May 27, 2019: Memorial Day 10K

Although I want to gradually rebuild my mileage, I've struggled with heat this summer.  Nonetheless I am running several times each week, and trying to build enough strength to run a double-digit long run every other week.  But over the past couple of months, I had run such relatively short distances, that my first 10K run was only a couple of weeks ago.  And for scheduling reasons, almost all of my weekday runs have been in the evenings, when it's been in high 80's.  I try to tell myself that I'm building my heat tolerance. 

This morning's 10K promised to be a test of my heat tolerance, with temperatures predicted to be 70 deg F at 7 am and rising to 79 deg F by 8 am.  I was grateful for the early 7:30 am start, even though it meant leaving the house around 6 am to get to Marietta, about a 30 mile drive away.  Since it was Memorial Day, there were a lot of police on the highway.  I saw a lot of blue police lights, even in the light traffic early in the morning.  A half-mile before my exit, a police car sped out in front of me to chase down another car - I was just glad those blue lights weren't intended for me! 

Finisher's medal

I arrived about an hour ahead of the starting time.  The volunteer gave me my bib, the shirt, and then, my finisher medal!  So I went back to the car, and drove home.  I wanted to get an early start on writing this blog report.  



Alternate ending: 

I don't know how anyone could get lost on this
straight out-and-back course. 

I paid for the opportunity to earn the medal by running the miles, so I stuck around.  David Bloomquist and I went for an easy warmup run along the first mile of the race route.  I might have gone a little further, but decided that I should get back to ensure that I could use the port-a-potty before the race started.  Very good decision: the line was long, and I barely made it before it was time for the official race start!  I don't know about the dozens of others still in line, only five minutes before the start.  

For today's heat management plan, I carried a 10 ounce bottle of cold Nuun on my running belt, and a handheld bottle that contained a lot of crushed ice, and a little cold water to fill the bottle.  I wasn't certain that carrying the extra weight was good for my speed, but had a feeling that I wouldn't regret it later in the race.  I didn't see anyone else carrying enough water to run a full marathon, but that was my plan and I was sticking to it.  

"THE SUMMIT
AT PIEDMONT"
I hadn't noticed that
earlier. 

This race started with a 10 second countdown and several blasts of an airhorn: there was no doubt about the start.  I crossed under the timing banner about 15 seconds after the official start.  We wound through the parking lot (I wonder how that would look on a USATF-certified map), avoided tripping over several speed bumps, and made our way onto East Piedmont Road, heading in the southeast at first, facing into the rising sun.  Although the temperature was 73 deg F, I felt the occasional light breeze.  I was pretty careful not to push too hard in the first mile, which I finished in 8:25.  I was a little annoyed that there were no mile markers along the route, so I had to rely exclusively on my watch.  It wasn't clear if we should run in the right lane or the left lane, but most runners were in the left lane so I joined them as well.  The outbound stage of the route was well-protected for the first mile, without any cars at all.  I took my first sips of Nuun at that moment, even though I wasn't thirsty.  The hand-held water bottle was a little heavy, with the crushed ice sloshing inside the bottle.  

Although both the 5K and 10K courses were out-and-back, it seemed like a long time before I saw the leading 5K runners returning, perhaps 13 minutes on my watch.  (The 5K winner finished in 19:19.)    After climbing the first significant hill, we reached the 5K turnaround.  Only about half of the runners turned around, and a good number continued along the 10K route.  Shortly before completing the second mile, we started up a long hill, 80 feet climb over 0.5 mile.  I watched my heartrate pretty closely, and despite the exertion of climbing the mill, it remained in the low 160s, which was sustainable.  Finishing the second mile in 8:50 (17:15 elapsed), I wasn't going to set any speed records today, but I felt OK, taking another couple of sips of Nuun at the top of the hill, at the intersection with Allgood Road.  

Heading downhill, I didn't pick up much speed, but wanted to bank the energy that I would need in the second half of the race.  Before long it was time to climb the next hill, on the way to Sewell Mill Road.  I found myself slowing down even more than I had expected, but I didn't want to tire myself out too early, so I gave in to a 9:19 mile 3 (26:34 elapsed).  And discovered that my bottle of Nuun was less than half-full!  While running downhill I decided to add some cold water from the hand-held (no ice left) into the Nuun bottle.  Other than the awkwardness of taking off one screw cap and squeezing water from one bottle into another, while trying to run a 9 minute / mile pace, I avoided dropping anything.  Although I need a better way to transfer while running, that proved very helpful in the second half of the race.  

Shortly before the 10K turnaround, I saw David Bloomquist across the divider, heading back to the finish, followed by Kilsun Hogue, who I hadn't realized was running today.  I gave them each a wave with my free left hand.  Unfortunately I didn't think to count off how many seconds ahead they might be until after I had made the turn myself.  Now I could feel the heat with the sun on my back.  I took another sip of Nuun, which was diluted but pleasantly cool.  After another half-mile, I squirted a little cool water on my head, neck, and back.  That helped for a moment.  All the while, we ran back up the hill through the intersection with Sewell Mill Road, then downhill for little while, then working our way back up the hill to Allgood Road, the highest point of the race.  I finished mile 4 in 9:01, 35:35 elapsed.  Nearly three minutes slower than the 4-mile race a month ago, but the temperature was 25 degrees higher today.  I decided that I just wanted to maintain a 9 minute / mile pace for the rest of this race.  

