December 8, 2018: Barb's 5K

Last year, Brian Minor told me that he would register for the "Double G", the Saturday 5K named for Barbara Galloway, and the Sunday half-marathon organized by Jeff Galloway.  As I've always enjoyed the half-marathon - and the registration fee for the next year is half-price in the days following each year's races, I decided to join Brian and registered for both races in the Galloway weekend.  In the past I've resisted, largely because I've believed that running a 5K on Saturday is a good recipe for a bad half-marathon on Sunday.  But I resolved to run the 5K conservatively, simply as a shakeout run. 

Rain began Friday evening and continued throughout the night, and during my drive to Ansley Mall in midtown Atlanta, where we gathered at the Phiddippides store before the race.  But fortunately the rain diminished to a light drizzle as the 8 am starting time for the race approached.  Brian and I made our way to the start, about a half-mile south of the store, which was a perfect warmup jog.  I looked around at the small group gathering for the start, and said to Brian "I might have a chance for an age group award: not too many old guys here today!"

Before the race began, the National Anthem was sung and I dutifully removed my cap.  Until then, my head was dry, but I could feel my hair getting soaked with the drizzle.  The singer delivered the anthem at a patriotic, majestic, slow tempo, holding the high note .....  drawing out the last stanza, not wanting to end the anthem.  Finally I put my cap back on, now that I was evenly wet, in 39 deg F temperatures.   

A line of about a dozen runners gathered at the start line, including Brian.  There was a big gap between them and the second line.  We were waiting for more fast runners to fill the space!  As Barb Galloway counted down to the start, with about 5 seconds to go I began walking toward the start line.  Immediately upon hearing the starting command, I began running, crossing the start line with no more than a second delay.  

And I kept running, fast, fast, fast.  Attaboy Frank, way to throw away the conservative race plan in the first five seconds of the race!  But, I felt really good!  Fast, fast, fast, and then downhill on Winchester Drive, across Piedmont Road and then more steeply downhill, even faster!  The road seemed a little slick with leaves pasted to the asphalt, so I was careful, but kept going fast, fast, fast.  At the bottom of the hill I finally slowed a little, to avoid wiping out on the sharp right turn into Piedmont Park.  

Having safely negotiated the turn, I just kept running.  My Garmin data showed a sub-7 minute pace for much of that initial sprint.  At 3:30, my watch sounded, and so I took the first 30 second walk break.  At least I stuck to that part of the plan.  Normally I would feel silly taking a walk break in a 5K, but in a Galloway race, that was 100% appropriate.  When my watch sounded again, I sprinted ahead of the people that had just passed me.  Then a little boy passed me at incredible speed!  But 100 feet ahead of me, he slowed to a walk, panting heavily, weaving in the walkway.  I passed him on his left, barely staying on the path, but avoiding contact as I passed.  I may have outweighed him by more than 100 pounds: it would have been criminally bad if I had collided with him.   

The second walk break coincided with a water station and the 1 mile marker, so I took a cup of water as the watch recorded 7:46 for mile 1, 67 feet net downhill.  Continuing through the park, we now ran over some gentle rollers.  At the south end of the park, we turned onto the same path that we had taken late in mile 4 of last Saturday's Eastside Beltline 10K.  I expected to see a big puddle at a dip in the path that would force us onto the muddy grass.  Today, the puddle did not extend across the path.  Unfortunately, a maintenance truck was very slowly moving in the opposite direction.  That truck threatened to drive onto the dry half of the path: don't you dare!  I stared down the truck and stood my ground on the dry side of the path.  Potential collision #2 avoided.  

No wonder I ran so fast at the start! 

In mile 2 I had slowed to 8:38, 16:24 elapsed, but I believe that I would have slowed more if I hadn't taken the walk breaks.  I ran a sub-8 minute pace for most of the second half of mile 2, 32 feet net uphill.  Now to the finish!  As one of the few runners using run-walk, I leapfrogged runners with every run interval, then a few people would pass while I walked.  But overall I gained ground on more runners than I lost.  I took a walk break at 19:30, resumed running at 20:00 even, but calculated that I would finish in more than 25 minutes.  Around 23:10 elapsed, I decided to take a short walk break, then when the walk signal sounded at 23:30, I resumed sprinting, for what turned out to be 100 seconds.  My watch recorded 8:11 for mile 3, 24:35 elapsed, 20 feet net downhill.  In the final 0.11 mile, I passed two runners but couldn't catch up with a couple of others who had moved ahead of me earlier in the race.  But I wasn't really racing, right?!  I saw Bonnie just past the finish line as I crossed in 25:12, running a 7:03 pace for the last 0.11 miles, 19 feet net downhill.  Overall the Garmin data recorded that the race route was 75 net downhill!  

