August 17, 2019: The Atlanta's Finest 5K

The Atlanta Track Club hosts the Atlanta's Finest 5K in mid-August each year.  I've only "raced" this course twice, in 2014 and in 2017, finishing in 26:14 and 25:04 respectively.  In 2018 I was training for the New York City Marathon, and ran the race at a slower pace as part of a 10-mile medium-long run.  Although the Track Club advertises the race as one of Atlanta's flattest courses, the summer heat and some hills in the second half of the course have always slowed me down in past years.       

"Ass O'Clock" on the way to the race

In the run-up to today's 5K race, I resolved to try for a sub-25 minute finish.  Everything went well in the week prior to the race, including carefully hydrating.  Then last night, we celebrated my mother-in-law's birthday with a grand family dinner at the Royal China restaurant.  We enjoyed a delicious meal of Peking duck, spicy chicken, salt-and-pepper squid, sizzling tofu with shrimp, seafood chow fun, eggplant fries, snow pea leaves with garlic, red bean dessert, and then a slice of birthday cake from Sweet Hut.  Although I had resolved beforehand to eat selectively, filling up on greens with snow pea leaves and just enjoying small tastes of the other dishes, I ended up eating my full share.  Walking out some pounds heavier, I jokingly dialed back by goal by a minute.  

On race day, we left the house at 6 am sharp, for a 25 minute drive to Pemberton Park near the start of the race.  We had allowed plenty of time before a 7:30 am race, right?  But there was a massive traffic jam downtown, and the parking garage for the World of Coca-Cola was already full.  We needed another 10 minutes to crawl the additional block to more expensive parking at the Georgia Aquarium.  Then the first decision: bib pickup or toilet?  Since the Atlanta Track Club always has efficient bib pickup, I decided to jump into the line for the toilet, which took about 15 minutes, but the line grew steadily longer as I waited, so that was the right decision.  I successfully dropped a pound or so before the race. But I unexpectedly found the longest line for bib pickup.  By then it was 7:15 am, far too late for the planned 2-mile warmup jog (at my pace, anyway).  The announcer was already asking all runners to move to the starting area a few blocks away.  That was my only warmup: an easy jog, a few short strides and skips, on my way to wave B.  

I missed the big Atlanta Track Club group photo,
 but my priority was to wait in the toilet line. 

Fortunately I felt ready enough to run.  The 73 degree F temperature was comfortable compared to recent evening runs, at 20 degrees warmer.  After saying hello to volunteer Lindy Liu - single-handedly holding back a horde of wave B runners - and waving to Kristi Swartz 20 feet away, I just kept jogging in place and staying loose with butt kicks.  As we moved up to the starting line, I reviewed my plan once more: aim to run each mile at a consistent 8 min / mile pace, then make a strong kick to the finish line in the last two blocks.  

Scenes from Pemberton Park:
current exhibits at the Center for Civil and Human Rights (above)
World of Coke (below, left) and the Georgia Aquarium (below, right)

The airhorn sounded!  We ran north on Marietta Street, one of the main roads into the Five Points center of downtown Atlanta.  Marietta Street typically has many potholes, but to spruce up downtown for the Super Bowl earlier this year, the City of Atlanta repaved the street, so we ran on a very nice and smooth asphalt surface this year.  I tried to maintain a very easy pace, and avoided looking at my watch for the first few minutes.  When I finally checked, I was moving at a 7:45 min / mile pace, which was pretty good for a conservative start.  I had let a considerable number of faster runners pass me in the first few minutes.  Kristi Swartz, who typically runs close to my speed, was far ahead, but I decided to stay with my race plan and resisted exerting myself.  The first mile was gently, subtly downhill, and I passed the mile 1 sign at 7:50.  My legs felt good, and my heartrate wasn't too high, in the mid-150 beats per minute, so I kept running at the same pace.  

For the second consecutive year, this race was also the USATF Master's 5K Championship race.  Those competitors, about 160 in total, had a five-minute headstart on wave A, and began seven-minutes ahead of my wave.  I'm sure that there were plenty of speedsters in the 40s, 50s, and 60s age groups far ahead of me, but near the end of mile 1, we began to pass a few of the older runners in the competition, who wore a second bib on the back marking their age group and gender, i.e. M 80, W 90, etc.  One of the regular runners would say "Good job" everytime she passed one of the senior runners.  I wasn't sure if that was patronizing or encouraging, although I'm certain that her intention was positive.  I mainly tried to steer clear and avoid running into any of the slower competitors.   

At Delia's Chicken and Sausage, we made a gentle turn onto Northside Drive, followed within a block or two by a much more acute right turn onto Tech Parkway.  Temilola "Tes" Sobomehin Marshall was course monitor at the corner, cheering us on, giving high-fives to the runners on the inside track.  I had taken an outside track to make the turn without slowing down, and ended up going quite wide, adding several extra steps - like a big truck making the turn.  Something that I need to work on ... 

