Touring the island by foot

The fog got thicker and thicker the closer I got to the coast. There were stretches of the highway that were almost pitch black.

The morning dawned but still the sun hid behind the low lying clouds. A grey haze hung over the island.

The view toward the Cruise Ship Terminal across Harborside before the marathon.

On our first leg west along the seawall you could hear the crash of the waves and the rush of water - but you couldn't see it. As one runner said - it was like being in a Stephen King novel. But alas, the sun eventually burned off the fog and the temperatures began to climb. Back up the seawall to East Beach and Apffel Park. Then toward the Strand and the start of the second loop.

For 18 miles I kept on running. Then it was time to play the survival game. The next two hours may have seemed tedious, but running a minute and walking a minute brought me home with no distress. As the race dragged on, that 60 seconds of running was, at times, painful, but that 60 seconds of walking? I was living in the moment, baby, and loving it.

As opposed to the custerfluck that the Houston Marathon resembles for the first 9 miles, the Galveston Marathon was a relaxing run. A couple of hundred brave souls ran the full route as the marathon returned to the island after a 21 year hiatus. There were a few logistical problems - but for an inaugural race I thought the organizers did a fantastic job.

I'll be back.