The warm temperature was bothering me by this stage.  I kept sipping on the Nuun and squirting water on my head from the hand-held bottle, now approaching room temperature.  At a water station, a volunteer handed me a cup of water, which I promptly poured over my head - I still had enough fluid to drink.  Another substantial hill, which I remembered from the course map: was that the last hill, other than the slight uphill going into the finish?  Now I was occasionally sipping from the hand-held as well.  Mile 5 took 9:20, 44:54 elapsed.  I decided at that point that I would be happy with a 56 minute finish, but wondered what I might do better in my next two warm weather 10K races.  I'm definitely carrying two water bottles.    

We ran downhill for awhile.  I managed to pass a couple of people in this section.  The man was walking, the woman was still running pretty well, and I hoped that she wouldn't pick up her own pace and pass me later on.   The sixth mile seemed to go on forever: then up ahead I saw the blue lights of the police cars marking the turn into the parking lot near the finish.  Unlike my attitude two hours earlier, now I was so happy to see those police lights, even though they were at the top of a hill!  I tried to pick up my pace, didn't really do much but perhaps that deliberate attempt kept me from slowing down too much.  Shortly before the turn, my watch signalled mile 6 in 9:10, 54:04 elapsed.  Two minutes to go!  

I made a left turn on the approach road to the parking lot.  No one was directly in front of me, but I sensed someone coming up from behind.  I made a sharp right turn as soon as I entered the lot.  I thought I saw a man dressed in white just behind me.  Pick up the pace, I said to myself, and I surged ahead just a bit.  Then he himself surged forward, passed me, and kept moving quickly.  The finish line came into sight, but at that point I gave up, I wasn't going to catch him, and just ran steadily toward the finish line, crossing at 56:05 on the clock, 55:55 on my watch, 55:49 official.  So I managed a sub-56 minute finish!  

That run took just about all of my energy.  I was soaked from head-to-toe, mostly with sweat, and both water bottles were nearly empty.  But my conclusion was that I paced the race pretty well for the conditions (and for my current conditioning), and I definitely made the right decision to carry the extra water.  

David 1st place age group

Kilsun 1st place grandmaster

Some runners got their results right away: David learned that he was 1st place in his age group, at 51:31, and Kilsun was the first female grandmaster at 54:04.  However, my result didn't show up on the computer.  I would have been concerned, except that officials tore off a strip from my bib as soon as I crossed the finish line, so I knew that they had a record of my finish.  After I drank another bottle of water and ate a banana, I decided to stick around for the awards ceremonies.  The 5K awards took awhile, and my cardiovascular system had recovered, so I decided to run a cool-down mile, which really helped my legs.  

Finally it was time for the 10K awards ceremony.  I wasn't expecting much, considering that today's finish was 6 minutes slower than my 10K personal best, and nearly two minutes slower than my best time on this course (54:02 in 2015, I had looked it up yesterday).  As they called the male 50 - 54 age group winners, Kilsun offered to take a photo on my phone "when my name was called".  I told her "I don't think that I'm winning anything" but reconsidered, as they were moving quickly through the names, and I might not have a chance to hand her my phone if I did win something.  

First place: not me, no surprise. 

Second place: not me, no surprise. 

I've medaled four weeks in a row! 

Third place: a pause, then I heard "Frank McDonald"    Big surprise!!  I walked forward to accept my medal, very happy to place, and thankful that Kilsun had asked for my phone in advance. 

It turns out that the fastest runner in my age group was 10th overall (44:11), and won the 3rd place male masters award.  To spread out the awards, the next fastest man in the age group ran 51:30, 40th overall, to win the first place age group award.  Second place age group went to 53rd overall, finishing in 54:18, and then I was 63rd overall out of 204 10K finishers at 55:49.  The man that passed me in the final seconds for 62nd overall was age 51, only sixth place in the 50 - 54 age group despite his great kick at the end.  What a difference a few years makes!  I managed to stay in front of the woman that I had passed in the sixth mile, she finished 28 seconds after me in 64th place overall, to secure 2nd place in her age group.  

Bronze medal

  

May 21, 2019: The 100 meter dash at the All Comers Track & Field meet

The running event in this summer's All Comers Track & Field meet is the 100 meter dash.  The intimidating thing about this event for me is, I have the perception that I need 100 meters just to get started.  But in such a short race, every second counts, especially starting from a set position.  

Prior to this week, the only thing that I really knew about the 100 meter dash was that Usain Bolt held the world record.  He covered the distance in less than 10 seconds, 9.58 seconds, to be exact.  My goals for the race were:

1) To finish faster than twice Usain Bolt's time, meaning faster than 19.16 seconds; and

2) To avoid getting hurt.  