I saw the preliminary results on Sunday: Brian finished in 23:49, 8th out of 282 finishers (6th male), and I finished 18th, 16th male.  I was third in my age group, and wasn't surprised as I thought that there were a couple of older guys immediately in front of me.  This was a fun experience, even with the drizzle and cold.  I took care to cool down with an easy jog to the store, and stretched immediately afterwards, and throughout the afternoon and evening.  I didn't feel any ill effects from the race.  Despite a lot of excitement in the evening - Atlanta United won the Major League Soccer Championship Game - I slept really well that night!  

December 1, 2018: The Eastside Beltline 10K

My first 10K race was the Eastside Beltline, in December 2013, and I've run it without fail each year since.  Last year I ran my best time on the course, finishing in 51:09 (although the course was about 0.1 mile short) and notched a few new personal bests in the coming weeks, including a half-marathon PR two weeks later, and a 5K PR on January 1.  And then I injured myself running a 12K in less than 60 minutes on a hilly course in February of this year, and exacerbated the injury by foolishly completing a marathon in March.  

I've spent the last 8 months recovering and gradually regaining endurance to successfully run the New York City Marathon four weeks ago.  Finally I feel mostly recovered in the legs, but I don't really know where I stand with regard to conditioning, since I haven't tried to run at my fastest pace for any distance longer than a mile.  To maintain my streak in the Eastside Beltline race, and to continue supporting the Beltline project, I decided earlier this week to register for this year's race.  But it's not always a straightforward decision: mile 3 of this race is always held on an unimproved section of the Beltline, which under the best of conditions has all of the hazards of trail running, and when wet is a dangerous slough of muddy puddles and slippery gravel.  

After I registered on Monday evening, the weather forecast began to worsen.  By yesterday morning, the chance of rain was predicted at 90% for each hour between 8 am and 12 pm.  And when I awoke this morning, it had rained for most of the night and the prediction was 100% rain with a chance of thundershowers later in the morning.  Originally I had planned to run 12 miles today, parking at Piedmont Park 3 miles away from the start-finish area.  But with torrential rain at the house when I left shortly after 8 am, I knew that I could find street parking near the start-finish area, and other than a little warmup ahead of time, decided not to run much more than the 10K.  I deliberately left my iPhone hidden in the car, as I didn't want to risk damaging the phone, so the few photos in this blog post were available from the race organizers. 

Fortunately the intensity of the rain diminished to a drizzle as I arrived.  I was lucky enough to find a parallel parking spot on Edgewood Road just two blocks from the start-finish area.  I jogged easily to the Stoveworks - Krog Street Market complex, had plenty of time for dynamic stretching, a little pre-race socializing, and a cappuccino bracketed by two porte-potty stops.  Five minutes before the start, the rain began to increase again, but I walked to the starting area per the race organizers instructions, among one of the first few dozen runners to line up.  Only then did I get drenched, but to the larger group of people huddled under the awnings adjacent to the starting area, I figured, what does it matter, when you're all going to get completely soaked within a minute or two. 

A few seconds into the race

We began exactly at 9:30 am, I crossed the starting mat about 20 seconds after the official start, and made my way in a large mass of runners slowly heading north on Krog Street.  Then the people in front of me came to a dead stop: there was a large water puddle at the intersection with Irwin Street.  What the heck, my feet were already wet, and the puddle wasn't all that deep, so I just ran straight through, made two turns, and landed on the Beltline in a decent position with regard to the center of the way and with a group moving at the "right" pace, about a 9 min / mile pace.  To my surprise, there were some big puddles in sections of the Beltline, so anyone who had kept their feet dry in the first few hundred yards was surely running in wet socks by the end of the first mile.   

Given the bad weather, my plan was simply to run easily on the downhill part of the Beltline, settling in just under a 9 min / mile pace for the first 2 miles, just get through the treacherous third mile without injury, and once I had returned to the sidewalk at the north end of Piedmont Park, see what I could manage with a faster pace in the final 5K or so.  I covered mile 1 in 8:35.  Passing under the Highland Avenue bridge, a torrent of water pouring through a hole in the street hit me in the face and head, as I couldn't quite get out of the way due to all of the people around me.  Fortunately I was wearing a cap, which blocked most of the water.  And as we began to spread out along the course, I finished mile 2 in 8:16, seemingly without that much effort.  Now to mile 3, crossing Monroe Avenue and onto the gravel parking lot behind Park Tavern, and then onto the unimproved Beltline trail.  It was much worse than I had remembered.  In several places, deep puddles or long muddy stretches meant that we jogged single file along the grassy edge.  A relatively young and slender-looking man was walking back toward us with a limp: he was facing a long and painful walk back to the start-finish area, presuming that he didn't call a Lyft or ask organizers for assistance.  As we approached the north end of this stretch, I could hear the boiling cascade of water pouring down a spillage stream separating the Beltline from the main section of Piedmont Park.  The memory of Niagara Falls came to mind.  Up and over a wooden bridge and finally on to pavement at Winchester Street, to head into the park proper.  

