It's an early morning drive south to visit my neighbors in San Antonio. I can find the Alamo, the RiverWalk, and the Mexican Market, but anything else and I'm lost. I get close to McAllister Park before I make my first mistake. I stop and ask for directions and then after another wrong turn, stop again. This time, I find it. I pick up my race number and retreat to my car to change and get ready. Shorts & a T, Montrails & Smartwool, a single hand bottle, and a small baggie of Succeed caps. I also have a small cooler with Red Bull, Gatorade, Coke, and Ensure. The 50K is new this year, so nobody knows for sure what the route is. Eventually a local points out where we cross over twice and a likely place to leave my small ice cooler.

Bill starts us at 6:30, leading us on his bike. I fall in with Mike Quinn and then Craig Robertson. The pace is a little fast, but I figure to navigate all the turns better with somebody who knows the park. Its pretty flat but twisted all over such that I have no idea where I am or which direction in no time. Trails cross over and switch about everywhere, with white powder lines over the closed ones and arrows pointing in the route direction. Pie plates are at some intersections with stuff written on them, but I can't read them in the early morning dusk with my lousy vision. I trust Craig. When the light gets better, I can finally read them and eventually decode what they mean. PP50K 1-3 is for the first 3 mile loop of the 50K only. PP1050 is for both the 50K and the 10 miler. The others are self explanatory, PP50 and PP10 are for the 50K or the 10 miler only. We do a 3 mile loop first I'm told, but would not have known. I did not read the directions, and have no excuse for not having a clue. As we pass my small cooler, we begin the first loop of two on the 14 mile loop. Craig and I pull up behind two others. Craig passes them but I do not. He is going too fast for me, so I let him go and stay behind my new companions. Much more comfortable now, I realize it's getting damn hot & humid. I am already soaked with sweat. McAllister Park is gorgeous with wild flowers filling the void between each copse of trees. The array of colors covers the spectrum. The trees are all of middle height, which seems normal for Texas, but stunted if you're from anywhere else. It is enough to keep you from seeing much further than the next bend only a few dozen yards away. I can only see or hear those who are very close. It an odd feeling, knowing many more are very near, in front and behind.

We are not walking any hills because there are none, and we are not stopping at any of the aid stations because we both have plenty of water, so we keep our steady pace and slowly pass the miles. Our trio visits for a few miles and then one slowly drifts back behind us. He is likely not back far, but with all the turns, we lose sight of him quickly. Glenn and I roll on, steady and even. I slow to pop 3 salt caps after an hour, and another three 45 minutes later. We pass nobody and nobody passes us. We are alone in a pocket between different groups. We ride an open ridge and see 4 or 5 people close behind us. It makes no difference as this is the speed we do. I suspect that some of them will pass us before long. There seems to be quite a few aid stations at irregular intervals, but they all seem to be used more than once. That and the different loops add to my confusion, so I lose track of how many there really are. As lost as I am, I never get off course for a moment, even though I do wonder quite a bit.

A long straightaway is under the San Antonio airport takeoff pattern, and we watch a large jet take off just over our heads. Quite a sight! The sound drowns the wilderness out for a few minutes and then the wilderness sounds comes back in loud and strong soon after. I had not noticed it before now. We go round soccer fields and behind homes, but mostly it is all trees and flowers. I must be dragging butt, because I have managed to kick more than my normal share of roots. It is amazing that I haven't gone down yet, but my toes are feeling a bit offended.

The first loop ends by my cooler, a photographer shooting shots as we pass through a rock wall. Glenn keeps on, but its time for my break and refuel, so I let him go. He never misses a beat and disappears quickly into the second loop. I sit down on a rock and have lunch. A can of Ensure, a few sips of coke, a half jug of Gatorade, and I walk out with my Red Bull in hand. My tummy is full, so I walk for a few and sip on the Red Bull. Three runners come up on me as I finish the drink and start running again just in front of them. I can hear them behind me but can't see them.

I get spun back up rather quickly and keep my distance for awhile, but eventually they catch me. I step off the trail to let Archie and Gene go by, and then hook onto them. But they are going faster than me, so I fall off and watch them fade. Minutes later, I catch and pass Glenn. And then I am with Archie, who has slowed. We run together for minutes then Archie moves quickly ahead of me. Archie and I cat & mouse it for a few miles and then I finally go past Archie completely near the takeoff strip. I am alone again, but I am not far from done, so I start getting the buzz going. My legs are talking to me about slowing while me heart is telling me to get this thing done. I speed up. I'm really cooking when I find my cooler again and an arrow pointing to the finish. I go faster and sprint into the finish.

There's a party going on right behind the finish. A few kegs on ice, fajitas on a slow cooker, coolers with sodas * beer under ice, and plenty of chairs under shade trees. I am loving this. I find a beer, a fajita, and then a chair. Life is really very very good.