A couple of days before the race, I did a little reading, and watched a You tube video on the 100 meter dash:

"How to Run a Faster 100 Meter Dash"

I remembered five points from my research: 

1) Drive off from blocks for the fastest start,

2) Fall forward without straightening for the first 10 - 20 meters, 

3) Maximize velocity in the middle stage of the race, 

4) Pump the arms to maintain speed for as long as possible, and 

5) Accept that slowing down before reaching the finish line is inevitable, even for the greatest sprinters. 

Having never used blocks before, the day before the race, while warming up for a group run, I found a quiet dead-end street near downtown Tucker in which the block seemed about 100 meters.  I took a four-point stance pushing one heel against the curb, and went through the five stages Drive - Fall - Maximize - Pump - and tried not to Accept before reaching the end of the block.  That went pretty well the first time, and after a few minutes to catch my breath, a second sprint went even better.  In fact those two sprints might have been the first time that I've ever run faster than 10 miles per hour on a level surface. 

On the morning of the race, the Atlanta Track Club published the heats.  I was scheduled for the fourth of eight men's heats, with a group of men ages 55 - 62.  This was an intimidating group: Ken Youngers in lane 2 won a recent 5K in which I ran 7 minutes slower; Matthew Dickinson in lane 7 nearly broke the 20 minute mark in a 5K earlier this year; and Bert Leib and David Bloomquist are both reliably a little faster than me, by a minute or more in most 5K and 10K races.  I didn't know the runners in lanes 1, 5, or 8.

I just hoped that I would not finish last.  

I arrived about 45 minutes before the first heats were due to begin.  That was plenty of time to check in, dynamic stretch, and warm up with short jogs on the field.   There was a set of blocks on the other side of the track, which a few of us took turns practicing.  I didn't know how to adjust the blocks to my liking, but I tried a four-point stance and a practice start, and it felt good.  I then spent quite a bit of time watching the unofficial heats, and then the first few heats of the women's races, so that I knew what to expect at the start. 

Finally it was time for the men to line up!  None of us had run a 100 meter dash since our grade school days - I didn't let on that I had "practiced" the night before.  I normally don't get nervous about the competition in a race, but tonight I felt a little anxiety.  

And now it was our turn.  I was the only runner that would use the blocks.  It helped that the blocks were already in place in lane 4.  They were a little close to the starting line, I thought.  I pulled them back a few inches from the line, as if I knew what I was doing.  But I didn't fool around with adjusting anything.  Now was not the time to decide which foot I wanted in back and which would be in front.  It would just have to work, as if they were already perfectly set for me. 

The starter very carefully gave us instructions as we stood a meter behind the line: "When I say, On your mark - feet against the blocks, position your hands behind the start line, resting on your knees.  Set - you'll rise up into a four-point stance.  Don't jump the gun start!  You'll be disqualified - and you won't get your Grand Prix points!"  

Staring into the setting sun, glad for my sunglasses, I stepped over the blocks, took a couple of seconds to get my feet positioned just right, bent down to put my hands just behind the line, then remembered to get down on both knees as well.  Thanks to the starter's clear instructions, and having watched the previous heats quite closely, I had a good anticipation for the timing of his commands.  If he went a bit slowly, his timing was perfect for this amateur, and ensured that I was comfortable with my start. 

"On your mark!"  I was alert and ready.  "Set!"  Knees off the ground, butt in the air.

"CRACKKKK!!!"  As the pistol sounded, I automatically sprang off the blocks, reacting without thinking.  It was the most natural thing in the world.  I accelerated faster than I've ever moved before.  For a fraction of a second I wondered if I would fall to the track, but in the first dozen steps I grew comfortable with my balance, drove my body forward, trying not to straighten up too soon.  And to my amazement, I kept up with the others!  I wasn't in the lead, but I wasn't too far behind the lead runner.  Between the sun and my exertion, my vision was a blur, but I remained safely in my lane, making a beeline to the finish line.  Running at my maximum velocity, I remembered to pump my arms to maintain my speed.  People were cheering, midway down the track I heard someone shout "Go Frank!", and that propelled me forward even if I might have slowed a bit.  As the finish line clock came into view, I saw 13 seconds, but no one in my heat had finished yet!  Pumping my arms to keep pushing forward, I was definitely finishing under 19 seconds!!  The last number that I saw on the clock was 16.  I looked straight ahead instead of turning my head to the left to follow the clock.  I didn't know exactly when I crossed the finish line, but as I saw the others slow well past the line, I gradually decelerated.  I needed nearly the entire 20 - 30 yard "buffer" area to come to a stop.  

How exhilarating!    

I had no idea if I wasn't the last person across the finish line, but I was close to all of the runners in front of me, and was very pleased with my sprint!  I guessed that my finish time was probably 17 seconds and change.  It took a day and a half before I received an e-mail from the Atlanta Track Club with my results, but my sense was correct: 

Official time: 17.56 seconds

Fifth out of eight sprinters in the heat

I calculated my average speed: 12.7 mph!

I was only 2.20 seconds behind the first finisher in our heat.  Unlike many of the heats that preceded us, our finish times were all bunched within a 4 second window.  Even the eighth-place finisher in our heat crossed the line in a very respectable 19.05 seconds, beating "double-Usain-Bolt's-time" of 19.16 seconds.  