The route continued downhill past the Georgia Tech campus.  Stealing another glance at my watch, I was still running just under an 8 minute / mile pace.  As we approached a water station, I decided to take a cup, although I didn't feel particularly thirsty.  I was determined to maintain pace, but had trouble finding an open spot with a volunteer.  A woman just ahead had taken a cup, and I tried to guess whether I should dash past her on the left or on the right.  I guessed wrong and bumped into her - fortunately I didn't knock her over, but many apologies - running isn't supposed to be a contact sport.  Something else to work on ... 

The big divot in my pace running uphill in the last few minutes
was the only real glitch in today's race.  

I managed to grab a cup of water from a volunteer, promptly spilled half of its contents onto my right shoulder, which cooled me off a bit, gulped down the rest, which slaked any incipient thirst.   Reaching the mile 2 marker in 7:49 elapsed, I realized that I was likely to break 25 minutes today after all.  We were in a section with gentle rolling hills, which I managed going uphill fairly well without maximizing my heart rate.  By maintaining the same pace going downhill, while exhaling heavily trying to blow out as much carbon dioxide as possible, my heartrate would recover downwards a few points.  Then uphill again, repeat on the downhill.  I saw Kristi Swartz up ahead, and wondered if I could catch up to her.  

With Bonnie and Tes after the race

At 19 minutes, midway through the third mile, we crossed North Avenue, past the Coca-Cola Headquarters Building, onto the long steady uphill section named Luckie Street.  At first I ran well, maintaining the pace.  I had followed Kristi for much of the way, but couldn't close the lead - she wasn't slowing down.  Further ahead, I looked for the Georgia Aquarium Garage, the landmark the top of this final hill at Ivan Allen Boulevard.  But the only building that I could make out was a Hyatt Hotel, and I didn't recall its location.  I asked myself, do we have to pass the Hyatt before we cross Ivan Allen?  20:30 elapsed, it seems much farther than 4 minutes from the finish line.  Afterwards I checked my Garmin stats, which showed an abrupt drop in my pace around that time, slower than 9 minute / mile.  I wonder if my mental strength failed in that moment - something else to work on ...

Bonnie's finish, with commentary

On Luckie Street, we passed a wheelchair racer that had stopped on the side of the road.  A man tried to encourage her, but she seemed OK.  Hopefully it was a mechanical breakdown rather than a physiological problem, perhaps a flat tire.  As we drew nearer to Ivan Allen, I finally realized that the Hyatt Hotel was beyond the Aquarium, in fact at the corner for the last turn to the finish line.  The combination of knowing that I was close to finishing and cresting the hill gave me the strength to return to a faster pace.  Time to put on the final kick, I thought, especially as we began running downhill past the Aquarium.  I was shocked to see a younger runner just ahead of me slow to a walk.  As I flew past, I wanted to shout "Why are you walking?  We're running downhill and near the finish!"  Good thing that remained an invisible thought bubble, because a moment later he passed me, and I couldn't match his kick.  

Passing the mile 3 marker (8:13, 23:52 elapsed, although I didn't notice at the time) I saw David Bloomquist, who cheered me forward with "Just 50 yards to go!"  I thought, 50 steps to the finish, is that all?  I kicked hard through the left turn onto Baker Street, kept running as fast as possible toward the finish line.  Afterwards, I wish that I had thought of the technique of strides, speeding up a bit in consecutive 5 second increments.  In the heat of the moment, the only thoughts in my brain were "run run run" and "I hope that no one is about to pass me at the very end!"  I was relieved to clear the first and then the second timing mat without hearing footsteps immediately behind or next to me.  I stopped my watch, to see: 24:48 elapsed!  Mission Accomplished!!

My official time: 24:44, 20 seconds faster than my previous best on this course.  Although I was briefly winded, I quickly recovered, and set out for an easy 2+ mile cool down, during which my legs and everything else proved intact.  

Celebratory brunch at West Egg: chicken chilaquiles

August 3, 2019: The Decatur-DeKalb 4-Miler

Since my last race in early July, my heat acclimatization has improved, and my training has gone well.  I've finished week 7 of a 38-week build, guided by Coach Carl Leivers.  This long training cycle will culminate in the Publix Atlanta Marathon on March 1, 2020.  The workouts have mostly focused on very gradually increasing the distances of my long runs, and working in some light speed work elements, including strides on Monday runs.  Most of my recent runs have been progression runs, following the mantra "First mile slowest, last mile fastest".  The great thing about deliberately starting very slowly is that the majority of the run is a warm-up, culminating either in a fast (and fun) final mile, or in four quality fast (and fun) strides. This has also greatly improved my pace discipline.  While I haven't run fast for any significant distance, my physical strength has improved, and the easy runs are building my capacity for oxygen utilization. 

The Decatur-DeKalb 4-Miler is a good checkpoint for my fitness to this stage.  It's a tough course due to some significant hills, but it's also a very familiar course.  Not only have I run the race for the past five years, I've run the route dozens of times on mid-week workouts beginning on the Emory campus.  In the past month I've run the route twice, refreshing my memory of every hill and dale.  

