’t have the luxury of being distracted by the awesome spectators.
After last year’s London Marathon, I wrote about the slightly surreal realisation, every time I approached a timing mat (which were placed at 5k intervals, plus half-distance) that friends and family were charting my progress, and studying my splits and times. I had exactly the same feeling during the Houston Marathon, with the added amusement of a six-hour time difference to consider. Even in this connected age, the ability of people to track my progress on a marathon amazes me.
In Burnham-on-Sea, Somerset, my dad was hitting refresh on his computer, flicking between the split times for me and my brother (who did the half marathon) and the live feed of the finish line. In various other parts of the UK, friends and colleagues (some known to me, others I’ve only found out about since) were routinely clicking on the website to see how I was faring.
Back in Texas, in the Hampton Inn Houston Downtown, my mum was tracking my split times on her mobile phone to work out when to leave her hotel room to find a spot at the finish.
And, in perhaps the most surreal example of all, while running the Aramco Houston Half Marathon, my brother was able to keep track of my progress through push notification splits sent to his watch by the Houston Marathon app.
Knowing people are tracking your split times creates a strange form of pressure: I couldn’t help but think about what conclusions they might be drawing. Would they think I was going too fast? Or too slow? Would they think I had adopted a good pacing strategy?
In the end, I tried to put such thoughts out of my mind, and focused on my own race. I’d find out after the marathon what they all thought.
In brief: my mum thought I was going a bit too fast. My dad thought I was pacing it superbly. My brother found motivation in his running from my split times. And, back in the UK, one of my friends later confessed to amazement by the fact I ran the first 5k of a marathon quicker than he’d ever run a 5k…
As an uptight Brit, such compliments are pretty hard to receive. Honest. I tried not to think about where my time would sit among other marathon runners, or in terms of how fast other people can or can’t run. I just wanted to run the marathon to the best of my ability.
I had a plan. A last-minute, relatively loose plan scribbled out on a scrap of paper, but it was a plan. And I stuck to it, and delivered. And that’s what I’m most happy about…
Houston Marathon reflections, part three: the sounds and smells
This is the third in a series reflecting on my 2017 Houston Marathon experience. You can read the first part here, and the second part here.
As the wheelchair, handcycle and athletes with disabilities began the Chevron Housron Marathon at 6.45am, to rousing applause from the other runners, it took me a few moments to recognise the music being played over the speakers: Do it Anyway by the Ben Folds Five.
I was so busy humming along and reflecting on the song’s title making it a clever choice to recognise such incredible athletes, that it took a while before I remembered to be surprised at hearing the Ben Folds Five being played at such a big occasion. The Ben Folds Five. The Ben Folds Five!
The piano-rock three-piece is among my favourite bands, but they’re hardly in regular rotation on mainstream radio, hence my surprise – and delight (As an aside, if you’ve never heard of them, head straight to Spotify…).
Fifteen minutes later, the musical choice to send the first wave of runners across the line was Come on Eileen, by Dexys Midnight Runners. It was defintely a more mainstream choice – if still not an entirely obvious one – and while I did struggle to find a particular reason for it (other than to support the three runners named Eileen who started the half marathon), it was a suitably jaunty number to set the field on its way. Although the ever-changing tempo did make it hard to slip into a running rhythm.
Of course, that does mean I’ll never be able to listen to Come on Eileen again without some vague flashback to crossing the illuminated start line in the early hours of Sunday January 15, 2017.
Do it Anyway and Come on Eileen were just the first of many tunes I heard while running the Houston Marathon, which combined with many other noises to form a rich tapestry of sound that was a truly spectacular assault on the sense.
But it wasn’t just sound: turns out that marathon running also exposes you to plenty of smellls, too. Smells? Want to know more? Read on…
The sounds
You’re never that far from music on the Houston Marathon course, and a key reason for that is all the ‘Hoopla’ zones the organisers set up and support. Once you’ve left the start behind and hit Washington St, numerous bars have live musical acts performing for the runners. And that was a trend that continued round the course. Rock, jazz, blues… it seemed every musical type was covered.
Going past Rice Stadium, runners were entertained by a section of the Rice University Marching Owl Band. There were belly dancers doing their thing to some suitable music.