May 18, 2019: Kirkwood Spring Fling 5K

Panorama shortly before we began today's race. 

Kirkwood is a neighborhood located on the eastern edge of the City of Atlanta, adjoining the Oakhurst neighborhood of Decatur.  At one time, Kirkwood was an independent city, designed as a "streetcar suburb".  In fact, in the first part of the 20th century, a streetcar line connected the campus of Agnes Scott College in downtown Decatur with downtown Atlanta.  In Kirkwood, the line ran along Oakview Road, now a relatively quiet winding residential drive.  

Photo downloaded from liveitpatlanta.com/kirkwood-30317
The race began in front of the Valero station. 

Although Kirkwood is just a few miles south of the Emory University campus and my old home in Druid Hills, I may not have set foot in Kirkwood until I began running a few years ago.  When the Big Peach Running Company store was located in downtown Decatur, their group run routes often took us through the hills of Oakhurst and Kirkwood.  The store recently moved a couple of miles north to a larger building with plenty of free parking, a definite upgrade for the store, but I miss some of the old routes. 

I've heard of the Kirkwood 5K race in previous years, but had never run it.  Carl Line and I decided to register for the race, after it was heavily promoted during a group run a few weeks ago.  I was looking forward to another friendly competition, although Carl was taking it a bit easy today, saving his legs for a half-marathon tomorrow.  

Having won third place age group awards in the past two 5K races, Bonnie said "Bring home another third place medal!" as I left the house this morning.  "We'll see..." I said.  I didn't think that there was much chance of that today, given the larger field of participants and the age group spreads.  Over 600 people had registered in advance, and with race day registration, 667 runners finished today.  Moreover, instead of nice small 5-year age groups, this race had 10-year age groups.  And most of the grandmasters were all lumped together in the 55+ age group!  

It was a nice morning for a walk, but with temperatures in the low 70's, and 85% humidity, the run promised a challenge.  One of the Big Peach Running Company slogans is "Heat, hills, and humidity: Welcome to Atlanta!"  We're definitely into early summer.  Fortunately I was well hydrated in preparation for today's race, following advice I had heard about drinking electrolyte mixes the day before summer race or a long run.  

I arrived about an hour ahead of time.  Carl joined me for a nice 2-1/2 mile warmup along part of the route.  He had already run a mile or so from the parking lot at the East Lake MARTA station, whereas I found street parking on Oakview Road a couple of blocks from the start-finish area.  Midway through our warmup, we encountered a few people that we knew.  They were run leaders for "In-Training-for-Peachtree" out of Fleet Feet in downtown Decatur, taking a water break midway through their workout.  We chatted for a moment, and then Carl and I headed back to downtown Kirkwood.  The race would begin at the busy intersection of Hosea Williams Drive and Oakview Road.   Runners waited in a nearby park and on the sidewalks adjacent to the start until just a few minutes before the 8:30 am start time.  Suddenly the police closed off a lane of Oakview Road, an inflated "Start" arch was raised, and more than 600 runners poured onto the street.  I wasn't sure quite where to place myself given that I didn't know precisely where the start line was located.  As luck would have it, Carl and I ended up about 100 people behind the starting line.  I suppose I successfully sized up the people around me, finding the sweet spot between the serious greyhound runners up front, and a larger pack of casual fun runners behind.  

We didn't start right at 8:30 am, but a few minutes after, I noticed a man with a megaphone 100 feet in front of the starting arch.  I couldn't hear a word he said, and I assumed that he was giving pre-race instructions.  Suddenly the runners in front took off!  I don't know if Carl noticed at first, he may have even been turned around chatting with someone behind him at the official start, but I didn't hear an airhorn or the report of a starting pistol.  Anyway I started running and didn't see Carl again.  Runners squeezed through the arch over the timing mats onto a single lane of roadway, and I must have gone 100 yards before I could find my pace.  As far as I could tell, no one was trampled.  There were a lot of children in this race.  Early on, I had to watch carefully that I didn't run over any kids, but managed to get through the first half-mile without injuring anyone.  I was running easily.  By the time that we reached the turn from Oakview Road, I was running at an 8:00 min / mile pace, but determined to save my energy for the long uphill stretch to come in mile 2.  

As we turned from Oakview Road onto First Avenue, we ran downhill, and I picked up some speed.  I tried not to over-exert myself and just take advantage of the gravity.  I passed the Mile 1 marker around 7:55 elapsed.  Surprisingly, Carl had not caught up to me.  First Avenue briefly turned into Hillcrest Avenue, the street name foreshadowing the challenge to come on Sisson Avenue.  We've run Sisson Avenue in many Big Peach group runs.  I remembered that it was a long straight road, mostly uphill in the northward direction.  It was a challenge in every group run: now try to imagine running it faster in a race!  Remembering to take shorter steps, I made decent progress up the first hill.  Up and over a crest, I caught a momentary breather.  I didn't realize it at the time, but my heart rate maxxed out as I reached the top of the hill, about 12 minutes into the race.  Typically I can run hard for only one more mile once that happens.  The bad news was, we were only halfway through a 3.11 mile, 5K race route, aiming for a 24 to 25 minute finish.  Somewhere along Sisson Avenue, volunteers offered water.  I held out my hand, barely slowing down as I accepted a cup of water.  I drank the entire cup while running, in three or four gulps, making sure that anything that spilled would land on my shirt, cooling me down just a little.  