I had not seen any mile markers along the way, but my watch indicated 9:06 for the third mile and 26 minutes total elapsed, and I estimated that I reached the 5K point at about 27 minutes even.  Now to try to speed up a little.  Mile 4 through Piedmont Park itself was a series of gentle rollers, and near the south end of the park I could see a nice downhill into the meadow.  I thought I could pick up a few seconds on the last downhill section of this race, but I shouldn't have been surprised to see a large puddle at the bottom of the hill.  I followed the path of most of the other runners on the grass parallel to the submerged pathway, which meant that we were churning through mud instead.  I'm glad that I wore my third-newest shoes, which were actually about six months old, in case they ended up ruined by the water and mud.  I finished mile 4 in 8:38, 34:35 elapsed, which I thought was pretty good for the conditions.   

Back onto the Beltline, I aimed to pick up some speed, even though I knew from experience that it would be uphill for the rest of the race.  I had mostly passed people through the park, but began to slow as I grew tired on the Beltline, before I had reached Ponce City Market.  A women wearing a white and grey hoodie passed me at that stage, followed shortly thereafter by a man with a blue-grey hoodie.  Then a woman with a red hoodie started to pass me.  Maybe I should have worn a hoodie myself.  At that moment I found a higher gear and got back in front of her, and proceeded to pass a few more people approaching the North Avenue overpass.  But now I felt a stitch on my lower right side.  Had eaten too much breakfast?  My felt a little queasy.  Don't throw up, I thought to myself, as I visualized leaning over the railing that I would reach at the next overpass at Ralph McGill Avenue.  Instead, I slowed down, hoping that none of the people that I had just passed would overtake me, as my watch signaled that I completed mile 5 in 8:54, 43:30 elapsed.  The woman in the red hoodie did catch up at that point.  

I reached the Ralph McGill overpass, and my stomach felt better.  I felt funny passing the woman in the red hoodie while simultaneously holding and massaging the stitch in my right side.  My legs didn't hurt, especially not the Achilles tendon or the knee that had become sore in the middle of the New York City Marathon, but I struggled with fatigue, as my heart had not been tested at this speed for so long for many months.  C'mon Frank, I said to myself, you just ran the Freaking New York City Marathon, you can do better in this little ol' 10K, especially with less than a mile to go.  And I picked up a little surge at that moment.  

Then I began to hurt again as I crossed under Highland Avenue.  At least I missed getting hit by the stream of water still falling from the underside of the bridge.  The woman with the red hoodie caught up to me again, but I accelerated to keep her from getting ahead of me - until a woman wearing a maroon long-sleeved shirt - not a hoodie - passed me moving quickly.  I tried to speed up, and kept in front of red hoodie, but maroon shirt, and the other two hoodie runners were increasing their gaps in front of me.  Then the intersection with Irwin Street came into view.  I knew that the end was near, especially when red hoodie passed me, this time for good as she accelerated toward the finish line.  

There were some surges in the last few miles,
but I ended running no better than an even-split race.

Mile 6 alert sounded in 8:54, 52:25 elapsed, right before I crossed Irwin Street, with the intersection protected by a single policeman.  As soon as I crossed, I heard the sound of cars passing through the intersection: hmm, there must have been a sizable gap just behind me.  Even though I could see the finish line banner up ahead, I was just about completely out of fuel.  Don't walk, Frank, keep running, you're almost there!  I looked over my shoulder to see if anyone was behind me, and didn't see anyone at all.  A moment later I looked again, the nearest runner was far behind me, maybe a 100 feet or more.  Knowing that I wouldn't get passed by anyone else, and realizing that I probably couldn't catch up to anyone behind me, I started to slow down, then put on one final surge to clear the last 100 feet of the race route.  

Turns out, the top and bottom photos show that
other runners were not that far behind me! 

53:39 on my watch.  To my surprise, not only had I not seen a single mile marker along the route, there was no clock at the finish!  And I had to stop running abruptly upon crossing the finish line, to stand in line to have my bib scanned, and then to tear off a bottom strip from the bib which had been written last night by a volunteer at bib pickup. I congratulated the woman in the red hoodie as we walked up to a table to collect a banana and Powerade.  "I had six miles in me today, but not 6.2," I said.  

(When my official time was originally posted, at 53:59, I wrote to the race organizer to ask them to check the raw data.  Lowell Starr responded within a few days: my chip had not recorded at the start, probably due to the crowd, but he confirmed the start time from their photo.  The finish line did record, and the bib collection process was simply a backup in case the finish line sensors were not working.  Lowell posted my time as 53:37, which matched my watch to the extent that I typically start the watch a second or so before crossing the start line, and likewise I stop the watch a second or so after crossing the finish line.  Thanks to Lowell for taking care of this!)

It's the best 10K race that I've run this year, and the fastest that I've run for a 10K distance since the 12K race in mid-February, 9-1/2 months ago, so I shouldn't be unhappy, even if my watch measured only 6.14 miles for the route. 

