April 25, 2020: Mano-a-Mano 4-Miler

In the months before COVID-19 swept the globe, the Atlanta Track Club announced the race date for the Singleton 4-Miler for April 25.  Brian Minor and I had resolved to race each other.  In case you're wondering, here is our scorecard for seven of our competitions prior to today's contest:

July 16, 2016:          Decatur DeKalb 4-Miler         Frank 34:16         Brian 32:00

July 17, 2016:          Lindbergh Mile                      Frank 7:07          Brian 7:01

January 7, 2017:      Red Nose Half Marathon        Frank 2:04:00      Brian 1:59:06

January 1, 2018:      Resolution Run 5K                 Frank 23:30 (PR)  Brian 23:26

December 9, 2018:  Jeff Galloway Half Marathon  Frank 1:58:50      Brian 1:55:54

August 3, 2019:       Decatur DeKalb 4-Miler          Frank 33:09         Brian 34:37

September 2, 2019: Big Peach Sizzler 10K             Frank 53:23         Brian 53:01

There are a few more, with much the same pattern, although I'm only counting the races that I specifically remember that we had challenged each other beforehand.  The  funny thing, before I looked up our results while writing this blog post, I had forgotten that I have lost 6 out of these 7 contests.  I've only remembered the fun that we've enjoyed before, during, and after these races.  

Oct. 22, 2017, before the Atlanta 10-Miler.  We weren't directly racing on this day,
but Brian bought me breakfast after I met his challenge to go for a personal record.  

When we learned that the Singleton race was postponed, I proposed to Brian that we hold a virtual competition: we each pick our preferred route, start at the same time, and let Strava referee.  Brian immediately accepted, and our training resumed! 

In selecting my route, my top priority was safety.  After an easy run up and down Lavista Road in Tucker, I decided that the sidewalks were too battered for me to try to run faster.  I settled on an out-and-back route at Stone Mountain Park, where one lane of the asphalt roadway is reserved for pedestrians and cyclists, and there is minimal auto traffic, restricted to one direction, in the other lane.  Brian was originally going to run the Suwanee Greenway, but after investigating the route, there were some wet spots covering the trail.  With the recent rains, Brian elected to run one of his regular routes on the sidewalk paralleling Duluth Highway.  He had one traffic light to contend with, but I gather that running the main route, the likelihood was that the light would be green when he reached that intersection.  

My route had more hills, but my biggest hill was only a 60 foot climb in the middle of the route.  I do OK with rolling hills, and all of my runs excepting those on the track are hilly runs.  At least these hills would not be as steep as those on the trails at Lucky Shoals Park.  Brian had a 100-foot hill to climb in mile 1, then descending about 60 feet, then climbing 60 feet in mile 3 of his return.  He told me that he was counting on a fast finish with the long downhill for mile 4. 

We both started on the east side of our routes, ran west 2 miles, and then returned to the start-finish area

I'm in week 4 of a 14-week training plan with Coach Carl, finishing with the Peachtree Road Race 10K on July 4.  Currently, I'm not too hopeful that we'll actually run large races that soon.  However, well before COVID-19 had spread through the United States, I had already resolved to focus on 5K to 10K training in this cycle, to develop some speed, before returning to longer endurance races, culminating in a 2021 marathon.  The training program has felt easy so far, perhaps because I'm comparing it to marathon training.  However the speed components include 15-second strides and hill repeats, as well as tempo and progression runs, trying to hit specific paces.  Carl is a big advocate of strides, once a week, at the end of shorter easy workouts, and claims that strides are one of the best ways to build speed. 

The "ass o'clock" photo means that this is a REAL race,
whether or not you think that it's virtual.  

My personal record for the 4-mile race distance is 32:53, from April 2019 in the Singleton race.  Brian has run 31:18 and 31:30, but those times date back to 2017.  I ran in both of those races, but I don't recall specifically trying to race Brian, and doubt that I would have had a chance.  Back then I was happy to break 34 minutes.   

Before I began running, I had rarely appreciated the beauty of sunrise.
Bonnie took these photos from the car on the way to Stone Mountain Park. 