Occasionally, radio stations were set up on the route, playing tunes and reading out messages of support.
The sound didn’t just come from the music, of course. There were the frequent shouts of encouragement from the spectators (read more about that in the first of my series of reflections here). There was more shouting at many of the drinks stations:
“Water!”
“Gatorade!”
“Water!”
“Gatorade!”
It was a duelling drinks chant to help ensure you could find the right fluid. Even once I’d realised that the Gatorade was always offered out before the water at the drinks stations (and that the two drinks came in different coloured cups), the regular calls added a spot of familiarity approaching each drinks station – and was just another example of how great the organisers and volunteers were.
But neither the music, nor the cheers of the crowd, provided the sound I’ll remember most from the Houston Marathon. Because, permeating everything, was the sound of cowbells.
Now, cowbells aren’t a particularly big thing in Britain, but they were hugely popular among spectators on the course (including my mum, niece and nephew). That could have been because at least two event sponsors – Skechers and Geico – were handing them out to fans, or it could be because Texans just like cowbells.
Regardless of the reason, the small bells can make a tremendous noise, especially when there are lots of them being rung together. And, strangely, it never really got annoying. I’d kinda expected hearing cowbells ringing virtually non-stop for just over three hours would be annoying. But it wasn’t. So there you go…
The smells
One of the more unusual moments I remember from the London Marathon was passing a KFC about an hour into the route. As I approached, I was hit by the distinctive whiff of fried chicken. I couldn’t decide – I still can’t – if it smelt glorious or terrible. It both made me want to eat friend chicken, and unsettled my disposition mid-marathon run.
Regardless, it demonstrated that the effort of running a marathon heightens all your sense. And the Houston Marathon course passed a lot of restaurants and bars. And Texas didn’t disappoint.
A few miles into the course, a Jack In The Box smelled particularly tasty, while a handful of taquerias gave me a desire for Mexican (frequently my post-race dining of choice, of course). I was a little surprised not to smell fried chicken when the course passed a Chick Fil-A, until I remembered that chain doesn’t open on Sundays…
Not every smell was quite so pleasant. Just after half-distance the course briefly traversed an access road to Interstate 610 (aka Houston’s inner loop), and perhaps unsurprisingly there was a generally unpleasant sort-of eggy smell in the air. It was hard to resist speeding up to try and escape the smell quicker.
But let’s finish on a positive note, and the most glorious thing I smelt on the marathon route – and by a wide margin. And it was something very, very Texas: smoked meat.
Heading down Kirby Drive, the course went past Goode Company Barbeque, and even though it was several hours before it opened for business the meat smokers were clearly already in action. And it smelled… glorious. Just glorious.
You’ll find the glorious, distinctive smell of a wood smoker whenever you get near Texas BBQ, but I don’t think I’ve ever encountered any that smelled that good before. Perhaps that was just because my senses were being heightened by the marathon. Or perhaps it was just really good quality BBQ.
Alas, I didn’t get to find out: not only was Goode Company BBQ not open, but I was busy running a marathon. But here’s the thing. It smelt so good that, had it been open, I may well have been tempted to take a break from the marathon and sample some brisket…
Houston Marathon reflections, part two: spectator sights and signs
This is the second in a series reflecting on the 2017 Houston Marathon. You can read the first part here.
The key to motivation, at least according to Homer Simpson, is donuts – and, of course, the possibility of more donuts to come. And that profound advice clearly struck one spectator on the Chevron Houston Marathon course.
Around 11-and-a-half miles into the course, running along Wesleyan St, I noticed a man by the side of the road waggling a big, long stick in the direction of the runners ahead of me. From a distance it seemed a little concerning, until I noticed what had been shoved onto the end of the stick: a donut. A big ring donut. He was offering runners a motivational donut.
It was, admittedly, a tempting proposition. Donuts are, after all, quite tasty. They’re also incredibly bad for you, although an excessive amount of calories isn’t really something that need concern runners approaching the halfway point of a marathon. But I declined: I’d carefully plotted out my mid-race hydration and refuelling strategy and it didn’t include donuts.
