December 19, 2021: Jeff Galloway 13.1

The Galloway Half Marathon has been a memorable race for me, generally as the last race of the calendar year. As a brief summary:  

2014: 2:19:36, first half-marathon

2015: 1:59:48, first success with "Breaking Two"

2016: 2:00:56, suffered on the hill in mile 10

2017: 1:56:42, a new personal best, inspired by Billy Mills

2018: 1:58:53, 2nd fastest half, in the rain

2019: 1:55:40, a new 2nd fastest half

2020: 2:04:54, virtual race

I registered for today's race nearly two years ago, taking advantage of an "early bird" registration for 2019 finishers, originally expecting to run in December 2020. With the onslaught of the COVID-19 pandemic, the Galloway race organization rolled over my registration fee to this year's race. 

We happened to park next to Lindy Liu in the Piedmont Park garage!
Lindy ran the half-marathon relay today.

I'm making progress in physical therapy, but I'm not completely recovered from whatever is causing the muscle / nerve pain, and my conditioning is not that good. My longest run since the marathon was about 7-1/2 miles, so I was just hoping that I had enough innate strength and experience to cover 13 miles. I definitely wasn't trying for a goal other than to finish, so I started with the 2:15 pace group, which used intervals of 90 seconds run, 30 seconds walk. The weather was drizzling and a little windy on the way to the start, and the temperature was in the high 40's. It was good to see some familiar faces along the way and in the starting area, but the number of runners was definitely less than in the past, only about 400 finishers today. It's probably not surprising in these times, with the Omicron variant causing another surge of illness. I'm just happy that some organizations are still safely hosting races. 

I switched to a long-sleeved shirt due to the wind. Good decision.
Across the street were a trio of Charge Running coaches in cow costumes!

Everybody looks good at the start of a race. 

Although I had a "red" bib permitting me to start with the first group, the 2:15 pacers were in the "blue" area, so we began 3 minutes after the clock officially started. It was really nice to stay with the pacers, and it was a pretty social group for the time that I ran with them. Mentally I let them do all of the work setting the pace and signaling run and walk intervals. It's amazing how that makes a big difference vs. trying to find a pace and managing the intervals on my own. I enjoyed re-acquainting myself with the course after two years. The Krispy Kreme landmark on North Avenue at the turn onto Central Park Place burned down earlier this year, but I was pleasantly surprised to see a food truck open for donut business in the parking lot, and the fan with the car stereo playing 80's rock was back this year. I accidentally got out in front of the pace group, I guess I was pumped up by AC/DC, but caught myself and let the pacers reel me back in. Around this time, I began to feel the first muscle pains in my back. That wasn't surprising, but I still had a long distance ahead of me, and was hoping that things would not get worse. 

In mile 6 on the Eastside Beltline, pleasure >> pain.

The miles ticked by, as our pace group moved a few seconds faster than the 10:18 min / mile goal pace. On the Eastside Beltline in the middle of mile 6, I saw Bonnie, and moved out in front of the pacers to exchange a hand slap and a smile for her camera. We had unintentionally banked some time on the long gentle downhill stretch on the Beltline in mile 5, and returned it all in mile 7 climbing the hills on St. Charles Avenue on the way up to Highland Avenue. I was beginning to fall behind the pacers just a bit, but caught up at every walk break through the mile 8 marker, occasionally cutting my own walk break short by 5 seconds on either end. I tried to keep my spirits up, noting when we had reached the halfway point, and used my trusty mantra "I love hills!" when needed, even out loud a few times hoping that it might help others. Passing the mile 8 marker, I silently thought to myself, "just 5 miles to the finish line." On Park Drive, I fell 13 seconds behind the pacers; yes, I was counting time to the next landmarks. I made a bold effort to catch up to the pace group at the beginning of a run segment, but my back muscles began to protest quite loudly. I let the pacers slip from my grasp for good, sadly watching the gap grow. That was the most demoralizing moment in today's race.

Sign language

Pain > pleasure

Once I turned onto 10th Avenue, I saw Bonnie ahead. I was disappointed that she had to see me well behind the pacers, probably more than 30 seconds. I gave her a thumb-down signal as I slowed to take a scheduled walk break, but assured her that I would finish. She replied "I love you!" as I continued walking. I tried to start up with the next run interval, but running uphill was too much for me. At that moment I reasoned with myself, 2:15 or 2:30, it doesn't really matter. What matters is getting through the rest of the race without making my back worse. I calculated that I could still finish in less then 3 hours if I just walked the rest of the way. So that's what I did for the entire 10th mile, and more. I began to carefully check behind me to see if the 2:30 pace group was about to overtake me, and wondered if I might run with them. After I had crested the top of the hill on Piedmont Road, I attempted to run again, but the sore muscle in my back wasn't ready to cooperate, so back to walking. After a minute or so, I tried to run again, changing gait more gradually. That seemed to work, heading downhill on Piedmont Road. But before reaching the bottom at the intersection with Monroe Drive, the 2:30 pacers caught up with me. I walked with them for 30 seconds, but when they returned to their 60 second run intervals, I could not keep up. Bye bye. 

I was grateful to see the mile 11 marker shortly after entering Piedmont Park. My watch showed 2:05 elapsed. In several past editions of this race, at 2:05 after the start, I was cooling down after celebrating a sub-2 hour finish. Today at 2:05, now 2:06 elapsed, I still had 2.1 miles to go. Just 21 minutes to the finish? I quickly corrected myself, today it might take twice as long. That mental correction was the only thing that happened quickly for me. I just enjoyed walking while listening to the music blasting from the speakers at Orpheus Brewing high above the park path. I occasionally tried to run for a moment, typically after someone passed me, hoping that I could get to the finish line and rest a little sooner, but it was too painful to run for long. On the other hand, walking sort of felt like physical therapy. I also realized that I was not registered for any races or for running commitment at all for the future, and focused on the thought that after I finished this race, I could just focus on rehabilitation and complete healing before returning to any training or racing in 2022. 