In the weeks before the race, Brian Minor and I discussed racing each other.  In the past, he has outrun me on the course, but recently he hasn't trained as rigorously.  Nontheless he holds a course personal record of 32:00 flat, whereas my best time on the course is 33:38, in summer 2019.  On that day, I started too quickly, and then needed several walk breaks to climb the long hill from miles 2.5 to 3.5.  I was determined not to go out too fast this year.  In short, my goal was to get to the bottom of the hill at mile 2.5 in good enough shape to run strongly uphill, and upon reaching the crest at mile 3.5, push myself the last 800 meters to the finish, equal to two laps on the track.  And with that strategy, I felt that a sub-33 minute finish was realistic.  This was my pace plan:

mile 1:   8:20 - 8:30

mile 2:   8:10 - 8:20

mile 3:     8:00 even

   mile 4: sub 8:00 finish

Arriving more than an hour before the race, I had plenty of time to warm up, running close to 2 miles, including three quality strides.  I lined up in the middle of wave B, and then Brian walked up, shook my hand and said "Mano a mano."  "We're on!" I replied.  Waiting to begin, Brian and I both discussed not starting too quickly.  Personally I was hoping to use him as a pacer; likewise he was planning to follow me.  The problem with that strategy, from my standpoint, is that Brian has a finishing kick that I just cannot beat.  If he isn't too far behind me with the finish line in sight, I ezpect that his younger legs will likely propel him past me.  So I hoped that he would run fast enough to stay with me, or perhaps just in front of me for much of the race. 

After wave A began, wave B moved up.  The airhorn sounded, and Brian and I slowly jogged up to the line.  And as soon as we crossed the starting mat, Brian took off!  Well, if he could run the entire race at that pace, I would never catch him, so I just stuck with my conservative strategy for mile 1.  

Beginning the race in the middle of the wave was a good move for me.  It was a little crowded, so I just settled in with the group to run their pace, which was just under a 9 minute mile for the first few blocks.  As the route on Scott Boulevard began to descend, and the runners spread out a bit, I sped up just a tad, but I refrained from passing anyone just for the sake of passing them.  I could see Brian's yellow Tucker Running Club singlet and yellow visor up ahead.  While I kept an eye on him, I didn't try to close the gap, committed to staying on plan.  At the end of mile 1, I checked my watch, very satisfied to see 8:27 elapsed, just as I had intended.  

Completing mile 1, with less than a 5K to go to the finish, I felt powerful confidence that I would have a great race today.  Crossing under the railroad bridge, the road began to go uphill.  I saw Brian turn onto Artwood Road - and then he began walking!  I counted the seconds: about 30 seconds later I was in the same spot on Artwood Road, heading uphill but on familiar territory.  And within another 30 seconds, there was Brian, still walking.  "Hey bro, how are you doing?" I asked.  Brian started running again, but said "I started too quickly."  After running together for a minute, he began to open up some distance on me again, but I just stayed with my pace, sticking with the plan.  And making the turn onto Heaton Park Drive, I caught up with Brian again at the top of the hill in front of Fernbank Elementary, which marked the highest point of the race route.  

Now we began running downhill.  I just relaxed and let gravity carry me along.  I was watching both my pace and my heart rate, around 160 beats per minute, which was sustainable.  Left onto Coventry Road, more downhill running, but I fought off the temptation to press.  Another left turn onto East Clifton Road, I passed the mile 2 marker registering 8:17.  This race was proceeding perfectly for me.  I even caught up to Brian again, and passed him, trying to sneak by.  However he picked up his pace and caught up with me.  I joked "We're in a no-trash-talking zone - actually I was hoping to sneak past you!"  He didn't say much, it was clear that he was struggling a little, but he didn't want to fall behind.  As East Clifton joined the main route of Clifton Road, I shouted out "Brian, they changed the route this year - it's all down hill the rest of the way!  Don't save anything for the end!"  Hopefully the other runners around me knew that I was joking.  I myself was amazed that I had enough lung capacity to talk at this stage of the race. 

At the water station, Brian and I nearly collided - he took a cup of water from one of the first volunteers.  I slipped by and accepted a cup of water from the next volunteer, and kept running.  Brian accelerated to catch up and pass me as I tossed the empty cup toward the last garbage box.  And now we reached the lowest point of the course, near the intersection with Oxford Road.  As the route began to go uphill, I caught up to Brian.  My legs felt good, my endurance was strong, and I began pushing up the hill.  Time to drop Brian, I thought, and I put on another burst of speed.  But I wasn't reckless - the hill training and endurance workouts gave me strength.  I passed quite a few people in this section, all the way up to the intersection at North Decatur Road.  Making the right turn, the road leveled out a moment, just long enough for me to catch my breath without significantly altering my speed.  Mile 3 covered in 7:57!  Wow, this race was going really well, having run easily downhill for the first half of mile 3, and strongly uphill for the second half of mile 3. 