November 4, 2018: The TCS New York City Marathon

The New York City Marathon is always held on the first Sunday of November, which coincides with the end of Daylight Savings Time; thus all of the participants get an extra hour of rest!  I had set the alarm for 5 am, but I awoke at 4 am and didn't really get back to sleep.  I dreamt about running too fast because the great New York City band The Ramones were playing along the route: 

             "Rock-Rock-Rockaway Beach, Rock-Rock-Rockaway Beach,
              Rock-Rock-Rockaway Beach, we can hitch a ride to Rockaway Beach."  

Hmmm. 

My name on the wall at the Expo

I got up around 4:50 am and began to get ready.  I enjoyed a cup of hotel room coffee and light breakfast of cereal with almond milk.  We were in the subway station shortly after 6 am, but had to wait awhile for the #1 local, arriving around 6:30 am.  We reached the South Ferry station at 7:00 am, 30 minutes ahead of my official time to board the ferry.  There was a large crowd of excited runners, and Bonnie and I enjoyed soaking in the atmosphere.  We were onto the next ferry by 7:20 am, taking a wonderful 30 minute trip across the harbor.  Despite the thousands of runners on the ferry, it was remarkably quiet.  Many of us took photos of the Statue of Liberty as we sailed past.  We had a NYPD boat escort across the harbor.  It was a beautiful morning, hardly a cloud in the sky, about 50 degrees F, and no wind at all!  As we swarmed into the terminal, I said goodbye to Bonnie, and headed up the steps to the exit.  I found myself following a woman dressed in a tiger outfit, with her tail behind her.  I thought that wasn't such a great idea for a costume, considering that I was trying not to step on her tail as I climbed the steps. 

Waiting for the subway, and then on the #1 line heading south

Statue of Liberty; police escort for the ferry

Waiting 30 minutes or more for the bus

Here was the first surprise of the day: there was a very long line to the busses. Fortunately we must have all listened to the advice to stay calm with regard to the logistics.  There was no complaining to be heard while we inched our way forward.  A few men ran outside of the line, but perhaps they were wave 1 runners.  It must have taken at least 30 minutes before we reached the street where the buses would arrive.  i just remembered the advice from Rogue Running, "Just be patient, if someone pushes ahead of you, let them go ahead, everyone will get there. Races are lost at this stage!"  Finally a long line of buses arrived.  I was the last person onto a bus and was glad not to have to wait, but ended up standing for 30 minutes or more as the bus inched its way through the streets of Staten Island. When we finally reached the starting village, and cleared security, we had a 15 minutes walk to the green start village, 2 full hours from the time that we got onto the ferry in lower Manhattan.  The women's race had already begun, but we heard the cannon shot as the men's race and wave 1 began at 9:52 am.  I tried to check the progress of the women's race, but the local cellphone service was overwhelmed.  In any case I had just enough time to use a port-a-potty, get a free bagel, stretch a little, make sure my shoes were tied just right, then walked to corral A, Green wave 3. 

From the Green Wave starting village

We seemed to wait only a moment, when the gate opened and we surged onto the bridge. Now the energy of the runners was really high! The music was playing 

             "Roadrunner, roadrunner; 

              Fifty thousand watts of power; 

              Going faster miles per hour; 

              With the radio on..."  

The atmosphere was definitely not conducive to getting into a mind-set of starting slowly and conservatively!  I tried not to burn any extra energy waiting for the start, energy that I knew that I would desperately need in 2, 3 or 4 hours.

10 minutes before the start, standing on the approach to the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge

One of the runners in wave 3 sang a beautiful rendition of "America the Beautiful". Then we surged closer to the line, and the announcer gave instructions for starting, "On your mark" and then an enormous cannon boom sounded followed immediately by its reverberation sounded!  Just as I had heard on the televised broadcast, the sounds of Frank Sinatra's "New York, New York" started on cue.  Within a minute I crossed the starting mat!

My goal for the race was to finish in 4:30, running a slight negative split.  I had memorized the following splits: 5K in 33 - 34 minutes, 10K in 66 - 67 min, 13.1 miles in 2:17, and 20 miles in 3:27.  I intended to use intervals of 4:30 running, 30 seconds walking, and/or walking through water stops. 

I was heading up the Verrazano-Narrows bridge, taking care not to run too fast. I had aimed for a 12 minute first mile.  As runner after runner passed me on the bridge, I remembered the Rogue Running advice "If people aren't passing you on the bridge, you're going too fast." I settled in behind a couple at an appropriate pace: the woman was wearing a purple shirt with the slogan "Pancreatic cancer is tough. I'm tougher."

Looking over the harbor toward Manhattan, it was a beautiful day to run!  How fortunate I was to win the NYC marathon AND the weather lottery this year!  Several people jumped onto the raised walkway to take photos, but I just kept slowly running, all business. 