Arriving at Stone Mountain shortly before 7:00 am, I had plenty of time to warm up on a 2-mile out-and-back on my chosen race route.  The weather was nearly perfect, 53 degrees F, but there was a very light drizzle toward the end of my warmup.  Around 7:20 am, Bonnie and I called Brian and Beverly on FaceBook Messenger for a short video-chat.  They had a little more rain than we did.  Brian was sporting his Chicago Marathon shirt, I was wearing traditional Tucker Running Club day-glo, and the Brooks shoes that had carried me to a big personal record in the marathon on March 1.  Based on my warmup, I wasn't sure what I might run today, but I was hoping to finish in about 34 minutes.  But I jokingly finished the call with Brian with the words "Talk to you in about 25 minutes!"   

Brian even created a bib to wear for our virtual race!
19 is his favorite number.  

Some friendly trash talk before the race! 

I did a few last-minute stretches as I toed the line at the start.  Bonnie lined up to take my photo of the start; Beverly did the same for Brian, about 10 miles away.  At 7:30 am sharp, Bonnie gave me a signal, then "Ready, Set, GO!!!!"  

Above: Brian getting inspiration before his race from their son, Brenden
Below: Beverly made signs for Brian's race! 

Above: Brian's start in the rain in Lawrenceville
Below: The drizzle had stopped at Stone Mountain, about 10 miles to the east

I had intended to run the first mile in 8:30 or so, and then try to speed up from there.  When I first glanced at my watch about 30 seconds in, I was moving at a 7:50 min / mile pace.  But I had a slight downhill start, so I settled into an easy rhythm.  Amazingly, I was still running around an 8 minute / mile pace.  Coach Carl had reminded me, "careful not to start too fast!"  Yet my legs felt really good.  I decided to trust my training, and my warmup, and my strides, and I maintained the same pace.  Mile 1 elapsed in 7:57, a little faster than I had planned.  I might just have three more of those miles in me today, I thought. 

I took these photos a week ago, when I was checking out the race route.
Axles were a landmark at 0.4 miles.
Below is the view one mile into my route. 

Before I knew it, I was at the single intersection on this route.  This was the 1.4 mile mark.  But instead of 14 minutes on an easy run pace, I was looking at just past 11 minutes elapsed on my watch!   

Now I ran downhill past the Children's Playground, then uphill again, still running strongly.  In this section, I had to move to the left side of the roadway (reserved for auto traffic) to maintain sufficient distance from walkers.  At this time of the morning, I had seen only a few cars.  Running in the westward direction, I was facing traffic, so I had plenty of warning whenever I needed to move back into the pedestrian lane.  My main concern was to stay out of the bicycle lane, especially while running downhill, as the cyclists can pick up some significant speed on the Stone Mountain hills.  

Grateful for downhill running!
And grateful for great friends, and my lovely wife.
Can't forget the real meaning of life! 

After passing the Children's Playground, I began climbing a long hill that tops out near the parking lot for the walk-up trail to the top of Stone Mountain.  Fortunately I knew from my route planning that I would only run up the first 10 - 20% of that hill.  I was looking for the landmark for the turnaround, a remote parking lot off to the left.  And there it was, appearing simultaneous with hearing the 2-mile alert.  And at 16:02 elapsed!  

Meanwhile, Beverly snapped a photo of Brian mid-race.

We were judging distance by Strava, not by a measured race distance, so there was no point to running tangents.  I had weaved a bit from the sidewalk on the right to the roadway on the left to maintain sufficient distance from others on the road.  So I ran a few extra steps, just in case I found a more direct route to the finish line.  

Halfway done!!

Turning around, I immediately had to run back uphill, but it didn't take too long before I was heading downhill again.   I've run the Stone Mountain loop in the counterclockwise direction many more times than the opposite, so the landmarks were more familiar from several years of running memories.  At the intersection, just 1.4 miles to go!  

But now, the exertion of the first 2.6 miles was beginning to take its toll.  I was still running well, running fast, but was nearing exhaustion.  I checked my pulse rate and I was already red-lined, 180 beats per minute!  Brian had made a joke before we began, asking Bonnie "Do you know CPR?" and that came to mind.  But then I was running downhill again.  I tried to relax a little, let my pulse come down into the 170s (still pretty high), and heard the mile 3 alert, 24:08 elapsed.  

Above: the view at mile 3
Below: a left turn, that in the past has deceived me that the roundabout is near.
Today I knew that I still had 0.7 miles to run. 