Now for the toughest part of the race: the road began going uphill again.  I was determined not to walk this year, and in fact I didn't feel an urgent need to walk.  I felt a little pain in my upper chest, but recognized it as pectoral muscle pain from pumping my arms, nothing that would cause danger or harm.  Most of the runners around me were running just as strongly.  A young woman with a blond ponytail passed me: I sped up to keep up with her, and she didn't open much of a gap.  This part of the race route did seem to take longer than I expected.  I didn't check my watch at all, just running with determination.  Every once in a while, I quickly glanced behind me, looking for Brian's yellow singlet and yellow visor, but didn't see him.  

Elevation vs. pace.

Finally we crested the top of the hill, past Princeton Way, approaching the bridge crossing the railroad.  I passed the water station, not wanting to slow down, not needing water.  I took a look at my watch for the first time since the mile 3 marker: 29:30.  Hmm, at the time I thought that I had 1/2 mile to the finish line - I definitely wouldn't finish in 32 minutes, and wondered if 33 minutes was actually possible.  We turned through the McDonald's parking lot, I passed someone as we came around the corner. of the drive-through lane.  Emerging onto Clairmont Road, speedster Jordan Eison called out "Just 400 meters to go!"  I glanced at my watch: 31:30.  I can run a 400 meter race on the track in 1:30, but not after running 3-3/4 miles.  If Jordan's distance estimate was accurate, a sub-33 minute finish was now unlikely, but I definitely felt that I could finish in less than 2 minutes.  I was tired, but deployed the mantra "Mind over matter"  and kept up my speed.  

I had followed the woman with the blond ponytail after she passed me around
 the mile 3 marker, but I surged past her in the final block of the race.
Thanks to Kalpana Patel for the photo! 

My watch signaled 4 miles done as we approached the turn to the finish line: a sharp right turn, over the timing mat, and done!  33:09 official time, 8:29 for the final 1.05 mile (as measured on my watch).  By any measure, I didn't cover the last mile in less than 8 minutes, but that was probably from the first half-mile being uphill - so I had a strong enough finish to be satisfied for today.  

Brian finished a moment later.  (Credit: Kalpana Patel)

I waited in the finish area for a moment, and then saw Brian approaching the turn, and greeted him after he crossed the timing mat.  I tried not to gloat.  While I was happy to outrun him on this rare occasion, I was even happier with how well I had managed the race!  Not only did I set a course personal record, but I had saved enough energy in the first part of the race and didn't suffer too badly going up the long hill in the final stage.  

Maybe I was gloating a little, holding up a finger for #1.
Brian was a great sport for second place! 

Moreover, I can see some room for improvement - but that's not a self-critical statement. I'm actually very optimistic that I'm on track for additional improvement in the coming weeks and months.  And Brian and I will have our rematch on Labor Day, in the Big Peach Sizzler 10K! 

July 4, 2019: The Peachtree Road Race 10K

In the weeks ahead of this year's Peachtree Road Race, I was aware of my course record of 54:38 from 2015.  That's five minutes slower than my 10K personal record from September 2017, but in the heat of July, this is always a tough race to run.  As the days approached for the race, the forecast temperature in the mid-70s called for caution.  I decided that I would try for a 54 minute finish, but knew that might not be realistic.  The one thing going for me was that I recently ran the Monday Nighter 10K in 59:33 on an evening that was 15 degrees warmer, so I knew that I was in shape to finish at least within that time, which would be my "C" goal. 

5 minutes before wave B start

Indeed the temperature at the start was 75 deg F, with 85% humidity.  As wave B filled with runners in the minutes before the start, I deliberately kept moving back in the wave, doing easy warmups running away from the front of the wave to avoid getting hemmed in by the crowd.  Only after the lead group had officially started, and wave C began walking forward, did I settle into my starting position.  Once our wave officially started at 7:05 am, I continued to walk until right before I crossed the starting mat.  

Mile 1 went close to plan, finishing in 8:30.  Along the way, I met up with Tucker Running Club friends Curt Walker and Liz Mann.  I had hoped to find them for a pre-race selfie but somehow we missed each other among the other 3000 runners in our wave.  David Bloomquist slowed up for me, saying "I want to make sure that I'm in your blog!"  David was running with his daughter, and she wasn't waiting for him, so after a moment he dashed on ahead.  There were many more bands along the route than I remembered from recent years, perhaps having to do with this being the 50th running of the Peachtree Road Race. 

Mile 2 was mostly downhill.  Curt had pulled ahead and I just tried to keep him in sight as a pacer.  He was running the tangents, whereas I mostly stayed with the second lane, moving over to the left at water stations.  I had intended to stay with a 8:30 pace, but found myself running easily at 8:15.  

Mile 3 also went by quickly, in 8:15 according to my watch.  This part of the course has the steepest drop in the first half of the mile, but then we crossed the Peachtree Creek bridge and headed up Cardiac Hill before crossing the mile 3 marker.  I noted that I was just past 26 minutes elapsed when I crossed the 5K timing mat (officially 26:14).  