At 4-1/2 minutes, my watch signaled for a walk break. I was on the far left but runners were passing on the side on the raised walkway, so I couldn't find an option to get out of the way.  I just kept running at a very easy pace.  That was going to be a pattern for most of the race.  The 4:20 pacers starting in corral B passed me, followed by the 4:25 pacers.  That's OK, I wasn't planning to keep up with them, aiming for a 4:30 finish.  At 9-1/2 minutes we had spread out a bit.  I looked behind me, and felt I could safely take a 30 second walk break.  Shortly afterwards, we were near the top of the bridge, as my watch sounded 11:30 for mile 1, but the mile 1 sign came up about 30 seconds later, so I was probably right on track.

Now we were heading downhill toward Brooklyn. I could still see the beautiful towers of lower Manhattan to the left, and Brooklyn up ahead seemed forested along the coastline. As we came off the bridge, I was just gliding along very easily, yet my watch was reading sub-10 min / mile.  As we came off the bridge, we saw a large sign "Welcome to Brooklyn!"  Those of us in the green wave took a slightly different route from the other two waves, staying on the highway while we saw the other runners came off the upper level of the bridge to our left.  Then I saw a familiar red jersey: "Thanks Atlanta Track Club @silversue"  And it was Sue Landa!  I called her name and gave her a quick hug as we ran together for most of the next several miles. At that moment I said "This is probably the only time that I'll get to run New York, so I'm looking for a great experience." 

The crowds in Brooklyn were enthusiastic, just as advertised!  What a blast!  The runners were equally enthusiastic, exchanging high-fives with the children lining the route.  Mile 3 came up quickly, followed by the 5K mark, which I crossed exactly at 33 minutes on my watch:  "Nailed it!"

Now I settled in to just run at an easy pace, finding my rhythm. In some places it was convenient to take the walk breaks when the watch sounded, in other places it was a bit narrow and I just kept running. I did slow down or walk through most of the water stops, accepting a cup of Gatorade, even though I was carrying a bottle of Nuun in a 23 oz SmartWater bottle and another 16 oz on my water belt. Sue and I were "leapfrogging" a bit with my walk breaks, but she seemed to be running well. At the 10K mark, I registered 1:05:30, a little fast! (Aiming for 66 - 67 minutes)

Before getting ahead of Sue around mile 8, I had amended my thinking on future New York City marathons, as I said "These crowds are incredible, I can see coming back again, in a few years start entering the lottery again!"

After mile 8, we turned from 4th avenue onto famous Bedford Avenue, with more enthusiastic and cheering crowds. and then at mile 10, it began to get quieter. Ah, this is the famous Hasidic neighborhood of Williamsburg. I saw a few men dressed in black on the sidewalks, some going about their business seemingly oblivious to the runners, but others were watching us. None were cheering, but hopefully they enjoyed seeing the parade of runners. There were a few other people on the streets in western dress who were cheering, and even a group of women who may have been Hasidic by their conservative dress but were also watching us.  On the right side of the street, a side advertised Moishe's Hatters.

We ran a few miles along Bedford Avenue, during which the crowds of spectators gradually increased again.  Around mile 12, we made several turns, and I noticed a sign that seemed specifically for the marathon "Caution sharp left turn slow down. I had never before seen that in a race, but then realized that was for the wheelchair races moving at 20 - 25 miles per hour.  Hay bales provided some padding, probably protecting from some hazardous steel behind the bales, which fortunately all seemed intact.

Then it was time to cross the Pulaski Bridge, as we left Brooklyn to enter Queens. I looked at my watch as I passed the mile 13 marker. 2:17 and change, yet I was aiming to get to 13.1 in 2:17. I had imperceptibly slowed over the last several miles. But I held back from speeding up, as I was determined to maintain pace discipline through the third quarter of the race.

The Pulaski bridge was higher and longer than I had expected, but of course this was just another hill by Atlanta standards. I ran past quite a few people who had slowed to a walk. On the bridge, a young man wearing what appeared to be a Hasidic black hat jumped up on the platform alongside the bridge to take a selfie. Other than the hat, he was wearing the usual running clothes.

We entered Queens, with plenty of enthusiastic crowds, but I mostly remember making several turns in this area. Then suddenly we were running up the approach to the Queensboro Bridge. As warned, everything became very quiet. There were just the sounds of thousands of feet on the bridge, and the occasional bus passing overhead on an upper deck. That was a pretty tough uphill section.

And now, my left knee began to ache.  What?! That wasn't a problem in the months of training! My watch showed that I was running 15 min/mile pace. Surely that wasn't right, it must be the metal of the bridge interfering with the signal. But when we reached the official clock for mile 16 (I started 51 minutes after the wave 1 men) it looked like I had just run a 13 minute mile. After a long mile, we began heading downhill. Quite a few runners were stopped and stretching, a few others took photos. Many others were passing me. Then we headed downhill just a short distance and I started to hear the crowds cheering ahead. 

