June 28, 2020: Atlanta Track Club Grand Prix 400 meter road race

A couple of weeks ago, the Atlanta Track Club sent an announcement about their first in-person running event since the marathon on March 1.  This race was a 400 meter road race on Armour Drive in front of the Atlanta Track Club office, implementing safety measures such as racing by appointment, limited to 4 at a time.  After dithering a day or two, I signed up (there were only about 150 spots available).  I was hoping for an early morning appointment, but turns out that all of the running was between 4 pm - 7 pm, in the heat of the afternoon, so I signed up for a 5:00 pm appointment. 

I arrived and parked on Ottley Drive around 4:40 pm, parallel to Armour Drive (which was blocked with cones).  After applying a little sunscreen, I warmed up with about 3/4 of a mile.  I didn't want to wear the good mask that I use for work, so I wore a makeshift face covering created from an old Publix Marathon cooling towel and a couple of Bonnie's hair bands, following a demo that I saw Sanjay Gupta present on CNN in the early weeks of the pandemic shutdown.  

Dr. Sanjay Gupta at his home (above)
Dr. Frank McDonald at his home (below)

It was difficult to run with a face covering.  I was conscious of sucking in the layers of fabric with each inhalation, and was glad that I wouldn't have to wear the face covering while running the race.  It was great to see other runners from a distance, although I had trouble recognizing some through the masks.  

I had mis-remembered my race start appointment!  I thought that it was shortly after 5 pm, but turns out that my appointment was at 5:00 on the dot.  By the time I had picked up my number, at the Atlanta Track Club office 300 meters from the starting line, it was 4:57 pm!  I quickly jogged down the road and arrived at the starting line a few seconds before 4:59 pm.  I hardly had a chance to cool down, but maybe that was a good thing.  I was delighted to see that Bob Wells was running in the same heat!  Bob is a tireless fan of runners and running in general.  We're in the same age group, perhaps one year apart, and with similar abilities, although Bob is coming back from an injury.  

This was the start line for one of the subsequent heats.
See the clock on the grass to the left of the road?
Just four runners lined up about six feet apart,
and Enrique Tomas as the official starter. 

30 seconds to go: I stepped up to the orange line painted on the road, reviewed in my mind the race strategy in 100 meter increments - PUSH - PACE - POWER - PRAY!  

10 seconds to go, then 5 seconds to go, and oops! I'm still wearing my face covering!  I whipped off the face covering and stuffed it in my running belt, just in time.  5:00:00 and the air horn sounded, and we were off!  

PUSH:  The man to my right took off like lightning out of a bottle.  He quickly pushed away, out of sight and out of my mind.  Bob and I were running at a similar pace, Bob immediately to my left.  A woman was running directly behind me.  I felt good, not running too hard, but off to a decent start, I thought. 

PACE:  After what I thought was about 100 meters, I settled into what felt like a pretty easy, automatic "float" pace.  Bob pulled ahead of me by a few meters, running very well.  We approached the man who typically handles the starting pistol at track meets, I don't know his name, but I had established on my way to the start that he was sitting at the 200 meter mark. 

POWER:  Time to re-invest in the race: I picked up the pace just a bit, began pumping my arms, and caught up to and passed Bob.  Running strong, I could begin to see the finish line clock in the distance.  Time for the last phase - 

PRAY!  I tried to kick into high gear but didn't seem to speed up.  Passing the track club office, a woman shouts "125 meters to go!"  

Error, error, error: I had begun to PRAY too soon.  

There's a first time for everything, I thought.  

My energy was fading.  I could hear Bob's footsteps just behind me and to my left, but I was really tiring.  I thought of the video of the coach describing runners vomiting after finishing the 400 meter race: fortunately my stomach was not upset, but I really had to push myself to get through the finish line.  

To my surprise, I glimpsed 1:25 as I hit the orange line marking the finish.  Whew, that was tough!  I probably could have run that just a little better, especially if I had arrived at the start line more than 60 seconds before the race began. 

