November 9, 2019: Mercedes-Benz Stadium 5K / Walk Like MADD

I had not intended to sign up for this race, as I'm now focusing on training for a couple of half marathons later this year, with training culminating in the Publix Atlanta Marathon on March 1.  But when the following e-mail landed in my in-box: 

$40 later, I had registered for the race, and in the lottery to win the free tickets.  I went to bed that night thinking of which three friends would make the cut to join me in the suite ... and waited and waited through the morning of the game for the e-mail informing me that I had won.  The e-mail never came.  Fortunately, Atlanta United won the game, 2 - 0, and hosted Toronto F.C. in the following week for the Eastern Conference Championship.  If Atlanta had won, we would have hosted the MLS Cup Championship on November 10, and at the end of the 5K race, I would have joyfully run onto the field the day before the big game.  Sadly, Atlanta United was outplayed by a scrappy and experienced Toronto side, losing 1 - 2.  Tomorrow's championship will be played at the opposite corner of the country, in Seattle, the home of the Western Conference Champion.  

But regarding my running: after an unusually long summer of training through the heat, the temperature has suddenly dropped.  With the cooler weather, a reserve of speed and endurance has emerged.  Training is going well.  Coach Carl Leivers gave me the green light for today's race: 

"Up to you how hard to push this one, but have fun with it either way!"

Carl has emphasized with his runners the importance of staying in control when running fast, to maintain good form and avoiding straining.  I realize that when I've run fast with a breakdown in form, that's when I've strained muscles.  That ruined a marathon in spring 2018, and interrupted my training for a half-marathon PR attempt in spring 2019.  I'm determined not to do anything that will injure me in this round of training.  

After I struggled in mile 8 of the 10-miler, I asked Carl for some guidance on mental training.  He recommended the following book: "Running Within: A guide to mastering the body-mind-spirit connection for ultimate training and racing" by Jerry Lynch and Warren Scott.  So far, I've only read the first few chapters, but have already gained an appreciation for a positive mind-set and self-talk.  For this marathon training cycle, the mantra is "Patience", and when it's time for speed work, the mantra is "Glide."  I've put those into practice in the last two track workouts with Carl's group, and he's noticed that I'm running well.  I realize that means that I'm running the workout as prescribed and with consistency from start to finish.  The section that I'm currently reading describes a "Warrior" mind-set. 

Shortly before the race, in wave B

For today's race, I arrived about an hour ahead of time, with plenty of time to pick up my bib, walk a bit and dynamically stretch before setting out on a warmup run.  At first, with 35 degree temperatures and 10 mile per hour wind, I was concerned that I might not have a good race.  But by the end of the first mile, I had warmed up and my mind-set was shifting in a positive direction.  And by the time that I had returned to the starting area, after about 2.3 miles, I was ready to run a good race!  I started with wave B, a little further back from the front of the wave than I would have liked, but I had adjusted one of my shoelaces that hadn't felt quite right during the warm up, and the corral was quite full.  I shouldn't have been surprised: nearly 4000 people completed today's race.  

I had three goals for today's race: 

1) don't get hurt, 

2) have fun wearing my Atlanta United jersey into the stadium, and 

3) aim for a progression, running the first mile in about 8 minutes even, then try to go a little faster for the second mile, and even faster for the third mile, and then near the end, run as fast as possible for a strong finish.  

I tried to keep moving around in the cold air as we waited in the corral for wave A to begin.  Before we started, one of Bonnie's friends asked me, "Are you trying for a PR today?" I laughed and said "Probably not, although I do run well in this part of town."      Finally, wave A moved out, and wave B walked up to the starting mat.  I couldn't really hear the starting instructions in the back of the wave, but I did hear when the airhorn sounded.  It was probably a full minute before I reached the starting line, but then we all moved at a good pace to begin the race.  Running next to the Georgia World Congress Center on Andrew Young International Boulevard, we made a right turn at the corner of the CNN Center, onto Marietta Street.  I quickly established a quick but relatively easy pace, about an 8:15 minute / mile.  The first few blocks were a little crowded, but I just followed another man that was blazing a route, and avoided trampling over anyone as I moved forward through the wave.   With another right turn onto Forsyth Street, running due south, there was a little more room in the runner's lane.  I fondly recalled running in the other direction on Forsyth Street in the ATL 20 K in late August - and then also recalled how many potholes and divots were on Forsyth Street.  None of the road hazards had departed in the past two months.  I carefully watched my path as I raced ahead.  A fall could certainly ruin this training cycle.  (I learned after the race that another Tucker Running Club participant, starting just after me in wave C, had fallen due to a road hazard, although she completed the race.)  Patrons stepping outside of a McDonald's cheered us as we ran by.  

Passing the mile 1 marker in 7:58, we made a slight right turn onto Peters Avenue, and over a railroad bridge.  For me, this was the first noticeable uphill section, but I just trusted my training and relative familiarity with the route.  I was thankful to cross the bridge earlier in the race, while my legs were still fresh.  Now I began consciously telling myself to speed up, on occasion finding people ahead of me that were moving more slowly, and then "gliding" past them.   We ran down Peters Avenue for a full mile.  Although I was trying to drop my pace to 7:30, today I finished mile 2 in 7:47, 15:45 elapsed.  Not to worry, that was still faster than my first mile. 

