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| Panorama shortly before we began today's race. |
Kirkwood is a neighborhood located on the eastern edge of the City of Atlanta, adjoining the Oakhurst neighborhood of Decatur. At one time, Kirkwood was an independent city, designed as a "streetcar suburb". In fact, in the first part of the 20th century, a streetcar line connected the campus of Agnes Scott College in downtown Decatur with downtown Atlanta. In Kirkwood, the line ran along Oakview Road, now a relatively quiet winding residential drive.
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| Photo downloaded from liveitpatlanta.com/kirkwood-30317 The race began in front of the Valero station. |
Although Kirkwood is just a few miles south of the Emory University campus and my old home in Druid Hills, I may not have set foot in Kirkwood until I began running a few years ago. When the Big Peach Running Company store was located in downtown Decatur, their group run routes often took us through the hills of Oakhurst and Kirkwood. The store recently moved a couple of miles north to a larger building with plenty of free parking, a definite upgrade for the store, but I miss some of the old routes.
I've heard of the Kirkwood 5K race in previous years, but had never run it. Carl Line and I decided to register for the race, after it was heavily promoted during a group run a few weeks ago. I was looking forward to another friendly competition, although Carl was taking it a bit easy today, saving his legs for a half-marathon tomorrow.
Having won third place age group awards in the past two 5K races, Bonnie said "Bring home another third place medal!" as I left the house this morning. "We'll see..." I said. I didn't think that there was much chance of that today, given the larger field of participants and the age group spreads. Over 600 people had registered in advance, and with race day registration, 667 runners finished today. Moreover, instead of nice small 5-year age groups, this race had 10-year age groups. And most of the grandmasters were all lumped together in the 55+ age group!
It was a nice morning for a walk, but with temperatures in the low 70's, and 85% humidity, the run promised a challenge. One of the Big Peach Running Company slogans is "Heat, hills, and humidity: Welcome to Atlanta!" We're definitely into early summer. Fortunately I was well hydrated in preparation for today's race, following advice I had heard about drinking electrolyte mixes the day before summer race or a long run.
I arrived about an hour ahead of time. Carl joined me for a nice 2-1/2 mile warmup along part of the route. He had already run a mile or so from the parking lot at the East Lake MARTA station, whereas I found street parking on Oakview Road a couple of blocks from the start-finish area. Midway through our warmup, we encountered a few people that we knew. They were run leaders for "In-Training-for-Peachtree" out of Fleet Feet in downtown Decatur, taking a water break midway through their workout. We chatted for a moment, and then Carl and I headed back to downtown Kirkwood. The race would begin at the busy intersection of Hosea Williams Drive and Oakview Road. Runners waited in a nearby park and on the sidewalks adjacent to the start until just a few minutes before the 8:30 am start time. Suddenly the police closed off a lane of Oakview Road, an inflated "Start" arch was raised, and more than 600 runners poured onto the street. I wasn't sure quite where to place myself given that I didn't know precisely where the start line was located. As luck would have it, Carl and I ended up about 100 people behind the starting line. I suppose I successfully sized up the people around me, finding the sweet spot between the serious greyhound runners up front, and a larger pack of casual fun runners behind.
We didn't start right at 8:30 am, but a few minutes after, I noticed a man with a megaphone 100 feet in front of the starting arch. I couldn't hear a word he said, and I assumed that he was giving pre-race instructions. Suddenly the runners in front took off! I don't know if Carl noticed at first, he may have even been turned around chatting with someone behind him at the official start, but I didn't hear an airhorn or the report of a starting pistol. Anyway I started running and didn't see Carl again. Runners squeezed through the arch over the timing mats onto a single lane of roadway, and I must have gone 100 yards before I could find my pace. As far as I could tell, no one was trampled. There were a lot of children in this race. Early on, I had to watch carefully that I didn't run over any kids, but managed to get through the first half-mile without injuring anyone. I was running easily. By the time that we reached the turn from Oakview Road, I was running at an 8:00 min / mile pace, but determined to save my energy for the long uphill stretch to come in mile 2.
As we turned from Oakview Road onto First Avenue, we ran downhill, and I picked up some speed. I tried not to over-exert myself and just take advantage of the gravity. I passed the Mile 1 marker around 7:55 elapsed. Surprisingly, Carl had not caught up to me. First Avenue briefly turned into Hillcrest Avenue, the street name foreshadowing the challenge to come on Sisson Avenue. We've run Sisson Avenue in many Big Peach group runs. I remembered that it was a long straight road, mostly uphill in the northward direction. It was a challenge in every group run: now try to imagine running it faster in a race! Remembering to take shorter steps, I made decent progress up the first hill. Up and over a crest, I caught a momentary breather. I didn't realize it at the time, but my heart rate maxxed out as I reached the top of the hill, about 12 minutes into the race. Typically I can run hard for only one more mile once that happens. The bad news was, we were only halfway through a 3.11 mile, 5K race route, aiming for a 24 to 25 minute finish. Somewhere along Sisson Avenue, volunteers offered water. I held out my hand, barely slowing down as I accepted a cup of water. I drank the entire cup while running, in three or four gulps, making sure that anything that spilled would land on my shirt, cooling me down just a little.
