If I have to run ONE MORE STEP on this seawall.

Devin and I ran our first official half marathon in Galveston.  

 

13.1 miles of pure Texas beach goodness.  This was, of course, my brilliant idea which I mean quite literally, but later, when I start talking about wishing that pelican would come pick me up and feed me to Jaws, that's where I would apply that with a pinch of sarcasm.

Texas enjoys drastic temperature changes with each day.  So, unlike the weekend before, this race day called for a high of about 80 and sunny skies.  That sounds glorious to anyone not running 13 miles.

We woke up at 4:30am to get dressed and drive the hour drive to Galveston.  We both scarfed some peanut butter and honey toast and munched on cherrios on the way there.  With map in hand, I navigated (by that I mean sang ridiculous songs originating from the 'no one should be up at this hour' delirium) and I must say kudos to the Seawall Half staff for the excellent parking organization.  We headed into the Moody Gardens visitor center for packet pick up.  My shirt was too big.  The usual.

Devin pinned my race number the "right way" aka the "cycling way" which I will admit...is the right way.  It doesn't fall, it doesn't weigh on your clothes, and I look baller.  From there, we left everything in the car and got in line for the bus that would take us to the starting line.  We left everything there.  Even our water.  Because every race has water at the starting line.

We got to Stewart Beach as the sun came up- it was beautiful.  I headed to the bathroom line where a man walked up to me, rubbed my lower back, hugged me, looked me in the eye, and said something that rhymes with, "Oh shmeesus!" and he apologized.  A great way to get pumped for a race is NOT a hug from a strange man, but I was laughing.  He was so embarrassed.  Also, he was in line behind me later at the post-race party and the girl he was with looked NOTHING like me NOR did she have on the same colors as me.  I still do not understand.

Speaking of what I was wearing- I know that usually you're supposed to show what you wore for a race and be all matchy but I have yet to purchase or obtain any running clothes that match.  Also, my running sunglasses make me look extremely butch (Devin uses other choice words) and I look manly and unmatchy.  Stay tuned for race photos when I get them.  Exciting!!

When I came back from the bathroom, D and I warmed up and I decided, you know, I would love some water and maybe something to eat because it's been 3 hours since I ate peanut butter toast.  Let's find the water.  Except there was no water.  There were EIGHT fuel stops on a 13 mile run and not one single Dixie cup of water at the starting line.  Nothing to eat, no gels...nothing.

Dear Seawall Half staff, I blame you for what follows and also don't ever EVER depend on a race to have its act together and provide things they said they would.

We got in line with a pace group we thought we would hang well with about 15 minutes before the start...then the start time passed...and they would make announcements no one could understand on the muffled speaker...and then at 7:48, the race began.  Devin does not enjoy the weaving process of starting a race- I don't think anyone does, but we were out the gate fast trying to get away from the girl screaming WATER!!!! every time there was a puddle in the road.

The first 3.5-4 miles wound on a narrow road (little room for spreading out) through a neighborhood of Galveston- pretty houses, some fields, and not much to look at.  The race website had advertised live music throughout the course but I had yet to see..oh wait...there they are....2 men about my dad's age having a jam session to a song I know I knew but it didn't really...sound...right.  And I think I heard an F bomb and I'm all, "Dude.  family race, but also, it's too early for that".  Then on the way back from that loop, there was a guy/girl duo who had just finished what was probably their third song and uh I think they were taking a break?  I don't know.  Anyway, not much went on for the first part of the race, but, oh! at one point a ravenous creature leaped across the road RIGHT AT DEVIN.  I grabbed his arm and stopped him which resulted in me completely saving his life and him owing me all sorts of favors and chores.  Field mice are vicious.  I would like to thank Rhonda and Warrior Dash for teaching me to run while laughing and hurdling obstacles.

So by the time this super boring 4 miles was over, I was MORE than ready for some beach scenery.  But, like, not 7 miles of it. And also I was sort of thinking about getting some water.

7 miles of running down the Galveston seawall.  Did I mention it was 80 degrees?

Around mile 5 or 6, I was having some, um....digestion issues? and D's knee was hurting.  I stopped for the bathroom, we both stretched and got water, but I think we both knew that we wouldn't be able to catch up on our hydration.  We had not trained in weather this warm in weeks, we were sweating a LOT...it just wasn't going to happen.  We were half way and we were both like, "Wanna go get some breakfast instead?"  But we settled for some gels which is NOT the same as pancakes.

So, if you don't know this, a pretty good sign that you don't have enough water in you while you're running is you get abdominal cramps.  I'm not talking about the side stitch you get when you haven't worked out in a year and 8 months and you up and decide to run one Wednesday morning.  I am talking about full on cramping of the abdominal set of muscles- all the way across and it is so strong that it will bend you in half.

Let me interject here and say my core is so weak that that field mouse could have karate chopped me in the belly button and I would not have been able to protect Devin any more.  So, I learned from this race that I have to start doing core workouts if I am going to make it through this marathon.

Anyway, so I started getting those cramps at about mile, what D?  8 or 9?  I tried to stretch it, breath with my stomach, exhale quickly, all of the tricks and finally I told Devin "I can't run unless I run like this" [make a mental image of Steve Urkel walking with a sprained back.  What you can't make your own mental image?  I will provide one].

The crashing waves of the Gulf of Mexico, the beautiful white beaches, Devin, the brown one, and me the fluorescent one.  Got it?  Oh and Judo Mouse.

Anyway, so I'm like I can only run if I run like this, and Devin is all, "Uh, so run like that".  PROFOUND!!  I married an Aggie for a reason.  They're so dang smart.  So I ran like that off and on for miles.

At around mile 10, Devin was like, "I am waiting for the right turn off of this road".  Seriously.  The sun was beating on one side of us.  Devin got tanner, I produced more freckles.  On half of my face.

We finally turned off of the seawall and I knew the home stretch was coming soon.  When I had Moody Gardens in sight, it just got closer and closer and I knew we were so close.  But, what?  My watch said we still had a mile and a half to go.  Fine, whatever.  Little did I know, they would wind the finishing mile through some freaky version of Candyland with all of these Christmas lights covering weird cartoony shapes and this is about where I got goosebumps, which is never good if you are running in the heat, and then D said "Babe, the finish line is right there" and I sprinted and beat him.  I am lying.  That's a lie.  We finished together and we have never been happier to finish a run.  Except for the catch.  I finished the race and begged the boy scouts for a drink and they handed me some nastyface Gatorade recovery milk shake in a warm carton.  NO WATER AT THE FINISH!  At least on my side.  I threatened to rip that boy scout's "Tie a donkey to a tree using your teeth and a q-tip" badge off of his vest if he didn't find me water fast.

I love the scouts and all that they do.

We headed straight for the massage tent where there was a line but also a sign up sheet?  It was a mess but worth the wait.  We hoovered some BBQ, half a beer, some ice cream for D, and we were out of there.

Devin treated me to our favorite coffee spot in Galveston where we sat and talked about the worst run ever and how we can't do the marathon.

Jokes.

But seriously, pray for us.

We have 67 days.