ALBUQUERQUE FIESTA MARATHON 2026 — TRICK OR TREAT? MY SHOE ATE MY FOOT!

November 1, 2026 — Albuquerque, New Mexico

My 130th Marathon | 8th Marathon of 2026 | Finish Time: 5:16:28

You would think that after running 129 marathons since 2008, I would have figured out a few things about running 26.2 miles. Things like what shoes to wear, which socks actually work, and why you shouldn’t make stupid decisions before a race that could come back to haunt you somewhere around mile three.

Apparently, I’m still learning—or, as my wife Becky would say, “You’re just stupid.”

Welcome to my 130th marathon, the Albuquerque Fiesta Marathon, where I managed to turn a perfectly good Sunday morning into a five-hour adventure involving a bloody heel, three disappearing Band-Aids, a roadside medical intervention, and a pair of yellow Saucony running shoes that should have been retired months ago.

The funny part? Despite everything that went wrong, I actually beat my Boulderthon marathon time from the previous month by almost six minutes! Sometimes you have to take whatever victories you can get, especially when you’re the person responsible for creating most of your own problems.

So, here’s how the Lone Lobo managed to survive another 26.2-mile jog through Albuquerque, New Mexico, the day after Halloween. Trust me, the trick-or-treating wasn’t quite over.

🐺 THE LONE LOBO GOES RUNNING

Originally, Becky and our friend Daniel were supposed to run this race with me. Unfortunately, Boulderthon had other plans for our little running crew. Becky broke her foot the day after finishing her half-marathon, and Daniel injured his leg running the marathon. So, the Albuquerque Fiesta Half Marathon was out for Becky, Daniel decided to sit this one out, and that left yours truly as the only member of our small crew of running misfits heading to the starting line.

We stayed at Becky’s mom’s house in Rio Rancho, which is close to an hour from downtown Albuquerque. Since Becky had volunteered to work the baggage drop, we needed to arrive before 6:00 AM. That meant getting up around 4:30 in the morning, making a Starbucks run in Bernalillo for Becky to grab her chai latte, and heading downtown before most normal people were even thinking about waking up on a Sunday morning.

Everything was going according to plan until I had to decide which shoes to wear.

I brought two pairs with me: my zero-drop Altras and a pair of worn-out yellow Sauconys. Now, the last time I wore those particular Sauconys for a marathon, I told myself I wasn’t going to wear them again. They had developed a hole in the back of the left heel, and the damaged material rubbed against my foot. You would think that would be enough information to make an intelligent decision about footwear.

But I’ve been having some chronic Achilles pain lately, so I decided the Sauconys might be a better choice than the zero-drop Altras sitting in the back of the vehicle. I grabbed the yellow shoes and figured everything would be fine.

BIG MISTAKE! HUGE!

Remember, this was the day after Halloween, and apparently I was about to receive my own little trick bag. Unfortunately, choosing the wrong shoes wasn’t my only bad decision.

🧦 THE RETURN OF THE GALVESTON TOE SOCKS

If you remember my Galveston marathon story, you’ll recall that I decided to experiment with toe socks while running in sandals. That didn’t work out particularly well, and I probably should have thrown those socks away after that race. But I didn’t, because apparently I enjoy repeating the same mistakes just to make sure they were actually mistakes.

The Friday before the Albuquerque Fiesta Marathon, I wore those same toe socks with my Altras for a 10K training run. They felt pretty good, and my toes were footloose and fancy-free. So I figured, why not wear them again for the marathon?

Except this time, I decided to wear them with the yellow Sauconys. The shoes that already had a hole in the back of the heel. The shoes I had previously told myself never to wear again for a marathon. And here’s the really intelligent part: I hadn’t run a single mile wearing those particular shoes with those particular socks. What could go wrong?!

You would think somebody who built a website called Runner Freak and was about to run his 130th marathon would know better than to experiment with footwear on race day. Nope. I’m the guy who bought a pair of running sandals at the Expo for the Seattle Marathon back in June of 2014 and ran a 4:20:34 marathon because I bet my friend Mark a dollar that I could do it. I had never run a mile in a pair of running sandals in my life. Apparently, experience doesn’t always translate into common sense, especially at five o’clock in the morning.

