Invigorated Malaise at the Bandera 50K

(From top to bottom)

1). Minutes before the start.

2). Follow the cairns and try not to trip!

3). Typical scruff and hills.

4). View from hill top with winding trail below.

5). Gorgeous flat section late in the race just begging to be hammered!

6). Finisher's medal well earned.

First, a side note...I ran the Bandera 50k in early January of 2006. I would love to run it again

--and it's simply a matter of making it a priority of money and time and will--in order to make that desire a reality. Of course, it's also a matter of whether my beat-up body will ever allow me to cover 50k again, but I remain hopeful and determined. If all goes well, it won't be long until these reminiscences will be replaced by race reports of freshly completed events. And so, Bandera...

The 2005 season was noteworthy for the fact I didn't race until late July, but then managed to cram in three trail marathons and three trail 50ks into the next five months. Bandera was the final race of this stretch, and in retrospect, I think I was a little physically drained. It also wasn't wise of me to position Bandera at the end of a nine-day trip to Texas with my wife, which included New Year's Eve on the Riverwalk in San Antonio, play time in the Hill Country, and beef--lots and lots of brisket and carne asada and brisket and carne asada--and brisket. Now, mind you, I'm not a beef guy, and for several years in my life even committed to being a vegetarian, but there's beef and then there's Texas beef--and I surrendered with giddy pleasure. And thus, my wife thinks my flagging later miles in the race were due to an overindulgence in brisket. And if she happens to be right, I must confess, the trade-off was justified--the brisket I devoured at the OST buffet in the quaint little town of Bandera was pure bliss.

The Bandera 50k is held in Hill Country State Park under the guidance of the very capable and accommodating Joe Prusaitis. By January, the rattlers have since hibernated at Hill Country, but keeping one eye on the ground is still a good idea since parts of the course are strewn with rocks. Joe even thought it might be fun to throw in a little off-trail trail--we followed rock cairns over a steep, rocky hill littered with smaller, you guessed it, rocks. There are trees in the park, some of them delightfully gnarly, but they provide little to no shade. The views from atop the many hills--MANY HILLS--are terrific. Being from the Midwest, and often immersed in dense forest, this was a rare delight. I'd never run anywhere quite like this before--huge expanses of scruffy, undulating terrain--and if you were careful, you could actually run and gaze out across the landscape. In short, the 50k single-loop course was tough and beautiful.

Temperatures were chilly at the start--low thirties--and quickly warmed to the upper seventies. I delight in running in warm weather, but I'm sure the unusual heat took as much of a toll on me as did the brisket and too many racing miles. After a vigorous first 13 miles or so, I faded quickly, much to my confusion, and slogged through the final 18 in a state of "invigorated malaise". Yes, that term pretty well describes the sheer joy and frustration of seeing a gorgeous piece of country present itself, just begging to be hammered, yet you are just too damn tired to muster anything more than a jog--or a walk. And so, you shake your head and chuckle, and resign yourself to enjoying the lovely surroundings, not wanting it to end but wanting it to end. When my race was all run and done some 7 1/2 hours later, I was surprised to have found myself finishing in the middle of the pack--which made me wonder how well I might have done had I been feeling strong. Now, you understand, my need to return.

And this time, I'll have brisket AFTER the race.