February 18, 2017: Thrill in the Hills 21K

"I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears, and sweat."  Winston Churchill, 1940

"Scars are like tattoos but with better stories."  original source unknown

After a great experience running the 2016 "Thrill in the Hills 21K" at Fort Yargo State Park, I was eager to try this race again.  I finished the 2016 race in 2:26:38, running fairly consistently throughout.  However I thought that I might have been overly conservative, as I had plenty of energy left to run a strong sprint at the finish.  I was confident that I could shave a few minutes off of my time in this year's race.

After last week's 5K, the following partial thread appeared in my Facebook posting from Tucker Running Club friends: 

We love these shirts, from the
2015 Red Top Roaster races,
our first trail races. 

As I'm in marathon training mode, with the Publix Georgia Marathon now just four weeks ahead (March 19), I figured that a trail half-marathon would be a more interesting and enjoyable substitute for the weekend long run.  I've read in several articles that trail running is a great way to build endurance and balance, to run better and faster in road races.  Also, I've really enjoyed the routes and the organization of Dirty Spokes races.  Bonnie was running a 5K this morning with Brian and Beverly, the "Atlanta Mission Race to End Homelessness", so we both woke up early and left the house shortly after 6 am for our respective races, Bonnie going west and me going about 30 miles east of home. 

Patrick is wearing the yellow Marathon Maniacs shirt 

Jessica is wearing the pink Atlanta Track Club shirt 

Shortly before the marathon began, I ran into Patrick Garner (Tucker Running Club) and Jessica Rudd (Atlanta Track Club run leader), both of whom completed today's 42K race.  Patrick has run at least 50 marathons, his wife Heather has completed more than 100 marathons, and I'm confident that Patrick will soon reach the century mark himself.  Jessica was one of the run leaders for the 11-minute pace group in last fall's marathon training program.  She took off one Saturday from her duties as run leader last fall, to complete her first triathlon.  Jessica is currently on a streak of running one marathon per month.  The 42K runners began at 8:00 am sharp, getting a 30 minute headstart on the 21K runners.  

After watching the start of the 42K race, I went back to my car, shed a top layer as the temperature was predicted to warm into the 50's, picked up my gatorade/water mix, and went through a second round of dynamic stretches.  The plan was to save some time by carrying my own water so that I wouldn't need to stop at hydration stations.  For some reason, I didn't really warm up by running.  I guess I didn't think that I needed to do so today.  We started the 21K race at 8:30 am sharp.  As most of the first mile was on a road, to spread us out before entering the woods, I ran the first mile fairly fast, in 9 minutes.  Once we were on the trails, I was running with a group that was moving at about a 10 minute / mile pace.  That was more or less my goal pace, knowing that I would slow down as we got into hillier sections, but if I ran the overall race at an 11 minute / mile pace, I would finish a few minutes faster than last year's time.  

I show up in the video at 7:00, entering the woods near the end of the first mile

Shortly before the 2-mile mark, a runner was passing me on my left.  He had announced himself and I thought that I had moved over enough to the right side of the trail.  I'm not sure if he accidentally clipped my heel or if it was purely my fault, perhaps tripping over a root, but I began to fall and couldn't pull out of it.  

I couldn't believe that I had fallen, and this early in the race!  

I got up quickly and resumed running but almost immediately had to take a walk break, in part to calm down.  I also felt a stitch of pain in my left side, like I had a cramp or muscle strain.  I tried to stretch while walking, but the pain didn't go away, so I would just have to keep going, hoping that the pain would subside after awhile.  With 11 miles to go, I started having negative thoughts.  "If I was running the 5K downtown with Bonnie, I would be nearly done" was countered with "I'm running four times the distance for just a few more dollars".  Of course the runners in downtown Atlanta didn't have tree roots to contend with, but maybe Bonnie and the others were dodging potholes.

This seemed like such a good idea when I registered late last month. 

As we continued into the forest, quite a few people passed me.  In the forest, it was difficult to judge progress, as the Garmin watch didn't accurately record distance, but every mile along the route was marked.  I had a general sense that I was on track for a better finish than last year.  I reached mile 5 at 52:43, which at the same pace would get me to mile 10 around 1:46, with 40 minutes to run the last 3.1 miles.  But then around mile 6, it happened again: I hit a tree root with the left foot, fell to the ground landing with my right knee on another tree root.  First blood!  Again I got up quickly and started running again.  On a walk break I looked down and could see a red spot on the knee, but the ketchup wasn't running down my leg, and it didn't hurt too badly, so I figured that it wasn't too bad.  