We turned onto Chapel Street, which merged into Northside Drive.  There was the steepest little hill at this point, but I just relaxed and glided to the top of the hill.  Before I knew it, I had crested the hill, at 17 minutes elapsed.  Wasn't that easy?  Here I first glimpsed the gleaming silvery roof of Mercedes-Benz Stadium in the distance.  7 minutes to go? or 8 minutes? I picked up my speed - and yes, I had a higher gear to work with today.  Just one mile to go - "you can do anything for 1 mile" I told myself.  Then for the first time in at least a mile, a runner passed me, on my right, a man in dreadlocks.  I picked up my pace to keep him from opening too much of a gap.  Then a younger man passed, wearing the race shirt.  I remembered Chris McClung's advice from the Running Rogue podcast: "In a 5K, if people are passing you after the first mile, that means that you're slowing down."  With his words ringing in my ears, I sped up some more.  The young man passed Mr. Dreadlocks but I drew nearly even, but didn't get ahead of him.  Then a young woman running in a pink padded jacket passed on my left.  She was running easily, and I didn't try to catch up to her.  However I noted with satisfaction that all three people who had passed me were still in sight - oops, then another man passed me on the right.  

In the meantime, the stadium had drawn much closer.  At 21 minutes elapsed, I began looking ahead to see where people were entering the stadium.  Acckkkk - we weren't going to run directly into the stadium, but would run past a corner of the stadium.  At the time, it looked like it was all the way around on the other side of the stadium.  Then the word "Warrior" came to mind.  My inner "Warrior" side kicked in - I didn't know that I really had a warrior within me - but I sped up a little more.  Finally I saw ahead where the runners were entering the stadium, next to the 3 mile marker!  23 minutes flat on my watch at that point, 23:20 before 3 miles recorded on my watch - but mile 3 had taken only 7:35.  Again, I had hoped to run just a little faster than that, but my mile 3 was faster than mile 2, so I definitely successfully executed today's race plan. 

Running into the stadium, I raised my sunglasses onto my head, and then accelerated some more.  Volunteers and spectators encouraged us forward.  I tapped my inner Josef Martínez.  Or maybe he was the just-retired defender Michael Parkhurst, still a pretty fast runner, I'm sure.  I had no idea how far we would run inside the building before reaching the field, but it may have been only 50 - 60 yards.  Then we ran through an inflated tunnel - just like the other athletes that play for the superb Atlanta United team (and the disappointing Falcons, currently in last place with a 1 - 7 won - loss record) and onto the field.  As we ran along a sideline on the NFL-chalked field, I was surprised by the softness of the turf.  I should have changed into cleats!  Nevertheless, I zipped past a young woman in a blue shirt who had passed me a moment earlier, and glided across the finish line at the distal 40-yard line.  As I reached across my body to turn off my watch, I took a second to mimic Josef Martínez's penalty kick: an annoying little skip, followed by pretending to strike a ball into a net. 

Just a few seconds before crossing the finish line.
I've eclipsed the woman in blue that I just passed. 

23:59.7 on my watch!  That's among my five fastest 5K runs!  Official time was 23:57! 

Best of all, I wasn't exhausted!  Yes, I had just completed a challenging workout, but I had remained in control from start to finish.  In contrast to most previous races, my heart rate did not spike near the finish, even though I continued to speed up in the final fraction of a mile.  

23:57 is just 27 seconds slower than my personal best, which I ran a couple of years ago, in sub-freezing weather.  Even if I wasn't faster, I ran today's race better, according to a plan and under control from start to finish, maintaining good form, thus diminishing the risk of injury.  I certainly had fun running this race, and the months of training with Carl Leivers are now showing results!  With continued training, I believe that I can shave at least 10 seconds from each mile in next year's race, if it's run on the same course.  This warrior is "calling his shot", but with some patience: I will set a new personal record for the 5K distance in the year 2020.  

A bunch of happy Tucker Running Club athletes,
celebrating Tiffany's birthday after the race! 

October 20, 2019: The PNC Atlanta 10-Miler

The Atlanta 10-Miler is one of my favorite races.  I think back to the first time I ran this distance in fall 2014: running this distance, and doing it well gave me the confidence to go after the 13.1 mile distance, which over the next two years led to my first of five marathons to date.  

With Tes Sobomehin Marshall, who was volunteering
with a large "Got Questions?" sign

In 2017, I had one of the best races of my life on this course, running a new personal record of 1:27:25, with eight consistent miles from the start, and then dropping the hammer at the mile 8 sign to accelerate through miles 9 and 10.  I knew that I might not ever beat that time.  But I decided to take another shot at improving my time in this year's race.  

Bonnie and I arrived more than 90 minutes ahead of time: plenty of time for multiple porta-potty breaks, so I started today's race with an empty bladder!  The weather was cool and cloudy.  Although the streets were still a little damp from yesterday's 1-inch rainfall, it looked like the rain was over, and the conditions were ideal for a good run.  

I decided to start in the very back of wave B, trying for a 1:25 finish or an 8:30 min / mile pace.  I thought that 8:45 min / mile was more realistic, but was counting on the runners in front of me to rein me in at a pace that I could maintain.  If I had started in the front of wave C, I might just knock out a sub-8 minute mile 1, and then completely fall apart somewhere in the hills of the middle miles. 

The strategy worked perfectly, as we ran out of Atlantic Station, onto 17th Street, and then turning onto Peachtree Street heading north.  Roxana Allen and I ran together for the first couple of miles.  However I had resolved to walk through every water stop, taking water or Gatorade at each stop, to stay hydrated.  With the cool conditions, and knowing that I could rely on the Atlanta Track Club to have fully manned water stations, I didn't carry my own water today.  The first mile was a conservative 9:01, followed by 8:34 for the second mile, as we began to head down Cardiac Hill.  I maintained a fairly steady pace as we continued the rest of the way to Peachtree Creek, turning right into the Peachtree Hills neighbhorhood before the mile 3 sign, 8:29 and 26 minutes elapsed.  

