Hotlanta has been exactly that this summer. Two weeks past the autumn equinox, it's still far too warm. I can't call it fall season, when yesterday afternoon's high temperature was 97 degrees F. I've trained through this unusually hot weather, moving most of my runs to the early morning hours, but lately those temperatures have dropped no lower than the low-70's. Nonetheless I had a good workout Tuesday evening with Coach Carl's group on the track at Emory University. In a lactate threshold workout: 16 x 400 meter laps at a goal pace of 2:05 per lap, then resting 30 seconds between laps: I ran every lap consistently, between 2:00 to 2:05, despite 90 degree temperatures.
Today's half-marathon was my 25th overall, but only my third of 2019. A muscle strain hampered my performance in the Publix Atlanta Half-Marathon in March, and I suffered with the altitude at the Jackson Hole Half in June. In today's race, the 75 degree F temperature would be the likely culprit. I had originally had this as a "goal" race in my training program, but without cooler temperature, it wasn't realistic to try for a new personal record. A finish under 2 hours was probably too much to hope for, but I wanted to run as close to that goal as possible.
I left the house around 5:30 am, 90 minutes before the 7:00 am start time. Actually, it was closer to 5:40 am because I ran back into the house to empty my bladder one last time. Google Maps predicted 30 minute travel time. But getting off of Langford Parkway at 6:10 am, it took me nearly 50 minutes to travel the last half-mile to the parking lot. While I was stuck in traffic, my bladder began to protest again. I could hear the race announcer call "T - minus 7 minutes" as my car crawled through the final block. Finally I made it to the parking lot entrance "T - minus 4 minutes", the parking attendants waved me to the back of the lot. I pulled into one of the last available parking places at 6:58 am, grabbed my stuff including a large hand-held water bottle, and looked for the porta-potties. They were between my car and the starting line - but there was a long line of people waiting - the 5K runners wouldn't begin until 7:15 am. "The Race begins in 45 seconds!" I dashed to the starting area while syncing my watch, ducked under the rope for my corral, next to the 2:15 pace group, and the announcer started The Race. No warmup, no stretching, just running.
It was a good thing that my plan was to simply stick with the 2:15 pacers for the first mile, as we slowly worked our way over a giant hill on Sylvan Road. The pacers were Angie O'Neal and Bob Wells, both age 50-something runners, and David Bloomquist was also running near that group at the beginning. I thought about ducking into one of the gas stations near Langford Parkway for a quick bathroom break, but decided that I could run for awhile without relieving myself. I stayed with the 2:15 pace group for the first mile, although we covered that a little quickly, at 9:38. I probably should have stuck with them for a little longer, but after the first mile marker, I moved in front, covering mile 2 in 9:11, and mile 3 in 8:50. At the last minute, I had debated leaving the hand-held water bottle at the car and just relying on a bottle of Nuun on my running belt along with the aid stations, but after I noticed dryness in my throat early in mile 2, I was happy to have my own water. Unfortunately I had to balance quenching my thirst against adding more pressure on my bladder, and spit out most of that first sip.
As the sun rose around 7:30 am, my legs still felt good. On occasion there was a nice breeze that made it feel a little cooler than the reported temperature of 75 degrees. Every time that I checked my heart rate on my watch, I saw 150 - 160 bpm, but when I checked my stats after the race, it had averaged mid-160 bpm after mile 3. Nonetheless I felt good overall. I was trying to ignore the discomfort in my bladder. The first of several bands were playing as I approached the mile 4 marker. In a segment of mile 5 near Spelman College where we paralleled the faster runners in their mile 6, I enjoyed congratulating and encouraging the other runners - and in that section spotted my Dean, Michael Elliott, on his way to a 1:46 finish. I passed the intersection where I was nearly hit by a car in a late August race: today I observed that the police did an excellent job protecting the race course from cars on the street, from start to finish. I ran miles 4 and 5 in 8:46 and 8:49, finishing mile 5 in 45:14, on pace for a finish just under 2 hours. The mile 5 marker was near the high altitude point of the route, so it should be a little easier heading back to the start-finish area. I wondered, how long can I keep this up?
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| Lots of hills. It's Atlanta. |
The answer: about 8 miles, finishing 6, 7, and 8 in 8:54, 9:08, and 9:30. Despite some downhill sections in those miles, I began slowing down. I tried to relax, use the mantra "trust your training" and keep a positive mind-set. Unfortunately my heart rate averaged in the mid- to high-160's, and my bladder continued to bother me. As we turned onto the Westside Beltline, which I had looked forward to running for miles 9 and 10, my pace continued to slow. I needed 10:00 for mile 9. We then headed uphill in a two-block departure from the Beltline, and I took my first substantial walk break. I gave up on trying for sub-2 hours at that point. For the rest of The Race, it was just about getting to the finish line. However, there were a few highlights in this section. Another band perked me up for a moment as we returned to the Beltline. Nevertheless, finishing mile 10 in 10:56, 1:33:42 overall, was a big disappointment. Could I get to the finish line, just 5K away, in 26 minutes? Not today, not after the last difficult miles. Thinking ahead to the goal for my next race, the Atlanta 10-Miler race in two weeks, a sub-1:30 finish didn't seem very realistic at this moment.