🏃 SOME REAL RUNNER FREAKS AT THE STARTING LINE

Now back to this crazy race. We arrived downtown, walked toward the start line, and I dropped Becky off at the baggage area where she was volunteering. She ended up spending time with another Runner Freak from Los Angeles who had completed more than 300 marathons. I think he said 315 or 336, but honestly, at that point, who’s counting anymore?

That guy needs a spreadsheet! Actually, Becky manages my marathon spreadsheet, which is probably a good thing considering my questionable decision-making skills.

I headed into the Civic Center to stretch before the race and struck up a conversation with a woman who was visiting Albuquerque. She had lived there when she was younger and was returning to run her first marathon since undergoing back surgery about a year and a half earlier.

She told me that she had developed severe leg pain, and doctors eventually discovered that she had blown two discs in her spine and needed surgery. She had previously run around 30 marathons or something and had spent the past year and a half working her way back into running. Now she was planning to finish somewhere around 3:30, certainly under four hours.

That’s pretty impressive considering what she’d been through. Meanwhile, I was standing there with a pair of defective shoes and some socks that had already caused problems in another marathon. LOL!

That’s one of the things I love about running marathons. You meet some incredibly interesting people who have overcome all kinds of challenges. Some are fast, some are slow, some have amazing stories, and some are just plain crazy. Which probably explains why I fit into the Runner Freak community so well.

🎉 A SMALL RACE WITH BIG-RACE TREATMENT

Ironically, the New York City Marathon was taking place on the same day as the Albuquerque Fiesta Marathon. Becky and I ran New York back on November 4, 2018, and if you’ve ever experienced that race, you know it’s an enormous production with a ridiculous number of runners.

Albuquerque was a little different. According to the race numbers I saw, 236 marathoners started and 229 finished. That’s not even a wave at New York City! But what the Albuquerque Fiesta lacked in size, it certainly made up for in organization.

I want to give a special shout-out to Elizabeth, the Race Director, because she put together a great event. This was only the second year of the Albuquerque Fiesta race, but you would think she was trying to put on the New York City Marathon in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

There were well-stocked aid stations along the course, and On, the running shoe company known for its Cloud shoes, was one of the sponsors. Everyone received a nice long-sleeve shirt, a hat, sunglasses, a stuffed animal, a race bag, and a really cool finisher medal. We even received free race photos, which Elizabeth mentioned to Becky had been a tremendous amount of work to arrange.

For a smaller marathon, that was an impressive collection of race goodies. The volunteers were terrific, the organization was solid, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. I certainly appreciated all the effort that went into making the race a success.

Looking back, maybe I should have gotten myself a pair of those On Cloud shoes before the race. Any shoe would have been better than what I was wearing!

💀 THE RACE BEGINS — AND SO DOES MY FOOTWEAR NIGHTMARE

The marathon started promptly at 7:00 AM without a lot of fanfare. Our DJ was dressed in a colorful Día de los Muertos-style outfit, looking like he’d come straight out of a Halloween celebration. He told everyone to line up, gave us the traditional “On your mark, get set, go!” and we were off to the races.

I’d run the Albuquerque Fiesta Marathon the previous year, but since I’d also completed the Duke City Marathon and the older Albuquerque Marathon, the courses were starting to blend together in my memory. It didn’t take long for this particular course to come back to me as we headed toward the Bosque trail.

Unfortunately, something else started getting my attention almost immediately. By approximately mile three, I could feel those wonderful toe socks rubbing against the back of my left heel. I knew exactly what was happening, and it wasn’t good.

A blister was forming.

I tried to ignore it for a couple of miles, hoping the rubbing would somehow stop. You know how that goes when you’re running a marathon. You convince yourself that maybe the problem will disappear if you just keep moving. Unfortunately, by around mile five, I couldn’t take it anymore.

I pulled over at a bench along the Bosque trail, sat down, removed my shoes, and took off the toe socks. I figured running without socks had to be better than continuing with the ones that were tearing away at my heel.