I felt strong running up and down the hills, without getting too tired, occasionally chatting about the race route with other runners, exchanging high fives with cheer groups - and low fives with the many children encouraging us through the miles.  Everything went smoothly through miles 4 and then turning onto Piedmont Road for mile 5, at 8:46 and 8:59.  I crossed the mile 5 timing mat at 43:50, just 5 seconds slower than two years ago, and exactly what I had hoped for.  

The key was to aim for the same 8:45 - 8:50 min / mile pace for the next three miles, through the hills.  I took a Shot Blok coming up on the water station, about 51 minutes in.  I was completely focused, running mile 6 in 8:50.    Encountering a tough uphill south of Monroe Drive, I slowed a bit, but cresting into the Botanical Gardens, I picked up the pace again, blowing out accumulated carbon dioxide, and then downhill into Piedmont Park.  In this section, the route was a little different this year, taking the long way around the Active Oval, in the opposite direction of several victorious finishes in the Galloway Half Marathons in December.  Mile 7 was a little slow, at 9:08, approaching 62 minutes elapsed.   To make my goal of 1:27, I needed to run the next three miles at 8:20 min / mile pace. 

Heading out of the park through the 12th Street Gate, I took a walk break at the water station, as the road headed uphill.  This is where my resolve crumbled, my mental training had been insufficient.  I saw the 12th Street hill towering ahead, just one long block but a very long block indeed.  I should have walked for only 15 - 20 seconds, but took a second Shot Blok and a second cup of Gatorade, walked some more, and finally began chugging up the hill.  Looking at my stats afterwards, that 45 second walk break nicely dropped my heart rate, but the time was difficult to make up.  Turning onto Juniper Street, the elevation dropped, and I sped up, but crossing 10th Street, I faltered again as we went uphill.  I was aware that my pace was slower than 10 minute / mile.  It wasn't until Josué Machado passed me that I started to pick up my pace again.  But it was too late, 9:53 for mile 8, 1:11:41 elapsed.  Now I needed a couple of 7:50 miles to match my PR.  

about 1 minute before finishing, on 17th Street.
Two balding white guys racing each other,
what's more exciting than that?!
He crossed the finish line 3 seconds ahead of me :(

But the great thing about mile 8 was that it was the highest point of the course, and I knew it.  Mental energy re-engaged, I began to accelerate, running west on 5th Street, then north onto West Peachtree Street.  Go, go, go, pushing up the short hills and gliding down the longer downhill stretches.  The hill at 10th Street was a challenge once again, and it slowed my pace above 8 min / mile, but I surged again, go, go, go!  8:17 for mile 9, 1 hour 20 minutes elapsed.  

Now it was almost impossible to better my personal record.  But I would not give up today.  I was having a good run, except for Mile 8, and going into the finish, I now felt good.  One last water stop: should I walk, should I take something?  Without breaking stride, I grabbed a cup of blue Gatorade, splashed 1/3 into my right eye, 1/3 into my mouth, and the last 1/3 spilled down my shirt.  At least the Gatorade didn't make my eye sting!  

Making the turn onto 17th Street, heading over the loooong bridge spanning Interstates 85 and 75, I felt myself slow again.  I just told myself to stride, and some speed gradually returned, 1 hr. 25 min. elapsed.  Entering Atlantic Station, I knew that this year's finish line was a block closer than in past years. 1:26.  Was that close enough?  I tried to run faster and faster as another minute ticked away, 1:27.  I'm not gonna beat 1:27:25, but I'm still gonna finish strongly.  Go, go, go, and at 1:28, finally there was the turn from 17th Street.   One short block, a young woman passed me, and another right turn and the finish line should be right there, ... no ... it's 50 yards away, but no one else is gonna pass me if I run as fast as I can, and crossing over the timing mat, 1:28:37!  Not a personal record, but it was my second-fastest time to run a 10 mile distance!  

My first thought was that I probably could have run this a little faster, if not for that pesky mile 8!  Nonetheless I'm really proud that my last two miles were my fastest, even though, yes, they were net downhill.  But best of all, I didn't feel badly as I finished.  Part of what helped my strong finish was that my heart rate never spiked, although it very gradually rose with the miles.  

A moment after finishing, still in the corral, all smiles today! 

Some of the Tucker Running Club members who ran this morning. 

With Lizz and Josh Mann.  Lizz ran the Chicago Marathon last weekend,
and came back for 10 more miles today! 

I was 818th out of 3993 finishers, 609th among 1925 men, 39th out of 157 in the male 55 - 59 age group. 

October 5, 2019: The Race half-marathon

Hotlanta has been exactly that this summer.  Two weeks past the autumn equinox, it's still far too warm.  I can't call it fall season, when yesterday afternoon's high temperature was 97 degrees F.  I've trained through this unusually hot weather, moving most of my runs to the early morning hours, but lately those temperatures have dropped no lower than the low-70's.  Nonetheless I had a good workout Tuesday evening with Coach Carl's group on the track at Emory University.  In a lactate threshold workout: 16 x 400 meter laps at a goal pace of 2:05 per lap, then resting 30 seconds between laps: I ran every lap consistently, between 2:00 to 2:05, despite 90 degree temperatures.  

