Forget the Alamo. This race wasn’t my finest 4 hours and is perhaps best relegated to the Magic 8 Ball style “memory hazy… try again later.”
Today was the 186th anniversary of the fall of the Alamo. This year the event takes on greater significance with parallels made to the valiant Ukrainian stand against the Russian invaders. What a mess the world is.
Far smarter people will write histories of this time and place. Historians will provide analysis and insights I can only dream about. So I will leave only this comment – I stand with Ukraine but I feel helpless.
Setting aside that darkness, and recognizing that struggles in the world FAR outweigh my personal troubles running a marathon, I thought instead I’d give just a quick recap of my 24 hours in Texas… which is stretching to 26 thanks to Southwest delaying my flight home by slow 5 minute increments adding up to a cumulative 2 hour delay.
Things to do in San Antonio when you’re dead tired…
I had gotten up too early. Despite near constant travel, I never sleep particularly well the night before a flight. Truth be told I never sleep particularly well any night but the night before a flight I’m always worried I’ll sleep through my alarm. In any event, I had woken up 15 minutes before my alarm was set to go off and it seemed pointless to try and go back to sleep. That may have been a huge mistake as I was dragging most of the day.
Rarely I can sleep on a plane but on my flight from LAX to SAT, I had a window and found my eyelids drooping, my head bobbing, and my consciousness, um, Un-ing? Unfortunately these two guys seated next to me were swapping “war stories” over contracts with local water departments. It was like Glengarry Glen Ross meets Chinatown if it had been written by Robert James Waller.
So, not much sleep there. Anytime I drifted off, one guy would laugh uproariously over a water mains joke.
Arriving in San Antonio, I was able to bypass the long line at the rental car and walk straight to my vehicle.
Pro tip – sign up for EVERY rental car company’s frequent/preferred customer program. They’re free … and they mean you don’t have to be stuck in a queue that stretches past all stanchions.
Pro tip 2: If you find yourself near a Chevy Trax compact SUV with a Florida Plate of QMMM94, the mobile wifi pass code is this:
Cars with wifi ssids. The future is now!
I drove downtown to pick up my race packet. They said there’d be an expo but I’m not sure a vendor selling truly ugly tie-dyed gear counts. I know this is Texas but I chose to continue wearing my mask indoors. I was the only one… the only one here, there, and pretty much everywhere. I did see one or two at the race start, but quite literally it was one or two in the masses.
This being San Antonio, I had to check out the Alamo. Despite massive construction projects closing roads all over town, the Alamo STILL hasn’t put in a basement. This giant hole is NOT going to hold Pee Wee’s bike.
In 1836, on March 6th, the Alamo fell, with heroes named Bowie, Crockett, and Travis fighting to the end. For the record, they weren’t this old. I suppose re-enactors *should* be cast age blind.
I’ve always been struck at the Alamo being just in the middle of the town. It’s a historical site that vies for tourists with the likes of crappy beach town mainstays like Ripley’s Believe it Or Not and Escape Rooms.
The famed fort offers free admission with timed ticket entry; I wasn’t up for hanging around so I opted for other tourist attractions in the area.
As longtime readers know, I’m a big fan of ROADSIDE AMERICA’s picks for kitschy, tourist trap “must sees” in cities and towns large and small across this great land of ours.
So here’s what I went to see:
1) CLASSMATES, a statue that gained internet infamy as depicting “Man-splaining.” The artist denies that was the intention. I sought it out on the campus of the Invocated Word (???). But despite my best efforts, I wasn’t able to find it. I even tried the lat/long coordinates on Google maps but it wasn’t there. I don’t know if it was removed due to its, um, meme-fame, or if I just was looking in the wrong place… but I did find THIS creepy statue. It’s only slightly less creepy when you realize their mascot is The Cardinal. So the bird man thing is, uh, collegiate.
2) Ah, yes… wooden nickels. While this may not be worth 5 cents, I’d argue it’s worth WAY more than that. So maybe I *should* accept it…
3) I really admire these boots. They’re tossed just outside a big shopping mall. When I first got there, a wedding party was snapping a photo popping champgne. I was glad not to be in those shoes.
4) My AIRBNB hosts are a band – the Lavens. I was met by Andreas and shown to the red Elvis room. Had a beer with him on the back porch. Fascinating and friendly guy.
5) I had asked for a local recommendation for dinner. Andreas raved about The Cove. The food’s good, there’s a live band on weekends, and it’s kinda an institution. I was blown away that it was a car wash, bar and grille, and laundromat in one. Guy Fieri featured it on the Food Network. Food was okay, Beatles cover band was fun. But again, no masks to be found… and I’m sad to say I gave into peer pressure and went without a mask for my visit.
As for the marathon on the morning of March 6 2022, well, I’ll tell ya… it’s a race more geared to half marathoners. They got better shirts and better medals:
The course had too many curliqueues with out and back spokes leading to turn around that very easily could have been cut by Rosie Ruizes. It was all very much on the honor system as the only timing mats I saw were at the start, at mile 6.2 for the half marathon relay switch, and the finish.
I’ve been feeling the dual weight of time and a middle-age paunch lately; I struggled through the day. So much in fact that I’m thinking I may take the next week off entirely from running to try and reset a few things. That’s not always great mentally… and the spare tire and love handles imply I should run MORE not less… but it felt like it might be time for a rest.
We will see what develops… and, man, what a segue that would make if I shot these photos on film. “Speaking of what develops….” Alas, the future is now and nowadays few know or remember waiting for days or weeks to have prints come back to the PhotoHut.
In the end, I finished the race before it finished me… but not by much!
Never surrender, as they say…