Today's 8K race was the second in a series of Atlanta Beltline-Atlanta Track Club co-sponsored races, following the Northside 3K / 5K in April. The location and mid-July timing correlated with the former Southwest Beltline race, which was originally exclusively a 5K race, but later offered an 8K option and even a 13K, presumably running both loops in sequence. Although this race was regularly held for several years until the pandemic, the only time that I ran this race was in 2014, in my first year of running. Back then, the route was mostly unpaved: we had even started in a grass field. Eight years later, I was looking forward to running the same route as I ran last month in the Monday Nighter 10K, minus one mile through the West End neighborhood and a loop at the north end of the Westside Beltline, but in early morning temperatures, which today was 74 deg F, vs. 88 deg F last month.
But first - yesterday morning I joined a few friends in Tucker Running Club for a short shake-out run. Near the end of our loop, I was jogging the curved sidewalk from Chamblee-Tucker to Lavista Road in front of Tucker High School, when I was temporarily blinded by the morning sun at the same instant that we were passing a telephone pole next to the sidewalk. I accidentally brushed against the pole, and was surprised to feel more than just a little surface abrasion, in fact there was now a gouge in my left arm! I felt OK to finish the run, but as I finished the last half-mile, I realized that I was probably going to need more treatment than just first aid at home. I circled back to take a good look at the telephone pole:
 |
| This was at arm level. |
Let's play a word association game:
RUSTY NAIL = TETANUS
Well, that was fun!
I called as soon my doctor's office opened at 8:30 am, and fortunately there was one available appointment, later in the afternoon, so I was able to go to work at a reasonable time for several hours, and avoided possibly spending a few hours at Urgent Care. It turned out that I was the very last patient of the day. The nurse practitioner cleaned up the wound a bit more, closed it with a couple of Steristrips, and then another nurse gave me a tetanus booster.
 |
| Patched up for today's race: tetanus shot on the shoulder, antibiotic-infused bandage near the elbow. |
This morning I arrived at Monday Night Brewing about an hour before the 7:30 am start of the race, with plenty of time to pick up my bib, give my favorite MC Ronnel Blackmon a fist bump, complete an easy warmup on the Beltline, pose for a photo with other Tucker Running Club participants, and grab sunglasses and a towel with a handful of ice from my car. I was in wave B and started alongside most of the others from the Tucker Running Club.
 |
| with Kimberly Harrell, Stephanie Batson, Susie Hill, Linda Bode Phinney, Carolyn Weber |
Ronnel started our wave exactly 2 minutes after wave A had begun. We were instructed to stay on the left side of the route at all times, so that we wouldn't cross paths with the 5K runners when they began at 8 am. We had only one lane of the road, but I knew that the route would be even narrower before the end of the first mile, when we would enter the Beltline itself. In the first minutes, I tried to hold myself back, but found myself passing people. Approaching the 4:30 mark, I moved over to the right side of the road so that I could take a walk break, however I probably slowed down for only 10 - 15 seconds instead of giving myself the full 30 seconds. Bob Wells was cheering us on, and I called out "Louder Bob! I can't hear you!!" I was fired up and sped past more people until entering the Beltline. Fortunately we were spread out enough so that we could run an unhindered pace as long as we just kept aware of those around us. I knew that I was running sub-9 minute pace, but figured that was realistic for today, which would get me a sub-45-minute finish. Shortly after passing the mile 1 marker (8:47 elapsed) I took another short walk break, and jumped into the grass on the left side of the route, to avoid blocking the other runners. Kimberly Harrell passed me at that point, running strongly. The grass was wet with morning dew, so after 10 - 15 seconds, I jumped back onto the paved route and resumed running. A volunteer posted at one of the underpasses was encouraging us, "You look great! You look great!" I flashed her a big smile and a quick "thank you" as I passed.
We were running downhill so I just focused on form and reminded myself to "bank energy" and not time. Kimberly's sister Elizabeth (another Tucker Running Club member) was working at the water station, and I accepted a nearly full cup of water from another volunteer, slowing to a walk to drink as much as possible, and pouring the rest onto my towel of ice. It wasn't long after the water station, while I was taking a very short walk break around 14:30 elapsed, that I saw a motorcycle coming in the opposite direction, followed 15 seconds later by the lead runner in our race. Then I passed the mile 2 marker: 17:28 elapsed, 8:41 for mile 2. Six seconds faster per mile was perfect for a progression run. And now I just had a 5K race to finish.
As we approached the turnaround point, I recognized several other runners coming back. Kimberly was at least 30 seconds ahead of me, but I figured that I might eventually catch up since I was aiming to run mile 3 just a bit faster, and likewise for mile 4. Turning around at about 2.35 miles, I knew that the return route would be net uphill, but I was ready for the challenge. Heading uphill, I shortened my stride and maintained a high cadence, which felt good. I knew that I could lose my race if I pressed on the uphill sections. Fortunately the 24:30 walk break perfectly coincided with one of the steeper uphill sections. I took the full 30 seconds for that one. I knew that I had slowed down a bit, and passed the mile 3 marker at 26:48 elapsed, 9:20 for mile 3. So much for the progression run, but it was net uphill, so I didn't sweat it. Although by this point, I was sweating quite heavily.