I see Bonnie, who turned my grimace into a smile!

Those thoughts kept me moving toward the mile 12 marker, where Bonnie was waiting as we had earlier agreed. She was relieved to hear that I wasn't too badly dinged up, and that I was intent on taking care of myself as I slowly worked my way to the finish line. Bonnie called out "I'll see you at the finish!" The route made a hairpin turn as we approached the Lake; across the Meadow, I saw the bobbing sign for the 2:45 pace group. They looked so cheerful from a distance! It had been 7 - 8 minutes since I was at that spot, but I knew that they were moving somewhat faster than I was. I was motivated not to get passed by that group, and kept power walking. A trio of women dressed in cow costumes who coach with Charge Running passed me and checked in on me, thanks Natalie and Betsy! I assured them that it was just my back muscles and that I was basically OK, and they continued on to the finish. 

Red is fastest, orange is fast enough, green is slower,
blue is walking, dark blue is walking very slowly

On the path on the south side of the lake, I remembered my difficult finish from 2014. Today was much slower, but I didn't feel as badly. Only 0.4 miles or so to go. I began jogging at an easy pace, and that wasn't too bad. All of that walking during the past hour must have helped. I caught up to another runner that had passed me a moment earlier. My intention was to run with him into the finish. I tried to encourage with a little small talk about whether he had run this race before ("no, first time for this race") and then pointing out the mile 13 sign up ahead. Either he slowed down or I sped up a little when I heard the finish line announcer. Turning the curve outside of the Active Oval, I spotted the race clock, saw 2:44:35, and realized that I might finish before the clock clicked over to 2:45 if I didn't slow down. Brian Minor ran up to the fence to cheer me on, the announcer called out my name, and then I was through the finish line, 2:44:55 clock time, 2:41:54 chip time. Bonnie was on the right photographing my finish, the Charge Running team was cheering to my left. "Quite the rooting section!" said the announcer. Bonnie captured a smile on my face as I slowed to a walk. 

Personal best for the most minutes accumulated in a half marathon? 

Showing the medal to Brian and...
to Brenden and Beverly

Felt good enough to smile! No need for the medical tent today.

Brian and Frank with Jeff Galloway, 1972 Olympian and race host

Goals for the year 2022: 

1) Get healthy! I'm continuing with weekly physical therapy, and also doing the exercises at home twice each day.

2) Re-build my running stamina, starting with 5K training. Brian has proposed a 5K race series for 2022. 

3) Finish 2022 with a strong half-marathon. By that time I'll be dominating the 60 - 64 age group. 

December 11, 2021: Monday Night Brewing Westside 10K

This year I finally ran the Westside 10K. Tes Marshall's Run Social / runningnerds group has organized this race for a decade (or more), but it's often the same weekend as the Galloway Half Marathon, which I've run each year since 2014. I volunteered at the Westside 10K-10 mile race as a course monitor several years ago on a frigid morning. The one time that I registered to run this race, I believe the 10-mile distance, the race was cancelled due to severe ice. This year I waited to register until I was sure that my recovery was going well enough to enjoy running, but with a weather forecast that predicted lightning storms this weekend, I didn't actually register until just a few hours before the registration cut-off on Thursday afternoon, after I was fairly confident that the worst weather wouldn't arrive until we had finished the race. With the Galloway Half Marathon coming next weekend, I decided that while I could probably run 10 miles, I might not recover in time for 13.1 miles in eight days, so I registered for the 10K distance. I've had a couple of good runs to prepare for that distance, including last weekend with Tucker Running Club, covering over seven miles, and finishing up the run with Susie Hill. 

In other words: "No complaining, y'all!"

I didn't recall discussing this race with Susie last weekend, but when I arrived this morning, she was one of the first people that I saw! Susie and I both ran the Chicago Marathon in October. Her marathon recovery has been smoother than mine. Susie introduced me to a friend, Eric, who was running his first 10K race today! For a "rookie", he was relatively young and looked quite athletic, so I had a feeling that he would easily outrun me. The weather was unseasonably warm for December, in the low 60's, so I wore a T-shirt and shorts for today's race. After completing some dynamic stretches, I jogged an easy mile starting about 20 minutes before the race began. This was a good move, not only to loosen up the legs, but also to properly and comfortably retie my shoes, which required three stops in that warm-up mile. 

With Susie Hill about 30 minutes before the start

At 8 o'clock sharp, Tes Marshall started the race. I was well behind the starting line, but immediately began running even before passing the marker at the starting point.  The first few blocks on Howell Mill Road were gently uphill, but then the road levelled out. We made a sharp right turn onto West Marietta Street, and then my watch sounded for the first walk break, at 4:30 elapsed. I was on a 4:30 / 0:30 interval strategy, which I figured would save my energy and legs for the challenging hills to come. My main goal was to get to the finish line uninjured, although I was hoping that I would feel good enough after 5 or 5-1/2 miles to pick up the pace for a strong finish. 

No joke! Today's mantra will be "I love hills!"

In the distance, I could hear Bob Wells cheering on the runners. It turns out that he was posted at the 1-mile marker, which I reached in ---- 8:08! That couldn't be right, I felt like I was running at around a 10 min / mile pace, and decided that the mile marker was probably in the wrong place. Nonetheless it was great to hear and see Bob, and we exchanged a gentle fist bumb as I passed him. On the right I recognized the buildings of the King Plow center. Bonnie's employer, the RMN Agency, had an office here for a year or two, before moving a couple of miles to the current location on West Peachtree Street in Midtown Atlanta. We turned left into a neighborhood. To the left, the road climbed sharply upward. I was about to say to the runner next to me "Glad we're not going that way!" but then saw that the right turn was also taking us uphill, almost as steeply. Time to bring on the mantra, "I love hills!" The mantra was going to get a good workout today! 

