Instead of running through the streets of midtown Atlanta, starting and ending at Atlantic Station, this year the Atlanta 10-Miler race was held on the Michelin Roadway at Road Atlanta, in Braselton, about an hour drive northeast of Atlanta. About one month ago, I registered for the 10-Mile distance, three loops around a hilly track, and last week Bonnie decided to join me for the event, running the 2.54 Mile completely on the road surface. To maintain physical distancing, the Atlanta Track Club started each race in waves of 25 runners, every five minutes, over a four-hour period.
As we stepped out of the car, I realized that November 1 marked exactly eight months since the Publix Atlanta Marathon. On March 1, 2020, I was still in denial that COVID-19 would be a serious problem. When the lockdown was announced in mid-March, I envisioned about eight weeks to suppress the virus. Instead, this has never gone away, and eight months in, the world is experiencing another spike in cases. However, the Atlanta Track Club is successfully putting on smaller races by appointment. Although today's race didn't have the thousands of runners that normally pack Atlantic Station, the results showed a total of 676 finishers in both races.
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| Bonnie took all of today's photos. My phone was out of memory! |
In the parking lot, I saw David Bloomquist, who was due to begin at 8:15 am, five minutes before my 8:20 appointment. He's usually a little faster than me, but I learned that he ran a 10K yesterday. So I joked, maybe I have a chance today!
With all of the hills on this race course, I wasn't trying for a new personal record (my best, 1:27:25 in October 2017). I hoped to finish in less than 1:40 (sub 10 minute / mile pace). Ideally I would start slowly in the first 3.7 mile lap, pick up the pace a little in the second lap when I had a feel for the course, and then accelerate through the final 2.54 mile dash to the finish line. As we lined up for the start, I was among the first two runners to enter the corral. We were spaced at least 6 feet apart, standing next to a cone to mark our spot. I turned around and saw Kacy Seynders from Coach Carl's training group standing two cones behind me. Kacy is MUCH faster than me. I offered to swap places with her, but she stayed put and it was time to begin anyway. I took off my mask, tucked it in my running belt, wished "Good luck!" to everyone in our wave, and the airhorn sounded.
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| Amateur runner's pose: everyone is ready to start their watches, then run. |
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| Above: I'm leading my heat! Below: but not for long. Kacy has just passed me. She had a great race, 3rd female finisher. |
Within 50 yards, Kacy and several other runners had already passed me. And when I glanced at my watch on the straightaway, I was running sub-8 minute / mile pace, although it was gently downhill. Whoaaaaa! I pulled back on my reins. We made a right turn, and there was the first hill. Time for the mantra "I love hills, I love hills" all the way up. Then back down again. In the first lap, I was on the inside track on the right, with second lap in the middle, and the final lap runners on the outside on the left. I was passing quite a few of the runners on the laps to my left, wondering if I would be one of those walking later in my race. I kept pulling my foot off of the accelerator, needing to save some fuel for those later laps. I saw John Wallace to my left, a grandmaster runner about 20 years older than me, and a true inspiration, and I called out "Hi John, great to see you!" He was walking uphill at that moment, but still moving well, working his way through the final lap on the way to a sub-2-hour finish. About 8 minutes in, going up the second big hill, I decided to take a strategic walk break and a sip of water. A 30-second walk break and a sip of water every 8 minutes sounded like a good idea. Near the end of the first mile, as we were heading uphill again, the right two lanes left the main racetrack onto an even steeper hill, onto what I guessed were some service roads. I slowed a little, of course, but passed a couple of walkers in the lane to my left. Over the hill, past the 1-mile marker at 9:10. Obviously I had crumpled up my original conservative race plan, but it was so much fun to run with other people.
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| The "squiggly" part of the course, about a mile long. |
In sections of the "squiggly" part of the route, runners ran past each other, and I saw and waved to speedster Matt Dickinson. I don't know if he was further ahead on the first lap or completing his second lap, but it was good to see him for a few seconds - it's been many months. At a turn, a volunteer asked if I was doing alright, and I smiled and answered "Yes, but I'm on my first lap!" More running around the surface roads, taking a short walk break at 16 minutes going up a little hill, which turned into the third hill on the course (was hill 2 on the way into the squiggly area). Just as I approached a turn to get into the entrance lane back onto the main race track, my watch signaled mile 2, 9:15. I still felt good, so figured I would stay with this "half-marathon pace" for a while and see how things went.