Now I had just a 2 mile race to go. My idea for the progression run had been to shorten the distance of the race that I was running with each mile marker, so the idea was that when I passed the mile 4 marker, I would run a one-mile race to the finish. To this stage I was definitely on track for the 45 minute finish. And I was very familiar with the race route: just count four underpasses to get to White Street and the mile 4 marker. The first two underpasses were for Interstate 20, then a stretch of a few blocks before the next two underpasses. Unfortunately I was beginning to tire quite quickly, although I was taking the full 30 second walk breaks every 5 minutes. The volunteer was still at the same underpass but now facing toward the returning runners "You look great! You look great!" The nasty thought "You're a liar" came to my mind, but fortunately I didn't have the breathe to spare, so that saved me from being terribly rude. Arghhhh - I should not have cut short those early walk breaks! "Undertrained and Overconfident," that should be the new title of this blog. The first 5K runner flew past us in the opposite direction. I thought, "he's going to pass me before I get to the finish line," even with my 28 minute headstart. Coming to the end of the protected Beltline, past the Crayola art, for some reason it had never registered to me that we had to run uphill to get to White Street. That was the moment that my mental strength totally collapsed.
The 34:30 walk break coincided with crossing White Street, with many 5K runners coming in the opposite direction. I began running again at 35 minutes, but was no longer motivated to push myself. Passing the mile 4 marker at 36:30 (9:42 for mile 4), I was now 30 seconds behind a 45-minute finish. On a good day I can knock out an 8:30 mile at the end of a race. But today wasn't a good day, although I appreciated Bob Wells' was still there to cheer, this time encouraging me by name. I was no longer thinking about a one-mile race, it was going to be a one-mile slog. Turning onto Matthews Street for one block uphill, I took an early walk break (39:00 minutes elapsed). I shook out the last of the ice chips onto the side of the road and tucked the cold towel around my neck under the top of my singlet. When the watch beeped at 39:30, I didn't start running; when the watch beeped again at 40:00, I still was not ready to resume running. I walked for a few more seconds and by then I was nearly at Lawton Street and sped up to a jog. I thought that the 60 second walk break would have helped more than it did: after just a minute or so of easy running, I had to slow to a walk as we crossed the Lawton Avenue bridge over White Street. A dozen or more runners must have passed me at that time. I reluctantly began running again after cresting the top of the bridge, but was moving none too quickly. Ahead of me, a young man was bent over, probably vomiting into the grass by the sidewalk. On the bright side, I didn't feel that badly. I passed him and his friend as they resumed running as we made the U-turn to head down the ramp. I thought about sharing a few words of sympathy, but didn't have the energy for it, and they passed me as soon as I came off of the ramp. I think that at least one of the 5K runners must have passed me on the ramp or perhaps shortly after getting off of the ramp, but it didn't register with me.
I estimated that I would need at least 3 minutes more to reach the finish line. My watch was showing 43:45, so a 45-minute finish was now impossible. I resolved to jog my way to the finish. I could hear Ronnel cheering runners through the finish line ever since I had come off of the ramp, but I knew from past experience that the finish line wasn't all that close. It wasn't until I saw the mile 3 marker (for the 5K runners) that I knew that I had only 0.11 miles, 177 meters, about 177 steps to go. And I managed to regain a little speed. I was at the back of a rather large group of runners. I wasn't going to pass any of them, but didn't hear anyone close behind me. My goal was not to be caught from behind, and I managed to get to and past the finish line. Official chip time 46:52, I needed 10:29 for the final mile. 8 kilometers = 4.97 miles, and my watch recorded 5.00 miles, and I know that I didn't run in a straight line or perfectly run the tangents, so I'm certain that the course was perfectly accurate, thanks to the professional measurement made by Atlanta Track Club. I wobbled to a stop, then gratefully accepted a bottle of water from a volunteer. One runner was sprawled on the concrete. I badly wanted to lie down as well, but I knew that was the worst thing that I could do if I wanted to avoid every muscle freezing up, so I just kept walking slowly. Luke Butler and Jacque Hartley greeted me as I tried to catch my breath: they both had good runs today. Another runner who finished shortly after me congratulated me on being his "rabbit" - that brought a smile to my face.
 |
| I was 10th out of 22 finishers in my age group. These are chip times, so it wasn't a photofinish with anyone on this list. |
Very slowly, I walked back into Monday Night Brewing to pick up my shirt and congratulate Kimberly on her excellent run. Over the next few minutes, the others in Tucker Running Club made their way inside. I had left behind a puddle of sweat where I had stood while the others arrived, but we found a dry spot for our post-race photo.
 |
| Susie, Stephanie, Kimberly, me, Carolyn, and Wende Johnston (who had volunteered at the starting line then ran the race beginning with with a later wave, and won her age group!). My shirt is sweaty just from holding it. |
Although I was disappointed with the last mile of my race, I'm happy to report that I've been slowly losing weight. It will take time but I'm patient, and by losing weight slowly, I expect that I won't lose any muscle. I'm looking forward to what I may accomplish when the weather begins to cool in a couple of months.
This afternoon, I returned to the offending telephone pole with my toolbox. The Tucker High students will return to school in just a few weeks. I imagine that I'm not the first person to have been injured by that nail considering how close it was to the sidewalk, but hopefully I'm the last for awhile. I removed all of the nails that were sticking out of the telephone pole on the street-facing side, from the ground to just above my head. I gave up on the dozens of staples but had been a lot of metal on that pole. I don't know why people use a long nail to hang up a sign for an event or a missing pet!
 |
| After I was done |
 |
| I extracted a lot of metal from the street-facing side of the pole |
 |
| THE RUSTY NAIL |
"Scars are like tattoos, but with better stories."
No comments:
Post a Comment