Edit June 29: official time 1:25:84, 3rd out of 8 in my age group! 

The finish line clock right before the beginning of the next heat.

Bob congratulated me on my race - thanks Bob!  I could hardly breathe, as I had given so much effort.  But after a couple of minutes, my breathing slowed, and I could put the face covering back on.  

I set my Garmin watch on autopause, so it would start when I began running.
It looks like I maintained faster than 10 mph speed in the POWER phase,
but slowed a bit just below 10 mph in the last 100 - 125 meters. 

Looking back down the race course.
Although it was a warm afternoon, 88 deg F, the entire route was nicely shaded. 

Coming up: a solo 10K on or around Independence Day in lieu of the Peachtree Road Race.

Then: three official Atlanta Track Club socially distanced races on three consecutive Saturdays, the "Publix Summer Series".  I've registered for the 7:33 am start times for:

July 18: 1 mile

July 25: 5K

August 1: 8K

I wasn't sure what to expect with this format, but it was nice to race against others and to do so while maintaining safe distance.  I'm looking forward to the Publix Summer Series!  

June 20, 2020: The Monday Nighter 10K, social distancing edition

Runningnerds / Run Social Atlanta has hosted the Monday Nighter 10K for the past few years, literally on the Monday evening before the summer solstice.  I've run this race in 2018 and 2019, suffering through the heat to finish with times of 1:05:20 and 59:33, respectively.  This year's options were virtual races, either a 10K to replace the June Monday Nighter race, or a 5K to replace the Urbantree Cidery on Memorial Day. 

I was excited about running a 10K race, as my last 10K was the Eastside Beltline in December 2019, but there was no way that I was running in the heat if I could avoid doing so.  Even though today was the summer solstice, the temperature at sunrise was a pleasant 63 degrees F.  Originally I planned to run 25 loops on the 400 meter flat track at Tucker Middle School, but on Thursday night Bonnie told me about a Gwinnett County park that she had recently discovered, Bryson Park in Lilburn.  I checked it out yesterday morning during a short shake-out run, and it had a lot going for it:

• not too crowded; 
• beautiful location within a few miles of the house; and
• manageable elevation profile - certainly not flat, but not as hilly as Lucky Shoals Park or the hills in my neighborhood. 

I mapped out a route in the park that I thought would keep things mentally interesting and physically doable: five circuits of the "stadium loop" alternating with four circuits of the hillier "forest loop", going back and forth on a "connector" between each loop.  To keep things a little more interesting, I would alternate directions on each loop.  I also set the start point near the highest park of the park, so that my race would finish on a downhill stretch, and the overall route would be overall downhill.  

After an easy 1.36 mile warmup covering an entire circuit of the route, concluding with two strides to ensure that I was fully awake, I lined up to start the virtual race on a straight pathway through the parking lot:

I must have taken this photo at the beginning of my warmup,
coinciding with 6:25 am sunrise!  63 degrees F

At 6:45 am on the dot, I was off and running!  Beginning the first stadium loop in a counter-clockwise direction, I deliberately slowed down, remembering to pace myself carefully through the first couple of miles.  Coach Carl had recommended starting out as a "tempo run", approximately half-marathon race pace, about 9 minutes per mile, or 5:30 per kilometer as my watch was set to metric units for this run.  I was looking straight into the sun, glad to have sunglasses.  I had opted to run without a cap to avoid overheating, and was hoping that wasn't a bad decision.  Anyway the first loop passed quickly and I was out and onto the connector.  This sloped gently uphill to pass the retaining wall for a basketball court, and then sloped gently downhill to the beginning of the forest loop.  I turned right to run in a counter-clockwise direction, passing a playground and then heading downhill into the forest.    

This part of the route had a few curves, so I ran downhill fairly cautiously, reaching a bridge crossing a slope stretching down to Jackson Creek in the distance, although I couldn't see it for the trees.  Coming off of the bridge at the lowest part of my race route, I made a left turn onto the sidewalk paralleling Jennifer Drive, for 200 meters running steadily uphill.  "Take it easy," I told myself, as I thought that this was the harder direction for the loop.