Of course, that meant I was now running without socks in a pair of Sauconys that already had a hole in the back of the heel. Looking back, that probably made the situation even worse.

I had managed to turn one stupid decision into two stupid decisions, and I still had more than twenty miles to go. Wonderful!

🩸 THREE BAND-AIDS AND A ROADSIDE MEDICAL EMERGENCY

By the time I reached another aid station somewhere around mile six or seven, my heel was bleeding. That’s when I met another Runner Freak named Juan, who noticed what was happening and suggested I get a Band-Aid.

Now there’s an intelligent idea! Why hadn’t I thought of that? I actually didn’t and that’s what makes it even more funny.

Band-Aids? “I don’t need no stinking Band-Aids!”

Juan helped me get a couple of Band-Aids from the aid station, and I stopped long enough to put them on my heel. I slipped my shoe back on and started running again, figuring I’d finally solved the problem. Unfortunately, within about a mile, both Band-Aids had worked themselves loose and disappeared somewhere inside my shoe.

A few miles later, somewhere around mile nine or eleven, I was running along when some people in a truck flagged me down. They told me Juan had mentioned that I needed some gauze or a Band-Aid and asked if they could help.

How cool is that? Here’s another runner I had just met, and he’s looking out for me along the course.

I climbed into the back of their truck, and they tried to doctor up my heel with some gauze and medical tape. Unfortunately, the tape was old and wasn’t sticking particularly well, so the whole operation was turning into another exercise in frustration. After about six minutes, I finally told them it was fine, thanked them for trying, and said I’d see them on the way back.

I climbed out of the truck and continued running, still wearing the shoes that were causing the problem in the first place. At this point, my heel was raw, my shoe was rubbing, and I was beginning to wonder how many more miles I could tolerate this nonsense. I was getting tempted to just run barefoot, but figured I would have blisters on the bottom of my feet too, so I decided to stick with just one problem.

Later, I caught up with Juan again, and we spent some time running together. He was 69 years old, lived in Albuquerque, and had quite an impressive running history. He’d run Boston seven times and had completed numerous sub-three-hour marathons over the years. He’d also run the Duke City Half-Marathon just two weeks earlier and a 50K ultra the month before that.

The guy was a running machine!

Juan told me this was probably going to be his slowest marathon, which made two of us having a rough day. My heel had become so irritated that my foot was starting to feel numb, and I was just slogging my way through the course.

One of the interesting things Juan mentioned was that he now preferred running ultras because, as he explained in his Spanish accent, “There’s just no pressure like the marathon.”

I knew exactly what he meant. When you’re running a marathon, you’re constantly checking your watch, calculating your pace, watching the minutes slip away, and trying to figure out when you’re going to finish. With ultras, Juan enjoyed just moving along without feeling the same pressure to hit a particular time.

That sounded pretty appealing to me at that moment, especially since my main goal had become getting to the finish line so I could finally take off my shoes.

I did manage to get one more Band-Aid at another aid station, but that one lasted about a mile before it disappeared into my shoe too. Three Band-Aids down, a bloody heel, and still plenty of miles left to run. I finally accepted that I was going to finish this marathon with a damaged foot, and there wasn’t much I could do about it.

Sometimes you just have to accept your fate and keep moving.

🚧 COUNTING ROAD CONES AND CHANNELING FINDING NEMO

Eventually, somewhere around mile 18, I decided I needed to pick up the pace a little. Not because I suddenly felt great or thought I was going to set a personal record. I just wanted this nightmare of bad footwear decisions to come to an end.

I said goodbye to Juan and started playing mental games to keep myself moving. One of my favorites was counting road cones. I’d pick a cone ten or twenty cones ahead, jog until I reached it, then walk for a cone or two before starting again. It wasn’t exactly a sophisticated running strategy, but it gave me something to focus on besides the damage happening inside my left shoe.

That’s one thing I’ve learned from running marathons over the years. Sometimes the biggest challenge isn’t physical. It’s finding a way to convince your mind to keep moving when everything starts going wrong.

Of course, when you’re running along at a twelve-minute-mile pace with a bloody heel, your mind also starts wandering into some pretty ridiculous territory. I kept thinking about Galveston and how I should have thrown those toe socks away after that race. If I had, none of this would have happened. Well, maybe the shoes would still have caused problems, but at least I wouldn’t have added the socks to the equation.

