The Cowtown Half Marathon, or Getting Robbed by a Towing Company?
The half marathon in Fort Worth was a success.
My tentative goal was to run in just under 2 minutes. Not
having run a half marathon in a few years, I didn’t know what to expect. My training
this year has been all about slow running and fat adaption. I’ve written about it
a few times. The gains in heart rate have been minimal, so far I’m not
impressed with this zone 2 heart rate stuff. But that’s a topic for another
day.
I signed up with roughly a month to train. In my experience,
the 13.1 distance is very doable for most people. They might walk on the hills
and struggle with the last couple of miles, but unless they’re injured they aren’t
going to walk for long stretches. Training meant running at least 1 day per
week at a below 9 minute pace. The trick is to stay below 9 minutes for the
entirety of the race. I lost time going uphill and gained time going downhill.
But the average was a cool 8:57. Talk about close.
My overall time was 1:58:44.
I’ve had too many let downs on the full marathon. I needed a
successful half. I like going to Texas. My brother and his family live near Fort
Worth. Every run feels like a mini vacation. It’s why I’ll probably run the
Cowtown again. It’s a cold weather race in a state that’s not that cold. But
even Texas, like the rest of the country, was hit by the artic blast that pushed
its way down the middle part of the map. It started to lift on Friday afternoon
when I drove down there with my mom. We still had snow in Tulsa when I left. On
race day (Sunday) it was sunny and in the high thirties. Great jogging weather.
We were fortunate. Cowtown has been canceled before because of snow. It’s a
risk to start so early in the year, even in Texas.
There were close to 12,000 participants between the half and
full marathons. A large race but far from the nearly 20,000 that show up for
the Oklahoma City Marathon. I enjoy these big races more than the little ones. There
is something about being surrounded by people in pursuit of the same goal. At
least I think that’s it.
My brother Phillip and my nephew Christian came with me. I couldn’t
get to my starting gate at first. The throng of people standing between the
convention center and the corals, where the runners wait for the gun, was too thick
to move. The committee put the port-a-johns along the convention center wall which
meant lines of people waiting to use the toilet were in the way of people trying
to cross them going both ways. I had to push through by inching across the mass
of humanity. Finally I got close enough to the coral to hop over. Definitely not
the way the organizers drew it up. I wonder how many people didn’t make their
start time?
The second event of note wasn’t related to running at all.
My brother had taken the car to a midway point of the race so they could get a
video of me coming up the hill. I was grateful for that. It adds motivation
like you can’t believe. But afterwards he found a parking spot near the finish.
Unfortunately, it was in the lot of a CVS. They had a sign for towing. We walked
to the lot after the race to an empty slot. Standing close to us were another
pair of people that were in the same unfortunate situation. We split an Uber,
over to the towing yard, with another guy who’d run the half. The bill for the
trouble, a whopping $321 just to get my SUV out.
Clearly these guys were running a racket. They have a right
to have cars towed from their lot of course, but the prices were absurd. It
felt like they waited for these race days and large events for big paydays.
They attract people from out of town who don’t know the layout of the city very
well. The towing yard was tucked into a tough looking residential neighborhood.
It was a just a dumpy junkyard surrounded by high sheet metal barriers and
barbed wire at the top. This was sketch city. What’s more the people who worked
there knew it. The pay window had iron bars and a tinted glass window with one
of those bank slots for sliding cash underneath. You couldn’t see anyone behind
the glass but you could hear them as they asked for ID and credit card info.
God blesses me when I trust in Him. I’m trusting that my money
will come back to me in some form, because I was wronged for sure. I didn’t let
that ruin my day though. I hit my target pace and had a great run. As usual
after the race, my brother grilled ribeye steaks for everyone. It’s become a
tradition for me, the after race dinner. I’m just glad he’s doing the grilling.