Now we were onto the second hill on Sisson Avenue.  The hills weren't that steep, but they were long stretches, rising about 50 feet over a third of a mile.  For the entire race, I had run near the cones in the middle of the road, running the tangents, determined not to cover more than 5000 meters.  Finally I saw in the distance the terminus of Sisson Avenue with College Avenue.  Before making the left turn, there was a little white poodle in the road, running back-and-forth amongst the people!  As I approached, s/he ran to the side of the roadway.  But someone running to my right must have frightened the poor doggy, who suddenly dashed back into the middle of the road, right in front of me!  I barely managed to avoid running over the little poodle.  It could have been very bad for little Fluffy, but I'm not certain that I would have stayed on my feet if I had tripped over the small dog.  

Catastrophe averted, I turned left onto College Avenue, running alongside the MARTA tracks.  I recalled running in the opposite direction in the Publix Georgia Marathons in 2017 and 2018.  Mile 2 elapsed, 16:05 total, meaning that I had covered mile 2 in 8:10.  That wasn't too bad, considering the challenge of the Sisson Avenue hills!  The road wasn't too hilly but I definitely noticed when we ran uphill, and failed to appreciate any downhill sections, although they showed up when I studied the elevation map after the race.  I tried to keep up with the other runners around me, but I was beginning to lose ground on some of them.  A couple of faster and stronger (and thankfully, younger) runners opened up a nice big gap on me.  I would not catch up to them.   We had run about 1/2 mile on College Avenue when the street terminated in a left turn onto Howard Avenue, around 19:30 elapsed.  At the pace that I had run, I probably had only one more kilometer to run.  A father-son couple began to pass me: I put on a little surge to keep up with them.  The father was talking with his son, the son was running well and consistently, while I was simply trying to suck down enough oxygen molecules to keep moving.  Father and son got ahead of me, I put on one more surge to catch up for just a moment, then they seemingly effortlessly opened up a gap that I was not to close.  

As the blocks ticked by, I began to worry that Carl would catch up to me: I quickly looked over my shoulder trying to spy his patriotic running kit: not in sight.  Run, run, run, then against my better judgment I looked again, expecting to see Carl right behind me.  I saw a flash of white: looked again, nope, it wasn't Carl.  Didn't my Mom tell me not to look behind me when I ran?  Advice remembered but not heeded from my childhood five decades ago....  With a block to go, I saw ahead the intersection with Hosea Williams Drive: The End Is Near!  Then I remembered that an hour earlier, I had seen a volunteer put down a Mile 3 marker, AFTER the turn.  I still needed to run more than 0.11 miles, more than a minute to go.   

I began to drunkenly weave in the roadway: not much further, don't add any unnecessary steps.  Finally I made the turn onto Hosea Williams Drive.  As I passed the mile 3 marker, a quick glance at my watch showed 24 minutes and some seconds.  Checking my Garmin data afterwards, that was 24:13 elapsed, an 8:08 mile according to my Garmin stats.   OOOh, I won't break 25 minutes unless I can really hustle.  I tried to speed up, but a couple of young runners blew past me, followed by a man pushing a stroller.  One more left turn onto Kirkwood Avenue, and there was the Finish Line!  Just a couple dozen more steps, and over the timing mat.  25:09 official - and I had finished ahead of Carl!  

I didn't have the toughness needed to break 25 minutes.
If I had, maybe I would have won the age group!

Whew, that was hard work.  I could not have maintained that pace more than a few steps beyond the finish line, but I guess I managed the 5.00 kilometer distance just right, considering that my slowest mile split was 8:10, even with the hills.  Carl crossed the finish line exactly one minute later.  He didn't look tired at all, as he immediately congratulated me on my race.  I was still out of breath, but slowly regained my equilibrium over the next few minutes.  

After I picked up a bottle of water, I walked over to a tent where Carl was viewing the results, projected on a large screen.  The winner was a 46-year-old man who finished in 18:03, under a 6 minute / mile pace.  As the results scrolled down, I saw a few 50-year old men with fast times posted, then a 54-year old in 22:28 (24th place).  The results scrolled through the 24 minute finishers: "Carl, no one older than 54 so far!"  Then at 25:02, a 60-year-old man in 72nd place, and then my name at 25:09, 56-year-old, 76st place.  "Carl, I was beaten by a 60-year-old, but it looks like I got second!  I missed first place by just 7 seconds!"  Carl's name followed at 26:09, in 102nd place.  We weren't sure of his placement in the first pass, but I watched again more carefully as the results scrolled by again, confirming my second-place age group finish, and Carl was third! 

The awards were small plaques glued onto a railroad spike!  Our age group was the very last one called, men ages 55 and above.  When they called Carl's name for third, and then mine for second, I was beaming, with a huge smile acknowledging the applause.  The spike was surprisingly heavy - ergo, an authentic iron spike.  It's an unusual award but memorable, and perfectly appropriate, given the history of Kirkwood as a streetcar suburb!  