There were several cheer groups on the streets of this neighborhood, which was really nice to see. I picked up some speed going downhill, then it was time to climb again to get back onto West Marietta Street, approaching the 2-mile marker, at 18:30 elapsed. I did not think that I was running 9:15 mile average, but just kept moving along on the 4:30 run / 0:30 walk plan. Some of the walk breaks were even downhill, but I didn't worry about that: a walk break is a rest break whether it's going uphill, downhill, or level - not that there was much level ground on today's race route. 

As we headed due west, I began to recognize the area near the Westside Reservoir Park, Atlanta's newest city park. We visited a few months ago shortly after it opened to the public. Bonnie and I got a little lost exploring the outer reaches of the park, and ended walking on a very hilly road to get back to the parking area. Today we were now running on that very hilly road. At this point, the lead runner in the 10K race was heading back in our direction. He must have been running at around a 5:30 min / mile pace! It was another full minute before I saw the second runner, and the rest of the leaders were relatively spread out along the route. 

Turning left onto Johnson Road, it was time for another walk break at 24:30 elapsed. I was feeling OK. There was a little pain in the left buttock, but it wasn't getting worse, in fact I thought it might have diminished a bit, perhaps as I was fully warmed up at this stage of the race. The route was rolling hills but I could tell it was net downhill on Johnson Road. I was a little surprised to see that some of the speedsters leading the 10K race were actually walking in the return direction, uphill! Around 27 minutes elapsed, I saw the hydration station for the race, and decided to slow down to pick up a cup of purple sports drink and then a 6-ounce water bottle. My hands were sweaty and the bottle was slick with condensation so it was tough to hold onto. We turned into the main entrance of the Westside Reservoir Park, on the sidewalk, with the return runners to our left. Hmm, we're going to have to cross paths on our way out of the park. After a little "speed bump" just past the entrance, I was happy to run downhill. With the water bottle in hand, I drank down about half of the bottle at the 29:30 walk break, which I took on schedule even though I was moving downhill. The 3-mile marker was near the large sign between the parking area and the walking paths, coinciding with 30 minutes flat on my watch, and 2.97 miles, so now the mile markers were nearly equal to my watch mileage. Slightly slower than 10 min / mile pace to this stage, I was pretty happy with that for the first half on such a hilly course. Susie passed me heading out of the park, probably about a minute ahead of me, I estimated. Not sure if I would catch up to her unless she seriously slowed down in the second half, but I was running with a group that was more-or-less at my pace. Around the 5K point, we made a U-turn to exit the park. Wow, the path out of the park was more steeply uphill than I had realized when we were easily moving downhill. Nonetheless I knew that any route involving the Westside Reservoir Park was going to be hilly. "I love hills!" Around 32 minutes elapsed, and about 4:30 after the walk break for the water station, I took a 30 second walk break and finished most of the water bottle. After the race, I realized that the U-turn had been at the lowest point of the course.

(Photos from an earlier visit in late summer 2021)
"Dinosaur ribs" at the entrance to the park

The quarry at the park reminds me of the
late great comedian Robin Williams, who joked
"A waste processing plant near a recreation area? How intelligent is that?!"

Returning to Johnson Road, I tossed the empty water bottle into a recycling bin and picked up another 6 ounce bottle. Following the example of the lead runners, I took a couple of extra walk breaks up to the intersection, "I love hills!" Turning right onto West Marietta Street, I passed the mile 4 marker at 41 minutes flat: 11 minutes for mile 4, 135 feet uphill, 66 feet downhill. There was a lot of car and truck traffic on the road on the return trip. When I reached the intersection with Marietta Boulevard - crossing West Marietta Street, welcome to Atlanta street naming - I realized that WE were responsible for the traffic backup, as the police were stopping cars and trucks to let us cross the intersection. After turning left onto Marietta Boulevard, we crossed a bridge over a set of many railroad tracks. Now I remembered where I was stationed as a volunteer five years ago: the water station was at this exact point. It was 25 degrees F that morning. As runners spilled water onto the roadway, the cold wind passing over and under the bridge quickly froze the water, creating a giant patch of ice at the water station. Yet I don't recall anyone slipping and falling that morning, thank goodness. 

Returning to today's account, 40 degrees warmer: we turned right onto Huff Road. We were running downhill, we had earned it, yet I didn't pick up much speed, as it was a little painful to run downhill. Nevertheless I delayed the next walk break until we reached the bottom of the hill, at 50 minutes elapsed. 30 seconds walking uphill, where a few runners passed me, then I began running again. I passed the mile 5 marker just before 52 seconds elapsed, tried to resume running without extra walk breaks, but on this long uphill section of the entire race, it was impossible to avoid some walking. "I love hills, I love hills!!" I kept saying to myself as we kept climbing. A sign was posted for "Huff and Puff Road" followed by "Remember, you paid for this - and you signed a waiver!" On the steepest grade, I said out loud "Oh my God!" There are only two things that will make this non-religious guy say those words: 1) Uphill running, and 2) Bonnie can tell you about the second thing (wink!). 

Shortly after the 54:30 walk break, we were about to crest the hill, and I sensed that Howell Mill Road was not far away. I picked up a little speed and moved ahead of a few of the people that had passed me during earlier walk breaks. Turning onto Howell Mill Road, I could see one more hill, but it was a gentle climb. Surely it was the very last hill of the race. "I love hills!" As the alert sounded for the 59:30 walk break, I was about to pass another runner. Shall I walk or shall I pass, I asked myself? I felt strong enough to run instead of walk, after all this was the final kilometer of the race. 