Loooooong uphill

Turning right onto the connector, I maintained a steady pace to complete the first circuit, 1.37 miles / 2.20 km in 12:30, 9:07 min / mile or 5:41 min / km, pretty close to the race plan.   For the second circuit, I ran the stadium loop clockwise.  Once again the sun was in my face, now on the north side of the stadium.  That was unavoidable no matter where I would run this morning, but it was the one downside of running on a beautifully clear early summer morning.  Nonetheless I felt pretty good, and thought about turning up the speed ever so slightly, especially heading down a gentle slope.  Although the stadium loop was not flat, in fact showing  35 feet elevation drop from the west side to the east side, I never needed to work too hard while I was running uphill.  

Bryson Park hosts several youth football teams,
both soccer and American-style football.
All play is on hold during the coronavirus pandemic. 

Back onto the connector, and then left to run the forest loop in the clockwise direction.  I didn't pick up that much speed running downhill, but definitely felt the effort level decrease.  That was good because after crossing the bridge, I had to climb nearly 60 feet to the playground level along a twisting route.  But in my opinion, this was indeed the easier direction to run, because I could let things go while running a straight path downhill, and when I needed to watch my step running turns while heading uphill, I wasn't running that fast anyway, so nothing was lost due to the turns.  

Although it rained a little yesterday evening, the surface wasn't slippery.

Finishing the loop, right turn onto the connector, and racing back to the starting area, 24:45 elapsed, 12:15 for the second circuit, 8:56 min / mile or 5:34 min / km.  Was I faster on purpose or was it because the second circuit was a little easier?  I began the third circuit taking on the stadium loop in the counter-clockwise direction.  The 5 kilometer alert sounded as I completed the loop, 27:57 (8:59 min / mile or 5:35 min / km).  Already halfway done!  Might I try to speed up a little?  I noticed for the first time the rise in the connector but then gained momentary relief heading downhill, before turning right onto the forest loop.  

Even though this was downhill, I couldn't run it very quickly with the turns. 

Running counter-clockwise, winding downhill through the turns and over the bridge, then back to run the long uphill to finish the third forest loop.  This time was more difficult.  I really wanted to take a walk break, but fought off the temptation.  The problem was that turning left onto the connector, I still had to run uphill some more, until passing the basketball court.  I was thinking that I really should have stayed with my earlier plan to run on the delightfully flat track.  Bonnie was right about the pleasant environment of the park, but she was wrong about the hills, especially on the forest loop.  Surely I could run faster and more easily if I didn't have to deal with these hills.  But then I reflected on the marital advice that I heard years ago - and advice that I've freely shared since, on men and marriage: 

"A man can be right, or a man can be happy. 

But he can't be both right and happy."   

I've generally opted for the "happy" choice over 10 years of wonderful marriage to Bonnie.  And I was "happy" to crest the hill on the connector on the way to finishing the third circuit.

As there were a few sidewalks to choose from on the return route,
I was glad to have noticed the fire hydrant as a landmark on the first circuit.
By the end of the third circuit, sweat was running down my sunglasses,
 making it difficult to distinguish between sidewalks.

I reached the start line at 37:00 elapsed, another 12:15 circuit although I didn't realize it during the race.  So I managed the same speed even though I ran the third circuit in the more difficult direction!   Running the stadium loop clockwise, I heard the 7 km alert: 39:04.  I've run 3 km in less than 14 minutes.  But it was cold that evening, and I had not run 7 km before that time trial, about 3-1/2 years ago at the beginning of a marathon training program.  So 53 minutes wasn't realistic, but what about 55 minutes?  

I ran onto the connector, then turned left to start the forest loop downhill.  Again I didn't feel like I picked up much speed, but I definitely enjoyed a little rest break while letting gravity do the hard work.  As I crossed the bridge, I heard the 8 km alert: 44:19 elapsed.  Kilometer 8 was my fastest of the race so far, 5:15, having run an average pace of 5:32 min / km to this stage.  But running uphill to the playground was a real slog.  I was so tired: why didn't I sign up for a 5-mile virtual race?  I would be done by now.  I cheered up as I recognized that was my last time around the challenging forest loop.  