Making a U-turn off of the bridge, and then a left turn, we were on 1st Avenue. As promised, we enjoyed incredible crowd support in this section, with people several rows deep. I knew that a former graduate student from my lab would be watching but I wasn't sure from which side of the road.  I decided to stay to the left. Unfortunately my knee was hurting pretty badly, but I tried to stick with the plan: only walk every 5 minutes, and through water stops.  At least I kept moving, more or less in the mid 11 min/mile range. I had heard that 1st avenue was downhill as we would run north, but to me it seemed to be rolling hills.

Recent doctoral student Jessica Hurtak,
now a postdoctoral associate at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center,
made this great periodic table-themed sign!
She snapped my photo on First Avenue, below

There were great bands throughout the race, including in this section.  At one point a band was playing: 

                 "Because I'm happy, clap along if you feel like a room without a roof,

                  Because I'm happy, clap along if you feel like happiness is the truth,

                  Because I'm happy, clap along if you know what happiness is to you, 

                  Because I'm happy, clap along if you feel like that's what you want to do!" 

Did everyone start running just a little bit faster?!

As we ran north approaching Harlem, the crowds thinned out a bit, but also encroached into the street. The blue tape was flexible, so naturally as people looked down the street at approaching runners, they would step forward if the person in front of them did so, etc. etc. At one point, a policeman realized that and was trying to get the crowds to move back, but as we ran north the route became fairly narrow. 

Then ahead, I saw the Willis Avenue bridge. And it was another hill! Struggling quite a bit at this stage, I took an extra walk break. Then we were in the Bronx. To our left was a series of tables advertising Biofreeze. I decided to pull over, squeezed a big squirt of green gel into my hand and rubbed it my sore knee, then another squirt onto my calf, and at least one more squirt all over the lower left leg. I muttered "I had hoped that I wouldn't need to stop here." But the volunteer said "that's what we're here for!" and I remembered to smile and thank him.

I could feel the cooling numbness on my skin but I'm not sure that it got down into the muscles. And now I had to be very careful not to rub my eyes or any other sensitive areas! After about 5 minutes, I made another 30 second stop, to do some leg swings, hoping that would ease the soreness. Again I'm not sure if it made a difference, but I resumed running. When I was moving at what I considered was an easy pace, I was passing people, then I would take a walk break, then repeat.  There was a section in the Bronx where we were running northbound and I could see the runners ahead running southbound, separated by just a block.  What a temptation to cut the course at that point!  But I didn't want to become the lead article in the next release of "Marathon Investigation"!  I noticed at mile 20 my elapsed time was 3:37.  Was that what I was trying for?  Was it 3:17, 3:27, 3:37? 

We left the Bronx via the Madison Avenue bridge.  Someone held up a sign reading "Last Damn Bridge!"  Thank goodness that bridge was flat!  As we re-entered Manhattan, I noticed that we were at 138th street, and I knew Bonnie was waiting at Marcus Garvey park at 124th street. 14 blocks to Bonnie! That kept me going, as the blocks quickly ticked down. Around 126th street, I took a walk break, because I was determined to run when I saw Bonnie.  And then I made a right turn.  I stayed to the left side, scanning the crowd ahead for Bonnie in her pink hoodie.  We saw each other at the same time: I heard Bonnie shouting "Frank! Frank!" as I shouted "Bonnie! Bonnie!" waving my hands in the air so that she could see me. I ran past shouting "Oh, the pain!!"

Bonnie caught my photo in the 22nd mile

Turning the corner, there was the mile 22 sign. I was really hurting now. I started thinking about my father, 13 years deceased.  I began saying in my mind "Dad, be proud of me, Dad, be proud of me."  Again and again.  I know my father was always proud of me, I don't know why that thought came.  The mind goes to some strange places after mile 20 in the marathon.  I don't really believe in the afterlife, but I suppose I was channeling my father.  Did someone once say, "There are no atheists after mile 20 in the marathon"? 

Bonnie's family was waiting
for me at mile 26!

A woman held up a sign "Pain is French for bread" and I laughed at that one. I saw the 23 mile sign, around 110th street, had to go all the way to 59th street! But I could see the green expanse of Central Park to my right. I started thinking about my grandparents, everything that they went through during World War II in Europe, at least my pain was nothing compared to that.  The crowds were cheering, but all of the runners were silent, unlike our boisterousness in Brooklyn three hours earlier.  And I started running a little faster. At 90th street, we turned into Central Park. After the mile 24 sign, I started thinking about Han Choi. He ran the 2014 marathon. At the time, he said it was the toughest thing he had ever done, because he didn't train for it. Then Han got pancreatic cancer and 3-1/2 years later he was gone. My pain is nothing compared to that.