At 1:02:00 elapsed, we turned right onto Trabert Avenue for the promised downhill finish! I didn't care if it was a little more painful to run downhill, none of the people that I had recently passed were going to overtake me if I could help it. At 1:02:30, I flew past the mile 6 marker. A couple of times, I did hear footsteps rapidly close on me from behind, turns out it was the 5th and then the 6th place finishers in the 10-mile race. That was cool with me, go right ahead and don't let me get in the way of your 63-minute finish. I accelerated as the road continued downhill and curving to the right, while the pain in my butt was also increasing. C'mon, it's less than 0.2 mile, less than 2 minutes. The old Van Halen song "Somebody Get Me a Doctor" came to mind. I didn't remember the lyrics word-for-word, but here they are: 

"You better call up the ambulance, I'm deep in shock, overloaded baby, I can hardly walk!"

OK, I didn't feel that bad. It was more like: 

"I'm feeling over fine, and I'm speeding down that line!"

Then I saw the flags marking the beginning of the finishing chute. Another runner was moving slowly ahead of me as the finish line came into view; I put on a kick to beat her to the finish line by a second, just as the 7th place 10-mile runner finished a step behind me. I stopped my watch, and remembered the dramatic last words of the Van Halen song:

"Somebody give me a shot!"    and the last two chords, tum-tum

1:04:34 on the watch, 1:04:24 official time. That was nearly the same time that I ran for the Peachtree Road Race in July, coming off of the same ailment on the right buttock. Today's effort was a lot more work and a little more pain. Fortunately I felt much better after a few minutes of stretching.

After cooling down and walking around for a few minutes, I decided to use my free drink ticket for a craft beer. At 9:30 in the morning, I'm normally still drinking coffee, but the "Saint Monday" beer was surprisingly delicious. I wouldn't win any awards today, but I had stood up Tes by missing award ceremonies in a previous race where I actually placed in my age group, so I stayed today to congratulate the 10K awardees. Remember Eric who was doing his first 10K? He was the 19th-fastest male finisher, in 48:27! What a great way to run one's first 10K race! 

Today's run was nearly 15 minutes slower than my personal best 10K from just four years ago. But I've not been in the best shape this year. My goal for 2022 is to get 100% healthy and to really lose some weight. I'm already down about 5 pounds in the last month by rigorously resuming Weight Watchers tracking. I'm confident that I can get over my recent aches and pains if I continue the physical therapy strength and flexibility exercises at home. And then, I can work toward improving my speed in the 5K distance. 

Post-race party, mostly 10K finishers in this photo.
A few big windows were open, so the place was well-ventilated.
Hopefully we were safe enough from breakthrough omicron-COVID.

November 25, 2021: The Invesco QQQ Thanksgiving Day 5K

Yesterday a jury in Brunswick, Georgia delivered guilty verdicts to Ahmaud Arbery's killers. From everything that I had read and seen, it seemed like an obvious decision, but after hearing yesterday's news I remembered that one can never be sure what a jury will decide. In June of last year, I shared my reflections about Ahmaud Arbery and other victims of racial violence while running a virtual 5K distance. The guilty verdicts are a step in the right direction, but Mr. Arbery remains dead, so I feel some relief but no happiness. Ahmaud Arbery was murdered simply for "Running While Black." In my years of running all over the Atlanta metro area - really, in my 59 years of life, I've never come close to facing an analogous threat to my life. My only concern on the roads and the sidewalks has been to watch for distracted drivers and cracks in the pavement. As a white man, I'm free to run through predominantly Latino neighborhoods as I travel on foot north or east of my home in suburban Gwinnett County. I've logged hundreds of miles during long runs on or near the Westside and Southside Beltline sections through historically African-American areas of Atlanta without the slightest hint of danger. Over the years I've become increasingly aware of the privileges that I've enjoyed simply from the chance occurrence of my race and my gender. More consciously I now try to break the cycle that perpetuates bias, especially in my daily work as a university science professor, learning to teach and mentor and work more inclusively with all students and colleagues. This means not just doing what worked for me when I was a student or a junior faculty member, but continuing to learn and change to create an "equity framework," a term that resonates with me after reading some of the work of HHMI Director David Asai, who presented in our department earlier this year. 

To change the subject to my current running activities, I've encountered another bout of nerve pain for the past month. When this afflicted me in May and June, it was in my right buttock; this time it's the same sensation in the same location in my left buttock. It started less than 2 weeks after completing the Chicago Marathon. This time I didn't hesitate to see a doctor, who took X-rays and established that my vertebrae and discs were in the correct locations, and then I began physical therapy a couple of weeks ago. I decided to try a different approach with Lynne Repasky and Laura James at All Health Physical Therapy in Tucker, just a couple of blocks from my daily commuting route. It's not clear if it's spinal arthritis that is causing the problem, but their approach is to work on strengthening my core. That has certainly made sense to me, in part because I've really neglected that part of my training and conditioning. And I'm rapidly improving. Last weekend I ran 7 easy miles without too much pain. As we're in town this year for Thanksgiving, we decided about 10 days ago to register for the Thanksgiving Day 5K. Although this is only my second time to run in Atlanta on Thanksgiving Day, the event already has great fondness for me, because I set my personal best in the half marathon two years ago, in the midst of a long and productive training cycle. I knew that I wouldn't break any personal records in today's race, but it would be good test of my recovery and current fitness, a starting point for improvement in the coming year. 

Brian Minor and I ran the race together today. We've enjoyed several friendly competitions over the years, including my victory in the Decatur DeKalb 4-miler, followed by my less stellar performance a month later in our rematch on the Big Peach Sizzler 10K course. With the Delta surge in the pandemic and a rash of break-through COVID cases in fully vaccinated people, I've taken another hiatus on socializing, so I haven't seen Brian in person since the summer. He knew that I've struggled lately, so he proposed that we run the race together as a fun run. I was grateful for the accommodation, and looking forward to catching up during the race. 