From the forest loop looking up to the left turn that I would make onto the connector.
Definitely uphill. 

"(Because I'm happy) Clap along, if you feel like that's what you wanna do" 

(Pharrell Williams) 

And upon completing the fourth circuit, my watch showed 49:05 elapsed, which meant that I had run the last full circuit as the fastest, 12:05 (8:49 min / mile or 5:30 min / km).  But running the last stadium loop in the counter-clockwise direction gave me a little disappointing news at the 9 km alert: 50:04 elapsed.  I needed a sub-5 minute final kilometer to finish in less than 55 minutes.  I didn't know if that was possible.  On the other hand, a kilometer is much shorter than a mile.  Thinking "just 5 more minutes", I began to push my effort as I ran around the stadium loop, then onto the connector.  

For the last couple of circuits of the stadium loop,
I used the position of my car to find the right sidewalk through the parking lot. 

As I neared the highest point of the connector, I picked up my cadence as if I was running a stride.  Up and over, and now downhill the entire way until the watch sounded 10 kilometers elapsed.  As I had planned, I reached the intersection with the forest loop, and turned left to run downhill, now doing my best to increase my speed.  "Wait for it, wait for it", listening for the beep of the watch to signal 10 kilometers completed, and ... "BEEP" there it was!  55:11 total time for 10 kilometers, 6.22 miles; 8:52 min / mile pace or 5:31 min / km).  Although I didn't break my goal time of 55 minutes, I was happy to run a negative split race, with the last 5 kilometers covered in 27:14.  I had just enough energy left to finish strongly, to take advantage of the downhill finish.  

Very sweaty and very pleased with today's result.
I'm wearing the singlet from the 2019 race,
featuring a dinosaur wearing a space suit!  

When I submitted my result to the Run Social Distancing platform, I saw that I am currently 8th out of 30 participants, and 1st in my age group (male, age 55 - 59).  Actually I'm the only one in my age group to have submitted a 10K result at this moment.  With 2-1/2 days to go, it will be interesting to see how this turns out! 

Edit June 29: 10th overall!  No one older than me outran me, so I consider that a WIN!! 

Top 24 participants shown
Full results available at this link

June 6, 2020: In memory of Ahmaud Arbery, and other victims of racial violence. Black Lives Matter.

In the days leading up to today's scheduled virtual 5K race, I realized that this blog post would not be my usual account about the challenges of the hills, my pace, my heart rate.  Like most people in this country and many people around the world, I've been horrified about the Memorial Day murder of George Floyd while he was in police custody, killed by the weight of a policeman's knees to his neck for 8 minutes and 46 seconds, with two other policemen holding him down on the street with their knees, and a fourth policeman who did nothing to stop as Mr. Floyd called for help, "I can't breathe."  And I knew that George Floyd's murder by police was not an isolated experience, especially for people of color in this country.  

George Floyd's murder has galvanized people around the country, including many in Atlanta, to enter the streets to exercise their First Amendment rights of "freedom of speech" and "the right of the people peaceably to assemble", risking their lives from exposure to three pathogens: 

• the virus causing the COVID-19 pandemic,
• the virus of looters and rioters profaning the message of peaceful protestors, and
• the virus of more police violence, in too many cases attacking instead of protecting the people rightfully expressing their anger in voice and with signs, or the press representatives who bring their message to the world, also constitutionally protected by freedom of the press. 