On the main race course, we ran downhill for awhile, and I tried to pick up some speed. Then the course took a sharp right, and in a minute, another sharp right. It's hard to believe that auto racers drive this course at speeds supposedly reaching 200 miles per hour. My average speed, 6.4 miles per hour. Near the end of mile 3, we began going uphill again. Fortunately it was 24 minutes, a good time for a walk break and a sip of water. Then speeding up again over the crest of the fourth hill. Mile 3, 9:16, and 27:40 elapsed. I was definitely running this first lap a couple of minutes faster than I should have, and hoping that I wouldn't regret it. The course had loudspeakers distributed throughout, playing music and occasionally with comments from the race emcee. Every 5 minutes, I would hear a new group of runners begin, with his encouragement "Go! Go! Go! GO!" As I was running up one hill in this section, I remember hearing the emcee claim "This is Atlanta flat!" to which I laughed out loud.
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| photo from the Atlanta Track Club |
Supposedly I had only 0.7 miles to the start-finish area, but it was nowhere in sight. What was in sight was another big hill, the fifth big hill on this route. As I started up the hill, the right lane for lap 1 made a little loop to the right. There was a water station on a table. I noticed 32 minutes on my watch. How convenient! Time for a walk break and a sip of water from my own water bottle. Then re-entering the main race course, back up to speed over the crest of the hill. The road went steeply downhill, on a gentle curve toward the start-finish area. I picked up some speed, but it was far too steep to just let myself fly down the hill. I definitely didn't want to crash and rollover; out of caution, my legs were braking my descent on the steepest part of the descent. Finally, the slope was a little less intense, and I coasted the rest of the way downhill toward the start-finish area.
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| Steep downhill and a right turn to the start-finish area |
On my right, volunteer Donna Roberts was cheering me on! As I cleared the start-finish line, I saw to my left Robin Mitchell stretching after her race, talking with Sue and Scott Landa. I waved, they saw me and cheered loudly. My engine sped up on the straightaway, gently downhill all the way to the first turn of the second lap, coinciding with mile 4, 8:42, 36:22 elapsed. Definitely on half-marathon pace now. Could I keep this up?
Making the turn, going uphill, the answer was, NO. I told myself, "hold out to 40 minutes, then you can walk." Desperately repeating "I love hills, I love hills, I love hills" and then, an unauthorized walk break. I'm old enough to require a carburetor, but I wasn't getting enough air into my engine. OK, I thought, "it's about getting to the end. You're not even halfway through." Now I was the person walking uphill while the later starters were sprinting past me to my right, enjoying the beginning of their first lap. Eventually we re-entered the "squiggly" part of the course, where I passed the 5 mile marker. Mile 5 in 10:11 was slow for me but probably about what I should have been running. The good news was that my elapsed time was 46:34, well under where I needed to be to finish under 1:40 or 100 minutes. I also began to regain some energy from the additional walk breaks.
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| Uphill and to the right on the first two laps; Uphill and to the left on the last lap. |
Midway through mile 6, I took my first gel, taking advantage of a walk break heading uphill. I didn't see any garbage cans on this part of the route, so ended up tucking the empty slightly gooey package back in my running belt. Emerging back onto the main race route, I picked up a little speed, completing mile 6 in 9:19, 55:53 elapsed. I was definitely going to finish the first 10K (6.22 miles) in less than 60 minutes.
While I was in mile 7, the Incubus song "Wish You Were Here" came in. This song received a lot of radio play in the mid-2000's, and after my father passed away in October 2005, every time I heard the song, I would think of my Dad. And I did so today as well:
"I lay my head onto the sand, The sky resembles a backlit canopy with holes punched in it. I'm counting UFOs, I signal them with my lighter, And in this moment I am happy, happy,
I wish you were here ..."
My conservative Dad grew up on pop music from the 1930's and 1940's, and preferred country-western during my lifetime. He might be baffled to learn that his son's memories of him were triggered by a song by an alternative rock band that named itself "Incubus". Remembering looking at the stars through a telescope in the driveway with him .... Dad had a good sense of humor. Dad was concerned about me 15 + years ago when I was struggling unhappily in my first marriage. If there is a regret, it is that Dad hasn't seen how things have turned out in the last dozen years, meeting and marrying Bonnie, then taking better care of my health, then running marathons ..... and I know he would be proud of me. If only he could have told his friends about his chemistry professor son running a marathon through the streets of New York City.