The Hyperion Tempo model by Brooks

On race morning, I awoke feeling quite good. Not 100% pain-free, but I graded the pain, on a 0 - 10 scale, at a 1. It was there when I thought about it, but I could mostly ignore it. We arrived more than an hour in advance of the 7:15 first wave; we were both in the 7:30 wave due to later registration. After we separately did warm-up runs, Brian found me in the corral, and I shared with him that I was in decent shape and ready to run. At 36 deg F with no wind and some warmth from the rising sun, the conditions were perfect for me with double layered running gear. I had also just purchased a pair of Hyperion Tempo shoes, probably the lightest shoes that I've ever owned. I was motivated to try out this model after learning that Des Linden won the 2018 Boston Marathon in a SuperShoe prototype embedded with a carbon plate. The Hyperion Tempo is neither a "SuperShoe" nor a budget-buster, but the next best thing for an amateur runner like me.  

Bonnie, Brian, and me, a few minutes before our start

At 7:30 am, our favorite race emcee Ronell Blackmon started our wave. Brian and I made sure to cross the starting mat together. Then I took a few quick strides and darted forward, working my way around some slower starters. Where was Brian? Ah, directly to my left. That's OK, we resolved to run together. The race route featured an uphill start going north on Hank Aaron Drive, but as far as I was concerned, that was ideal, to get one of the hills out of the way early. I took a quick glance at my watch, and saw that I was moving at a 9:47 min / mile pace. Not bad, considering that I've not run very far at that speed over the past year. Brian and I managed to maintain some conversation as we ran, interrupted mostly by simply moving around some of the people in front of us. We only needed about three minutes to reach the overpass for Interstate-20. Pace down to 9:30 min / mile! And no increase in pain, no difficulty maintaining that pace. After doing a lot of marathon training at 11 - 12 min / miles, and running shorter "races" at 10 - 11 min / mile paces, it felt really good to run faster. 

We turned right onto Memorial Drive, and were instructed to stay to the right of the cones. That was only a single lane, and there were a lot of people moving in that lane, so Brian and I and a good number of other runners maintained our line to the left of the cones. Around this stage, I shared with Brian that I was wearing new shoes, very light and "endorsed by Des Linden", and bounded ahead with a short sprint. That was just for fun, maybe no more than 5 seconds, and I pulled back on the accelerator especially when I realized that we were running a gentle downhill, so maybe that was why I was able to move quickly. Just before we reached the 1-mile marker, my Garmin chimed the first mile, in 8:55! Brian and I compared times, he registered 8:56, so I was happy to claim victory for the first mile, LOL. Here the trash-talking began: I asked Brian if his heart was holding up, was he doing OK? It took him a moment before he realized that I was teasing and sort of encouraging him to run faster. Up ahead was a woman wearing a shirt on the back with the words "Get behind me Satan." I don't know exactly what that means, but figured that it implied that everyone behind her was Satan. So I picked up the pace a bit, and said to Brian, "let's pass Satan" when I was just behind the woman's left shoulder. I was hoping that she would laugh but I don't think that she actually heard me. After the pass, we kept moving at the quicker pace, now down to around 8:30 min / mile, without difficulty for me. 

Today's race route. 

Before long, we made a right turn onto Wood Street, then a quick left onto Woodward, and another right onto Cherokee Avenue, heading due south. We had been talking about Brian's 2-year old son Brenden, speculating on the number of years (not many) before Brenden would outrun us, especially me being a few years older. We maintained our conversation, now that we were running downhill on a gentle slope, a "running" dialogue as we passed many other runners and walkers. I was particularly chatty. I guess I wanted to show off to everyone that we passed that I could run reasonably fast while still talking. I did firmly resolve NOT to talk about my injury while passing people on the race course. I remember how annoyed I was when a couple passed me during a race a few years ago, complaining about their current injuries! Thanks to the cold weather, my heart rate was only in the low 150 beats per minute, something that I could maintain for awhile. Unfortunately I began to feel that my left shoe was coming loose. I was having a good run and really didn't want to stop and check. It seemed that the laces weren't flopping around, which would have been dangerous and required a stop to retie, so I just kept running. 

Another man, who I think was in his 40's, caught up with Brian and me. I think he had probably listened in on our conversation. As he passed us, he said something along the lines of "I'm enjoying the downhill, not thinking about the uphill" and I responded "With the uphill start, I think we've earned this downhill". He insisted "I don't think about uphill!" He moved about 10 yards ahead of us. I said to Brian, "let's try to keep close enough to him, maybe we can catch up to him at the end of the race." He was wearing a ski-cap with a large pom-pom, so I added "He'll be easy to spot as long as he's not too far ahead." As we crossed Interstate 20 again, there was a water station, and I decided to grab a bottle of Dasani from a volunteer. I asked Brian if he needed water, he said no, so I took only one bottle. A couple of sips felt good, so that was the right move, but it meant that I had to carry a water bottle for the rest of the race. The green expanse of Grant Park was to our left, then our Garmins sounded the 2-mile alert as we approached the 2-mile sign. "8:31" I called out. Brian checked his watch, and replied "8:35". I laughed and said "I also won mile 2!" and then "I like how I've programmed my Garmin to run a little bit fast."  LOL.  

Elevation vs. pace

So far I was managing the one bit of strategy that I had for the race, to run each mile a little faster. When I was in peak shape a couple of years ago, I nearly set a new 5K personal best, without really trying, simply by running a progressive strategy. (I see that in that November 2019 blog post I resolved to "set a new personal record for the 5K distance in the year 2020" but then, COVID happened.) At the beginning of the third mile of today's race, I picked up the speed a bit more. Brian matched my move - and that was fine, I was glad that we were still running together, as planned. As we turned right onto Georgia Avenue, I shouted "straight shot from here to the finish." I think that was the last thing I said until after crossing the finish line. I needed to save every bit of energy, effort, and concentration for running! I did channel the good feeling that I remembered from running this same street in mile 22 of my personal-best marathon in March 2020.  