To this point, I was on track for a 54-minute finish, but I didn't do as well on the uphill sections, needing 9:30 to get through mile 4.  Beyond that mark, I needed to take a few walk breaks at the water stations.  The heat was taking its toll.  I lost sight of Curt Walker before the end of mile 4.  I wasn't getting enough recovery at each level section before heading to the second big hill.  In fact I needed 10:15 for mile 5, crossing I-85 into Midtown Atlanta.  And there was still one more big hill ahead! 

The one disappointment in today's race is when I reached the top of the third hill, the highest point of the 2nd half of the race, at 12th Street, I couldn't speed up very much.  When I made the turn onto 10th Street with exactly one kilometer to go, my watch read 51:30.  With a personal course record out of reach, I dialed back my effort, looking around at the crowds lining the street, raising my hands for the cameras on the crane just before crossing Piedmont Road, just enjoying the last minutes of the race.  Most other runners passed me in this final kilometer.  When the finish line first came into sight, I saw 56:00 on my watch, and started counting down, certain that I would finish in less than 57 minutes.  Then shortly before reaching the finish line, we all had to slow down, as the police steered us around an injured runner - fortunateiy she was still upright, leaning on another runner as they crossed the line together - and as I crossed the line myself, saw 57:00 exactly on my watch.  My "A" goal for the race was definitely too ambitious for the conditions, with nearly a 5 minute positive split for the race, but at least I finished without mishap, and comfortably beat my "C" goal by more than 2 minutes.  

The Atlanta Track Club races are always well-organized, but I think this one was really the best-organized of them all.  There was plenty of water to drink and cool down with all along the route.  When we turned into Piedmont Park, there was a wooden walkway protecting the grass from tens of thousands of feet - and protecting our shoes from mud.   Dozens of volunteers passed out water bottles before we received our commemorative race shirts at the end of the queue.  At the back of the meadow, there were ice-cold cooling towels, plenty to go around, even a couple of hours after my finish.  There was large barrels of cold clean water spigots throughout the meadow.  At the Atlanta Track Club members party, there were still bagels, bananas, cold water and Powerade to spare.

  

Many of the 60,660 finishers in today's race,
relaxing on the meadow at Piedmont Park

Despite the temperatures and humidity, all four major course records were broken this morning.  This year the Atlanta Track Club offered the additional motivation of $50,000 bonuses if new course records were set.  The first record fell in the men's wheelchair race, followed a few minutes later by the women's wheelchair racers.  In fact the first three women to finish today outran the old course record.  In the women's elite footrace, there was an exciting competition into the finish line, and again three women outran the old record.  And finally in the men's elite footrace, the winner, running by himself for the last couple of miles, also set a new record by a few seconds.  

Daniel Romanchuk repeated his win from last year, but 28 seconds faster.  Marcel Hug won in 2009, and Josh Cassidy in 2010 and 2013. 

Manuela Schar's name was misspelled!  She also won in 2013.  Tatyana McFadden won seven times, 2010-2012 and 2014-2017.  Susannah Scaroni won in 2018. 

Brigid Kosgei has won every race that she has entered this year! 

Rhonex Kipruto missed a 10K world record by 2 seconds last fall.
Today's result is the fastest 10K time ever run in the United States. 

June 17, 2019: The Monday Nighter 10K

Last year I ran the Monday Nighter 10K on the Westside Beltline, on a 90 degree mid-June evening.  I suffered mightily in the second half of that race, needing more than 65 minutes to limp across the finish line, completely baked by the heat and some ill-advised over-exertion in the middle of mile 4.  When registration opened for this year's race, I quickly signed up, resolving to run a much smarter race.  

In addition to pacing more wisely, I also carried a second bottle of ice water in an insulated bottle for this year's race, in addition to a bottle of Nuun on my water belt.  Although I was carrying more water than anyone else that I saw, the hydration strategy worked well in last month's Memorial Day 10K, minimizing the pain and suffering of running on a hot evening.  

The 5K runners, more than 600 strong, began at 6:30 pm, 20 minutes before the 10K race.  I warmed up a bit during the wait, then noted the 87 deg F temperature.  What a contrast from the Jackson Hole half-marathon 9 days earlier in Wyoming, at 37 deg F at the start!  As the time for our 6:50 pm start approached, I walked to the starting area, but deliberately hung back.  I wanted to choose my own pace from the beginning, and if all went well, have some fun passing a few people later in the race.  

One of the runners noted that the 10K runners were a much smaller group, although when I checked the results we had over 250 finishers in the 10K, and as we started, it felt like a substantial group.  The first mile wound through the West End neighborhood streets, at what felt like an incredibly slow pace - but my watch consistently showed a sub-10 minute / mile pace, so I very carefully avoided passing anyone that wasn't walking.  Near the end of our first mile, our route momentarily joined that of the 5K runners in their last half-mile, although we were separated by a row of cones.  I thought I recognized a couple of 5K runners up ahead, and thought about accelerating to catch up to them - and then thought better of that idea.  There would be plenty of time to socialize after we had all finished our respective races.  