Then I’d start doing marathon math in my head. I’d think, “Okay, I’m about three miles from mile 23, and at twelve minutes a mile, that’s about 36 minutes. Just keep moving.”

Pretty soon, I started sounding like Dory from Finding Nemo, telling herself to “Just keep swimming.”

Except I wasn’t swimming. I was running through Albuquerque with a bloody heel, wondering why I hadn’t listened to myself when I swore I’d never wear those shoes again.

Apparently, I have a very short memory when it comes to running gear. LOL!

My running friends and my wife can attest that I might actually be the worst guy to ever take running advice from.

🧟 CENTRAL AVENUE, ZOMBIES, AND THE FINISH LINE

Eventually, I reached miles 24 and 25, and I knew I was getting close. At that point, I wasn’t particularly interested in my finishing time anymore. I was thinking about how wonderful it was going to feel to sit down, pull off those Sauconys, and never put them on my feet again.

The course brought us down Central Avenue in downtown Albuquerque, which anyone familiar with the city knows can be an adventure all by itself. I passed a few real-life zombies wandering around the streets, although maybe they were just recovering from Halloween the night before. Either way, I was starting to feel like one of them myself.

I made it through downtown, rounded the corner, and headed toward the finish line. That’s when I spotted Becky standing there with her phone, taking a few pictures as I came toward the finish.

After more than five hours of running, walking, stopping for medical assistance, and questioning my footwear decisions, I finally crossed the finish line.

Marathon #130 — FINISHED!

Official Finish Time: 5:16:28

I collected my medal, found Becky, and couldn’t wait to get those shoes off my feet. Forget the post-race celebrations. Forget how cool the medal looked. At that moment, the only thing I wanted was to get my left heel out of that shoe!

Becky took a picture of the Sauconys, and I decided to take a couple more pictures showing exactly what had happened to my foot. I’ve included those photos toward the end of this Parking Spot, so if you have a weak stomach, you might want to skip the bloody-heel pictures. I also added a picture of a black widow spider that was hanging out near our front door the day after the marathon.

I thought it was a fitting Halloween character to include in this Parking Spot I created here, since my heel felt like I got bit by my shoe!

Consider them visual evidence of what happens when an experienced Runner Freak makes rookie mistakes before marathon number 130.

🏅 THE SILVER LINING — I BEAT MY BOULDERTHON TIME!

Here’s the really funny part about this entire adventure. Despite stopping multiple times to deal with my heel, climbing into the back of a truck for some roadside medical assistance, losing three Band-Aids inside my shoe, and spending most of the race wishing I’d chosen different footwear, I still managed to beat my Boulderthon finishing time. Those Sauconys pulled me through after all—lol. Well, maybe? More like my personal persistence, high pain tolerance, and the fact that the letters DNF are simply not in my vocabulary.

At Boulderthon, I finished in 5:22:12. At the Albuquerque Fiesta Marathon, I finished in 5:16:28.

That’s a difference of five minutes and forty-four seconds! Woohoo!

I’ll take that as a victory, especially considering all the nonsense that happened along the way. Sometimes you have to find a positive result in an otherwise miserable experience, and shaving almost six minutes off my previous marathon time certainly qualifies.

As for my foot, I’m spending the next few days walking around in flip-flops while my heel heals. I’ll probably go back to training in my running sandals for a while, or maybe stick with the Altras for my next few marathons.

I’ve decided I’d rather deal with some Achilles discomfort than have the back of my heel torn open during a 26.2-mile run. Although, considering how my decision-making has been going lately, I probably shouldn’t make any promises about what shoes I’ll be wearing next time.

The biggest lesson here is pretty obvious: Don’t wear shoes you already know are causing problems, and don’t experiment with a new shoe-and-sock combination on marathon day.

You would think I’d know that by now. Apparently, completing a bunch of marathons doesn’t make you immune to stupid decisions. It just gives you more opportunities to write entertaining stories about them.