The road took a slight uphill elevation, between Grant Street and the appropriately named Hill Street. Now I deployed my "secret skill": the sciatica hardly bothers me at all when running uphill! The doctor told me that the information was helpful when he first diagnosed me in June, since posture changes a little when running uphill - and downhill, putting different stresses on the leg nerves emerging from the spinal cord. Taking momentary advantage of the gentle uphill, I opened up some distance from Brian. Cresting the hill, running downhill past the track at Cheney Field, I maintained that speed. I stole a look behind me, looking over my left shoulder. Then I remembered from the Resolution Run 5K on New Year's Day 2018 (a frigid day when I set my 5K personal best of 23:30), Brian had stayed to my right, since I never looked over my right shoulder. So today, I looked over my right shoulder. And there was Brian, about 20 feet behind me. Brian called out "I'm right here, buddy!" Around the same time, the man with pom-pom ski hat passed me, looked over and smiled. I guess he must have taken a walk break somewhere on Cherokee Avenue. So now I was racing two people! It was all good fun, completely in the great spirit of the day. And it was just what I needed to keep pressing the pace. Remarkably, without pain! By that stage of the race, my brain was probably saturated with anandamide (commonly mistaken for "endorphins", see my November 2015 race report). 

The finish line, before sunrise

I looked behind me once more, over both my left and right shoulders. Now Brian was just 10 feet behind me, almost close enough to draft. We were running up the very last hill of the race, toward the intersection with Hank Aaron Drive, and the 3-mile marker came into sight. As I looked down at my watch at the intersection at the top of the hill (dumb dumb dumb!! but 7:59 for mile 3!), Brian kicked into high gear and passed me on the left, quickly moving 10 feet in front of me, and then more. I hesitated, knowing that I couldn't match Brian's kick, and suddenly felt tired, despite seeing the downhill finish. Then the man with the pom-pom tapped me on the right shoulder, and said "Let's go!" With his encouragement I launched into my best sprint. I didn't catch Brian but I didn't lose sight of him either, so that was a good outcome. Afterwards I saw that Garmin clocked me at 9.9 miles per hour. Brian must have broken 10 mph. 57 seconds after hearing the mile 3 alert, I crossed the finish line! 26:22 on the Garmin, 26:19 official chip time. Brian won by 4 seconds, but I was quite satisfied because this was definitely my fastest run in a very long time, going back to summer 2020 when I ran sub-26 minutes in a 5K and sub-7 minutes in a one-mile race. 

I'm pretty happy with these statistics, from the steady progression
in pace from start-to-finish, to keeping my heart rate within sustainable Zone 4

I checked the left shoe immediately after stopping. Although the knot had come a little loose, it never completely untied. Immediately after the race, I felt a little pain in the left gluteus, probably 2 or 3 on the 0 - 10 scale, but no worse. I stretched a bit and that helped. After watching Bonnie's finish - she had a great sprint to the finish line - we stayed to cheer Beverly Minor in the 1-mile race and Brenden Minor in the 50-meter dash. Going home in my new car, the heated seats really helped! Thanks to the built-in heating pad, my pain was nearly gone by the end of the 30-minute drive home.

Bonnie in the last 1/4 mile

With our medals after the race

Brian is #1 based on clock time, 
but I'm #1 thanks to age-grading.

Beverly Minor finishing the 1-mile race

Runner 164 is our real #1, on his way to a straight-line finish
 in the 2-year old division of the 50-meter dash.

October 10, 2021: The Bank of America Chicago Marathon

A quarter-century ago, I lived in metro Chicago, working as a young chemistry professor at Northwestern University. The work was challenging, but I was professionally successful. Most surprisingly to this boy from southeast Texas, I figured out how to survive five months of winter. There were some incredibly sad times. In spring 1997, one of the graduate students that I mentored died in his sleep, from Marfan's Syndrome. This was upsetting for everyone in the lab and many in the department, including me as his research advisor. Then in December 1997, my first wife suffered a miscarriage. We had waited until I had earned tenure to start trying to have a child. This was terribly upsetting for us both. When Emory University reached out to me asking if I might be interested in a position, I originally thought I would just take a look, and if they offered me a position, I could leverage the outside offer to improve my situation at Northwestern. What surprised me was how impressed I was with the department and with the university. It didn't hurt that my interview was in January 1998, experiencing the mild winter in Atlanta compared with the frigidity of Chicago. Over the next few months, one thing led to another, and by end of the summer of 1998, I accepted a professorship at Emory University. We moved to Atlanta in October 1998. Over the years, I've maintained a negative view of Chicago. The last time that I went there was for a conference around 2005. But in the past couple of years, I decided that I needed to revisit Chicago, see if I can take some positive memories. So I applied for the Chicago Marathon through the lottery, and was accepted on the second attempt! 

"L" ticket

Unfortunately, my training was delayed by several weeks by an unexpected bout with spinal arthritis. By mid-July, I could run without pain. Coach Carl Leivers arranged a 16-week training program, which was effectively two weeks of recovery and a 14-week marathon build. At my request, he put together a training schedule that got me up to 14-mile, 16-mile, and 18-mile long runs, then 20-mile and 22-mile training runs, which I completed on the Tucker Middle School track, to get my legs accustomed to running a flat course. I completed all of the training runs, but the last 2 miles of every single long run was excruciatingly difficult. I felt like I was a few weeks behind in training - I was a few weeks behind in training. It reminded me of Calculus II and Quantum Mechanics courses in college, where the material made sense but only a few weeks after we had covered it. Those were my lowest grades in college.

But there was no delaying the Chicago Marathon! Everything was in place, and so Bonnie and I flew to the Windy City on Friday October 8. We stayed at the Silversmith Hotel on Wabash Avenue, just a few blocks from the start and finish line. We enjoyed delicious meals at Nando's Peri-Peri (Portuguese), Barrio (Mexican), Uncle Mike's (Filipino), Remington's (American), Goddess and the Baker (breakfast), Siena Tavern (Italian), Artopolis (Greek), and for the last evening, a home-cooked meal with Hannah Chung and Jon-Peter Kelly, friends from Atlanta that recently moved to Chicago. I also had a nice lunch reunion with SonBinh Nguyen, one of my colleagues who is still at Northwestern. On Saturday we went to Evanston, took a look at my old house from the street - very different 23 years later. On Monday we took an architecture boat tour on the Chicago River and Lake Michigan, seeing how the skyline had changed since 1998, and also recalling good memories at the Lyric Opera, the Joffrey Ballet, and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra.