Still, a man waving a donut on a stick was just one of many memories I’ll take away from my 26.2-mile running tour of Houston. For the second in my randomly meandering series of Houston Marathon reflections (you can read the first here), I’m going to look back at some of the memorable spectator sights and signs from the event.
Before we begin, a quick note: you might notice a lack of images of the sights and signs on this page. That’s because I don’t run with my phone, so had no way of capturing them. So, er, sorry about that. You’ll just have to take my word for it…
The spectator sights
Dressing up is a big thing on the London Marathon. It’s a huge charity event, and thousands of runners raise amazing amounts of cash by completing the 26.2 miles in all manner of outlandish costumes.
The Houston Marathon couldn’t possibly live up to such fancy dress action, and it didn’t – at least among the runners. While there was some fancy dress action going on, it was on a far smaller scale (at least where I was running). But, bizarrely, what particularly stuck with me was the number of spectators wearing fancy dress. It seemed a pretty big thing, and it certainly wasn’t a trend I noticed in London (although I possibly missed it among the wall of people).
There were dancing Elvis impersonators. There were people dressed up as dinosaurs. I’m pretty sure I remember people randomly dressed up as two parts of a sandwich, for reasons I’m still not entirely clear about.
Plenty of the companies with shops and restaurants along the route also got involved. There was actual Ronald McDonald (outside a McDonald’s, obviously). The Chick fil-A cows were dancing along with a charity group. There were more, but I can’t recall them now. But to anyone who was dressed up and cheering on runners during the marathon: thanks. It really did make a difference.
The signs
Aaah, the signs. There were lots of signs. At the expo, event sponsor Chevron was giving out big card signs with ‘go!’ written on and a space to write a message underneath. I saw hundreds of them on the course, many made out to the friends or family of spectators.
Some of the spectators without a proverbial horse in the race settled for ‘go random stranger’. At one point I even managed to shout ‘that’s me’s!’ to someone holding up such a sign. She just stared at me like I was a bit odd.
There were also plenty of homemade signs, stretching from the humorous to the crude and a little bit rude. I spotted some slogans multiple times, others were very much one-offs. The Houston Chronicle has done a gallery of some signs here, but these are some examples I can recall:
You’re almost halfway there! [This was being held up about two miles into the course. Who says Americans don’t get irony?]
I bet you need to pee right now!
You’re beating all the runners behind you!
Remeber, you paid to do this! [This once was a bit cruel, so I left in the typo I spotted. Hey, I’m a professional editor, you can’t expect me to stop subbing when I’m running…]
May the course be with you [Star Wars puns never go out of fashion]
Worst parade ever!
I trained for months to hold this sign
If a marathon was easy, it would be called your mother [Yup, I did say they weren’t all classy…]
Hit this sign for star power!
I saw multiple versions of the latter being held out by various people – but I only had the opportunity to actually reach out and hit one. It was such a well-constructed sign that it actually hurt quite a bit. More notable was that the boy holding it called out a number to his mum – around 100 or so, if my memory is right. Given that this was after the half marathon split and I finished 265th in the marathon, that’s a mightily impressive interaction rate (well, assuming his counting and my memory were accurate…).
As with the fancy dress, some of the companies with shops and restaurants got in the spirit of things when it came to signage as well. Bike Barn on Wesleyan Plaza (close to where the guy was waggling a donut on a stick) really got into the spirit of things, sticking signage up for several hundred metres of the route. With messages such as ‘If you had a bike, 26.2 miles would only take 90 minutes’ they weren’t exactly pro-running, but they did make me laugh.
Another sign that made me laugh was the bar sign outside a bar on Washington Avenue: ‘Liberty Station loves chafed nipples’.
But, if you’ll forgive me for a rare touch of sentimental sincerity, there’s one marathon sign I’ll remember more than all the others: the one my eight-year-old niece made for me. I didn’t see it on the course – my brother ran the half marathon and finished around half-an-hour before me, so my niece was busy congratulating him when I crossed the line. But the thought was there, and my ‘go! Jimbo’ sign (yup, my niece calls me Uncle Jimbo – it’s a long story…) not only survived the flight back to Britain, but is something I’ll treasure.