Constitution for the United States of America

First Amendment

On Thursday I was moved by the eloquent words of Reverend Al Sharpton at the eulogy for Mr. Floyd: 

"...George Floyd's story has been the story of black folks, because ever since 401 years ago, the reason we could never be who we wanted and dreamed to being is you kept your knee on our neck." 

transcript of Rev. Sharpton's eulogy

YouTube video of Rev. Sharpton's eulogy

At that moment, I reconsidered my original plan to run today's 5K at Stone Mountain Park.  The reasons all pertained to the history of Stone Mountain and its racist symbols: a gathering place for the Ku Klux Klan, the infamous carving on the north face of the mountain memorializing Confederate rebel leaders fighting to maintain slavery in the southern states, the major roads prominently named after those leaders.  

As I read about the history of the carving, I learned that the carving is hardly historic.  The carving wasn't completed until 1972, a decade after I was born.  And even if it had been historic, the rebel monuments are not innocuous symbols of regional heritage.  I recommend the August 15, 2017 editorial in the New York Times by history Professor Karen L. Cox: 

"Why Confederate Memorials Must Fall"

Prof. Cox writes that "Confederate monuments have always been symbols of white supremacy."  That phrase and much more in her article changed my own mind about these monuments when I first read the editorial a few years ago. 

The main reason that I decided to go ahead and run today at Stone Mountain Park was because of the diversity of the people that patronize the park every day.  The walkers and runners represent all races and ethnicities, genders and ages, and probably the entire range of religions and political opinions as well.  It's one of the safest places to run in metro Atlanta because other people are always around, vehicular traffic is restricted, and the speed limit is relatively slow, especially on the south side of the mountain, opposite the carving.  In these days of COVID-19, there is almost always enough room to give 6-feet physical distance from other people, as long as you're willing to adjust your route by a few steps. 

I resolved to run today with acute awareness of running in a place with painful symbolism for many Americans.  I also resolved to share with you my thoughts and feelings as I ran five kilometers in memory of a fellow Georgia resident and runner, Ahmaud Arbery, who was murdered near Brunswick, Georgia on February 23, 2020.  

I deliberately began the day on a positive note.  Normally I drive into the park through the main gate on the northeast side of the park, on the road named after the Confederate president, where the carving comes into view on a curve as drivers approach the center of the park.  But a few days ago when I looked up the name of the road leading to the smaller western gate, James P. Rivers Memorial Drive, I learned that Mr. Rivers served as Stone Mountain's first African-American police chief, from 1988 to 1995.  He was remembered as a generous man who taught the current police chief "how to give back to the community."  I entered the park through James P. Rivers Memorial Drive, even though it took a couple more minutes to drive that route from my home.  As I have a choice, I may never enter through the main gate again, at least not until the name of the road is changed to honor someone more deserving.  

Stone Mountain remembers first African-American police chief 

After my warmup miles, I walked down to the covered bridge.  Our family regularly drives across the bridge to picnic on the island in the middle of Stone Mountain Lake, as this is Bonnie's parents' favorite site inside Stone Mountain Park.  The bridge was originally constructed in Athens, Georgia by W. W. King in 1891, and moved to Stone Mountain Park in 1965.  

What the sign omits is more information about W. W. King.  Earlier this week, I learned that Washington W. King was an African-American resident of Atlanta.  His father, Horace King, was born into slavery.  In the decades after the Civil War, the King family built bridges throughout the state of Georgia.  I've linked below to a long article about the bridges constructed by Washington W. King and information about the King family.   

An Uncrowned King: Uncovering the Bridges of W. W. King

As I began running 5 kilometers over what turned out to be the next 25 minutes and 35 seconds, I reflected on my own southern heritage.  More numbers: 1619, the year that African slaves were brought to Hampton, Virginia, not far from the landing place of my first American ancestor in James City in 1635.  After my father passed away in 2005, I inherited his box of family genealogy materials.  In going through his papers, I recall my horror seeing an 1850 census report, revealing that one of my predecessors in south Georgia listed 20 slaves.  That firmly repudiated the family myth that my ancestors were too poor to have owned slaves.   