Today's half-marathon was my 25th overall, but only my third of 2019.  A muscle strain hampered my performance in the Publix Atlanta Half-Marathon in March, and I suffered with the altitude at the Jackson Hole Half in June.  In today's race, the 75 degree F  temperature would be the likely culprit.  I had originally had this as a "goal" race in my training program, but without cooler temperature, it wasn't realistic to try for a new personal record.  A finish under 2 hours was probably too much to hope for, but I wanted to run as close to that goal as possible. 

I left the house around 5:30 am, 90 minutes before the 7:00 am start time.  Actually, it was closer to 5:40 am because I ran back into the house to empty my bladder one last time.  Google Maps predicted 30 minute travel time.  But getting off of Langford Parkway at 6:10 am, it took me nearly 50 minutes to travel the last half-mile to the parking lot.  While I was stuck in traffic, my bladder began to protest again.  I could hear the race announcer call "T - minus 7 minutes" as my car crawled through the final block.  Finally I made it to the parking lot entrance "T - minus 4 minutes", the parking attendants waved me to the back of the lot.  I pulled into one of the last available parking places at 6:58 am, grabbed my stuff including a large hand-held water bottle, and looked for the porta-potties.  They were between my car and the starting line - but there was a long line of people waiting - the 5K runners wouldn't begin until 7:15 am.  "The Race begins in 45 seconds!"  I dashed to the starting area while syncing my watch, ducked under the rope for my corral, next to the 2:15 pace group, and the announcer started The Race.  No warmup, no stretching, just running. 

It was a good thing that my plan was to simply stick with the 2:15 pacers for the first mile, as we slowly worked our way over a giant hill on Sylvan Road.  The pacers were Angie O'Neal and Bob Wells, both age 50-something runners, and David Bloomquist was also running near that group at the beginning.  I thought about ducking into one of the gas stations near Langford Parkway for a quick bathroom break, but decided that I could run for awhile without relieving myself.  I stayed with the 2:15 pace group for the first mile, although we covered that a little quickly, at 9:38.  I probably should have stuck with them for a little longer, but after the first mile marker, I moved in front, covering mile 2 in 9:11, and mile 3 in 8:50.  At the last minute, I had debated leaving the hand-held water bottle at the car and just relying on a bottle of Nuun on my running belt along with the aid stations, but after I noticed dryness in my throat early in mile 2, I was happy to have my own water.  Unfortunately I had to balance quenching my thirst against adding more pressure on my bladder, and spit out most of that first sip.  

As the sun rose around 7:30 am, my legs still felt good.  On occasion there was a nice breeze that made it feel a little cooler than the reported temperature of 75 degrees.  Every time that I checked my heart rate on my watch, I saw 150 - 160 bpm, but when I checked my stats after the race, it had averaged mid-160 bpm after mile 3.  Nonetheless I felt good overall.  I was trying to ignore the discomfort in my bladder.  The first of several bands were playing as I approached the mile 4 marker.  In a segment of mile 5 near Spelman College where we paralleled the faster runners in their mile 6, I enjoyed congratulating and encouraging the other runners - and in that section spotted my Dean, Michael Elliott, on his way to a 1:46 finish.  I passed the intersection where I was nearly hit by a car in a late August race: today I observed that the police did an excellent job protecting the race course from cars on the street, from start to finish.  I ran miles 4 and 5 in 8:46 and 8:49, finishing mile 5 in 45:14, on pace for a finish just under 2 hours.  The mile 5 marker was near the high altitude point of the route, so it should be a little easier heading back to the start-finish area.  I wondered, how long can I keep this up?  

Lots of hills.  It's Atlanta.

The answer: about 8 miles, finishing 6, 7, and 8 in 8:54, 9:08, and 9:30.  Despite some downhill sections in those miles, I began slowing down.  I tried to relax, use the mantra "trust your training" and keep a positive mind-set.  Unfortunately my heart rate averaged in the mid- to high-160's, and my bladder continued to bother me.  As we turned onto the Westside Beltline, which I had looked forward to running for miles 9 and 10, my pace continued to slow.  I needed 10:00 for mile 9.  We then headed uphill in a two-block departure from the Beltline, and I took my first substantial walk break.  I gave up on trying for sub-2 hours at that point.  For the rest of The Race, it was just about getting to the finish line.  However, there were a few highlights in this section.  Another band perked me up for a moment as we returned to the Beltline.  Nevertheless, finishing mile 10 in 10:56, 1:33:42 overall, was a big disappointment.  Could I get to the finish line, just 5K away, in 26 minutes?  Not today, not after the last difficult miles.  Thinking ahead to the goal for my next race, the Atlanta 10-Miler race in two weeks, a sub-1:30 finish didn't seem very realistic at this moment.  

We left the Beltline at the mile 10 cheering station with support from Girls on the Run, returning to the streets.  Jennifer Akor, who also trains with Coach Carl, worked at one of the water stops in this section, and few minutes later, Tommy Daniels, who I had met at the Boston Half-Marathon a couple of years ago, cheered me onward.  In an out-and-back section, I saw David Bloomquist less than a minute behind me.  I thought, I'm moving so slowly now that he will catch up to me very soon.  Plenty of other people were passing me.  A blister was forming on my left big toe.  Volunteers and police kept calling out "You're looking great!"  I guess they were looking at whichever runner was passing me in that moment, because I certainly didn't feel great.  

I felt bad.  

Not about to collapse bad, not about to vomit bad, but just - 

not enjoying myself bad.