Now we were onto the second hill on Sisson Avenue. The hills weren't that steep, but they were long stretches, rising about 50 feet over a third of a mile. For the entire race, I had run near the cones in the middle of the road, running the tangents, determined not to cover more than 5000 meters. Finally I saw in the distance the terminus of Sisson Avenue with College Avenue. Before making the left turn, there was a little white poodle in the road, running back-and-forth amongst the people! As I approached, s/he ran to the side of the roadway. But someone running to my right must have frightened the poor doggy, who suddenly dashed back into the middle of the road, right in front of me! I barely managed to avoid running over the little poodle. It could have been very bad for little Fluffy, but I'm not certain that I would have stayed on my feet if I had tripped over the small dog.
Catastrophe averted, I turned left onto College Avenue, running alongside the MARTA tracks. I recalled running in the opposite direction in the Publix Georgia Marathons in 2017 and 2018. Mile 2 elapsed, 16:05 total, meaning that I had covered mile 2 in 8:10. That wasn't too bad, considering the challenge of the Sisson Avenue hills! The road wasn't too hilly but I definitely noticed when we ran uphill, and failed to appreciate any downhill sections, although they showed up when I studied the elevation map after the race. I tried to keep up with the other runners around me, but I was beginning to lose ground on some of them. A couple of faster and stronger (and thankfully, younger) runners opened up a nice big gap on me. I would not catch up to them. We had run about 1/2 mile on College Avenue when the street terminated in a left turn onto Howard Avenue, around 19:30 elapsed. At the pace that I had run, I probably had only one more kilometer to run. A father-son couple began to pass me: I put on a little surge to keep up with them. The father was talking with his son, the son was running well and consistently, while I was simply trying to suck down enough oxygen molecules to keep moving. Father and son got ahead of me, I put on one more surge to catch up for just a moment, then they seemingly effortlessly opened up a gap that I was not to close.
As the blocks ticked by, I began to worry that Carl would catch up to me: I quickly looked over my shoulder trying to spy his patriotic running kit: not in sight. Run, run, run, then against my better judgment I looked again, expecting to see Carl right behind me. I saw a flash of white: looked again, nope, it wasn't Carl. Didn't my Mom tell me not to look behind me when I ran? Advice remembered but not heeded from my childhood five decades ago.... With a block to go, I saw ahead the intersection with Hosea Williams Drive: The End Is Near! Then I remembered that an hour earlier, I had seen a volunteer put down a Mile 3 marker, AFTER the turn. I still needed to run more than 0.11 miles, more than a minute to go.
I began to drunkenly weave in the roadway: not much further, don't add any unnecessary steps. Finally I made the turn onto Hosea Williams Drive. As I passed the mile 3 marker, a quick glance at my watch showed 24 minutes and some seconds. Checking my Garmin data afterwards, that was 24:13 elapsed, an 8:08 mile according to my Garmin stats. OOOh, I won't break 25 minutes unless I can really hustle. I tried to speed up, but a couple of young runners blew past me, followed by a man pushing a stroller. One more left turn onto Kirkwood Avenue, and there was the Finish Line! Just a couple dozen more steps, and over the timing mat. 25:09 official - and I had finished ahead of Carl!
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| I didn't have the toughness needed to break 25 minutes. If I had, maybe I would have won the age group! |
Whew, that was hard work. I could not have maintained that pace more than a few steps beyond the finish line, but I guess I managed the 5.00 kilometer distance just right, considering that my slowest mile split was 8:10, even with the hills. Carl crossed the finish line exactly one minute later. He didn't look tired at all, as he immediately congratulated me on my race. I was still out of breath, but slowly regained my equilibrium over the next few minutes.
After I picked up a bottle of water, I walked over to a tent where Carl was viewing the results, projected on a large screen. The winner was a 46-year-old man who finished in 18:03, under a 6 minute / mile pace. As the results scrolled down, I saw a few 50-year old men with fast times posted, then a 54-year old in 22:28 (24th place). The results scrolled through the 24 minute finishers: "Carl, no one older than 54 so far!" Then at 25:02, a 60-year-old man in 72nd place, and then my name at 25:09, 56-year-old, 76st place. "Carl, I was beaten by a 60-year-old, but it looks like I got second! I missed first place by just 7 seconds!" Carl's name followed at 26:09, in 102nd place. We weren't sure of his placement in the first pass, but I watched again more carefully as the results scrolled by again, confirming my second-place age group finish, and Carl was third!
The awards were small plaques glued onto a railroad spike! Our age group was the very last one called, men ages 55 and above. When they called Carl's name for third, and then mine for second, I was beaming, with a huge smile acknowledging the applause. The spike was surprisingly heavy - ergo, an authentic iron spike. It's an unusual award but memorable, and perfectly appropriate, given the history of Kirkwood as a streetcar suburb!
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