At mile 25 sign, I remembered coach Carl's advice to think of laps around the track. 5 laps remaining, I can do this. Fight fight fight! And I suddenly accelerated, passing people left and right in the last part of the park. Was that the woman in the tiger outfit that I was passing?  She was still holding her tail to keep other runners from stepping on it.  Turning onto 59th street (Central Park South), running running running, staying to the left, looking for Bonnie's sister and parents near the intersection with 7th Avenue. I never did see them although they were screaming, but their cheers were drowned out by the pain in my legs. Running running running, trying to beat 4:48, I thought I was going to better that time by a minute or two, until I got into the park again, and there was no mile 26 marker anywhere in sight.

Running running running, finally there was the mile 26 marker, and I was past 4:46 on my watch. Oooh, I'm not going to make it, or maybe? Running running running where is the finish line? Running past the first grandstand, up a hill, and a slight left turn, "Shalane's turn" and there was the finish line, thankfully with the timing mat in front of the finish sign. Over the first mat, then kept pushing over the second mat to make sure I really finished, remembering Meb Keflezighi last year collapsing over the second mat: 4:48:33 on my watch.

Within a minute, I checked my phone to see a flood of messages of best wishes, mid-run photos, and congratulations. Will told me the official time, 4:48:23. I missed a personal best by 11 seconds!  But what I was really looking for was the great experience that I had, absolutely superb! 

There was a long walk ahead, during which we received our medals, a warming sheet, and a food box.  The apple was the most delicious ever!  Downing a bottle of water and then a bottle of Gatorade revived much of my energy, as we continued walking through the park.  Still the parade of walkers was extremely quiet.  I wanted to shout, "We just finished the New York City Marathon!!!!"  but either I didn't have the energy or didn't want to disrupt the decorum.  Finally we made our way around to the exit where they were handing out blue ponchos.  Amazingly my legs weren't too sore.  I was even able to make it down the stairs in the subway, two stops from 72nd to 96th Street, up the stairs in the station, proudly making sure my medal was showing outside of the poncho, to the hotel, up the stairs and to the room!  

Although my time wasn't quite what I had hoped for, this was definitely the first marathon where I didn't feel beaten up afterwards.  In fact I was even able to jog around a little bit on Monday.  Thank goodness for all of the training, to prepare myself for this challenge! 

At the finish line, on the day after 

Checking my watch at the Fred Lebow statue

My name and time in the New York Times, Nov. 5, 2018

Upon returning to Atlanta for my Tuesday morning Chem 522 class, the students gave me a treasured gift!  

October 21, 2018: PNC Atlanta 10-Miler

Goals: 

1) Don't mess up 7 months of recovery and 4 months of training doing anything that's not on the training plan! 

2) 4 miles easy, then practice a slow start for the first 5 miles, followed by race pace in the second half of the race. 

3) Try out cold weather gear for the first time this season.

4) Remember that today's race is just another step to prepare for the New York City Marathon in two weeks from today! 

Saturday night: lay out gear, prepare two bottles of Nuun, try to get to bed by 10 pm, with alarm set for 4:30 am.  

11 pm: actual bed time.

Sunday morning: 

4:27 am: awoke 3 minutes before "ass o'clock", temp 51 deg F, warmer than expected.  Breakfast of cereal, too sleepy to remember to make coffee, but remembered to wear and bring all gear, including application of squirrel nut butter and nipple guards to prevent chafing.

5:15 am: in the car, heading to Atlantic Station, to allow plenty of time for traffic and finding parking.

5:35 am: no traffic, plenty of parking at Atlantic Station!

5:45 am: having stretched, I jogged 2-1/2 easy miles including part of the 5K route, wearing only 1 long sleeve shirt, tights, and a cap.  Getting colder, 46 deg F, and I'm running too fast!  I thought that I wouldn't get back in time for the Tucker Running Club photo, and mistakenly thought it was scheduled for 6:15 am, but instead at 6:30 am.  Ran another 1/2 mile. 

6:30 am: Tucker Running Club photo, then off to the porta-potty for insurance, and one more mile making two loops around Atlantic Station.  Temp 45 deg F, ran to the car to put on a second shirt. 

7:00 am: Gathering for the start in wave D.  Last year I was in wave B.  In a moment of wisdom, when I registered this year, I must have given the track club a slow expected finish time.  No problem, I needed to start with a much slower group to avoid starting too quickly. 

7:15 am: Wave A started, then waves B and C took off with a 2 or 3 minute break between each wave.  I let myself lag back as wave D walked to the starting line.

7:26 am: "Runners set: GO GO GO!!"  And wave D has begun!  Temp 41 deg.  As I turned onto 17th Street, a gust of wind nearly removes my cap, and confirms that I made the right decision to wear a second shirt.  It's often windy during the New York City Marathon, especially the first two miles over the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge.  During the first walk break at 4:30, I see Teresa Ducuara and Heather Garner coming up.  We ran the first four miles together, as they seemed happy to run my pace and my run:walk ratios.  

Mile 1: 11:55, exactly as planned!  Lots of people cheering us on, thanks! 

Mile 2: 11:42, a minute slower than planned, but better to start too slow than too fast.

