Boston 2011

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Local Flavor

Jan 25th, 2011 - As much as I enjoy running in shorts and t-shirts in 60 degree weather, while my New England brethren chisel out their running sneakers, I do have some complaints about running in San Antonio.

My Tex-Mex lunch from Monday is still lingering somewhere in my GI tract and its made for some really bad "runs". I had to remind myself to stay within a mile of my hotel on my latest run to make sure I could take care of business, in a civilized manner, just in case Montezuma decided to exact revenge.

(from beyond the grave)

I remember when we went to the Tex-Mex place and the waitress said that even the locals ate here. I think what she meant by locals were the pigeons perching in the tree above our table, and the homeless guy battling with the pigeons for table scraps.

The food overall has been decent, but it's Texas, so if ain't meat, then it ain't edible. I've eaten more meat in the three days that I have been here then I have eaten in the first 26 days of the new year. My stomach feels like a meat grinder, and my body is probably more tired from processing my carnivore diet than from the 40+ miles I've put in.

The running routes haven't been much to write home about either (blogs don't count). Every inch of San Antonio is covered in either poured concrete or slate, which makes for a hell of a lot of pain for the joints. I would actually rather run on frozen asphalt up in Mass than...um, maybe not.

I thought I might have found some running reprieve from the concrete jungle of downtown SA when I stumbled upon a sign that read, Mission Trail ----->. I optimistically followed the concrete walkway into the park only to find out that the concrete walkway continued on for about four flat miles along the San Antonio river. This was the trail, and it definitely wasn't what I had in mind i.e. trails!! Ah, it's always great to be separated by a common language!

For the second half of my double today I decided to look for the longest and straightest road that extended away from downtown SA. I found it in East Commerce St and it suited my goals perfectly. It was wide, had light automobile traffic, and was scenic (I could actually see all three major highways and overpasses at one point!). The only problem was that it ended abruptly, due to road construction, at mile three of my planned ten mile run.

I discovered that this tends to happen a lot in SA. Roads, trails, and walkways ended abruptly without any warning. No traffic cop. No detour signs. It's like somebody was playing SimCity and ran out of funds to continue building the road. WTF?

So I turned around and continued on down Marting Luther King Jr Ave before turning onto an interesting looking side-street that contained the first hill that I'd seen out here.

And then there were the dogs.

After today, if anyone asks me where pit bulls come from, I will say without hesitation, San Antonio.

Every single house and shack (Disclaimer: I SHIT YOU NOT) on this three mile long side-street had AT LEAST one pit bull in their fenced-in yards (thank god). This either means San Antonians really love dogs or this is a good indication of the crime rate here.

(hey good lookin')

Even behind their weak looking enclosures, I was completely terrified that one of the Cujos was capable of jumping the fence and using me as a teaching tool for their little pups.

And then somebody let the dogs out. Who?

I have no idea, but HOLY SHIT! You read about this on the news every few weeks, a jogger getting mauled by a pack of dogs.

I would slow to a walk when I came upon these collarless, leashless, and worse of all, ownerless packs of pit bulls patrolling their neighborhoods. I couldn't believe what I was seeing since I come from an area where you get yelled at for not having your Yorkie-poo on a leash, let alone three or four pit bulls hanging out at the street corner waiting for the school bus.

And then Montezuma came looking for payment.

I didn't know if it was the Tex-Mex or the fact that I was being stalked by ravenous hounds, but whichever it was, I just knew I had to get back to the hotel, and fast! NO! Dogs. Slow down. But I have to really go! Poop in shorts or sport for pups?

I'll spare you the gory details and just say that it was a very long, slow, and shitty run by the time I got back to the hotel 11 miles later.

3 comments:

BadDawg said...

For the record, I'm laughing with you, not at you.

Jason Bui said...

Har Har!

Frank Georges said...

The thought of running on asphalt roads while being chased by dogs...makes me really want to stay in Massachusetts.

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