May 11, 2019: The Tucker Road Race 5K

In the past week, I've read Martin Dugard's "To Be A Runner," after listening to the Rogue Running podcast with the author.  This is a collection of short stories about his various running experiences, from Pamplona and Paris, London and Saipan, Borneo and his home turf on the California coast.  He writes beautifully and passionately about running.  I can almost feel the lactate burning in the legs as I read some of Dugard's accounts.  He has a chapter entitled simply, "HILLS"  Quoting liberally: 

"Hills are a fact of life."

"A guy like me ... needs hills the way I need the love of a strong woman.

They kick my ass, keep me honest, and make me a better man.

They complete me."

Great turnout from Tucker Runing Club.  I'm in the center,
wearing the shirt with the original logo.
That was the clean TRC shirt in my collection. 

The Tucker Road Race was heavily advertised this year, with over 300 participants in the race.  With that large of a group, I didn't expect a chance to win anything.  Before the start, I saw the eventual #1 and #2 finishers chatting, ages 62 and 57, respectively.  There are a lot of fast runners in Tucker!  It must be all the hill training .... 

"No matter if I am fit, fat, tired, exhausted, fresh, or thinking thoughts that take me a thousand miles away, the hill will have its way with me."

My plan for the race was to simply coast for the first mile or so, treating this as a 2-mile race.  As we ran out of the Tucker High School parking lot onto Chamblee-Tucker Road, I knew that the first mile was mostly level, following Chamblee-Tucker Road along the Eastern Continental Divide.  My pace stayed around 8:00 / mile, and my heart rate in the low 140s.  About six minutes into the race, we turned right onto Smithsonia Drive, and after 100 meters or so, plunged downhill toward Lucky Shoals Creek, passing the 1-mile marker on the way down, 7:52 elapsed.  Near the bottom of the hill, I remembered Dugard's advice: 

"Ten quick steps" 

The hill loomed overhead, but Dugard's words were a mantra.  They focused my mind on the process rather than the challenge.  My cadence picked up as I began to power up the hill.  Just ahead of me I saw TRC member Roxana Allen, then 100 feet in front was TRC founder Curtis Walker, and in the distance, TRC regular and Boston Marathon veteran Elizabeth Mann working her way up the hill.  

1.1 miles in: now my race began.  I had no illusions about catching up to Curt or Liz, but midway up the hill I passed Roxie, with some regret.  I say regret, because in a TRC group run on Wednesday evening, in 80 degree heat, I slowed to a walk after about 5 miles, and Roxie caught up to me.  She slowed to ask if I was OK, then walked for a moment to ask again.  I assured her that I was fine, I just didn't need to run any further that evening.  I had appreciated her kindness to ensure that I wasn't in distress.  Having passed Roxie today, I certainly didn't want to fall off the pace again.   

"You take the fight to the hill at a time when the natural tendency is to slow down..."

Reaching the top of the hill as we turned left onto Goodfellows Road, I caught my breath for a moment.  There was a water station, but in this race I didn't stop.  Had I just gained a bit of ground on Curt Walker, could it be true?  Turning right onto Spring Glen for one short block, we may have run just a bit downhill before we turned right, onto Old Norcross Road.  

This is a narrow two-lane road without sidewalks, along my usual commute to-and-from work, with a 35 mph speed limit that is easily forgotten.  I often say, "I've run this exactly once!"  Because of the absence of sidewalks, I won't - I should say, I can't safely run into downtown Tucker from my home.  But for today, one lane is protected from the world.  

And then I passed Curt Walker, probably only the second time ever that this has ever happened in a race.  Thanks to Martin Dugard, for inspiring me up that first hill.  But I knew that Curt would try to catch me if he could, so I dared not slow down.  

Enjoying a long run along Old Norcross Road, now ever so gently uphill, I caught up to and then passed Liz Mann near the mile 2 marker.  My pace was a little slower, 8:14 for mile 2, but having climbed 100 feet from Lucky Shoals Creek, I was very satisfied with my progress.  Turning right onto Pine Lake Road, I prepared myself to battle more hills.  But I had remembered the route imperfectly: we first headed downhill onto Park Drive, toward the pond called Cofer Lake, where Lucky Shoals Creek begins its long journey to contribute its waters to the Savannah River.   At a second water station, a runner that I had noticed earlier walking far ahead of me had stopped altogether as he drank down a cup of water.  Before I caught up to him, he began running again.  Now there were three people around me or just in front of me, the run-walker, a woman wearing an orange top, and a man wearing a Chickamauga Half-Marathon shirt.  I threw in a short surge as we ran up a 50-foot hill, and momentarily got in front of the woman and Mr. Chickamauga.  But then I fell back to regular speed, and the orange woman and the Chickamauga man passed me.  They were running strongly, and I decided not to try to catch them.  

"Hills are the scourge of the running world, a place of private inward pain and challenges where all runners are equal, forced by the incline and their own relative fitness to become a better version of themselves on their journey to the top."