I remembered hearing a few years ago that 75% of elite runners pee themselves while they run.  I was wearing black shorts and they were already soaked wet with my sweat ... but no, I'm not an elite runner.  And everyone would notice the odor.  Everyone.  So I kept holding it in.  Mile 11, 11:09.  Did I mention that I had given up on any goals by this stage?  Finishing, that was the only goal.  If I finished without peeing myself or stopping along the way, bonus points.  At least we had turned back onto Sylvan Road, the same road where we had begun an hour and 45 minutes ago.  It was a straight shot from here, until one last turn right before the finish line.  2.11 miles away.  Porta-potty 2.12 miles away.  And we still had to run up and down several more hills.  The breeze that I had welcomed earlier in the morning now chilled me through my sweat-soaked clothes.  Mile 12, 11:12.  

With just 1.11 miles to go, I began to push myself a little bit, especially on level and downhill sections.  With all of the walk breaks that I had taken in the past three miles, my heart rate was down to a more reasonable level, averaging mid-150 bpm.  I along with most of the others around me still needed walk breaks in the uphill sections.  A few people passed me, but I found that for the most part I caught up or kept up when I resumed running.  Around the time that my watch read two hours elapsed, I saw Langford Parkway up ahead.  Up.  Overhead.  Near the top of a big hill.  Fortunately there were quite a few cheer groups along Sylvan Road.  I passed through the intersection where I had waited in traffic in my car at 6:30 am, knowing from Google Maps that I had just 0.5 miles to get to the finish.  One last walk break in the Langford Parkway underpass, and then I began running uphill through the Reggae Runnerz cheer group.  David Bloomquist caught up with me by this point, and had moved just ahead. 

The short version of my race.  The rotated chart shows how nicely I progressed in the first several miles, then gradually fell off the pace through mile 9, and more substantially in miles 10 - 12, then picked it up a bit in mile 13 and finished surprisingly strongly.  

As my watch signalled mile 13 in 10:37, I began running a little faster.  Actually a lot faster.  I don't know where that reserve of energy or speed came from.  I guess the speed workouts with Coach Carl gave me the turnover that I needed.  Maybe it was because I could reach the porta-potty sooner if I ran a little faster.  As we neared the last turn, I sped up some more, passing David and a teenage runner who had passed me a couple of miles back.  David responded with his own burst of speed, which I could not answer.  Running down the long finishing chute, very very long, at least I knew that I would break 2:09 chip time.  Someone shouted encouragement to me to catch up to David, but I didn't have the will or the energy to do so.  But no one else passed me.  Finally I crossed the finish line, 2:09:00 on the clock, 2:08:30 chip time.  I looked up with relief, stumbled to the line of volunteers handing out medals and let a man drape the medal over my head.  And then I walked to the nearest porta-potty, congratulating David as I passed by.   

Nice medal. 

I felt good enough to smile about 10 minutes after finishing. 

I thought, "what a relief" as I emptied a bladder that had plagued me for close to three hours.  But the blister on my toe really hurt, my calves were very tight, even my right shoulder ached.  I returned to the finish area to watch others complete The Race, but couldn't muster any energy to cheer for them.  After a few minutes I headed to my car to change into dry clothes, and to drive home.  Even going out of the way to avoid crossing the race route, it only took me 35 minutes to get home.  And I barely kept up to 55 mph on the interstate highway, as I really had to concentrate on the drive home, as I was really tired.  

When I checked the results a few hours later, I was shocked: I placed second in my age group!!  2nd out of 22 male age 55 - 59 finishers!  Perhaps I shouldn't have been too disappointed in my overall performance, as I was 156th out of 736 finishers.  I guess the warm temperature bothered a lot of people - or perhaps it was just a matter of who showed up for this particular race.  I also realized when I checked Athlinks that it was my best half-marathon for 2019, so far.   

  

Age group result (above)
My position in the overall standings, along with 10K and 15K splits (below)

September 21, 2019: Wingfoot Cross-Country 5K

In the past few days, the morning temperatures in Atlanta have finally cooled, although it still gets warm in the evenings.  I struggled through a 15 mile long run last Saturday morning at 75 deg F with 90% humidity, and had to cut short a speed workout on the track on Tuesday evening by four repetitions (1/2 mile), due to 90 deg F temperature.  On the other hand, I've built some strength throughout the heat of the long summer.  By regularly running strides at the end of some of my shorter weekday runs, my short-duration sprints have improved.  

I made the one-hour drive to Cartersville early this morning for the annual Atlanta Track Club Wingfoot cross-country meet, mostly just to earn the Grand Prix participation points.  The temperature was the coolest that I've felt in months, 59 deg F at the start.  I decided to race, aiming to better my course time of 25:06 in 2016 - on the same field but a substantially different course layout.  More importantly, I committed to start the race with good pace discipline, beginning conservatively and then gradually increasing my speed.  

As we gathered at the starting line shortly before 7:15 am, the number of runners seemed smaller than in previous years.  There was plenty of room for us all to toe the starting line.  After a pre-race announcement, the starter climbed onto a haybale in the middle of the field, waved a red flag, and then fired the starting pistol.  A puff of smoke rose in the air as a wave of eager runners flowed down the hill.  In previous years, I've often run down this hill far too fast - this time I held my pace at a relatively easy jog, aiming for no faster than an 8:00 min / mile pace.  Near the bottom of the hill, I took a quick peek at my watch, saw a pace of 8-low - perfect!  I made a left turn over a gulley without mishap, and settled into the running lane for the first mile.  I had started conservatively enough so that no one was passing me.  I weaved around a few children, taking care not to run over them.  We crossed the obligatory three rows of hay bales shortly before completing the first mile, up-and-over without raising my heart rate.  My watch signaled 1 mile complete at 8:11.4, and a few steps later I crossed the 1-mile timing mat at 8:17.8 (official).  If that was a little slow, I was now confident that I had plenty of reserve to run 2.11 strong miles.  Now to speed up a bit!  And unlike the Labor Day race, my legs responded to the command. 