Crossing the starting line.  That's a red arrow pointing at my head,
not a lightning bolt.  That came later.  

We turned off to the left as the 5K runners continued straight ahead, and then made a hairpin turn onto the Westside Beltline, on a sidewalk paralleling White Street.  Passing the mile 1 marker, I congratulated myself on running a conservative 9:49 - yet knowing I would need to speed up at some point if I was to finish in less than 60 minutes.  I picked up the pace ever so slightly, starting to pass a few people.  While I was aiming to speed up by about 15 seconds with every mile, I only managed half of that in mile 2, in 9:42.  By this point I had taken a couple of sips from the Nuun bottle, and had squirted some ice water on my neck and back as well, even though I wasn't suffering from the heat, at least not yet.  

On the out-and-back course, the lead 10K runner passed me about 25 minutes into my race.  I recognized several of the faster runners returning, acknowledging each other and passing congratulations and/or encouragement.  The elevation was definitely net downhill in the third mile, yet I sped up to only 9:32.  Not to worry, my heart rate was still reasonable, and I felt fine, continuing to squirt cool water on my head, neck, and back on occasion.  I noticed that the ice had completely melted in my insulated bottle.  

I took a walk break and accepted a cup of Gatorade at the water station just past the mile 3 marker.  We made a short loop through a park, then encountered the water station again less than half-a-mile later, where I accepted a second cup of Gatorade and took another walk break.  This undoubtably slowed me down a bit, but I was determined not to over-exert myself on the return trip this year.  And as we headed uphill to an overpass, I reminded myself to take it easy, shorten my steps, as it definitely was far too early to begin pushing.  Nonetheless I was occasionally passing other runners taking walk breaks.  That was me last year.  I was quite pleased to finish mile 4 in 9:48.  Although my heart rate was in the high 160's, I felt that this level of effort was sustainable for a couple more miles.  

Elevation map (above);
 my pace vs. elevation (below). 

In contrast to last year, mile 5 went fairly smoothly.  I was beginning to tire, but wasn't exhausted.  I kept squirting water on my head - it was no longer that cool, but at least it was wet, and occasionally I drank a sip or two as well.  I channelled the recent memory of snowflakes at the start of the Jackson Hole Half, and that mental trick seemed to help.  I took another walk break at the last water station, right before my watch signaled the completion of mile 5, and passed several people at this stage, including a couple of people that are typically a little faster than me.  9:57 for mile 5, 48:50 elapsed. 

Now it was time to begin pushing.  A sub-60-minute finish was within reach if I could speed up a bit, but to cover 1.2 miles in 11 minutes, I clearly needed to run closer to a 9 minute / mile pace.  The heat was beginning to bother me, but I continued to cool myself down and hydrate with the last of my Nuun as needed.  The volunteers were great in this final stage, not only protecting street crossings from traffic but also encouraging us at a time when it was most needed.  There was one last uphill section, which was a bit of a struggle, but after reaching the crest, I felt better and started to accelerate a bit, knowing that I had only about 1/2 mile to go, 55 minutes elapsed.  

I passed a few more runners as we headed onto the flat section of the Beltline, wedged behind several industrial buildings facing White Street.  Ooooh, this was beginning to hurt, everything was burning, yet the finish line had to be up ahead, even though I couldn't see the banner.  I caught up to a young woman who had run just ahead of me for most of the race, managed to pass on her left, then she found a higher gear and pulled ahead.  Mile 6 alert sounded, 9:39 and 58:28 elapsed, although I didn't check my watch at that moment.  I'm sure that my heart rate was maxxed out by that stage.  I thought about letting her go, then bore down and found a higher gear of my own, drawing even.  Now a man caught up to me on my left.  I thought he would accelerate away after he passed me, but I sped up a little more and seemed to keep up with him.  As the finish line drew near, both runners put on a little kick.  I didn't quite match their finishing speed, but I was satisfied that I really made them work for it at the end.  I was delighted to cross the finish line just a few seconds before the race clock ticked over to 1 hour flat - and noted on my watch that I had finished in 59:35!  Official chip time, 59:33.  

Note the gun times for places 105 - 108:
we finished within one second of each other - very exciting!  

A few seconds after crossing the finish line, the first drops of rain hit my head.  I was surprised - rain wasn't forecast until much later in the evening.  But the rain started coming down harder, as I tried to jog a slow, short cooldown.  I think I would have liked it more if the rain had started in the final mile or two of my race!  I was already soaked with sweat so the rain didn't really matter, and may have cooled me off a bit.  As I walked into the Monday Night brewery, a loud clap of thunder sounded nearby, just 10 minutes after I had finished the race.  I was concerned for the dozens of runners still out on the course, although apparently everyone eventually made it to the finish line without incident.  

