November 26, 2020: The Peachtree Road Race 10K, virtual edition

Coach Carl asked us a few days ago to share with the training group what we were thankful for this year. Here was my response: 

I'm thankful for: 

• Bonnie, whose kindness and gentle humor cheers the most difficult days. 
• My friends, family, co-workers and students, who have all survived the pandemic, so far. 
• My employment, which is stable and where I can work safely. 
• Running outdoors, calming my mood and maintaining my mental and physical strength.   
• And I’m looking forward to the arrival of year 2021.  

• Frank McDonald, Nov 25 2020

All smiles as we left the house

Atlanta Track Club originally postponed the Peachtree Road Race from Independence Day to Thanksgiving, hoping that the COVID pandemic might be under control by now. I was skeptical, but as with most of my concerns about this pandemic, I was hoping to be proven wrong. When the track club announced a few months ago that the race would be virtual, I wasn't at all surprised. However, the track club mailed out the commemorative shirts in October, along with bibs with the number "2020". Originally, I wasn't planning to wear the bib, but Bonnie encouraged me to do so. 

Between the two of us, we're ready for more than 20 miles today! 

It began raining yesterday, and the weather forecast was for rain through this morning, so we didn't set an alarm. When I awoke around 6:30 am, the rain had stopped, the weather radar confirmed that the front was to our east and moving away, and so I woke Bonnie up around 7 am, and eventually we made our way across town to the northern terminus of the Westside Beltline, where we had both decided to run our virtual Peachtree Road Races. 

Easy dynamic stretching before beginning

As part of my marathon training program, today I was scheduled to run 14 miles. Coach Carl emphasized that mileage was more important than pace, so I decided that I had better do at least half of the 14 miles before I actually started the virtual race. Shortly before 9:00 am, I started off on a 7.55 mile easy run. The temperature was 64 degrees F with 93% humidity, unusually warm for November. My watch was set to kilometers in anticipation of the 10K race to come, so I maintained a steady pace between 6 - 7 min / km, taking plenty of walk breaks every 5 - 10 minutes, especially if I found that I was moving a little too fast. The Beltline wasn't too crowded today, but most runners were wishing each other "Happy Thanksgiving" as we passed, and many were wearing either the Peachtree Road Race or the "2020" bib. That was a real highlight today, feeling a sense of community with the other runners who all would have normally lined up with me on July 4, on Peachtree Road near Lenox Mall. I ran the entire paved length of the Westside Beltline, nearly 6 kilometers to its current southern terminus at University Avenue, and then retraced my steps, adding a little loop through a park at the northern terminus to get 7.55 miles upon returning to the car, averaging a 10:17 min / mile pace. I had not brought water with me, but my plan was to stop at the car, hydrate and take a gel, and change into a fresh singlet for the 10K "race". That took about 10 minutes, but I was moving so I figured that was OK. However, I never stopped sweating during my short break. 

I passed Bonnie on my return, nearly 5 miles in

By the time I was ready to start the 10K, it was after 10:20 am, and the temperature was 70 degrees F. I felt a little soreness in my legs, but I figured it was nothing to worry about. My plan was to run this pretty easily, no faster than half-marathon pace (ca. 9:00 min / mile). With the watch set at metric units, the plan was to run between 5:30 min / km and 6:00 min / km (8:51 - 9:39 min / mi), hoping to save enough energy for a strong final kilometer. My only time goal was to finish in less than 60 minutes, which is usually not too difficult for me.  

Today's 10K route

The first two kilometers went pretty smoothly, at 5:55 and 5:52. As I finished the first stretch of the Beltline and crossed the street to run the wide sidewalk on White Street, I saw Bonnie on her way back. I was only 3 kilometers into my route, she had only 3 kilometers to finish. Turning up the small uphill path to the Lawton Street overpass, then crossing over the Beltline and heading back down the ramp to resume on the actual Beltline, the 4 kilometer alert sounded. Both kilometers 3 and 4 were at 5:47 pace. 

Still smiling at 3 km

The fifth kilometer was gently but inexorably uphill. I couldn't see it but I knew about the elevation increase from previous runs, and my body could feel it. After passing through the tunnel under Lee Street and the north-south MARTA line, the kilometer 5 alert sounded, with 6:00 min for that kilometer, 29:21 elapsed at the halfway point. 

I ran just a little further to what I had previously identified as my 5K landmark, then slowed to turn around, and decided that I really needed a walk break. Just 30 seconds. I looked at my heartrate for the first time near the end of 30 seconds, and was surprised to see it was in the high-160s. So I extended the walk break to a full minute. And then two minutes, which turned into ... 10 minutes. 

I walked the entire sixth kilometer, in 10:24. 

Somehow I had completely lost interest in the "project", no longer cared much about a 60 minute finish. 11 miles into the day, and I was ready to quit. "Fortunately" the car was at least 2.5 miles away. I'm sufficiently germophobic so that I wasn't going to take an Uber or Lyft. It would be nice to just walk back. My legs were really sore, but I wasn't injured, just tired. How am I going to manage a half-marathon in two weeks? 