Having grown up in a segregated town in southeast Texas, I'm not as shocked as many other white people seem to be when I hear about racist crimes.  I grew up regularly hearing white people figuratively putting their knees on African-American people's necks.  And some of these people didn't hesitate to chastise other white people like me who came to question why was racism acceptable.  Regretably it wasn't until my adult years that I came to completely reject the white supremacist culture.  Maybe I wasn't paying enough attention in Texas history class in the mid-1970's - or maybe it wasn't taught - but I only learned within the past few years that the Anglo-Americans that settled in the 1820's in the Mexican state of Coahuila y Texas, not far from where I grew up, had a "grievance" with the Mexican laws prohibiting slavery.   That was one of their motivations for independence from Mexico, to keep their slaves in bondage.  Upon the founding of the Republic of Texas in 1836, the constitution declared in its "General Provisions, section 9:"

"Congress shall pass no laws to prohibit emigrants from the United States of America from bringing their slaves into the Republic with them, and holding them by the same tenure by which such slaves were held in the United States; nor shall Congress have power to emancipate slaves; nor shall any slaveholder be allowed to emancipate his or her slave or slaves, without the consent of Congress, unless he or she shall send his or her slave or slaves without the limits of the Republic.  No free person of African descent, either in whole or in part, shall be permitted to reside permanently in the Republic, without the consent of Congress..."

Constitution of the Republic of Texas

So this what the "heroic" defenders of the Alamo fought for?  

As I approached the midpoint of my run, my thoughts turned to the death of Ahmaud Arbery near Brunswick, Georgia.  Mr. Arbery was murdered on February 23 of this year, but the crime was not widely reported until the first days of May.  The first two perpetrators were not arrested until May 7, and the third accomplice who filmed video of the last part of the chase and Mr. Arbery's death remained free until May 21.  Like many other runners, I ran 2.23 miles in Ahmaud Arbery's memory on May 8, which would have been his 26th birthday.  

Yesterday I had read news reports on the June 4 hearing of the three defendants, and testimony from the Georgia Bureau of Investigation.  The GBI investigator testified that Mr. Arbery was chased by three men in two trucks, and was hit by one of the trucks earlier in the chase.  Mr. Arbery attempted to escape but he was trapped on the road between the two trucks, which many of us have now seen in the appalling video recorded by one of the defendants.  In the words of the investigator: 

"I believe Mr. Arbery was being pursued, and he ran until he couldn't run anymore.  And it was: turn his back to a man with a shotgun, or fight with his bare hands against a man with a shotgun, and he chose to fight." 

"Judge advances murder trial for all three white men charged in death of Ahmaud Arbery."  Washington Post, June 4, 2020

As I turned around to run the second half of the route, my situation on the peaceful road at Stone Mountain Park was nothing at all like what Ahmaud Arbery had experienced.  I was running past dozens of people out for their morning exercise, many of them with black skin, but I knew that I had absolutely nothing to fear from any of them.  No one was jeering at me or threatening me.  No one was trying to hit me with their vehicles.  We were courteously giving each other 6-foot radius when passing to maintain physical distancing in the age of COVID-19, but otherwise everyone who didn't know each other was minding their own business.  I passed two women wearing hijabs, who could have been the target of a Muslim ban had they recently tried to enter the country.  I was confident that the people around me would have helped me if anything bad had happened to me, and really my only risk might have been falling.  I was completely safe among them, even though I knew none of their names. 

The investigator's words rang in my head: "he ran until he couldn't run anymore."  I tried to put myself in Ahmaud Arbery's shoes, trying to imagine what it might have been like to try to outrun the killers.  This wasn't at all about my time in the race.  It was about trying to create in myself the pain that I might have felt if I was desperately trying to escape pursuit by dangerous men.  But I couldn't do it.  I couldn't run to my absolute limit just based on my imagination.  And I knew that neither I nor Ahmaud Arbery nor most other people could have outrun armed men in two trucks.  

I pushed myself to the finish line for the 5K.  I was emotionally spent from the experience, but I also hope that I became more empathetic.  And after I had finished, I reflected on the privilege that I had today, one that Ahmaud Arbery did not have on February 23: to run a couple of recovery miles, and then return unmolested to my home.