I had tickets for a couple of free beers, but I wasn't up to drinking anything other than pure water at that moment, of which there was plenty at the finish line.  That run took a lot out of me, yet it went so much better than last year''s race.  I was very proud to find a good pace at the beginning of the race, and maintained that pace quite consistently over the first six miles, with a variance of only 25 seconds between mile 3 at the fastest and mile 5 at the slowest.  And I still had enough energy and spirit to run the final stage at a faster pace, about 8 minute / mile.  In short, I achieved nearly every one of my goals for this race, except for the stretch goal of a progression run, but wasn't disappointed given the conditions.   

I didn't stay for the awards ceremony, opting instead to change into dry clothes in the car, and joined Bonnie for dinner at Atlantic Station.  Later in the evening, I checked the results, and was pleasantly shocked to discover that I had placed second place in my age group!  I was momentarily disappointed that I had not stayed for the award announcements!  But with a 59-minute finish, I didn't think that there was a chance for an award.  It turns out that the warm temperatures slowed almost everyone else as well!  

I passed Josue after the mile 5 water stop, although didn't realize it until he said "hi" as I passed -
and was pleasantly shocked, as he is generally considerably faster than me. 

June 8, 2019: The Jackson Hole Half Marathon

As I was reviewing our plans for our vacation to Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks, I idly looked up races in Wyoming.  To my surprise, I found a half-marathon in Jackson Hole on Saturday June 8, remarkably coinciding with our plans to spend June 7 - 10 in the Grand Tetons.  A week earlier, I jokingly mentioned this to Tucker Running Club member Katie Vernon, and learned that the Jackson Hole Half Marathon was on her "bucket list" of future races.  She said "you have to do this race!"

"Because if the elevation doesn't take your breath away,
the incredible scenery will!"

Nonetheless, I resisted advance registration for two reasons: 1) I didn't want to tie up our vacation around a half-marathon if it might knock something more unique from our agenda, 2) I was nervous about running at over 6000 feet altitude, and 3) I wasn't properly trained for a half-marathon, not having run more than 10 miles at a time since completing the Publix Atlanta Half Marathon in mid-March.  But after spending a few days at altitude, I felt fine, without difficulty running a couple of short runs earlier in the week.  On the Friday afternoon before the race, we had enough time to drive to Jackson to intercept the 4 - 7 pm window for packet pickup, so I registered on-site.  

The temperature prediction for the race start at 8 am was near the freezing point, with overnight snow flurries ending by daybreak.  Fortunately I had packed my cold-weather running gear, minus a pair of gloves, which we purchased at a local market, in front of the fruit and vegetable section, next to the rack for bear spray, and one row from the semi-automatic pistol.  When we awoke on Saturday morning, light flurries filled the air, and continued to fall throughout our hour-long drive to the start of the race.

  

The race course was a bicycle pathway connecting the Jackson Hole Ski Resort at Teton Village (the newer, high-end resort) to the Snow King Ski Center within the city of Jackson (the historic resort).  We actually started a few hundred yards south of the entrance to Teton Village, which seemed strange at the time, but after the race I realized that was needed to make the distance work out.  As I warmed up with short jogs along the bike path, I heard a name that seemed familiar: the race coordinator was a woman named Pam Reed.  It wasn't until after the race that I realized who she was: Pam Reed has won the Badwater Ultramarathon three times, twice finishing faster than all of the men.  This is a 135 miles uphill from Death Valley to base camp at Mount Whitney, in some years run in 135 degree temperatures.   I had recently read "Running Man" by Charlie Engle, and he mentioned her name a few times in the book, including thanking her in the acknowledgements.  

Running through snow flurries in mile 1

Miles 0 - 6:
Teton Village to Snake River

Due to the cold temperatures (but for me a wonderful break from Atlanta summer), many runners stayed warm on buses parked on the shoulder of the road, disembarking only a few minutes before the start.  Suddenly the bicycle trail filled with several hundred runners.  I was much too close to the front of the group, and there were too many other people for me to move back.  My strategy for the race was to simply run easily and enjoy the views, and not worry about my time.  We started at 8:00 am on the dot.  The bicycle trail was fairly crowded and I just settled in with the main mass of runners.  We were running into the wind and snow flurries were landing on my sunglasses.  The altitude didn't seem to bother me, as I knocked out mile 1 in 9:00 minutes.  Then we got into a section that was protected by trees, the group of runners had stretched out a bit, and I found myself running at an 8:30 pace.  I already knew that the race course would be gently downhill for the first five miles, and just let myself run.  

But then midway through the second mile, I checked my watch and noticed that my heart rate had skyrocketed to 185 beats per minute.  I didn't feel like I was over-exerting.  And then suddenly, I did.  The bicycle path appeared to my eyes to be heading gently uphill!  Definitely an optical illusion, since I knew that we had driven uphill in the opposite direction to get to the start of the race.  But it felt like we were running uphill for the rest of the race.  At that point, I started with a 3:30 minute run / 30 second walk pattern, and that helped me get my heart rate down to a more reasonable pace.  Bonnie was stopping at every mile marker to cheer me on.  While I appreciated her support, by the mile 3 marker, I was beginning to feel the altitude, I wanted to slow down even more, but didn't want to look bad when Bonnie could see me.  At the first water stop, she told me that she was driving into town and I would next see her at the finish.  (Don't tell Bonnie, but I was secretly relieved, now I could just run as slow or fast as I wished.)  