The run-walker was walking again!  I was struggling, but somewhere along Ball Park Road, with less than a half-mile to the finish, I passed Mr. Run-Walk.  Then he surged to catch up with me.  Now we're running together.  I'm regretting not run-walking myself.  He had a second or a third wind, I was nearly out of my first wind.  A quick look at my watch as mile 3 signaled showed 8:25, 24:30 for the race.  I couldn't reach my typical goal of 25 minutes for the race.  I started to let off the gas, as the run-walker pulled ahead on another little uphill section that had 

"The lungs begging for an extra scrap of oxygen..."

I felt familiar disappointment knowing that I had run four good kilometers, but couldn't maintain a quality fifth kilometer.  Then I saw the last turn, not much further to the finish line.  I heard people ahead cheering, TRC member Angela Haertel shouted "Go Frank!"   And just 100 feet from the finish, the run-walker faltered.  

He must not have read the book.  

"And then, of course, it was on." 

I surged forward, and was immediately rewarded by halving the distance between us.  I thought "I just need to get to the finish line", and I surged again.  A friend shouted "You're going to catch him!" or maybe it was a foe: "He's going to catch you!"  I don't quite recall what I heard, friend or foe, but one more surge propelled me past him, as I flew through the finish chute, a second ahead of my competitor.

    

Thanks to the race organizers for the free finish line photos,
recording my glorious completion!

25:43 on the clock, 25:34 official.  And although I didn't achieve the 25 minute goal, I was pleased overall to have run a fairly steady race, holding back enough in the first mile to push myself through the last mile.  

Bronze medal!!

The effort was good enough for another third-place age group award!  Thanks to Martin Dugard for today's inspiration!  

May 4, 2019: Go Loco 5K

This weekend I had at least four races to choose from, including a race in College Park (south suburban Atlanta) and the Book Mobile 5K in Peachtree Corners (northeast suburbs).  I nearly signed up for the Quarry Crusher in Norcross, which I ran two years ago, 660 feet down into the quarry and then back out, for a 3.8 mile run.  Then I checked the weather forecast, right before I entered my credit card information, and saw a high chance of thunderstorms.  I decided to wait until race day to register for anything.  As a fair-weather runner, I didn't want to pay to run in the rain.  

On Thursday evening I ran with Big Peach Running Company in Decatur, for a nice 4-1/2 mile jaunt on a warm evening shortly before sunset.  Carl Line, a regular at the Big Peach group runs and a fellow age grouper, told me that he was running the 5K in the Locomotive series in Kennesaw (northwest suburbs).  He has run quite a few of their races, which features a series of four races progressing from 5K, 10K, 15K, and a half-marathon in December.  After I looked up the information online, and found a USATF map correlating to the likely route, the route didn't look too hilly, only a 9.2 meter range from high to low.  That's only about 30 feet, right?  I decided that was a better choice, to keep my legs healthy.  

Hmmm, Barrett "Summit".  And it's not a hilly course? 

When I awoke this morning, the weather looked promising, with the first chance of rain after 9 am in Kennesaw, perfect for an 8 am start.  At 6 am in the morning, I only needed about 35 minutes to reach the race site, even though it was 30 miles from the house.  On-site registration was simple.  After some dynamic stretches, Carl and I took a 1.2-mile reconnaissance of the main loop for the race.  This part of the route was on the streets surrounding an office complex, which had almost no traffic at all at 7 am on Saturday morning.  It wasn't flat, because nothing in metro-Atlanta outside of an oval track is flat, but the gentle rolling hills were the type of terrain that I'm accustomed to running.  It was warm, however, and felt quite humid, as it had rained a little last night.  At least I've run several warm evening workouts in the past two weeks, so I'm getting acclimated to running in warmer weather.  It was only partly cloudy, so I wore sunglasses.  

66 degrees wasn't bad for May, but the 94% humidity was real!

After watching the 1K race - which actually had more adults than children running - I did another 1/2-mile warmup on my own, working in a couple of strides, perfectly paced the porta-potty race, and then joined Carl at the start.  He had warned me earlier that it wasn't a chip start and there might be quite a few children in the race, and so he lined up near the front, and I lined up a couple of people behind him.  I called out "Carl, you'll be my pacer today!" and he called out "You might outrun me."  "It's only happened once" I replied, which is true.  

The 1K winner approaches the finish line, about 4 minutes after starting. 

Will I pass any of these people?

Who in this larger group will pass me? 

We counted down from 10 seconds, I started my watch one second early, and we were off.  I resolved to run the first mile at a steady pace.  As with last week's 4-miler, I planned to run 30 second surges starting at 7:30 elapsed, then return to steady pace for 90 seconds, and repeat for the rest of the race.  I was moving pretty well as we left the parking area of the office complex for a gradual but long downhill section.  Carl was probably about 50 feet ahead of me, and I resolved to try to keep that distance from growing, but didn't try to catch up, not wanting to burn out too early.  As the road leveled out and then back on a gentle uphill, I dialed back my speed a bit to just under an 8 minute / mile pace.  