Coming soon: Houston Marathon sounds and smells (yes, smells…)
Houston Marathon reflections, part one: first impressions
The intersection of Congress Avenue and Austin Street isn’t exactly the most salubrious part of downtown Houston, especially at just after six am on a Sunday morning.
On one side of the street is the Harris County Civil Courthouse; every other business on the block feeds off it. There are car parks offering discount parking to jurors, the sort of small law firm offices you imagine seeing in noir detective films, and all manner of bail bond firms. The brightest light at this intersection is bright, red and spells out ‘BAIL BONDS’. It glows in the window of Action Bail Bonds, just underneath a big red banner standing in for proper signage. In short, they’re the sort of businesses you hope you’re never going to need.
Staring at that stark red light in the early morning twilight, it was hard not to contrast the scene with the space and splendour of Greenwich Park in south London. A strange comparison, no doubt, but it came to mind as I questioned whether the 2017 Chevron Houston Marathon I was about to embark on could possibly match the splendour, majesty and experience of running the 2016 Virgin Money London Marathon.
I shouldn’t have worried. The line of businesses that lined the A Corral might have played to the stereotype of Houston as a vast, sprawling, dirty, automobile-filled city built on the back of Big Oil money, but it simply created a false impression.
The 2017 Chevron Houston Marathon was a slickly organised, well-run affair on a course lined with friendly and cheerful volunteers and spectators. The crowd wasn’t as large as London, but they made up for that with enthusiastic and vocal support that showcased the very best of Texan hospitality. And while the course could never hope to match the iconic locations and landmarks that dotted the London course, it firmly showcased that Houston is a vast, varied and vibrant city.
Even the bail bond-lined start corral made perfect sense, in the context of making life easy for the runners. The start line was a block further up Congress Avenue, beside the lovely Court of Appeals building. The A Corral fed back down Congress towards Minute Maid Park – home of the Houston Astros – with the B, C, D and E corrals stretching down consecutive cross streets. When the A Corral cleared, the B runners were fed into the start zone, and so on.
The corrals were placed so the entrance to all five was within a short walk of the George R Brown Convention Center, which doubled as the race HQ and housed the pre-race meeting area and post-race recovery zone.
The start was placed to take runners out of the downtown area on Washington Avenue, which is now home to the sort of fun-looking bars and restaurants that I’m not sure I’m trendy enough to visit. Even at just after seven am, this part of the course was lined with cheering spectators, who waved banners, jiggled cow bells and wore fancy dress. Across the course of 26.2 miles, I reckon I saw more spectators in fancy dress than I did runners. They cheered for friends, family and strangers. Most runners had their names on their race bibs, and the spectators weren’t shy at shouting them.
“Come on James!”
“You got this, James! You can do this!”
“Looking strong, James!”
I’m not sure I was looking strong – my head-wobbling, lolloping running-style rarely looks strong – but it was a huge boost to have so much support. As with the London Marathon, I found myself almost compelled to interact with the spectators: waving or shouting thanks, detouring to the road side to dispense high fives to kids, trying to remember all the signs people were waving. And I found it more fun: unlike the wall of noise and people on the London course, I could pick out the signs, and hear individual people shouting. It somehow felt more human. It was smaller… and in a very good way.
That said, smaller doesn’t necessarily make it easier to remember everything. As with London, my memories of the Houston Marathon are still a mess of little details and moments. So, rather than ramble uncontrollably for another 26 miles or so – especially since I’m writing this in the hours after getting off an overnight transatlantic flight – I’m going to stop here for now. I’ll write more about the moments and memories, and how my race went (spoiler alert: quite well!), in the coming days. In other words…
Read part two of my Houston Marathon reflections, on the sights and signs from the race, here.
Houston Marathon: done.
A short update this. Basically, just to say that it’s all over. Marathon number two: done. And the 2017 Chevron Houston Marathon went about as well as I could have hoped.
If you read any of my previous posts, you’ll know that the weather was my biggest concern in the lead-up to the race. And while it wasn’t out and out hot, Houston was shrouded under a murky fog that trapped in high levels of humidity. It was the sort of sticky, warm and humid weather that even had some Texans I talked to concerned about running – so as a Brit who’d done most of my long-distance training in somewhat colder conditions it was a major worry.