Shortly before the mile 7 marker, we took a left onto a long uphill along a pipeline route.  Last year I remembered passing a bunch of people in this section, as I jogged uphill.  After walking for about a minute, I began jogging today, again passing a good number of the other competitors.  At the mile 8 marker, I noticed my time was 1:29, more or less the same time that I finished last fall's 10 miler - on Atlanta streets.  Finally I was feeling good again.  I led a pack of runners for a couple of miles without being passed, and sped up a bit as we covered a smooth part of the trail - no tree roots!  I finished mile 10 at 1:51:32.  I could hear at least one, probably two women following very close behind me.  I wouldn't have been perturbed if they had passed me at some point, but they were pushing me just enough to give me the motivation that I needed to make my time goal.  After all, surely I could cover the final 3.1 miles in 35 minutes or less.  

Point man for the group behind me.  My job was to find the
 tree roots and warn the others by rolling on the ground. 

Then, shortly after passing the mile 11 marker at 2:03, another tree root rose up from the trail to knock me down.  This time I landed on the soft cushion of a briar patch!  The women behind me stopped to make sure that I was OK - there were actually three women in the group.  I waved them on with my left hand and said "Go on, I'm fine", and then looked at my right hand, which was covered with blood on one side.  The wound wasn't deep but there were several cuts from the thorns.  I got up fairly quickly, but several other runners passed me before I felt like running again.  I tried to get up to speed, and then my toe hit another tree root.  This time I caught myself and didn't fall, but the pain in my left side spiked for a moment.   

Run Grumpy, Run Slow

Mentally I quit around that time.  When I passed the mile 12 marker at 2:17, I quickly accepted that 2:26 was out of reach for today, and decided that my only goal was to finish without falling again.  The wisdom of that decision was verified a moment later, when a women in another group of three about 20 feet in front of me fell.  She got up quickly and her friends brushed the leaves from her back.  She said it was her third fall today.  The trio stayed just a bit ahead of me for the rest of the race.  While I might have passed them if I had cared to try, it just wasn't important enough to make the effort.  I had already conceded to them that I was no longer racing for time, having fallen three times myself and having no chance to improve on last year's time.   

Blood-stained bib

Soon I could hear the announcements from the finish line as we ran along the lake, and then the Fort Yargo cabin came into view.  With less than half a mile to the finish, I still ran slowly and carefully.  There were many tree roots along the path, even near the finish.  As we ran along the road past the mile 13 marker, I remembered that last year I was racing another man to the finish, pushing as hard as I could.  Today, I just kept up a steady jog.  I was so relieved to be turning into the finish lane for the 21K race, instead of going straight for another lap.  One of the three women ahead of me (not the one that had just fallen) did run straight ahead, looking strong as she began her second lap.  I couldn't imagine running another lap of that punishing course, not today.  I jogged downhill, taking my time even getting to the finish line.  I heard a very satisfying, loud beep as my timing chip recorded my finish, at 2:35:29.  A volunteer handed me a medal, I thanked him, and then stopped to collect myself.  

"Just a few more steps, and then I'll give you this trinket!"  

I didn't shed any tears, but today's race was really brutally difficult.   I went to a restroom in the pavilion and managed to clean up a bit in the sink.  Fortunately the hand and knee injuries weren't too bad.  But after returning to the main pavilion, I tried to begin a round of cool-down stretches, only to find that I couldn't bend over at the waist without considerable pain.  At one of the tables, packets of Advil with a $3 coupon were available.  I picked up the Advil packet, washed down the pills with a few sips of the complimentary Bai juice, and decided that I was ready to go home.  It even began to rain as I walked to the car, and at times the rain was quite heavy during the drive home to Tucker.  I felt sorry for the full marathon runners, almost all of them still out on the course, including Patrick and Jessica.  One bit of good news: I did cross the finish line 4 minutes ahead of the 42K winner, avoiding complete humiliation.  That was the only one of today's goals that was achieved, other than finishing, of course.  

Nice medal.
Was it worth it? 

