Austin, you humid, hilly beast. Fresh off the Mississippi Blues Half, I hopped over to Austin, Texas, for another round of running fun (and suffering). Leading up to race day, the forecast teased another wet run, but the rain held off, leaving us with gray skies, mild temps, and a hearty serving of humidity — because Texas just has to remind you who’s boss.

Laura and I flew down with a small entourage of her friends who possess truly supernatural partying abilities. These people can drink all night, function on zero sleep, and still crush a 4-hour marathon. I, on the other hand, can barely function with sleep, so I happily settled for a couple of happy-hour drinks and a half marathon that could best be described as “enthusiastically mediocre.”

Race eve was pretty chill for me — expo exploring, dog park sightseeing, and a run-in with a jackalope. You know, the usual.

Photo op in front of the Welcome to Austin sign at the race expo Me riding the mighty jackalope at The Jackalope dive bar

Bigger (and Hillier) in Texas

Race morning greeted us with a layer of eerie fog hanging over downtown. We took off from historic Congress Avenue, crossing the Colorado River, and embarked on what was allegedly a new and improved course. I’m sure the full marathoners got a scenic treat, but the half? Meh. The first few miles were spent running straight down Congress Avenue, which, based on the scenery, seems to be the nation’s leading supplier of gas stations, McDonald’s, and auto parts stores. Seriously, why does one street need this many auto parts stores? Is Austin secretly the capital of spontaneous car breakdowns?

Thankfully, some cheerful spectators helped liven things up. A group of ladies in costumes and funny signs made me smile, but — get this — they had ZERO snacks. All hype, no execution. Disappointing.

Snack enthusiasts Spectators on drums Spectator signs

After what felt like an eternity on Congress, we finally made a turn — WOO, NEW TERRITORY UNLOCKED! But before I could celebrate, we turned again and started heading back north on 1st Street. By mile 6, we had done little more than bounce between two streets. The hills kept things interesting, though. Some were challenging, but miles 4-6 had some delightful downhills that gave my legs a temporary sense of hope.

Spooky downtown fog

Crossing back over the river, we turned onto W Cesar Chavez and got a nice stretch along the water before looping around a golf course and winding back into downtown. And then… mile 9 happened.

The Hills Have Hills

After those downhill and flat stretches, mile 9 smacked me right in the face with an unforgiving hill. My brain immediately disengaged from running mode and started wandering: Did I lock my car at the airport? Why is my pocket sticky? And just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, mile 12 came in with a truly monstrous hill. A sign warned us: “Yuge Hill Ahead.” They weren’t lying. The moment it came into view, the girl next to me gasped, “Oh F—,” then immediately apologized to the universe. No need to apologize, ma’am — we were all thinking it.

"This Hill is Your Bitch" sign Some encouraging words for conquering the beast hill

By that point, I was over the hills, the humidity, and my mysteriously sticky pocket. Finally, the finish line and state capitol emerged from the fog, and I wrapped things up with a triumphant shuffle across the line. The reward? A cowboy belt buckle medal, which I proudly posed with in front of the barely-visible capitol.

Half marathon medal

Post-Race Shenanigans

Laura and her marathon-partying crew finished strong, while I silently thanked past-me for not signing up for 26.2 miles of suffering. Post-race, we hit up the beer garden, where Laura looked…less than thrilled.

Unimpressed Laura

Some celebratory BBQ and beers rounded out the trip. I’d love to return to Austin someday to check out more museums and fun sights, but this visit? It was strictly business (if “business” means sweating through hills and questioning life choices). All in all, another state checked off, another adventure in the books. Austin, you were humid, hilly, and oddly obsessed with auto parts stores — but you sure were memorable.

Oh, and the pocket? Still sticky. No idea why.

Random Race-Day Musings

  • Something to Remember Her By – Laura tossed her Brooksie Way throwaway shirt pre-race, and someone tied it to a tree. Just like the classic song: Tie a Moisture-Wicking Shirt to the Ole Oak Tree. Beautiful.
  • Densely Pup-ulated – The course had a solid lineup of dog spectators, including three extremely enthusiastic corgis. 13/10, good cheer squad.
  • Familiar Face – I spotted a guy I had also seen at the Mississippi Blues Half. He looked exactly like Ben Franklin, so he was easy to recognize. Pretty sure he flew a kite mid-race to check for lightning.
  • Beefiest Aid Station – There were tons of runners in red Team Beef singlets, and they even had their own aid station where supporters chanted “BEEF! BEEF!” Sadly, no actual beef was handed out. What a missed opportunity.