But I kept in control, stuck to my pace plan and took advantage of the plentiful drink stations, and the occasional wet towels and sponges being handed out. I did fade a bit towards the end, but that was as much to do with fatigue in my legs as it was the heat – and I didn’t fade anywhere near as dramatically as I did on last year’s London Marathon.
The end result was a finish time of 3h 16m 40s – enough for 265th out of 7109 finishers and, more importantly, a good chunk faster than my 3h 28m 17s time on last year’s London Marathon. Unfortunately, I failed to find the DICK’S Sporting Goods PR Bell in the post-race zone, so I was unable to ring it.
3h16m40s. I am sweaty. But very happy. #HouMarathon pic.twitter.com/k8VaFURWA1
— James Attwood (@Atters_J) January 15, 2017
Perhaps more important than the time was the fact that, apart from a very slight wobble when the legs really began to ache with just under three miles to go, I enjoyed myself throughout. That was a different experience from London, when I spent much of the latter part of the event genuinely not really enjoying myself (until the glow of post-race satisfaction arrived).
The two events were very different events, of course but, as it was after the London Marathon, my mind is currently a blur of sights, sounds, smells and sensations from my 26.2-mile jaunt around the streets of Houston.
That’s why this is a short update: it’s going to take a bit of time for me to process the memories into coherent word-based form. But I will say this: it was a great event – slickly organised and well-run, with the course lined with enthusiastic spectators, volunteers, police and support staff. If you’ve ever had a hankering to do a marathon in Texas, I’d thoroughly recommend it.
And, coincidentally, early entries for 2018 have already opened. I’m tempted – and it’s scary to think that on the day of marathon number two I’m even contemplating the prospect of doing a third…
Houston Marathon countdown: Let’s go expo
I’ve mentioned this before, but it bears repeating: for a mass participation event, running a marathon is a lonely pursuit.
That sounds contradictory, until you consider that preparing for a marathon involves month of training, preparation and planning – which you’ll largely be doing by yourself. It’s only when race week arrives that running a marathon turns from an individual exercise into a large shared experience. And the event that kicks off race week for most marathons is the pre-event expo. Walking into the 2016 London Marathon expo to collect my race number was the moment where I fully grasped quite how big the event I’d signed up for was. Walking round an exhibition hall buzzing with the anticipation and nervous excitement of a mass of would-be marathon runners made me realise that I was just one runner among many, one small story of an epic tale.
If my experience of the London Marathon expo lessened the surprise element of attending the Houston Marathon expo – sorry, the Memorial Hermann IRONMAN Sports Exercise Institute EXPO, to give it the correct, on-brand name – the event still provided a big injection of excitement and energy ahead of Sunday’s race.
The Houston expo was a slightly smaller affair than London – which figures, given there are fewer runners in the event – but it also felt a bit more relaxed and less overwhelming. It was a fun place to wander round.
Actually, having stayed in downtown Houston close to the race HQ in order to be close to the expo, it was great to see how the city is embracing the marathon. There was loads of signage up for it on lampposts downtown, and plenty of hotels and businesses had marathon signage up to. A nice touch.
The basic elements were the same – race registration and packet pick-up desk, an event merchandise stand, sponsor stands with random freebies and a bunch of stalls from running groups, shops, events and purveyors of assorted products. But there were also some further examples of the differences in running culture in the UK and America.
For starters, as with other American races, the Houston Marathon features a T-shirt that’s given to you pre-event. British races, including the London Marathon, generally only offer finisher’s shirts. Although it’s worth noting that the Houston Marathon also features finisher’s shirts – so every runner who completes the course gets TWO T-shirts.
Well, I’ve got three, if you count the ‘in training’ top my brother bought me for a present a few months back. And, actually, I’ve now got four, since I couldn’t resist buying one of the classy official shirts at the Expo. Is four T-shirts for one event excessive? Probably, but that’s for British Airways to decide when they weigh my suitcase at check-in on the flight home…
There were also plenty of freebies to pick up, which could also cause trouble for the BA scales. Some of the corporate-badged freebies were similar to those on offer in the UK – such as fridge magnets, stickers and those inflatable ‘bang bang’ sticks (my niece and nephew will doubtless ensure they don’t survive to join me on the flight back to Britain).
