W. Keefe Borden

Austin Motorola Marathon

February 17, 2002

I wasn’t having too much fun as I entered the 21st mile of the Austin Motorola Marathon. By this point, the sun was high in the sky and I was struggling with the heat. I was annoyed that the crowd – whose support cheered me on early in the race -- was making too much noise at this point. Two minutes later, I grew annoyed again because they were too quiet. Mostly I was upset because I was in pain, my pace was slowing, and I felt my goal slipping out of reach.

I’ve danced around a four-hour marathon for more than two years. I came very close last year and was confident that, after a year of training, this would be my year. My training runs through the season were going well and I was confident I would make it when the race started. By mile 21, the bumps on the road were taking their toll on my body and I knew I would have to wait another year to break four hours. I also came to the conclusion that this was a ridiculous sport – running until you ache all over and want to collapse. Only idiots would do this, so I kept going.

I trotted into mile 23 and bumped into a one of my classmates who gave me water and encouragement. I ran and walked the last few miles in slightly better spirits – not because I felt any better, but because the end seemed within reach. When I did cross the line, I was still disappointed that I missed my goal by 10 1/2 minutes. I grabbed a bagel, a glass of orange juice, and found a shady spot under a tree near Town Lake.

I started thinking about the range of emotions that I had gone through that day. I awoke early and rushed to the starting point in north Austin. I remember trying to keep warm dressed in thin runner’s shorts and a trash bag before the race started. The starting horn sounded and thousands off us were off. A year of preparations and this was it. I struggled for the first few miles because it was so cold and I had no time to warm up or stretch out. After 45 minutes, I found a comfortable pace and went with the flow. The weather seemed perfect and I slid past the halfway mark in a record time. I was having a great time and was assured a strong finish. After mile 16 or 17, things fell apart. I clearly misjudged my own strength as a runner and started paying for my pace early in the race. 

I also couldn’t help thinking of all the experiences I had had as I prepared for this race. I recalled meeting with my training group every Saturday morning at Zilker Park to run through many of Austin’s most popular spots, including Mount Bonnell. We then cooled off in the waters of Barton Springs after those runs and talk about upcoming races and past challenges. The friendships I forged during those runs are very important to me.

Many of these friends are fellow students who are looking for a break from classes. Others I’ve met are married with families who run for reasons of their own. I thought about the fellow racers that I ran with that day and recalled their inspiration as they too struggled with their own pace. I also thought about the volunteers in the race who gave me water and encouragement at every mile. I especially recalled my parents, who drove into town this weekend to give me encouragement and a fruit smoothie every few miles. Clearly I could not have finished without their help.

I recalled all these things as I sat under that tree and realized that my life was truly blessed over the last year and it didn’t seem to matter that my legs were still cramping and I missed my goal after a year of training. More important were the experiences I had and the people I have met in that time. I’ll take some time off and start training again for next year.