The 6 kilometer alert snapped me out of my deep thoughts, and I began to run again, but not very fast. Kilometer 7 was at a 6:45 min / km pace, slower than I had done most of my "easy" miles earlier this morning. Then I had to take another walk break, and couple of minutes later, yet another, and then another pretty long break. 7:47 for kilometer 8, equal to mile 5, in 54:17 elapsed. And then I went even slower, walking most of kilometer 9, in 9:29. 

With just 1 kilometer to go, I willed myself to run straight through to the finish. But I wasn't going very fast, even though the route was now mostly downhill, except for a couple of overpasses. I knew that after I crossed the Martin Luther King Drive overpass, it would be downhill to the finish line. But at the top of the overpass, the 10 kilometer alert sounded, 6:17 for that last kilometer and 1:10:03 elapsed. After a few more steps, I stopped the watch to ensure that I had 6.22 miles, 1:10:08 elapsed. 

Look at the Max HR numbers in the far right column.

Knowing that I was about a quarter of a mile short of 14 miles, I restarted the watch, and restarted running. Somehow I didn't feel so bad for that last little jaunt, running past the car for half a block to make sure that the total for the day would show up on Strava as >14.00 miles (14.03 miles recorded). 

What went wrong today? I felt as beaten up as I had after my very first half marathon nearly 6 years ago. I took a shower, and napped for much of the afternoon. It wasn't until we were nearly ready to go to Bonnie's parents' home for an outdoor Thanksgiving dinner on their deck, and I went to the bathroom before leaving. And then I realized that was the first time that I had urinated since before we left the house for this morning's run, 8 hours earlier. I had even rehydrated fairly well on the drive home, and during lunch between two naps. 

Anyway I hope that is what went wrong. I realized that I had no recollection of deliberately hydrating yesterday, and had been cautious not to drink much water at home this morning. I didn't want to make a bathroom stop mid-run, especially since there are no public restrooms on the Westside Beltline. I also didn't carry any water with me during either run today, as I figured drinking some water after the first 7-1/2 miles and before the 10K race would be enough. 

Pace in grey, heartrate in red. That's the story of today's race. 

When I checked my Garmin stats this evening, I saw that my heartrate had been pretty high throughout the 10K "race". During the earlier 7.55 mile run, it had averaged 150 bpm and was never higher than 162 beats per minute, with the exception of one short 170 bpm spike about 6 miles in. But in the 10K race, I was running at 160 bpm before the end of the first kilometer, and it kept going up from there, hitting 180 bpm for several minutes around the 4 kilometer mark. No wonder I needed to take a walk break at the halfway point. And it was undoubtably a good thing that I did so. Interestingly, I never felt acutely thirsty at any time. 

I found an interesting article on the connection between elevated heartrate and dehydration in Runner's World, titled "The Tell-Tale Heart." So before my next long run, I need to remember to hydrate thoroughly the day before, and carry water with me during the run! I know this and I typically do this, but somehow the pre-race preparation slipped my mind this week. Coupled with my poor decision not to carry water with me on either stage of today's run, I had set myself up for a poor outcome. At least I hope that's what went wrong.   

November 14, 2020: Atlanta Track Club 800 meter race

Today's blog post imagines a race narrated by Ray Hudson and Phil Schoen, my favorite soccer commentators.

Phil: Good morning to you ladies and gentlemen, broadcasting on a beautiful crisp Saturday morning near the Atlanta Track Club offices.

Ray: Lots of good cheer in a hidden neighborhood of brewpubs, wedged in between Peachtree Creek and the interstate highway. 

Phil: The Atlanta Track Club has created a wonderful series of members-only races, running by appointment. 

Ray: An ingenious paragon of creativity in this ghastly year of COVID.

Phil: And this is the final event of 2020, the Grand Prix 800 meter race. Ray, what is the strategy for an 800 meter race?

Ray: Well Phil, too many runners underestimate this distance. 

Phil: What do you mean, it's only half a mile. Most runners aren't even warmed up at half a mile. 

Ray: This race finishes faster than a teenage lad imagining his first kiss.  

Phil: I won't try to explain. 

Ray: The race is hard, but it doesn't last long. 

Phil: OK Ray, enough said. Anyway, we're following Frank McDonald's race this morning. He's scheduled for the 8:02 am starting slot. 

Ray: He's facing a real challenge. Bryan Greenberg just ran a 2:59 finish. Frankie boy has never broken 3 minutes for this distance. 

Phil: But Ray, he's coached by Carl Leivers. Many of Carl's runners have a reputation for speed, including the women's winner at the 10-miler on November 1. 

Ray: Frank is built more for the long run. He can stretch out a marathon session for more than four, even five hours. Really incredible. Except, we're talking about running. 

Phil: This is beside the point, but I interviewed Frank several years ago. Did you know that he lived in Catalunya for three months? 

Ray: You don't say. Is he a Barça fan? 

Phil: Absolutely, he loves the team, the city, the people. He even plans to run the marathon in Barcelona once the pandemic has ended. 

Ray: Gotta love his odds today if he is one of the 'Culés! 

Phil: Some of his Spanish friends call him "Paco". 