Just one mile to go!  A 33-minute finish was almost assured.  I had no idea how Brian was doing with his run, but at this point, I was now thinking about what a great position I had put myself into for a personal record, if I just kept pushing.  I had just run 7:57, 8:05, 8:06.  An 8:45 would match my personal record!  Although I was hurting, I just told myself, c'mon Frank, you can do anything for 1 mile!  

Heading uphill, I was maintaining an 8:45 pace at first.  Then I cleared the hill, made the left turn pictured above, and headed downhill, picking up some speed.  Passing the axles again, 0.4 mile to go, my pace for the last mile was now 8:30 / mile.  Putting aside the temptation to take a short walk break, I began looking for my last landmark.   

These signs are relatively new, probably within the past year.
From here, I had just 0.3 miles to go!  

I went into the motion of running a stride, but didn't turn up the speed to the second or third level, as I needed to maintain for just 2 or at most 3 more minutes.  A woman coming the other way cheered me on: "You're close to the finish line!"  I realized that she must have seen Bonnie's finish line, already in place for me.  That was good, because I was going to arrive about 2 minutes earlier than I had told Bonnie to expect me!  One last left turn, and then a straightaway to the finish.  

I could see Bonnie in the distance, wearing her own yellow Tucker Running Club shirt, next to the finish line that she had strung up between two plastic poles marking the bicycle lane.  I heard my watch signal 4 miles!  I took a quick look but only saw 8:15, my time for mile 4, but knew that my time elapsed would begin with the number 32!  One last push through the finish line for the cameras, for the glory, hearing Bonnie's cheers!!

I gasped to Bonnie, "Oh my, that was hard!"  It took me a few minutes to regain my breath, but I was thrilled to see 32:43 elapsed for 4.04 miles.  After I checked Strava, and my mental function had returned to manage the simple addition, I realized that I had just smashed my old personal record, with a 32:21 finish!  Win or lose, I was going to be very, very happy with this outcome.  

The second of three deer to cross the road shortly after I finished.

And now to wait to hear from Brian!  I went for a short warmup jog with my phone in hand, and then he called - his result was 37:02 minutes for 4.02 miles, or 36:53 at the 4.00 mile mark, according to Strava.  

So I snatched the victory today!  And I was really happy that my training showed today. Add one more to the table: 

April 25, 2020:       Mano-a-Mano 4-Miler          Frank 32:21         Brian 36:53

We had a fun time afterwards, reliving our races.  Here's our Strava results for comparison: 

Although I ran really fast (for me) today, you can see that I slowed down with every mile, so that's something for me to work on going forward.  It looks like Brian started conservatively, but had trouble with the hill on the return trip in mile 3, and couldn't make up enough on the downhill for mile 4.  

There WILL be a rematch!  I'm pushing for a head-to-head 10K competition for the Peachtree Road Race, but have also agreed to another 4-mile mano-a-mano on August 1, when the Decatur DeKalb 4-miler is scheduled.  

April 4, 2020: Night Owl 5K - virtual edition

I had a lot of fun running my first virtual race two weeks ago.  I decided to do it again for the AWARE Night Owl 5K.  This race was scheduled at Panola State Park, at 6 pm in the evening.  Nathan Gaffney, one of the trainees in Coach Carl's Tuesday night track workouts, had advertised the race a month ago, and I had put it down on my calendar. 

Then the COVID-19 pandemic swept the world.  In my work, I've quickly adapted my courses to remote learning, and I've grown more comfortable with the technology.  I've maintained Friday afternoon group meetings with my laboratory, and weekly one-on-one meetings on the phone with each member following the same schedule that we had established earlier in the semester.   

Bonnie and I, and all members of our family appear to be fine.  Everyone in my research group is currently healthy.  Hopefully Emory and metro Atlanta shut down in time to minimize the number of new infections, but only time will tell.  Having passed the two-week mark since I last went to work, I feel that I've made it, now I just need to continue to stay safe.  

The world hasn't seen a pandemic like this since the 1918 influenza epidemic, which all four of my grandparents survived.  More than a million people have been diagnosed to date, and over 60,000 people have already died from COVID-19.  

https://www.worldometers.info/coronavirus/

And then there are thousands of others who have taken ill with milder cases of COVID-19 - mild in that they weren't hospitalized.  Many of them weren't tested, so they don't show up in the official statistics.  I work with two people in my department who are recovering from likely cases of COVID-19.  The symptoms matched, it was a pretty bad experience, and different from influenza, but the severity of their illnesses wasn't at the level that landed them in the hospital.  They weren't tested.
  