But some of the freebies aren’t so common in Britain: half-marathon sponsor Aramco was handing out bandanas with the 13.1-mile race route on them. And capes (which, again, my niece and nephew are likely to be taking off my hands very soon). And Skechers was offering free dog tags and cow bells (I’m almost scared to contemplate the wall of noise my niece and nephew will generate with the latter…).
There were plenty of other nice touches at the Expo, including a wall that featured the name of every runner in the event. Since it was in alphabetical order, it was a nice touch to find me and my brother (who got me into this mess, then chickened out and switched to the half) right next to each other.
There was also a great collection showcasing every event T-Shirt offered by race organisers.
And there were also plenty of adverts highlighting a photo opportunity to ring the ‘PR’ bell if you set a new Personal Record (or Personal Best, if you’re British) on the event. The bell is sponsored by a sporting goods chain, which caused the very immature Brit in me to chuckle.
This is a lovely touch for #HouMarathon. Hoping I’ll get to ring the Dick’s PR bell. But, also, snigger. pic.twitter.com/a8bC4ZmyJ7
— James Attwood (@Atters_J) January 13, 2017
The most important thing to pick up, of course, was my race number – A1960. The timing chip is already on the back of the number, safety pins were included with my pack and, basically, I’m now all ready to go.
The one note of concern coming out of the expo was based around a familiar theme: the weather. While having breakfast this morning, I received an email from the organisers issuing a ‘yellow’ weather advisory. The headline: ‘Organizers urge runners to slow down and adjust pace for Sunday’s race’. That was a worry – backed up by a big, yellow warning flag in the expo hall.
The forecast is now for temperatures to exceed 74 degrees Fahrenheit (around 23C) on race day. More worrying is that humidity is expected to exceed 90 per cent. The Houston Half Marathon taught me about running in high humidity, and it’s not all that pleasant. It could well cause issues, especially for a Brit who isn’t used to running in such temperatures on a regular basis. Oh, and given my struggles to collect drinks from paper cups.
Wandering around Houston this morning you could definitely feel the humidity, even though a thick fog doused the city early on. It was a reminder that you don’t need direct sun to feel the heat out here.
The weather warning also highlighted one more cultural difference between running in Texas and Britain. One board in the expo highlighted the ‘event alert system table’, which lists the various warnings the organisers might issue for various conditions. The yellow warning – in effect for this weekend – is labelled moderate. But the bit that made me chuckle was at the bottom: the ‘<50F Cold Weather Alert.’
So anything under 50 degrees Fahrenheit is classed as cold weather worth issuing a cold weather warning for. 50 Fahrenheit? That’s 10 degrees Celsius. That’s… positively mild compared to the English winter in which I did much of my training… And, frankly, I’d probably take icy cold conditions over 90 per cent humidity.
But, hey, you can only run in the conditions you have, and all that. And this is Texas, where the weather is bonkers and the forecast seems prone to changing by the hour. All I can do is rest up and see what things look like on Sunday morning…
Houston Marathon countdown: final training run done (with extra bracing sea breeze)
With three days to go until the Chevron Houston Marathon, I did my final proper training run this morning (I’ll likely have a ‘shakedown’ outing the day before the race, but that’s purely to get my legs moving).
So far, my marathon training programme has taken me to some varied locations. I’ve tackled busy city half-marathons on the streets of Bristol, in the south west of England, and Houston, Texas. I’ve set a new 10k PB around Castle Combe Race Circuit in Wiltshire, and scored a first class win on the roads near Sam Houston Race Park in Texas. I’ve done long training runs on the seafront and country lanes of my hometown of Clevedon in Somerset, and also while dodging deer around Richmond Park near my home in greater London.
So it almost seemed fitting to do my final training run in a new location: along the seawall of Galveston, Texas. Well, why not?