Mile 3: 10:55, a slow easy run down Cardiac Hill on Peachtree Road.  3053rd out of 3891 runners crossing both timing mats.  My fingers were frozen: it took me a couple of minutes to pry the package of ShotBloks from my running belt.  Maybe I shouldn't have left the gloves and hand warmers in the car. 

Mile 4: 11:01, running through the Peachtree Hills neighborhood.  Lots of campaign signs in the yards, "Brian Kemp for Governor."  Not a good neighborhood: ran a little faster.  The sun has risen as we run to the east, time for the sunglasses.  As we turned onto Piedmont Road, I lost track of Teresa and Heather as we passed through a water station.  45:32 through 4 miles.  Amazingly, that was 1 minute slower than planned.  Oh well, I wasn't racing this part of the route, I call that a win!  I hope I can remain as calm in the first four miles in New York. 

Mile 5: 10:13, Heading downhill into the I-85 underpass, I'm beginning to pass people, even with the walk breaks.  Crossed the 5-mile timing mat at 56:30, 2769th out of 4003 runners, movin' on up!

Mile 6: 10:16, before the race, I had thought that this might be my first sub-10 minute mile, but there was a net elevation gain.  

Mile 7: 9:57, uphill to the entrance to the Botanical Gardens, then a fast downhill into Piedmont Park.  I'm passing quite a few people as I speed up around the Active Oval.  My fingers have thawed, now I'm glad that I'm not carrying gloves. 

Plenty of hills, but no heat or humidity today, thank goodness!

Mile 8: 9:20, running out of Piedmont Park and up the 12th Street hill.  Normally I would take it easy, but I had a walk break right before we left the park, and I ran up the hill non-stop.  Most people were walking, I was sprinting!  Strava confirmed that was my fastest time up the hill in 13 tries, which included four Hotlanta Halfs, two Georgia Marathons, and last year's 10-miler.  Turning south onto Juniper Street, I passed Samantha Andrews, with whom I often run on Thursday evenings at Big Peach Decatur.  She was sporting a BibRave shirt and called out, "Hi Professor!" as she always does when we meet.  She is a professor herself, teaching biology at Georgia Gwinnett College, but I guess it's a matter of respect for our two-decade age difference.  1:25 elapsed.  I was back on pace to finish in 1:45.  I decided to skip every other walk break for the rest of the race. 

I steadily sped up from the start to mile 10:
after walking through the finish area, I ran two easy cool-down miles.

Mile 9: 8:25, I seemed to pass everyone, trying not to run over anyone.  Much of the time, we were restricted to a single lane, so it was a little crowded, even this far into the race.  I passed Becky Caldwell, a fixture with the Tucker Running Club, former swim coach at Tucker High School, and a dedicated triathlete.  At the only water station that I used today, I accepted a cup of Gatorade from Olympian and Atlanta Track Club coach Amy Begley.  

Mile 10: 8:24, as we turned onto 17th Street and cross the overpass, we ascended the last hill of the race.  The watch signaled a walk break approaching 1:35 overall.  I took my last ShotBlok and a swig of Nuun, then returned to a run.  I hadn't been passed by anyone for miles, then a young woman with a blonde ponytail passed far to the right.  She looked much younger than me, no problem.  Then either she slowed down or I sped up and I passed her.  Into Atlantic Station, less than half a mile to go.  I was driving myself pretty hard, pumping my arms strongly, passing everyone in sight.  Turning onto State Street for the last two blocks of the race, the Atlanta Roller Girls had the best cheer team of all, encouraging us into the finish, with their leader's chant amplified by a megaphone.  Passing, passing, passing, and then downhill to the finish line.  I saw two young women ahead of me, did I have enough room to catch up to them?  Not quite, but I crossed the finish line at 1:43:05 chip time, 1:54:26 gun time, 2001th out of 4004 finishers, just ahead of the 50th percentile.  I saw Bonnie to the right as I cleared the timing mat and raised both arms into the air in celebration!

The number 10 on the medal spins!
It seems to be a new gimmick in medals over the past couple of years. 

9:10 am: After accepting the medal and a bottle of water, I cleared the finish area and turned back to run 2 easy miles to cool down along the last mile of the race route, cheering on a few people that I knew.  On my way back on 17th Street, a woman had fallen near the corner with State Street.  I don't know what happened but from her cries it sounded like she had a severe cramp.  Two Atlanta police were standing around her and with another person was kneeling holding her down on the hard cold street pavement - I'm concerned that might have made things worse for her - but then Rich Kenah, director of the track club, arrived to see what had happened.  I hope that she will be OK.  

The watch measured 10.14 miles for the race route.

16 miles for the day, and I had plenty of energy left, despite running the last 2 miles of the race considerably faster than marathon race pace.  After a few minutes of leg swings, I was ready for a celebratory brunch with Bonnie at Murphy's in Virginia-Highlands. 

Calorie replacement programme