For running, I'll continue with virtual races for causes and events that I want to support, until it's safe to run races again, whenever that may be.  I registered for the Night Owl 5K a couple of weeks ago, knowing that it would only be a virtual race for me.  Before I registered, I was excited to learn that the AWARE Wildlife foundation had established a formal program for the virtual race.  A few days ago, the organization posted a YouTube video.  I encourage you to watch, all the way to the end!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0qyIjaP-vuE  

I decided to run the same route that I had run at Lucky Shoals Park a couple of weeks ago, except counterclockwise, which I consider is the tougher direction.  Bonnie and I showed about around 5:30 pm, filmed a finish line photo - since I didn't know exactly where my 5K finish line would be once I began running - and then did an easy warmup lap, thinking over my race plan.  

Toeing the line

Ready to start

At 5:55 pm, I walked up and down the parking lot to ensure that I was relaxed and ready to go.  At 5:59 pm, I toed a line at a stop sign, activated my watch to find a celltower signal, and counted to 60.  Assuming that it was now officially 6:00 pm, I said "Ready --- set --- go!"  Clicked the watch button and took off - much too fast, but slowed to a reasonable pace as soon as I was on the asphalt path.  

First step

Onto the trail just ahead of a walker

The first kilometer was mostly uphill for the first four minutes.  There was a set of switchbacks on the way up, then it leveled out briefly.  The elevation chart showed a little dip, but it wasn't apparent in this direction, then a hundred meters or so uphill to the highest elevation of the park.  4:10 elapsed.  The path leveled out again, even though the elevation chart showed that was downhill, it didn't feel much like it.  First kilometer finished in 5:41, 45 feet elevation gain, 26 loss.  Felt like 71 feet up, 0 down.   

But the second kilometer began with a nice long downhill.  In fact I was very careful to make sure that I bent my knees running downhill, to take advantage of the favorable slope without injuring myself.  I definitely picked up the pace below 5 minutes per kilometer (sub 8 minute per mile) past the bottom.  After a bit of level running, the hills began again, but I knew that meant that I was close to the end of the first loop.  Oh, there was another hill.  Then, the parking lot, followed by another hill.  Now I had completed the first loop!  Strava indicated that I set a personal record on the 1.08 mile loop in 9:39, out of 23 efforts since joining Strava late in 2016.  

I was doing well to this stage, but hoping to pick up the pace a tad on the second loop. The second kilometer sounded, 5:30, 11:11 elapsed, 22 feet elevation gain, 37 feet loss.  That felt about right.  Then it was time for the switchbacks again.  Up, up, up, at times winding around a few walkers on the trail.  There were probably no more than a dozen people total on the 1.08 mile loop, but I passed them multiple times, trying to maintain a safe 6-foot distance, or more, making sure that I turned my head away from people, not to breathe on them.  My legs were beginning to burn.  Maybe I should have taken more time after my warm-up run before beginning the race.  When I reached the top of the course, I glanced at my watch, 14:00 elapsed exactly.  That means that the loop from top-to-top was 9:50, pretty good!  But my pace per kilometer for the third kilometer was slower than 6 minute / kilometer.  I wanted to drive down that number into the 5's.  Leveling out (or actually downhill), and then heading down the real hill, I picked up more speed, finishing the third kilometer at the lowest point of the course in 5:47, 17 minutes total, 42 feet elevation gain, 59 feet loss.

Going uphill at the beginning of the fourth kilometer.
Thanks Bonnie for the photos! 

Only two kilometers to go, but ... I was getting thirsty.  It was warm, in the mid-70's.  I was doing OK with the rolling hills heading to the starting area near the entrance to the park, but it was a struggle to maintain the pace under 6 minute / kilometer.  Near the entrance, I drew close to a couple walking together, and another walker was coming the other way.  If I didn't stop, there would be four abreast on an 8-foot wide path.  I slowed to a walk, until the walker coming the other way had passed me, and then picked up the pace again taking a wide turn past the couple.  Actually I think that the momentary break, even just 5 seconds, may have helped my heart rate.  When I checked Strava afterwards, that lap was my third fastest, surpassed by four seconds in a one-lap race prep two evening ago.  Back to running, beginning the third and final lap.  This was going to be uphill the rest of the way for the fourth kilometer.  Running up the switchback this time was really tough.  I wanted to take a walk break so badly.  But I found the mental strength to keep running, even though I knew that I wasn't going too fast.  6:12, 23:10 total elapsed, 50 feet elevation gain, only 5 feet loss.  Given the elevation profile, that was pretty good. 