We soon reached another timing mat, corresponding to the 2-mile mark for the lead runners coming in the other direction.  I noticed several Georgia Tech runners crossing the 2-mile mat at the same time as I passed in the other direction, at 10:28.3 elapsed (2050 meters for me, 1.27 miles), which meant that they were on pace for a 16-minute finish - amazing!  They didn't even look like they were exerting that much, but it was probably the efficiency of their effort that I observed.  In the 1/4-mile since the first timing strip, I had passed 6 people (thanks to the Atlanta Track Club for providing these detailed stats!).  Near the end of the second mile, I caught up to Bob Wells, a fellow age-group competitor.  Bob volunteers for many Atlanta Track Club events, and is deservedly well-known and liked.  I had thought that we might run together for awhile, but after we crossed the 2-mile timing mat together, my pace was a little faster than his, and so I moved ahead.  For the rest of the race, I heard people cheering "Go Bob!" and used that information to guess how far ahead of him I was.  My watch signaled two miles completed at 16:04, consistent with a 7:53 second mile.  I reached the 2-mile timing mat at 16:17.6, officially 8:00 minutes even - and having passed another 12 people.  

Now for the final 1.11 miles!  Once I had passed Bob Wells, I deliberately but slightly accelerated, reaching another timing mat at 3550 meters (2.21 miles) at 17:52.4, having passed 2 more people.  I began to tire a bit - but this was no time to let up.  I had run so well to this point, I wasn't going to let this effort slip away.  Positive attitude!!  I really enjoyed how strongly I ran up little 5-foot hills throughout the course, taking short powerful steps propelling myself past a couple of other runners each time.  For most of the final mile, I raced a couple of young women.  I caught up with them, passed one of them, then the other.  A moment later, one and then the other of the women moved ahead of me, but I found the energy to catch up.  We went back and forth exchanging the lead in our trio, occasionally passing other runners who had expended their energy too quickly.  My watch signaled 3 miles completed at 23:52, well before I saw the 3-mile sign, however that corresponded to a 7:48 third mile on my watch, confirming that I continued to speed up.  

Racing to the finish, there was another 5-foot hill to scrambled up, and I moved in front of both women.  Where was the finish line?!  Might I finish in less than 25 minutes?  I ran as fast as I could, but both women caught up to me as the finish line came into sight.  I saw 24-high on the clock - I found the speed for one last sprint, and here the stride workouts paid off: I rocketed ahead for a moment.  The clock clicked past 25 minutes.  It was almost too much of an effort for me, coupled with the momentary disappointment upon seeing 25:06 - 25:07 - 25:08 on the clock before I crossed the finish line mat, thankfully before I had run out of energy.  I recorded 25:11 on my watch.  My official finish time was 25:09.1, having passed 8 more people in the last stretch, to finish 148th overall.  The results showed that I was 0.3 seconds ahead of one woman and 0.8 seconds ahead of the second of "the two Margarets."  

All three of us advanced our places from the first mile to the finish, but I made the biggest jump. 

Although I didn't better my goal time of 25:06, I was very happy with the progressive nature of my race.  One of the Margarets congratulated me as we picked up bottled water from the volunteers.  My watch recorded a total distance of 3.19 miles, running the final 0.19 miles at a 6:53 min / mile pace.  I was definitely pleased with my strong finish. 

After cooling down, rehydrating, and chatting with a couple of friends in the Tucker Running Club, I set out for 5 easy miles on the Etowah Riverwalk Trail, completing a nice weekend workout before driving back to Atlanta.  

The trees on either side are memorials to local residents.

A field of cotton lies just south of the race route.

September 2, 2019: The Big Peach Sizzler 10K

After outrunning Brian Minor in the Decatur-DeKalb 4-miler in early August, he asked for a rematch!  We agreed to race again at the Big Peach Sizzler 10K, with 30 days to prepare.  On a whim, I created a poster in the style of a boxing or monster truck ad:

Brian responded with a text: "I'm taking our rematch competitively serious and will not underestimate you.  You have unleashed the beast.  lol"  along with photos of his running gear and training plan. 

With Carl Line after we both placed
at the Kirkwood Spring Fling 5K
(Bonnie wasn't there, otherwise we
would have a better photo!)

In the midst of a month of friendly trash-talking, I ran the ATL 20K.  To the surprise of us both, I passed Carl Line in the final quarter-mile of the race, and we ended up second- and third-place in our age group.  At bib pickup on Thursday evening, Carl promised that he would try to beat me - and now I had a second competitor hot on my heels for today's race.  

Although both Brian and Carl have generally outrun me in most races, my recent training had gone well.  If either of them ran a personal best, I wouldn't have a chance to win, knowing that I had only broken the 50-minute barrier once.  I set my 10K PR at 49:28 in this very race two years ago, on an unusually cool morning: 58 degrees F at the start.  At least I knew the course very well, having run this race every year since September 2014.  And once again, Big Peach Running Company had a 50-minute pace group, which I counted on for motivation and proper pacing.  