Shortly after completing mile 1.
Courtesy of TrueSpeedPhoto.com

The first mile passed quickly.  As the mile 1 marker came within sight, my watch signaled 7:30: time for the first surge!  I moved strongly past a couple of runners, then settled back down at the 8:00 minute mark.  And I had finished mile 1 in 7:38.  That's close to my 5K personal best pace (7:34 min / mile).  I continued passing other runners, just hoping that I wouldn't see them again later in the race.  The distance between Carl and me had grown a little more, and I wasn't sure that I could catch up to him.  I knew with his experience, he wouldn't bonk in a 5K, so I would have to earn everything on my own if I gained any ground on him.  At 9:30 elapsed, I threw in another surge, turning into the parking lot near the end of the first loop.  At 10:00, I decided to take a very short walk break through the water station.  I think only one person passed me there.  I tried to empty the cup while resuming running without choking and dropping the cup into the trash barrel.  I missed the barrel but everything else was OK.  We were running through the empty parking lot on the opposite side of the buildings from the start/finish line, and I kept a steady pace, making another short surge at 11:30 on level ground, and again at 13:30 heading downhill.  (I was able to see the little upward blips on the Garmin data afterwards!).  The second mile was tougher.  I reached the mile 2 marker at the crest of the hill.  I hadn't imagined that 30 feet elevation over a quarter-mile would be tough, but afterwards I saw that my heart rate had maxxed out at that point.  I had already been running "hot" for most of the past mile, although I wasn't focusing enough on my watch at this point.  7:58 for mile 2, 15:36 elapsed.  Just 1.11 miles to go!  

At 2.00 miles: speed vs. heart rate (above),
elevation vs. speed (below).

Mind-over-matter pushed me to maintain my pace.  A pre-teen boy with a green shirt was just ahead of me.  Carl was out of mind if not quite out of sight, but now I just wanted to pass the kid.  I caught up to him with another surge at 17:30 while heading downhill, but then he caught up again and passed me.  I was breathing so hard, I might have terrified him if I had gotten any closer, so I stayed to his left while I was just behind.  At 19:30 I surged again, on a little tiny uphill section, whew!  The boy just kept moving!  That must have been the 4 kilometer point, just 1 kilometer to go.  But now I was struggling.  I can see now on the Garmin graphs how I had gradually slowed, except for the surges, which were not as strong as they had been 10 minutes earlier.  At 21:00 I reached the water station for the second time, but didn't take water or slow down at all.  The boy stopped for a cup, I moved ahead!  At 21:30, on level ground, I surged again.  But the boy passed me, completely rejuvenated by an ounce or two of water and a walk break of no more than a few seconds.  Oh, to be young again!  And now, there was another boy wearing blue that I hadn't noticed before.  They were racing each other.  To the boys, I was out of sight, out of mind.  For me, I just needed to reach the finish line.  The watch signaled 23:30, I thought I surged but the Garmin only shows that here I was at my slowest speed other than the walk break: 6.7 mph.  I know, that isn't a bad pace at all, and especially compared to where I was five years ago.  As I turned back onto the main drag of the parking lot, the mile 3 alert sounded, 8:19 and 23:55 elapsed.  

And there was the finish line!  But     

So      

Far      

Away!  

Approaching the finish.
I look better than I felt.
Courtesy of TrueSpeedPhoto.com

Nevertheless, this time I found a higher gear, 24:30, getting closer, 24:50, can I get to the finish within 10 seconds?  I sped up some more to dash through the finish line, seeing 25:02 on the clock, which was my official time.  The announcer called my name, I raised my hand to acknowledge, and only then remembered to turn off my watch.  I picked up and drained down a cup of water, then had to walk around the parking lot for a couple of moments to regain some equilibrium.  After a few moments my heart had slowed enough to find Carl and congratulate him, and after a banana and more water, I set out for an easy 1-mile cooldown.  

By the time that I had returned, the results were posted, and I learned that I was 26th out of 290 overall, third in the 55-59 age group!  Carl was second, about 45 seconds ahead of me, and he finished less than 15 seconds behind first place in our age group!  But afterwards I saw that the overall male winner was 58, and the first place male masters went to a 57-year-old.  To avoid doubling up on prizes, the first place age group was actually the third finisher in the 55-59 range, so I was fifth in my age group.  Nonetheless this was a nice surprise.  I never expect to place unless the race is very small, and was delighted to accept my third place age group medal, with Carl's name announced immediately after mine.   The overall winner was a woman in her mid-30's, the only runner to finish in less than 20 minutes. 

3rd place (above)
With Carl in 2nd place (below)

Once again, my legs felt good.  My conditioning needs some work, but that should improve if I can lose a few pounds while gaining strength this summer.  

I really like the shirt, although it's the first
running shirt that I've received with buttons!

Everything about this race was done well, and it was definitely worth the drive - and would have been so even if I had not won anything.  The course was exactly as advertised, 3.15 miles on my watch with 30 foot elevation changes.  The cones clearly protected and directed the route, and the water station was manned to the very last runner/walker, with plenty for everyone on a warm morning.  If there were any cars, I never noticed them getting close to the course.  I'll come back for the 10K and 15K races in June and September, respectively!