Kiss for good luck!

At Buckingham Fountain before the start

For the marathon, I was in wave 2, corral J, for runners expecting to finish in 4:10 - 4:20. That might have been realistic if I had experienced the ideal training cycle and had perfect running conditions, but neither was the case on Sunday morning October 10, with 72 deg F temperature at the start. As I lined up in the very back row of my corral, I saw another runner wearing a shirt "Overconfident & Undertrained". I hoped that I was neither overconfident nor undertrained. My strategy was to stay on a conservative 2:00 run / 0:30 walk interval pattern, running very easily for the first half marathon, trying for as slow as 2:30, then picking up the pace at the very end to finish in less than 5 hours, giving myself a chance at a negative split effort. 

In corral J

Our corral started at 8:15 am, to the music of the Alan Parsons Project, "Sirius", which was the opening music for Chicago Bulls basketball during the Michael Jordan era, the second half of which coincided with my time in Chicago. I had studied the map for mile 1 in microscopic detail, planning 3-minute goals coinciding with quarter-mile landmarks. I was aiming for a 12-minute first mile, and passed the mile 1 marker at 11:20. So that was a little faster than expected, but I considered anything slower than 11 min/mile a successful opening. I worked my way through downtown Chicago, appreciating the incredible crowd support. Everyone had said that Chicago is "pancake flat", but that's not exactly true. In addition to the occasional overpass or underpass, the areas along the Chicago River are built up, so there is a slight incline heading up to each bridge. Just past the mile 3 marker, I spotted Bonnie, stopped for a couple of seconds to grab her hands, then continued running north on LaSalle Street. 

Mile 3: "Marathons are easy!"

I passed the 5K mark at 34:25 and the 8K mark at 55:12, just over an 11 min / mile pace. I actively kept slowing myself down as we made our way past the Gold Coast into Lincoln Park - I remembered going to a party there many years ago. 10K mark at 1:09:05, still working at the slightly slower than 11 min / mile pace. At times there was a little moisture in the air, but it never really rained. However there was a light breeze which helped moderate the temperature, especially after I had worked up a bit of a sweat. The race route paralleled Lake Shore Drive for about 1/2 mile. Some of the drivers were honking to encourage us, while people lined the other side of the street to cheer us on. Making the turn at Sheridan Road, I had expected to see the Loyola University of Chicago campus, but it turns out that was a few miles further north. As we turned onto Broadway at the northernmost end of the route, there was a large screen showing messages to runners. One showed "Hi Mom!" which I figured applied to about 30% of the runners. There were quite a few runners around, so messages to me didn't appear as I passed the screen, but after the race I saw three cheer cards for me - thanks Brian and Beverly Minor, Judy Tennell, Robin Valentine, and Kristi Swartz! 

Eight miles in, I was still feeling good, enjoying the experience. My mantra was "Patience." The Beastie Boys' "You Gotta Fight for Your Right to Party!" was played as I turned the corner to head south on Broadway, followed a few blocks later by a live band playing an old Beatles pop song, although I couldn't remember the specific song after the race. As we ran near Wrigleyville, I realized it's a shame that I never made it to a Chicago Cubs game in six years. In Boystown, I had expected a big drag show, but this year it was just a small stage with four dancers. By the time that I came through, it was probably 1-1/2 hours since the first runners had passed, so perhaps the show was winding down. 15K at 1:42:38, that amounted to an 11 flat min / mile pace. It was now 10 am, more than 1/3 of the way through the marathon, although I tried to just focus on running the mile that I was in. I began to wonder who had won the overall marathon, as the leading men and women runners would have finished by then, with a 46 minute headstart on me, running twice as fast. The crowd support continued, if anything growing stronger as we worked our way south toward downtown. 20K at 2:16:50, half marathon mark at 2:24:28, about 5 minutes faster than planned. That meant that I was now committed to a 4:49 finish if I was going for the negative split goal. Maybe I ran too fast in the first half, but I don't think that I could have moved much more slowly. I saw Bonnie again at this stage, as I worked my way around the Chicago loop, then heading west to begin the second half of the race. 

Half marathon: no problem!

I was determined to maintain the easy pace. Knowing that my training had not been great, I didn't plan to speed up until mile 25 or so, assuming that I would have anything left in my legs. A sign announced our entrance to Greektown, confirmed by the delicious aroma of pita and shwarma. We ran about 1-1/2 miles due west toward the United Center, crossing the 25K mark at 2:51:42, still run-walk at the steady 11 min / mile pace. We turned back to run east toward the city, seeing the Willis Tower in the distance as our landmark. At the mile 17 water station, volunteers were handing out wet sponges. I took one, mopped my face, which felt good. Most people threw away their sponges, but I decided to hold onto mine. Turning south on Halsted, crossing the Eisenhower expressway, somehow I turned my ankle on a gap in the asphalt. Arggh, I didn't need that distraction! It wasn't too painful, but it did bother me for the rest of the run. Turning at the University of Illinois-Chicago, I remembered visiting the campus some 25 years ago, but struggled to remember what I might have lectured on. Possibly it was an overview seminar. Back then, I had a few projects underway, but all of them at relatively early stages. 