Could I finish in less than 29 minutes?  I still needed to go up one more hill to reach the highest point of the course, and pushed myself as hard as I could.  Actually it sort of felt good!  Turning the corner at the top of the hill, I saw 24:15 on the watch, 10:15 for the second loop from top-to-top, and my pace so far in that segment was just below 6 minutes per kilometer.  Now to cruise downhill to the finish.  I passed Bonnie coming the other way, said "one more klick" as I passed, and picked up the pace for a moment.  But even though the path was level, or slightly downhill, I lost concentration for a moment, and ended up slowing down.  Then the long downhill appeared, here was my chance to gain back some time, and started running faster again.  All the way downhill, to the bottom of the course.  27 minutes and change, how close am I to the 5K mark?  Run, run, run, 28 minutes elapsed, I switched the readout on my watch to show total distance, hoping to see 4.99 kilometers.  No, only 4.91 kilometers.  And up ahead there was a hill.  Not a big hill, but not easy either.  I kept pushing myself, 4.97 kilometers, run, run, run, and mercifully, the 5 kilometer alert sounded, 28:42 elapsed!  I kept running another 10 seconds before stopping my watch.  

Phew, I was totally gassed.  But on a warm evening, I had run only 9 seconds slower than I did two weeks ago when the temperature was 15 degrees cooler at 8 am.  And tonight, I ran in the direction that certainly feels tougher!  I'll call that a win. 

We created a faux finish line before I began the virtual race.
I've never broken the tape, before this evening! 

I'm fortunate to have a beautiful park to run, within walking distance of my home.
During a sunrise run last summer, I saw a deer at this place on the trail.
And the regular hill training has undoubtably helped my running! 

March 21, 2020: Dental Dash at Dawn 5K - Virtual Edition

The COVID-19 pandemic has changed the entire world in a dramatic way, in a very short amount of time.  In the past two weeks, Emory University has gone from normal operations to a shutdown of virtually all campus activities, excepting the hospital and associated health care facilities.  I'm getting a crash course in teaching on-line, working hard to prepare and practice in advance of my first synchronous on-line class meeting next Tuesday, March 24.  

My employment is secure, for which I'm extraordinarily grateful.  I have a room at home where I can work without much distraction when I'm teaching a class or participating in an interactive meeting on-line.  In contrast, many friends and some of my younger colleagues are trying to do the same, while simultaneously overseeing their children's homeschooling.  

For many other people, there is no safe option but to completely shut down and lose the income on which they rely.  And then there are the healthcare workers who are working overtime, putting their own lives at risk to provide care to the people who have contracted this new and very serious illness.    

As the crisis has unfolded within the United States, every race has been cancelled.  From what I see on FaceBook, and sharing my own thoughts with absorbing this news, runners have quickly progressed through the five stages: denial - anger - bargaining - depression - and many, including me, are reaching the stage of acceptance.  On March 11, I received an e-mail from DDD Foundation (Dentistry for the Developmentally Disabled), announcing that they decided to cancel their annual Dental Dash at Dawn 5K event, scheduled for today, March 21.  Their letter was very nice, even offering a refund upon request, or alternatively converting the registration fee into a fully tax-deductible donation.  

I ran this race in 2014, and even won an age group award!
http://run50plus.blogspot.com/2014/03/march-8-2014-dental-dash-at-dawn-5k.html

Remarkably, walking and running outdoors are among some of the safer activities available to people that are healthy and asymptomatic.  Viruses do not survive as long on surfaces that are bombarded with sunlight.  Moreover, viruses require an animal host to survive and to replicate.  It is safer to exercise outdoors if we're not touching common pieces of equipment, unlike what we encounter in an indoor gym.  It's primarily a matter of finding a location where it's not too crowded, where we can maintain the recommended minimum 6-foot distance from others.  But it's also really important not to take any chances with falls or over-exertion or collisions with automobiles (not that there is much traffic), or heatstroke as it gets warmer.  No one wants to add to the current stresses on the health care system. 