The opportunity arose to spend a few days away from my brother’s place during my extended holiday/family visit/marathon-running trip to Texas, and hitting the coast seemed a great plan. So we decamped for a night to a seafront hotel on Galveston, the historic island and city on the Gulf Coast south of Houston.
That meant I could go for a morning run along the seawall, which is pretty much the perfect place for a final marathon training run. Why? Because it’s flat, wide and straight. In other words, as long as you can trust yourself not to run in a straight line, there’s very little risk of hitting, tripping or injuring yourself. And that’s what you want in a final training run, really.
The weather (yes, I’m already writing about the weather again…) helped: it was a beautiful warm morning, with clear blue skies. Well, apart from one thing: there was quite the sea breeze coming in from the Gulf of Mexico. It wasn’t the sort of crosswind that really causes problems while running – in fact, it helped keep me cool in the Texan warmth – but it did hamper long-range visibility a bit, with a haze of sea water being blown across the seawall.
Still, it was a lovely place for a run – and definitely warmer than the last time I ran along a seawall, when I went for a short run in the days after Christmas while visiting my dad in Burnham-on-Sea. There’s plenty to recommend the Somerset coast as a tourist destination, but I can attest that the Gulf of Mexico in mid-January is far more pleasant than the Bristol Channel in late December…
After a morning and lunch in Galveston (I opted for a turkey chilli with corn cake and rice, which ticked a lot of pre-run marathon dining boxes), we headed back inland to Houston for one more night away from the family. So now I’m staying downtown, within walking distance of the Convention Centre that will host the Houston Marathon expo tomorrow.
A late afternoon walk was a great chance for an early sample of the build-up for the big race. And the drive in even featured a course preview – the road to our hotel took us along the final stretch of the marathon route. There was even a late detour because the road we tried to drive along was actually shut due to the finish arch being built on it…
Visualisation is apparently good marathon prep. I already feel I can see the finish of @HoustonMarathon… pic.twitter.com/iheyRlliT7
— James Attwood (@Atters_J) January 12, 2017
While that caused an unplanned detour, at least it means I’ve seen the finish line now. It’s going to be a lot harder to get to on Sunday when I won’t see it until I’ve done 26.2 miles of running…
Heating up in Texas: a Houston Marathon weather update
Yes, I’m writing about the weather again. Look, I’m British, it’s what we do. We talk about the weather. Especially when a) the weather is really very odd, as it frequently seems to be in Texas, and b) my experience on the Houston Marathon will be largely dependent on the conditions I’ll encounter on the course.
When last I wrote about the weather, Texas was proving surprisingly cold, and I was wrapping up as warm as I possible could for training runs in temperatures of -3C. Well, funny story… it’s now warm again.
On Sunday evening I went for a 10k jog in beautiful sunshine but with the temperatures barely above freezing – cold enough for me to break out The Hat I Can’t Throw Away.
On Tuesday morning, less than 48 hours later, I went for a gentle training jog at around eight am – and, despite cloud cover and very light rain, found myself running in around 17C heat and a surprisingly amount of humidity. Instead of freezing, I was sweating.
It was… confusing, to say the least.
Still, it was also useful, since – for what it’s worth, at any rate – the current forecast is for temperatures to feature daytime highs of around 25-27C (that’s about 77-80F) between now and Sunday, with overnight lows of around 15-16C (60-62F). Yes, those are overnight lows that are 15C warmer than it was in the middle of the day just four days ago. Like I said, Texas weather in January is bonkers.
Anyway, at least the conditions right now should approximate what the runners in the Houston Marathon will encounter on Sunday – although there is a greater chance of rain showers come the weekend. Showers wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing, as long as they don’t get too heavy, and there’s another current Texas weather condition worrying me a little more: the wind.
It’s been pretty gusty round here recently, with quite a breeze rolling in from the Gulf of Mexico. It’s creating the sort of potent gusts that occasionally cause your car to wobble when you’re driving down a highway. And while such a breeze can be quite cooling – useful on a marathon – it can also be really difficult if you end up caught running in a headwind.
Wind: good for flags, less so for running into
But hey, you can’t control the weather on race day, so when the time comes to start the marathon I can only run in the conditions that I find. But that won’t stop me being confused and slightly obsessed by the forecast.