I began to ask myself after the second mishap, why did I fall so many times today?  The trail was well-groomed, and I even clearly saw one of the tree roots that tripped me up, and I still couldn't avoid it.  I think that the difference between this year and last year's race was that I ran on tired legs today, being in the middle of marathon training.  I didn't pick up my feet as much as I would have if I was better rested.  As much as I enjoy the idea of trail races, I will need to be better prepared - and/or select a shorter distance - if /when I do this again.  (You know that I will try again!)

As I write this some 12 hours later, I suspect that I may have broken a rib in the very first fall.  Fortunately I made it another 11 miles, so the injury may not be very serious, but I'm now on my third dose of ibuprofen since finishing the race.  It's not too painful when I'm sitting or standing, but it is very difficult to change positions between sitting and standing.  I can bend over but must do it very slowly and gradually.  We'll see how things feel over the next 36 hours, but I may need to call the doctor on Monday.  Unfortunately I know from having broken a rib about 20 years ago, there isn't much to be done except to wait out the 6 weeks for the injury to heal.  

February 20 update: I went to the doctor today and after a series of rib X-rays, it appears that my ribs are intact, and the pain is likely due to a muscle strain.  That's very good news, as it will probably heal within the next couple of weeks. 

When I compared my progress this year vs. last year's progress, I ran the first four miles faster than last year, but then fell behind by the time I reached the mile 5 marker.  The difference in times steadily increased, to nearly 4 minutes slower at mile 11.  I lost another five minutes in the last 2.1 miles after the third fall, as I was just aiming to finish.  Perhaps I fell the second and third times because I was trying too hard after I was already physically and mentally tired.  

February 11, 2017: Atlanta Track Club Hearts & Soles 5K

2014: 26:14

2015: volunteered

2016: 24:00

In last year's Hearts & Soles race, I set a personal record for the 5K, smashing the 25 minute barrier for the first time.  Looking back on my blog post from last year confirmed my memory of running faster than I could have imagined, yet feeling fairly good from start-to-finish, both physically and psychologically.  A couple of months later, I ran another 5K a few seconds faster, setting my current PR at 23:52.  As I prepared for today's race, I realized that I've run very few 5K races since then, the last being the Cartersville cross-country 5K in September 2016.  Frankly, 5K races have sometimes been painful, running at close to maximum effort for 3.11 miles.  In the past year, I've focused on longer distances and building endurance, but I've lost some speed.  The Achilles / calf strain has greatly improved over the past month.  Having finished long runs of 15, 17.5, and 20 miles over the past three weekends, I'm confident that I can run the Publix Marathon next month.  But in the long slow distance runs, the objective is to build endurance rather than speed.  Today's 5K race was a good test of my physical fitness with regard to speed.  

Another strong turnout from the Tucker Running Club!
And this was just the group of 20 that were present 45 minutes ahead of the race start.
Several others were volunteering, warming up, or still arriving. 

Bonnie and I shortly before the race began

I had fairly low expectations for my time in today's race, but was trying for another 24 minute finish, at least at the start.  I warmed up well with a 3-mile progression run, running the last mile at an overall pace of 8:30 min/mile, with occasional short bursts at 7:30 min/mile pace.  After the warmup, I felt strong and pain-free, and decided to line up at the back of the A group (7:30 min / mile or faster).  By the "rules", I should have lined up near the front of wave B (8:30 min / mile or faster), but then I might start out too fast, whereas from the back of wave A, I can set a reasonable pace without getting in the way of the real speedsters.  

Speedsters Joel Seskin and Robin Mitchell joined me at the back of wave A.  To my surprise, Corey Tanner was standing in the front of wave B.  We figured (correctly) that Corey was saving himself for the 19 additional miles that he would be doing later this morning with the marathon training group.  Robin is recovering from a cold and didn't expect to run very fast today.  We were chatting when we heard the air horn go off without warning (because I wasn't listening for announcements).  Fortunately my watch quickly synchronized with the satellite in the 20 seconds that it took to reach the starting line, and so I was able to accurately track my run from start to finish.  