I began to feel uncomfortable by this stage. I had run nice and slowly, nonetheless my quads were getting sore, the ankle was bothering me, and I was getting warm. 30K at 3:28:13, I was beginning to slow down, just when I wanted to stay steady. Doubts began to creep into my mind. My mantra changed to "Glide", to remind myself to run with good form. That helped, but the soreness in my quads was beginning to limit my stride. Then just past the 19 mile sign, we turned onto 18th Street, into the heart of Pilsen. This was originally a Czech neighborhood, but in the mid-20th century became more Latino. Happily, the crowd support dramatically increased, which helped me pick up the pace, at least for a few minutes. Then things grew quiet again, turning south on Halsted Street, passing the 20-mile mark. My watch was at 3:44:26. On a good day, I could expect to finish the last 10K in an hour. That would have smashed my negative split goal, and possibly have given me my second-best finish. I tried to maintain the 2:00 run / 0:30 walk intervals, but was having trouble forcing myself to resume running. The neighborhood became more industrial, not much stimulation. Turning east onto Cermak Road, I saw a runner down on the left, although he was conscious, attended by medics, and seemed to have a leg problem. We went down into an underpass below an interstate highway, where it was so dark that I had to remove my sunglasses, after I nearly collided with a slower runner. I didn't think that there was anyone slower than me out there. On a bridge crossing the Chicago river, another runner was down on the right, again conscious and receiving care. He looked like he was completely exhausted. The temperatures were now uncomfortably warm. By this time I had received a second sponge, to periodically squeeze over my head, even down my legs. At the water stops I took an extra cup just to wet down the sponge, which was a good move. Fortunately all of the aid stations were well manned with plenty of Gatorade and water. 

Somehow I didn't hear Bonnie calling my name

Now I was entering Chinatown. Crowd support increased again, along with the sounds of drummers, so loud that I completely missed hearing or seeing Bonnie. I wasn't expecting to see her at Chinatown, but she took the "L" from downtown to the Chinatown station. Turning right under the Chinatown Gateway, I fondly remembered coming here on a couple of occasions for authentic Chinese cuisine. That helped me to continue for a few more minutes. But the route passed through another interstate interchange, most of which I walked through. 35K at 4:07:18. I had covered that last 5K at a 12:30 min / mile pace, which wasn't going to get me to the finish line in a negative split. Around this point, I noticed that the alert system had changed from yellow (moderate alert) to red (high alert). At that moment, I failed to deploy my fight mantra. It was just a matter of getting to the finish. Passing the mile 22 marker, all I could remember was how difficult the 22 mile long run had been two weeks ago.  

Still upright but obviously exhausted

The race route was now on an access road paralleling Interstate 90, in what I called mile "twenty-awful". Everything hurt, so much so that the twisted ankle wasn't necessarily my biggest problem. Finally, we crossed the interstate on 33rd Street. I had forgotten the details of the race map, and was dismayed when we turned south(!) on State Street. I even said to someone running near me, "We're going the wrong way!" We were on the Illinois Institute of Technology campus, which looked much nicer than I recalled from a visit many years ago on a snowy winter day. There were not too many people to cheer us on, as we passed the mile 23 sign. Turning left onto 35th Street, that was now our southernmost part of the run. Crossing Michigan Avenue, then turning left onto Indiana Avenue, finally in the home stretch of this very long run. At 31st Street, we made a jog onto Michigan Avenue, approaching the mile 24 marker. "9 laps on the track", as Coach Carl would say. Had I felt better, this is where I could have made a move, only 2.2 miles to the finish. But instead I decided to conserve energy and walked for a couple of blocks. After crossing the interstate highway, I returned to the run - walk plan for the rest of the way. I began looking for the Willis Tower as a landmark far in the distance. Crossing Cermak Road, right before the mile 25 sign, I heard Bonnie call out - I turned and waved and perhaps even managed to smile! 40K at 4:51:24, wow, that was a 14 min / mile pace for the past 5K. A sub-five hour finish was now impossible. With only "5 laps" to go on the track I thought I should run the rest of the way, but ... I didn't feel well enough to break the run - walk pattern. I remembered how I had picked up the pace at the end in the New York City Marathon, but today I didn't have that strength. I just didn't slow down as badly as I had from miles 20 to 25. 

Mile 25

Thank goodness for the sponge!

Shortly before reaching the right turn onto Roosevelt Road, the runners were constricted to the left side of the street, as the "800 meters to the finish" sign came into view. That made us run a little further, when I was trying to follow the blue chalk line marking the shortest route to the finish. There were a couple of course marshals, who pulled someone off of the course. Aha, a bandit without a bib, who wasn't going to get into the finish area to pick up a medal. Roosevelt Road was uphill, crossing a train track, but I was prepared for that. I just took my time, even took a 30 second walk break. The road was a lot longer than it had looked from the pace car in the 2019 television broadcast, such a long distance between the "400 meters" and "300 meters" sign. After forever, we turned left onto Columbus Drive. 200 meters to go. I could see the finish line up ahead. We passed over a timing mat, to signal our names to the announcer. I listened for my name, didn't hear it, but there were quite a few runners around me. The music into the finish line was "Thunderstruck" by AC/DC. But there was no lightning to spark my legs to speed up into the finish. At least I ran and did not walk as I crossed the finish line. 5:08:30. My second slowest marathon - the slowest being the one that I foolishly ran injured. 

My first thoughts upon finishing were that I was glad that I wasn't running anything at all the next weekend (the PNC 10-miler and 5K in Atlanta on October 17) and that I was 100% comfortable with my resolution not to run a marathon in 2022. I was disappointed that I didn't run this marathon better. The twisted ankle at mile 17 didn't help. But I just wasn't prepared to run 26.2 miles on this day. After a few days of reflection, I felt better and more accepting about my performance. My training was limited by factors beyond my control. I began to focus on the remarkable fact that I recovered in time to get into good enough shape to cover the distance from start to finish. 

The Chicago Marathon was really well organized in every way. 
I definitely recommend it if you're looking for a big city marathon!

More importantly, I left Chicago with a more balanced view of my time here. There were some good times, some tough times. I have no regrets about permanently escaping the harsh winters. But I now have a lot of positive memories from this trip, even with the tough marathon experience on Sunday.