📅 WHAT’S NEXT? MAYBE EIGHT MARATHONS IS ENOUGH FOR 2026!

Originally, I was thinking about heading over to Phoenix in December to run another marathon and finish out the year with nine, so that I could keep up with my pal Daniel. But after this latest adventure, I’m beginning to think that eight marathons in 2026 might be enough.

Maybe it’s time to give my body a nice eight-week break, let the heel recover, give the Achilles some rest, and start 2027 with a little more common sense. That would certainly be a novel approach to marathon training!

The next race on my calendar is the 47th State Las Cruces Marathon on January 9, 2027, right here in my hometown. And if you want to hear something really funny, the Race Director for that race, Shane of Wanderlust Running, lives across the street from us. Daniel is coming down from Colorado for that one too. After that, Becky and I are planning to run the El Paso Marathon in February, which will be a new one for me. We’ve also already booked San Diego again for June, so next year’s running adventures are starting to take shape.

At some point, I might even join Juan and start running ultras. His philosophy about taking the pressure off and just enjoying the miles sounds pretty appealing. Then again, maybe I’ll get smart and join Becky in running half-marathons instead. You know, 13.1 miles certainly sounds easier than 26.2, especially when your shoes are trying to eat your feet!

But who am I kidding? I’ve been running marathons since 2008, and despite all the bad races, sore muscles, ridiculous travel adventures, bloody blisters, and occasional moments of wondering why I keep doing this to myself, I still enjoy the challenge.

Maybe there’s something wrong with me. Or maybe, besides being The Sales Freak and The Cool Car Guy, I’m really just a Runner Freak.

Either way, marathon number 130 is officially in the books, and I’ve got another story to add to the collection here on this strange website I created for people like me to share their life experiences for seven bucks. Those stupid toe socks cost me more—lol.

🏅 WHY THIS STORY LIVES ON RUNNER FREAK

Some marathons are fast, some are slow, some are beautiful, and some are absolutely miserable. But every single marathon or other race you may have finished has a story, and sometimes the stories from the miserable ones are the most entertaining.

Sometimes it’s about the course, the scenery, or the people you meet along the way. Sometimes it’s about overcoming an injury, achieving a personal record, or helping another runner through a difficult moment. And sometimes it’s about choosing the wrong shoes, wearing the wrong socks, losing three Band-Aids, climbing into the back of a stranger’s truck for roadside medical assistance, and spending the next several days walking around in flip-flops!

That’s why I built Runner Freak.

I wanted to give runners, race organizers, spectators, businesses, coaches, and everyone else involved in the running world a place to share their stories, experiences, photos, videos, products, and services.

You don’t need to be fast, you don’t need to win, and you don’t even need to run a marathon. Whether you’re training for your first 5K, love running a 10K, celebrating your hundredth marathon, organizing a local race, or selling something that runners might find useful, there’s a place for your story here.

YOU JUST NEED A STORY WORTH TELLING.

If you’ve got one, you can create your own full-page Parking Spot here on Runner Freak for just $7. Your Parking Spot can include up to 30,000 characters (a limit I always seem to get close to achieving), 25 photos, two embedded videos, and links to your website, social media, or other resources.

Create one story, then another, and start building your own running library. You never know who might discover your experience, learn something from it, or simply enjoy reading about another runner’s adventures.

WHY STOP AT ONE?

Want to get started? Click this link to get back to the home page or just click the yellow GRAB A SPOT above:

https://www.runnerfreak.com/freak/TheCoolCarGuy/

Click the yellow +GRAB A SPOT button to create your own Parking Spot.

As for me, marathon number 130 is officially behind me, eight marathons are in the books for 2026, and I’ve got some healing to do before I tackle number 131. Unless I talk myself into Phoenix in December for some stupid reason. You never know!

Hopefully, by the time January rolls around, I’ll have recovered from this little adventure.

Those shoes went in the trash at the finish line and those socks are long gone.

But knowing me, I’ll probably find some other way to make the next marathon more interesting than it needs to be.

After all, what’s the point of running 26.2 miles if you don’t come home with a story worth telling?

WE’RE ALL RUNNING THE SAME RACE. JUST AT DIFFERENT PACES.