For the first mile I wanted to run faster than 8:00 but was careful not to push faster than 7:30, knowing that I couldn't sustain 3 miles at that faster pace.  Joel pulled ahead of me in the first half-mile and I didn't see much of him again except briefly when we passed before I reached the turnaround.  The first half-mile was uphill, and I could feel the effort of exertion early in the race, but after making the first turn onto Wildcat Road, I regained some speed going downhill.  Midway through the first mile, Robin caught up to me.  I commented "This is Robin passing me, running fast while sick!"  She told me that while she was setting out cones early that morning, there was a badly injured dog near the road that might have been there for days, the poor dog was so emaciated.  If I understood her correctly as she began to pull ahead, Robin had called the county animal control this morning but they had not yet arrived.  I didn't see the dog, I was concentrating on running, but quite a few other runners noticed the dog, watching humans having fun running back and forth while the injured dog was in pain and hungry. 

I was surprised to finish the first mile in 7:37, but I was beginning to doubt that I could maintain that pace.  The lead runners passed on the return leg at around the 2-mile mark for them, with two pairs of male runners separated only by a few seconds, so they were heading for a highly competitive finish. (The top four finished in a range of 15:39 to 15:51, must have been exciting to watch!)  I ran strongly through the turnaround, reaching the 2-mile mark myself at 7:57 (15:34 elapsed).  But I was seriously winded at this point, huffing and puffing quite loudly as I struggled to keep going.  Terry (I don't remember her last name) caught up to me, and she encouraged me to keep pushing forward.  I don't know if she slowed down a little or if I managed to speed up a bit, but we ran together for at least a quarter-mile.  Corey Tanner passed at this point - I had a two-minute head start on Corey - and he was running easily, seemingly without effort.  Terry said "Keep up with him!" but I knew that was the impossible dream, as much as I wanted to keep Corey within sight.  

This race has a reputation as a fast-and-flat course, and by Atlanta standards, that is absolutely correct.  But in the third mile, there is about a 40-foot gradual rise at the end of Wildcat Road, peaking near the intersection with Clifton Springs Road.  Last year it didn't seem to bother me too much, but this year, it was a mental struggle not to surrender to the temptation to just give up and walk.  I did manage to fight my way up the hill without walking or stopping, or worse, suffering a cardiac event.  I really appreciated the volunteer at the turn reminding us that it was downhill to the finish.  Indeed upon making the turn onto Clifton Springs Road, I regained some speed.  I was disappointed to have run the third mile slower than 8 minutes, as I approached the 3-mile marker (23:52 elapsed), and that confirmed that today's 5K would not be a PR performance.  But somehow I summoned my inner Usain Bolt at the 3-mile marker, with only 110 meters to go.  OK, to be honest, I never found an Usain Bolt within me, he was 1000 miles away in Jamaica.   But I did manage sufficient acceleration for the final dash to finish at a 7:25 min/mile pace.  A good number of the 397 people who finished ahead of me were cheering the rest of us through the finish line, including my colleague and friend Simon Blakey, who had run an incredibly strong time of 21:08.  I crossed the finish line just a few seconds past 25:00 on the clock, official chip time 24:44.  

I wasn't surprised that I ran slower than last year's time, but was very pleased to break 25 minutes.  In fact today's race was my third-fastest 5K run.  After receiving a bottle of water and a power bar, I headed near the finish line to watch for and cheer for the remaining finishers, while I occasionally did some post-run stretches.  It's amazing how many people I now know by name at these races, through Tucker Running Club, runningnerds, Atlanta Track Club training programs, and just regularly participating in these races.  Socially this is a huge change for me, expanding my circle well beyond the university bubble, one of the best things about running.  At my first Hearts & Soles race three years ago, I don't think that I knew anyone at all. 

After the race, Robin went back to wait near the dog, until animal control personnel arrived.  Robin said that they carried the dog on a stretcher, but I was glad to know that she was rescued.  One of "Man's best friends" certainly didn't deserve to suffer alone on the side of the road, and we owe a debt to Robin and the other compassionate humans who stayed this morning to ensure that the dog was rescued.   

Gathering for a celebratory brunch at Home Grown restaurant on Memorial Drive, with Brian Minor and Beverly Ford, Duncan and Wendy Whatney, and Priscilla and Mike Hammond.   I ordered vegetarian with the best of intentions, but the plate of three delicious chocolate chip pancakes wasn't the healthiest option, especially when the pancakes overlapped the edge of a large plate.  During our meal, we met several other runners who had also run the Hearts & Soles 5K.