After all, Texas weather in January is bonkers and unpredictable, and I’m British. Talking about the weather is what we do…
Dining dilemma: marathon training vs holiday eating
There are now only five days – FIVE DAYS! – until the Chevron Houston Marathon, which means I’m in full-on taper mode (and tapering is difficult…). Right now, I’m all about trying to rest up, to ensure I’m on full form for when the race starts at 0700hrs on Sunday morning.
At this point in the build-up to last year’s London Marathon, I became incredibly boring. Well, more boring than usual, at least. If you ask people who know me, plenty would likely suggest I’m pretty boring anyway.
My boring behaviour involved not going out much, limiting what I did and sticking to a fairly boring discipline of eating simple, straightforward food. On the Sunday before the marathon, I cooked up a huge vat of turkey Bolognaise, which I ate with pasta virtually every night that week. The Bolognaise itself wasn’t boring – I added in spinach and squash and all sorts of healthy veg, so it was designed to be ideal marathon build-up food. But having it every night for a week? Yeah, that got a little boring.
But, at least in the context of preparing for a marathon, boring is good. Boring is routine. Routine is important. To be on top form for a marathon I wanted to stick to a disciplined routine and a disciplined, controlled diet.
That’s proving difficult ahead of the Houston Marathon. Here’s the problem: I’m in another country, and the food in the Great State of Texas is quite different to what I cook up on the London Borough of Richmond-upon-Thames. It’s also really very good, and I don’t want to miss out on the local cuisine when I’m here. Have you tried real, proper Texan smoked beef brisket? If you have, you’ll know that nothing you can get in Britain that purports to be ‘Texan-style BBQ’ even comes close.
Another challenge: I’m also on holiday visiting family. That involves both eating out quite a bit and not bring in full control of exactly what I’m going to eat and when. All of which makes repeating my boring pre-London Marathon diet difficult.
It’s not really possible to be totally boring and disciplined in my dining and make the most of being on holiday.
After much internal debate on how to tackle this dilemma I settled on compromise. For the first week or so I was out here I ate largely what I wanted – albeit within reason. So I have had a few portions of lovely Texas smoked beef brisket, but I ordered lean brisket rather than fatty, and majored on the green beans and corn sides rather than a big dollop of gooey mac ’n’ cheese.
Another example: I headed from Houston up to Fort Worth for a few days on a family road trip. The hotel we were staying in provided a free breakfast, featuring some hot food, cereals, bagels, muffins and the like. On the first day I was disciplined and stuck to cereals and fruits. But then I noticed the breakfast buffet included a waffle maker – the sort you’ll find in lots of hotel breakfast buffets across America. Except the ones in Texas are frequently a little different, making it even harder to resist. And so, yes, I couldn’t resist…
…a waffle in the shape of the state of Texas. I mean, look at it. Look at it! How could I not? When life presents you with the chance to make a waffle in the shape of the state of Texas, it’s practically your duty to have one.
The compromise? I persuaded my mum to have half of it. So I sliced off East Texas, roughly from Corpus Christi up to the middle of the Panhandle, for her. Which left me with the rest of the Panhandle and West Texas to eat. And, may I say, El Paso was particularly crisp and tasty.
My compromise plan doesn’t seem to have had too many ill effects – heck, I only managed to win my class on a 10k race a few days into my trip after some BBQ! – but now I’m in the final stretch I’ve made a conscious effort to focus in on what I know.
So it’s cereal or porridge – sorry, oatmeal – for breakfast, along with some nice fresh fruit. And then I’ve been picking out relatively straightforward dishes that offer a good blend of all the things like carbs and protein and such that you’re supposed to eat before a marathon. And, as the event draws nearer, I’m moving away from what I want to eat, and focusing more and more on what I need to eat. Which, sadly, means a temporary break from the brisket.
But, that said, it doest mean a break from thinking about the brisket. After all, I’ve got the afternoon following the marathon and a few days afterwards to indulge in some well-earned post-race dining (which, as previously noted, I’ll end up feeling guilty about…). And I’m already beginning to picture what I might go for…
Atters Goes Running 