After chatting with a large number of friends who were also running this race, and getting a few pre-race photos of the competitors, it was time to warmup and head to the starting area.  I suggested that we start together, close to but behind the 50-minute pacers.  As I jogged to the starting area, I tried to run a few strides.  My legs felt OK, but I just didn't feel fast.  I tried not to let that get into my head, probably just a little pre-race nervousness.  I was pretty sure that once we started the race, I would have no difficulty reaching my goal pace at the beginning, around 8:00 min / mile.  I just hoped that I could maintain that pace for the entire race.  

Frank won the pre-race wrassling.  Just like his cat Waffles.  

Carl, Brian, and Frank before the race

The weather was beautiful.  I was very comfortable just standing around, around 70 deg F.  I didn't notice any humidity, although my Garmin stats recorded 83% humidity at the start.  Carl joined me shortly after I got in position behind the first of the 50 minute pacers.  As the corral began to fill, I looked around for Brian, but didn't see him.  I said hello to several other runners around us, including Bryan Greenberg, Kristi Swartz, and Bob Wells - all three can run a bit faster than me.  And then I saw Robin Mitchell and Jeff Norris a few rows behind me - they both run much faster (and both did so today).  

Where was Brian Minor??  

I kept looking from side-to-side, wondering what had delayed him, after all he had instigated the original idea of a race.  After all that talk, Brian wasn't at the start with me?!  I told Carl, "I bet Brian is starting behind us, so he can keep an eye on me."  Then it was time to begin.  

Bonnie photographed me at the start: "Where's Frank?"

Why is Frank looking to the side, when all of the other runners are looking ahead?
"Where's Brian?!" 

The starting line for the course was in a slightly different location from previous years.  That may be due to the new buildings and ongoing construction in the area, which has built up quite a bit in the few years that I've run this race.  As a result, we had a downhill start.  In the past, the course has been net level: this year it was net downhill by about 20 feet, so ideal for setting a new record!  I had no trouble at all getting up to speed, and kept close to the 50 minute pacers.  Carl even got out in front of them at the start, after making our first turn onto Malone Street.  Quickly reaching Peachtree Industrial Boulevard, we made a left turn, but the mass of runners had to squeeze between two police cars parked a little too closely together, probably only about one lane wide.  Nonetheless we made it through without any mishap that I could see.  

The race route was a series of rolling hills, nothing too substantial, just enough to make the elevation changes interesting in a good way, using different muscles for running downhill, uphill, and on level ground.  I thought there were more runners this year than in past years, but everything went smoothly in the beginning.  We very quickly reached the sign for mile 1: 8:16 elapsed, within a couple of seconds of my first mile in 2017 when I set my personal record.  Now it was time to speed up a bit. 

Now it was time to speed up a bit.  

And for some reason, I just couldn't make my legs turn over much faster.  

One very nice change this year were the additional water stations.  If I recall correctly, there were five in total, near each mile marker.  On a warm day, the water stations are literally life savers.  Although I carried a bottle of Nuun on my water belt, I took a cup of water from a volunteer at each of the first three stops, but hardly slowed down at all.  I passed Carl in this section.  I knew that was risky from the perspective of racing, but I wanted to keep the 50 minute pacers in sight.  They were about 100 feet in front of me at that point.  Carl was running little slower, but was running easily.  Mile 2 ticked by in 8:09, 16:25 elapsed.  And once again I aimed to speed up a bit more, wanting to close some of the distance on the pacers.  

No acceleration.   

Midway through mile 3, I saw the pace group pass through an intersection.  I began counting seconds: I needed 45 seconds to reach the same spot.  Hmm, I won't break 50 minutes at this rate.  Then I realized: not only had Carl gone out too quickly, but 

I had started as if the temperature was 58 degrees.   

It was not.  It was 70 degrees. 

And where was Brian?!  Nowhere in sight.  

Mile 3, 8:22, 24:47 elapsed.  That wasn't bad for approaching the midpoint of a 10K race, but nothing close to my personal record pace, on this course.  Where was Brian?  I tried to glance quickly from side to side, but didn't catch sight of him.  My mother's words from my childhood running days rang in my head: "Don't turn around and look back, it just slows you down!"  And so I didn't look again.  I knew that Carl wasn't far behind: I could hear him thanking the police for working the intersections.  When people complimented him on his American flag shorts, he verbally acknowledged them as well.  He didn't sound like he was breathing hard at all.  I, on the other hand, couldn't afford to expend any breath at all on anything other than running.  I thought, this isn't going to go well for me vs. Carl at the end of the race.  And then Carl passed me.  He said "I was hoping to stay behind you for longer."  But the fact of the matter was, I wasn't strategically slowing down the pace, I just could not run any faster today.  

And where was Brian?! 

Mile 4, 8:40, 33:27 elapsed.  That was 20 seconds slower than what I ran in the 4-miler a month ago, on a warmer day, on a much hillier course.  Carl had opened up a 100 foot gap on me.  I didn't know where I was going to find the strength to catch up with him today.  Then we would get on a downhill section, and I ran a little faster, but couldn't close the gap.  And then to my horror, I saw ahead a large truck edging out of a driveway or small street.  The runners ahead of me slowed, the driver pulled out all the way into the road, completely blocking our route.  Finally he turned left onto the open lanes of Peachtree Road.  This didn't affect my own running speed very much, although it certainly caused some people ahead of me to stop altogether. 