And speaking of Bonnie, there she was, way up ahead of me, near the end of her 2.54 mile lap. I reached mile 7 in 9:28, 1:05:21 elapsed. I was happy to maintain the sub-10 minute pace, as I caught up to Bonnie in the adjacent lap. We both started heading up the fifth hill on the lap (fourth hill for her on the outer lap) and I said, "Once you're over the hill, it's downhill to the finish!" Before I reached the top, I pulled over at the water station, picked up a bottle of Dasani, mixed most of it into the residual Nuun in the water bottle on my belt, drank down the rest of the water as I reached the top of the hill. No garbage can for the water bottle either! And as I began to race downhill, carrying the empty plastic water bottle in my hand, I loosened the cap to crumble the plastic so I could clinch my fists a little better. I passed through the start-finish line once more before I saw a garbage can.
Just 2-1/2 miles to go. This lap was all on the race track, now running in the left-most lane. Ticking off mile 8 in 9:36, 1:14:52, although I was tired, I was definitely going to finish sub 1:40. Even though I was sharing the lane with the 5K runners, I felt like I was mostly running alone. Heading up another long hill, a song from Green Day came on. I like most of Green Day's music, although the lyrics to this song are a little banal, but what I thought I heard was:
"Do you know the enemy? D'ya know the enemy? Well gotta know the enemy
The Hills!"
Yeah, I think those are the words. Someone tell Billie Joe Armstrong. Because mile 9 was a struggle, my slowest one of the race, at 10:14, 1:25:10. Normally I would be gunning through Atlantic Stations heading for the finish line by 1:25 elapsed, but today I had two more hills to conquer. I wasn't going to walk, no I wasn't. "I love hills, I love hills, I love hills ---- gotta take a walk break." Perhaps the only time in the race that I looked quickly behind me, I saw a man in a maroon jersey about 50 feet behind me, gaining on me. I began running again. I wasn't concerned if he was going to pass me, but I wasn't going to make it easy for him. Way up ahead, I saw a woman, also wearing a maroon shirt. I started thinking about my "Sara Hall" moment, how strongly she finished the London Marathon last month, quickly closing on a competitor in the final mile, then passing her in last hundred meters for a second-place finish. I picked up a little Frank McDonald speed as I headed downhill, and I thought I gained a little ground on the woman, but then had to slow down while climbing the last big hill. I said to myself, "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop," and then I was walking. One last swig of the water bottle. A volunteer was shouting, "Don't slow down now, you're almost finished!" but I couldn't move any faster. Then I spotted Superfan Bob Wells, cheering me by name. And that got me running again as I reached the crest of the hill.
There were two women in front of me, a few hundred feet away, one in black, and then the woman in maroon gaining on her. Stretching out in front of me, my eyes took in the beautiful valley of the finish line. For the final lap, we ran to the far left. This lane was longer but not as steep, so I began to pick up some serious speed. The combination of gravity and strides in training helped me hit maximum speed for the race, as did channeling the spirit and the will of Sara Hall. I wasn't sure that I would catch the woman in the maroon shirt. As race commentators say, "Frank is going to run out of track before he catches up." But they said that about Sara Hall. And I stamped down on the accelerator, smoothly switching into high gear. Closer, closer, closer, and I realized that I wasn't going to catch up to the woman in maroon, but if I just kept accelerating - the woman in black sped up - but just before the finish line I passed her! Probably a photo finish, but I think that I won by a step!
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| And the man in yellow wins second, by a long toenail! |
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| That was tough! |
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| Oxygen, please! |
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| Gonna be OK |
1:34:29!
Not a personal record, but much better than expected! And after months of virtual racing, it was so much fun to actually race other people, to kick to the finish line to catch up with a couple of runners in front of me.
Unfortunately I lost my mask somewhere on the race course, but the bag that was our gift for finishing the race contained a wrap. The medal shows the Millenium Gate near the finish line in Atlantic Station, so must have been ordered some months ago, when there was still some hope for a race in city of Atlanta.
The Atlanta Track Club did a great job hosting this race. The logistics of running on a race track were ideal under the pandemic conditions. I gather that the "squiggly" section was part of the strategy for spreading us out, and giving us more room on the main track over three lanes, instead of squeezing us into four lanes. After the official results were posted, I thought I spotted an ad for the Publix Atlanta Marathon moving to the Atlanta Motor Speedway south of town (in Hampton), and sure enough, the official notice appeared on Monday. I'm seriously thinking about it. 17 weeks is enough time to train from a 10-mile base, as long as I can work in a grant proposal, training three new graduate students, and teach courses during that period.
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