The Albuquerque Marathon — I Knew I Didn’t Train Enough… And Ran It Anyway
You Can’t Cheat a Marathon… But I Keep Trying
Albuquerque Marathon — April 11, New Mexico
My 126th Marathon
Even people who don’t run know:
If you’re going to run a marathon…
you’re supposed to train for it.
This one came faster than I could train for it.
And I paid for it around mile 14…
with 12 miles still to go.
The Trip to Albuquerque
Our buddy Daniel drove down about 6.5 hours from Highlands Ranch, CO to hang out with us before the race.
He wasn’t exactly excited about running it.
Neither were we.
Becky signed up for the Half.
Daniel and I committed to the Full.
Daniel had taken a nasty face plant about a month ago during a race and jacked up his back… so his training wasn’t great either.
Meanwhile, Becky and I had been in the middle of selling our house in Rio Rancho and packing for a move to Las Cruces.
Which meant:
• packing
• road trips
• zero consistency
Since running The Alamo Marathon in early March, it’s been Denver… Las Cruces… repeat.
My longest run before this?
👉 15 miles.
And your body doesn’t care what you ran last month.
It just says:
“Are we really doing this again?
You didn’t train for this… genius.”
Packet Pickup (Not an Expo)
Packet pickup was inside a running store.
No expo.
No hype.
Just runners.
It had been raining on and off Friday, so the big question was:
What’s race morning going to look like?
Pre-Race Decisions (Still Questionable)
You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.
Pizza happened again.
This time at Gimani in Albuquerque.
Chopped salad.
A couple slices of pizza.
Starbucks matcha lattes… again.
I know better.
Still did it anyway.
Pro tip (still ignored):
Pasta > Pizza before a marathon.
Race Morning
Up at 5:00 AM.
Race started at 7:30.
We parked at Sagebrush Church — huge parking lot, zero stress.
Finish line was there too… so no bag check, no chaos.
The start line?
About a 0.2 mile walk down the street.
No fanfare.
Just:
- a sign
- a race director with a bullhorn
- and a start gun
Simple.
Half vs Full
Becky ran the Half.
I ran the Full.
No coordination:
• Becky started at 8:30
• Daniel and I started at 7:30
• Daniel took off immediately
• I ran my own race
I saw Daniel once around mile 10 at a turnaround.
That was it.
Mile 10 — Meet Milton
Around mile 10, I ended up running with a guy named Milton Mitchell.
72 years old.
From St. Louis.
Running his 33rd marathon.
He’s working on all 50 states.
He asked me why I hadn’t done it yet.
I told him:
👉 Too expensive. Too much travel.
He told me about the 6 Days of New England — six marathons in six days across six states.
He’s doing it.
Which is… insane.
But also completely normal in the world of Runner Freaks.
The Course
Flat.
But don’t let that fool you.
• Big loop
• Long stretches
• Minimal crowd support
• Sun + humidity from the day before
That humidity?
Yeah… that turned into chafing real quick if you were out there too long.
Which I was.
Great for a few screams in the shower afterward.
Aid stations were solid:
Water.
Gatorade.
Pretzels.
Snacks.
No complaints there.
The Bathroom Situation
Around mile 12… things got real.
I spotted a porta-potty.
Line.
Of course.
So I made a decision:
Run back about a mile to a real bathroom we passed earlier.
Bad decision.
Didn’t follow the trail… followed the road.
At that point, it was no longer optional.
Then I spotted a porta-potty across a lake.
About a quarter mile away.
So naturally…
I sprinted around the lake like my life depended on it.
No line.
Victory.
About 7 minutes later, I was back on the course.
That was my biggest complaint about the race:
👉 Not enough bathroom access for the distance.
Mile 15 — The Wall (Early)
My legs were done around mile 15.
Which makes sense…
because I didn’t train.
So the last 11 miles became:
Run a few cones.
Walk.
Run a few cones.
Walk.
At mile 24, Becky called:
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know if I’m going to make it.”
She laughed:
“Walk if you have to.”
I said:
“What do you think I’ve been doing?”
Race Conditions
Weather:
Hot.
Humid.
No rain.
Classic Albuquerque… just with a twist – humidity added.
Medal?
Solid.
Very New Mexico.
Shirt?
Black. Cotton.
Perfect for sleeping or wearing around the house.
Why Running Is About People
Milton beat me by 7 minutes.
(Turns out bathroom strategy matters.)
He took 1st in his age group (70–79).
At 72 years old.
And that’s what’s crazy about running.
You meet people in their:
- 60s
- 70s
- 80s
Still out there doing it.
While most people think they’re done.
Lessons (That I’ll Probably Ignore Again)
• Eat better the day before
• Chocolate croissant before the race? Probably not ideal
• Don’t wait until mile 12 for a bathroom plan
• Humidity matters more than you think
• The Half Marathon is still the smarter choice
The Finish
I averaged about an 11:48 pace and came in at:
👉 5:09:30
For this race… that was a win.
Considering:
- longest run was 15 miles
- barely stretched
- questionable food choices
Daniel?
Finished about 32 minutes faster.
Won his age group.
(There’s a pattern there.)
Becky?
Finished her Half in 2:25:05
and then waited around with Daniel for me to make it in.
The Finish Line (Where This Race Stands Out)
One thing this race absolutely nailed:
👉 the finish line experience
Pizza.
Popsicles.
Fudge bars.
Snacks everywhere.
Not the usual:
- half a banana
- a piece of bread
- and “good luck”
This guy overdelivered.
After 26.2 miles… it mattered.
Post-Race Conversations (Because This Always Happens)
After the race, a guy came up to us and handed us a flyer for Tai Chi and Yoga.
Which… honestly… I should probably be doing.
I told him we were moving three hours south to Las Cruces, or I might’ve taken him up on it.
Daniel?
Driving back to Colorado the next day.
So that idea lasted about 30 seconds.
Off to Starbucks
And of course…
👉 Starbucks matcha latte.
Because apparently I don’t learn anything before or after a race.
Final Thought
You can’t fake your way through a marathon.
You can show up undertrained.
You can make bad decisions.
You can try to outthink it.
But somewhere along the way…
👉 it catches up to you.
And you deal with it… one mile at a time.
Why This Lives on RunnerFreak
This isn’t about times or medals.
It’s about the stories.
The mistakes.
The people.
The moments you laugh about later.
That’s what RunnerFreak is for.
Want to Post Your Own Story?
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You don’t need to win.
Maybe you:
- ran your first race
- crewed for someone
- have a “never again” story
- or an “I’ll do it again anyway” story
Those count.
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We’re all running the same race — just at different paces.