With those thoughts in mind, I decided yesterday that I would run the 5K as a virtual race, at Lucky Shoals Park, a Gwinnett County park within a few blocks of my home.  Lucky Shoals Park has a 1.1 mile asphalt loop, on a very hilly route.  When I first met Bonnie, we walked a lap of the trail together back in 2009, and I remember how difficult it was.  After we joined Weight Watchers in 2013, I completed my first Couch-to-5K workout with a lap on this trail.  After 20+ years of sedentary lifestyle, it was really difficult to run those first 60 second intervals seven years ago.  But it didn't take too long before I was able to run a continuous lap.  And then two consecutive laps, and then three laps, and ... today I'm a proud finisher of six marathons.  
  

Our precinct voting center, at the Lucky Shoals gym.
I voted early in the presidential primary on March 9.
The election has since been suspended from March 24 to May 19,
when it will be combined with the general primary elections. 

I've undoubtably run more than a thousand laps at Lucky Shoals Park over the past 7 years.  One day when I don't have anything better to do, I might try to add them up.  But I knew exactly what route I would create.  There is one road that crosses the trail, at the north entrance to the park, so a 5K (3.11 mile) route on a 1.1 mile trail needs to cross the road only twice.  I also decided to run in the clockwise direction, because the uphill section is longer but not quite as steep as in the counter-clockwise direction.  

The only road crossing the race route.
See all the people that aren't gathering at the start line, in the distance? 

When I awoke on race day, it was drizzling.  Not ideal, but if there had been a race, we would have run under those conditions.  Fortunately the drizzle stopped by the time I had finished my usual pre-race breakfast of oatmeal, blueberries, and a cup of cappucino.  I set my watch to metric units, so that I would get an alert every 1 kilometer, and most importantly at the 5 kilometer point marking my race finish.  Thoroughly washing my hands before I left the house, I warmed up with an easy jog to the "somewhat secret south entrance" into the park, and through the park to the road at the north entrance.  Arriving about 5 minutes before the 8:00 am start time, I loosened up with some butt kicks, and a few strides.  I'm glad that I did those strides: the damp asphalt felt a little slippery when running fast.  I immediately decided that I wasn't going for a speed workout.  I couldn't afford to fall, but would simply enjoy the experience.  

Above: Standing near the start line
Below: My competitors lining up behind me

7:59 am: I toed the starting line, took one last photo, and put the phone away.  Activated the watch, acquired signal, and quietly said out loud, "Go!"  

Ready, set, go!

And just like in too many other races, I started out a little too fast.  Fortunately I quickly reined in my pace, aiming to run between 5 and 6 minutes per kilometer.  The first lap was gently rolling hills at first, not too difficult to run.  I had the first part of the path to myself at the beginning, although I had seen a couple walking elsewhere on the path during my warmup.  About 2-1/2 minutes in, I approached the start of the big hill dominating the south half of the park. Careful, I told myself, I have to do this three times today.  But because I was familiar with the hill, I ran it pretty well.  The hill overlooks a couple of soccer fields.  This morning no one was playing, although that might have been the case at 8 am on any given Saturday.  This is a hill that progresses for 20 feet, then seems to level off ever so briefly, then gradually continues to rise all the way to the extreme south end of the park, with about 60 feet net elevation.  Near the top, I passed the couple on a walk that I had seen earlier.  I tried to stay as far to the other side of the path from them.  I also turned my head away from them as I passed, to avoid exhaling on them (especially if I was infected and did not yet know it) as well as avoiding breathing in their vapor.  I was already winded by the time that I had reached the top, about 5 minutes elapsed.      

Race route, in kilometers

Now for a gentle downhill.  Before I had gone too far, the 1 kilometer alert sounded, at 5:34 elapsed.  Whew, that first kilometer was all uphill, I thought.  I was able to relax a little for about 90 seconds, before getting into a winding part of the trail.  According to Garmin, this switchback drops only about 20 feet in elevation (it seems like a lot more), and I slowed down to be safe.  After the switchback, I came upon another couple running in the opposite direction, the woman wearing an Atlanta Track Club cap.   I gave a small wave and a smile as I kept going, winding around the empty basketball court, then back into the forest.  Crossing the road (no traffic), I soon reached the line marking the first lap, finished in about 9:30 elapsed.  The remainder of kilometer 2 was the gently rolling hills.  In this section, I passed a walker, a younger man, who asked me "How many laps are you running?"  I replied, "Three."  "Nice!" he said.  I thought to myself, three laps is a pretty short workout for me these days.  How far I've come!  The alert sounded for kilometer 2, 5:22.  That was mostly downhill!  10:56 elapsed.    