Elevation vs. miles.  However it didn't feel downhill by the end of mile 2. 

By this point the snow flurries had ceased.  While the temperature was still cold, the sun lit up the morning.  I was wearing two layers, the race kit that I typically wear in a January race in Atlanta, so I was comfortable.  On one short bridge over a little creek, there was a little slush on the surface, but that was the only frozen precipitation on the entire route.  Now I enjoyed seeing the south end of the beautiful Teton range to my right, as the mountains were largely obscured by snow and fog earlier in the race.  And on we ran for about 5-1/2 miles, through another water stop, approaching the town of Wilson.  I was pleasantly surprised to see that the bicycle path passed under the roadway.  And then ahead of us was a pedestrian bridge over the Snake River!  There were a few dozen spectators in this area.  The river was flowing swiftly and fairly high under the bridge, full of recent snowmelt.  

By this point I had slowed below a 10 minute / mile pace, but tried to keep my heart rate no higher than about 160 beats per minute.  After crossing the Snake River at mile 6, the bicycle path paralleled the highway from Wilson to Jackson.  At the next water station, I saw a road sign reading "Jackson, 7.5 miles" and wondered how we would get to a point south of the town center in only 7.1 miles.  Near the end of mile 8, we encountered the first real uphill section.  I shortened my run segments to 2:30, and increased my walk segments when needed.  I was a little disappointed to need 11:30 for mile 8, but afterwards saw that the elevation gain was 76 feet.  Cresting the hill, I could tell that we were truly heading downhill once again, but couldn't turn over my legs fast enough to take advantage of it, barely faster than an 11 minute / mile pace.  After another underpass taking us to the south side of the road, the bicycle path left the roadway to cut across a field, with a fence separating us from a large ranch to our right.  Now I realized how we would get into Jackson, by this "short cut."  It was the first time that I had run past dozens of cows in a race!  To the left, a large hill separated the path from the city of Jackson.  A few runners stopped to take photos, but I kept moving forward.  

This well-run race had at least 5, maybe 6 water stations. 

Midway through mile 10, we passed the hill and entered the outskirts of Jackson, in a residential neighborhool.  A young boy called out to a woman running near me "Mommy, you're winning!"  At that moment I would have loved to have seen Bonnie for similar encouragement.  She slowed down for a moment to talk with her son and his father, then picked up her pace to move ahead of me and soon out of sight.  For me, I was dealing with a slight headache, which I attributed to altitude.  It didn't get any worse, but I didn't try to run faster either.  

On a couple of occasions, the bicycle path crossed city streets.  However, there were a couple of volunteers at each intersection to stop traffic, while cheering us on.  In mile 11, the pathway paralleled Flat Creek, passing over the creek on several small picturesque bridges.  Unfortunately each little bridge was an uphill struggle!  But I really enjoyed seeing the undeveloped forest to the right of the bicycle path.  This stage of the race route had some of the best aspects of a trail run, without worrying about tripping over roots.  

Miles 6 - 13.1, Snake River to Snow King Ski Resort

Shortly before the mile 12 marker, the bicycle pathway turned into the right lane of the neighborhood streets.  I was nearly out of energy.  What I didn't realize was that the route was truly uphill from mile 11 to the end of the race, gradually rising about 100 feet over this distance.  This wouldn't seem like much except that the altitude was a challenge.  I felt like I was in miles 21 or 22, whereas I was actually only running miles 11 and 12, just a bit faster than 12-minute miles.  Nonetheless the volunteers were very encouraging, and I tried to keep up a decent pace.  At that moment, I was really glad to have the experience of a few marathons, drawing on that mental toughness to keep moving forward. 

The last stage of the race was on Snow King Avenue.  Passing the mile 12 marker (which felt like mile 25), I resolved to pick up the pace as best as I could.  That proved a considerable challenge with the 70-foot elevation rise, but determination kept me moving along.  I even passed one person.  And then I heard the sounds of people cheering from Phil Baux park.  I couldn't see the finish line until about 1 block before the end, but turned on a decent amount of speed, running around an 8:40 pace for the last 0.1 mile.  Indeed both the excitement and the struggle felt like the final yards of a marathon.  One right turn into the park, a 100-feet dash to the finish, and DONE!  A volunteer handed me a medal before I could slow down, and there was Bonnie waiting to record the finish!  

I was smiling but it took a few minutes for me to catch my breath.  I felt a little unsteady at first, but after downing a bottle of water, my equilibrium had returned and I even enjoyed a couple of slices of cheese pizza at the post-race party.  Official time: 2:16:58, averaging a 10:27 min / mile pace, although that wasn't representative of most of my miles run this morning.    

Snow King ski run behind me, nearly
free of snow in June