This is more-or-less what the truck looked like.
Images courtesy of the website   https://royaltruck.com
Company mottos: "Service Beyond Compare" and
"Safety Takes Top Priority"

In the moment, I tried not to let that get into my head.  I didn't want any excuses for a slower-than-expected pace.  Shortly afterward, having just crossed the Fulton County line into City of Atlanta, we approached the intersection with Peachtree Dunwoody Road.  And even though there were a bunch of runners ahead of me moving quite quickly, the police were waving automobile traffic through the intersection!  Fortunately the drivers chose to stop as runners streamed in front of the cars, but the cars were stopped in the middle of our designated lane.  I was too tired to say anything more than "Please!" to the policeman responsible for the intersection.  He responded "People have to go places."  I didn't respond, just kept running.  But isn't that what the race permit is for, to protect certain lanes for the runners?  Isn't that why the race is run early in the morning, on a holiday?  And now for two weeks in a row, I've had issues with automobiles, on the race course.  

Carl finished first.

Mile 5, 9:07, 42:34 elapsed.  It would be convenient to blame my problems on the traffic, but really, I just wasn't running the race that I had planned.  Nowhere in my race plan was "Run a 9 minute mile."  My legs had been sore and tired since at least the mile 3 marker.  And plenty of other runners were passing me, left and right.  Any moment now, I expected to see Brian pass me.  I certainly didn't see Carl ahead of me any longer.  Running past Phipps Plaza and then Lenox Mall, my next landmark was the intersection with Piedmont Road, on which we would turn right.  In my personal record run two years ago, I had reached the intersection at 46 minutes flat.  This year: 49:30.

"Enough", I thought, "you're beating yourself", with less than 4 minutes to go.  And as we turned north onto Piedmont Road, and began running a long gentle downhill, I finally found the pickup in speed that I had sought since passing the mile 1 marker more than 40 minutes earlier.  I had to navigate past a runner with a stroller - the stroller was on his right side so he and the stroller took up a good part of the lane, and I was boxed in on the right by another runner that may have been running with him.  Finally I got their attention and pointed ahead and they let me get by.  That required a nice little burst of speed, but somehow I managed it.  Somewhere in this section I passed the 6-mile mark, although I neither saw the sign nor heard an alert (8:52, 51:26 elapsed), but just kept running.  Shortly before making the turn onto Lenox Road, David Bloomquist passed me, encouraging me to run faster myself.  

And then, suddenly, as if the starship Enterprise had beamed him onto the course in front of me, there was my principal competitor, my friend, my foe. 

Brian Minor.  

He began to pull away from me, and I thought, "not again!"

I found a previously unknown reservoir of strength.

I jetted past him on his left.  

That was a surprise for me, and maybe also for Brian.  

But Brian had one more surge left within him.

He passed me again, on my right.  

I was done, spent, busted.  

Brian's finish

I made the final turn toward the finish line, sweat running into my eyes, passing under the finish line banner and over both timing mats, eyes closed with pain, not even noticing the clock.

Finishing the race; the grimace 

And awkwardly crashed into another man who had, appropriately, stopped shortly after crossing the timing mats, having completed the race.  Fortunately neither of us fell.  

The thrill of victory, and
the agony of defeat.

I bent over, trying to catch my breath.  Bonnie had recorded my finish, but she was photographing other runners behind me.  Carl was stretching against a lamppost.  Lindy Liu, who had run the 5K race earlier that morning, saw that I was in distress and ran over with a cold bottle of water, and a moment later, returned with an ice-cold towel.  Thank you Lindy, that really helped.  And after I had recovered, I found the man that I had clumsily run over at the finish, and I apologized profusely - and he was very gracious. 

"Who am I?"  "What am I doing here?"

Official results (gun time only, chip time was not recorded): 

         Carl Line, 52:34, 282nd place overall (out of 1387 total finishers)

         Brian Minor, 53:12, 296th place overall

         Frank McDonald, 53:23, 303rd place overall.  

Despite my initial disappointment, once I checked my finish times from previous years, it turns out that this was my second-best time on the course!   

Over lunch at the Flying Biscuit Café, I learned Carl and Brian's perspectives on the race:  

• Before the race began, Brian was just a few feet behind us, crouching low so that we couldn't see him.  On the other hand, I was standing on my toes, looking over the crowd for him, and almost every direction except directly behind me.  
• After I passed Carl, Brian passed him, also early in the race.  Mid-race, Carl passed Brian on his way to catch up to me.  He didn't want to pass me that early in the race, but I had really slowed down.  
• Brian's thought at that moment: "I don't have a beef with Carl, he can go on ahead.  I need to keep an eye on Frank if I want to win our race."  
• When I surged upon turning onto Piedmont Road near the finish, that surprised Brian.  He had to work hard to catch up.  And when he first passed me on Lenox Road, about a block from the finish, he was impressed that I matched his first surge.  He had to leave it all on the course to finish strongly, in case I had found another surge.  

Carl certainly earned the victory today.  He ran smoothly and consistently from start to finish.  

Bronze, Gold, and Silver

Carl and I have run dozens of Thursday evening group runs from the Big Peach Running store in Decatur, and Carl always stays with the slowest runner in the group.  On many occasions the slow runner has been me.  I've particularly appreciated it that he has slowed down when I've struggled in the heat, or when I've nervously made my way on a leaf-strewn broken sidewalk, and stopping to help when I slipped and fell in a muddy sidewalk-repair zone earlier this summer.  

The Big Peach Sizzler is a special race for Carl: each year, he raises funds for the Miles for Cystic Fibrosis foundation.  I've posted a link to Carl's fundraising page, and I encourage you to donate to this cause.  

https://www.flipcause.com/secure/fundraiser/MzcxOTk=/33198

P.S. In our pre-race trash-talking, one of the jokes was that the loser would win a case of toilet paper.   

"Frank will need it after I dust him off.  lol"