We left the Beltline at the mile 10 cheering station with support from Girls on the Run, returning to the streets. Jennifer Akor, who also trains with Coach Carl, worked at one of the water stops in this section, and few minutes later, Tommy Daniels, who I had met at the Boston Half-Marathon a couple of years ago, cheered me onward. In an out-and-back section, I saw David Bloomquist less than a minute behind me. I thought, I'm moving so slowly now that he will catch up to me very soon. Plenty of other people were passing me. A blister was forming on my left big toe. Volunteers and police kept calling out "You're looking great!" I guess they were looking at whichever runner was passing me in that moment, because I certainly didn't feel great.
I felt bad.
Not about to collapse bad, not about to vomit bad, but just -
not enjoying myself bad.
I remembered hearing a few years ago that 75% of elite runners pee themselves while they run. I was wearing black shorts and they were already soaked wet with my sweat ... but no, I'm not an elite runner. And everyone would notice the odor. Everyone. So I kept holding it in. Mile 11, 11:09. Did I mention that I had given up on any goals by this stage? Finishing, that was the only goal. If I finished without peeing myself or stopping along the way, bonus points. At least we had turned back onto Sylvan Road, the same road where we had begun an hour and 45 minutes ago. It was a straight shot from here, until one last turn right before the finish line. 2.11 miles away. Porta-potty 2.12 miles away. And we still had to run up and down several more hills. The breeze that I had welcomed earlier in the morning now chilled me through my sweat-soaked clothes. Mile 12, 11:12.
With just 1.11 miles to go, I began to push myself a little bit, especially on level and downhill sections. With all of the walk breaks that I had taken in the past three miles, my heart rate was down to a more reasonable level, averaging mid-150 bpm. I along with most of the others around me still needed walk breaks in the uphill sections. A few people passed me, but I found that for the most part I caught up or kept up when I resumed running. Around the time that my watch read two hours elapsed, I saw Langford Parkway up ahead. Up. Overhead. Near the top of a big hill. Fortunately there were quite a few cheer groups along Sylvan Road. I passed through the intersection where I had waited in traffic in my car at 6:30 am, knowing from Google Maps that I had just 0.5 miles to get to the finish. One last walk break in the Langford Parkway underpass, and then I began running uphill through the Reggae Runnerz cheer group. David Bloomquist caught up with me by this point, and had moved just ahead.
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| The short version of my race. The rotated chart shows how nicely I progressed in the first several miles, then gradually fell off the pace through mile 9, and more substantially in miles 10 - 12, then picked it up a bit in mile 13 and finished surprisingly strongly. |
As my watch signalled mile 13 in 10:37, I began running a little faster. Actually a lot faster. I don't know where that reserve of energy or speed came from. I guess the speed workouts with Coach Carl gave me the turnover that I needed. Maybe it was because I could reach the porta-potty sooner if I ran a little faster. As we neared the last turn, I sped up some more, passing David and a teenage runner who had passed me a couple of miles back. David responded with his own burst of speed, which I could not answer. Running down the long finishing chute, very very long, at least I knew that I would break 2:09 chip time. Someone shouted encouragement to me to catch up to David, but I didn't have the will or the energy to do so. But no one else passed me. Finally I crossed the finish line, 2:09:00 on the clock, 2:08:30 chip time. I looked up with relief, stumbled to the line of volunteers handing out medals and let a man drape the medal over my head. And then I walked to the nearest porta-potty, congratulating David as I passed by.
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| Nice medal. |
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| I felt good enough to smile about 10 minutes after finishing. |
I thought, "what a relief" as I emptied a bladder that had plagued me for close to three hours. But the blister on my toe really hurt, my calves were very tight, even my right shoulder ached. I returned to the finish area to watch others complete The Race, but couldn't muster any energy to cheer for them. After a few minutes I headed to my car to change into dry clothes, and to drive home. Even going out of the way to avoid crossing the race route, it only took me 35 minutes to get home. And I barely kept up to 55 mph on the interstate highway, as I really had to concentrate on the drive home, as I was really tired.
When I checked the results a few hours later, I was shocked: I placed second in my age group!! 2nd out of 22 male age 55 - 59 finishers! Perhaps I shouldn't have been too disappointed in my overall performance, as I was 156th out of 736 finishers. I guess the warm temperature bothered a lot of people - or perhaps it was just a matter of who showed up for this particular race. I also realized when I checked Athlinks that it was my best half-marathon for 2019, so far.
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| Age group result (above) My position in the overall standings, along with 10K and 15K splits (below) |
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