Ray: Then I think this Barça hombre has a fightin' chance of winning this race! And here comes Paco now, beginning his warmup! Olé!! 

Phil: He's had a haircut since we last saw him in the 10-Miler. 

Ray: I wonder which bonnie lass gave him such a nice trim? 

Phil: Uh Ray, his wife is named Bonnie. 

Ray: Sounds like a nice Irish girl. 

Phil: Actually, she's Korean, and she's his inspiration. 

10 minutes before the start

Ray: Paco McDonald? En español, lo llamo Paco Maldonado. 

Phil: Ray, the runners are lining up. 

Ray: No, this is another heat, featuring speedster Tommy Daniels. He's on the Wakanda Olympic Team. 

Ray: Tommy Daniels reminds me of Leo Messi: He disperses his atoms on one side of the field and puts them back together on the other side. That's what happened on the back stretch. 

Phil: Let's go back to the start, I think that Frank McDonald is about to begin his race. 

Ray: Paco is sizing up the competition, he takes the number 2 slot, to the right of a much faster man. 

Phil: For the viewers at home, this is the route. About 250 meters on Ottley Drive, then a right turn onto Clayton Road, and then a 400 meter dash to the finish line on Armour Drive. 

Phil: Ray, what do you think of the course? It's not the traditional two laps around an oval. 

Ray: This course is as flat as a 

Phil [quickly interrupting]: Track, no hills on this course. Ray, what does a runner think about in the minute before the 800 meter race? 

Ray: I'll bet that Paco is thinking about some hills right now. 

The starting line

Phil: Today's starting official is a speedster in his own right, Atlanta Track Club's Enrique Tomas. 

Ray: Is Paco complaining to the starter? 

Phil: No, he's saying "Good luck" to the other runners. 

Ray: "¡Buena suerte!" or in Catalan, "Bona sort!"  

Phil: The starter raises the gun, and fires! 

Ray: The crack of the pistol, and Paco has started quicker than a jackrabbit on a hot date! 

Phil: Ray, it's important in the first 200 meters that the runners get out fast and relaxed. Frank is on the left but he doesn't need to cut in right away. He has a step or two on the other man! 

Ray: This start is as electrifying as a Jimi Hendrix guitar going into a hot tub!

Phil: Looks like Frank has been training! 

Ray: Centipedes fantasize about having just two legs like his. 

Phil: They are approaching the first right turn, running neck-to-neck. 

Ray: Euclid postulated the right angle in ancient Greece.

Phil: Uh oh, Frank took a few extra steps on the turn, plus he just dodged a pothole. 

Ray: Paco took that turn so wide, I thought he was an 18-wheeler. 

Phil: The other man is now clearly in front. But Frank needs to stay relaxed and fast. Don't make any sudden bursts during this part of the race. He's moving at a 5:30 min / mile pace, that can get him to the finish line around 2:45. 

Ray: Like Leo Messi, Paco needs to invent a passing lane. 

Phil: They are already at the second and final turn onto Armour. 

Ray: Jumpin' Jack Flash! Paco follows the lead runner more tightly, no Pythagorean theorem this time.

Phil: But I don't know if it will do him enough good. The other man is opening up a bigger gap. This is where Frank must consciously pick up the pace, otherwise he will slow down. 

Ray: Ooo, Paco is no Jordi Alba. You can see it in his face, he is gasping for air like a goldfish in a dirty pond. Now he's slower than a 6 min / mile pace. 

Phil: The best advice I've heard for the last 200 meters is to imagine a slingshot, to propel yourself past the man running in front of you. 

Ray: Paco's rubber band just snapped like it's been sitting in a drawer for too long. 

Phil: The lead runner has crossed the finish line in less than 3 minutes! 

Ray: Magisterial! 

Phil: I think that Frank will miss the 3 minute goal. 

Ray: A lot of foreplay from Paco in the first 400 meters, but a disappointing finish.  

Phil: The official result: 3:10.94.  Ray, that might be a personal best for Frank. 

Ray: I dunno, Paco looked like an aqua jogger at the end, when we're expecting Michael Phelps. 

Phil: Still, he looks pretty happy. He wasn't passed by the other two in his heat.

Ray: Ah, gotta love a man with low expectations. 

Phil: He was seeded third, so second place is an improvement.

Ray: Bronze to silver, numero dos, second fiddle. 

Phil: Let's take a look at the pace chart. 

Phil: You're right Ray, he had a good start, but steadily decelerated for the rest of the race. 

Ray: Braver than a matador in a pink tutu he was. 

Phil: Before we sign off, we wish Frank's godson Brenden Minor a happy first birthday!

Ray: ¡Feliz cumpleaños, Brenden! 

November 1, 2020: Atlanta 10-Miler Extreme Hill Edition

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. 

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. 

Amateur runner's pose: everyone is ready to start their watches, then run. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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!

And the man in yellow wins second, by a long toenail! 

That was tough!

Oxygen, please! 

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. 

When we arrived at the car, David Bloomquist was changing clothes. He had finished about five minutes ahead of me - when we compared official times, I finished 6 seconds ahead of him. It would have been fun to have raced head-to-head, although we definitely would breathed all over each other the entire time.