The basketball court is painted in Atlanta Hawks colors.
Hopefully the courts will remain empty until this crisis is over.
Passing a ball from hand to hand sounds like a very bad idea right now. 

Now it was time to climb the hill for a second time.  I tried to maintain a fast pace at first.  Then I thought of the words and heard in my mind the tune to the Billy Joel song, "Movin' Out" (1977):

"But working too hard can give you a heart attack-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack

You ought to know by now."

I backed off with my effort.  Just get in a good run, that was the goal for today.  Continuing up the hill to the south end of the park, then going back down, and kilometer 3 alert sounded in the midst of the switchback.  5:56, 16:52 elapsed, although I didn't notice at the time, I was just focused on running.  

In the fourth kilometer, I crossed the entrance road again, and passed the line marking the second lap, although I didn't think to check my watch at that moment.  Garmin indicated it was around 19:35 elapsed, so unfortunately my second lap was about 35 minutes slower than the first.  It wasn't gonna be a negative split day .... Just then a new pedestrian walking a couple of dogs was about to join the path.  He let me pass before I got onto the path.  I'm glad that I started at 8 am and not any later. 

Somewhere in the early part of the uphill section, the kilometer 4 alert sounded: 5:47, 22:39 elapsed.  I was heartened to think, only 5 or maybe 6 minutes more to the finish line.  Get up this hill one last time, and then it's net downhill to the end.  At the same time, I let my pace drop off going uphill, more than I had in the first or second laps.  When I started going downhill again, and saw on my watch that I had poked along in the first part of the fifth kilometer at a 6:35 min / km pace, I regained some focus, and picked up the pace again, trying to make up some time on the gently downhill section, until I had driven down the pace number below 6 min / km.  Carefully making the turns on the downhill switchback, I saw that about 27 minutes had elapsed.  Not much further!  I picked up a little speed, imagining some other competitors hot on my tail, you're not gonna pass me if I can help it!  Run, run, run, and then the kilometer 5 alert sounded, 5:54 for the last klick, and 28:33 total elapsed.  I threw my arms up in the air in a small celebration!  

The finish line was close to the crack in the asphalt in this photo.  

I kept running for a few more seconds before I turned off my watch.  Why?  Because every Strava user knows that the program shaves off about 0.01 miles from every run.  

Garmin vs. Strava

Although my official time was relatively slow for me for a 5K, the hilly course may have added a few minutes to what I might have run on a flatter course.  In any case, it was a fun experience to run this virtual race, especially dealing with the mental side of dealing with everything that everyone on the planet is anxious about.  

Look for a few more virtual races to come, hopefully every few weeks, assuming that I remain healthy, and that restrictions on outdoor activities don't become stricter.  Who knows, I might run a 10K on this route to commemorate Independence Day, if we can't run the Peachtree Road Race on July 4.  But six trips up that hill, trying to run fast?  I shudder at the thought ...

This was not an Orange Theory run.

March 1, 2020: The Publix Atlanta Marathon, honoring the memory of Mina Chung

Eddie Lin & Mina Chung

On the way home from our Valentine's Day date, Bonnie and I learned that her beloved cousin, Dr. Mina Chung, had tragically died in a skiing accident while on vacation in the Italian Alps.  Mina was an extraordinary member of the extraordinary family that I've married into.  I first met Mina nearly 10 years ago at our wedding.  A year later we traveled to Tuscany to attend her wedding to Eddie Lin, which was a multi-day tour of Michelin restaurants and an ever-growing party of their friends and family - without a doubt, the most fun wedding that I've ever attended.  

Mina was an eye surgeon and retinal specialist at the University of Rochester Hospital.  In the days after her passing, we read dozens of testimonials from her patients and family members of her patients.  She saved the vision of so many people, from children born blind to adults suffering from retinal degeneration.  In addition to her work as a physician, I fondly remember what a talented pianist she was, treasuring the memory of a duet that she and Eddie performed in honor of her father's 80th birthday.  

Mina was also a runner.  She ran several marathons, including the New York City Marathon in 2006 and 2011.  Her last marathon was the Athens Classic Marathon, on the original route from the town of Marathon to the capital of Greece, which she completed one week after I ran the New York City Marathon in 2018.  One of the last times that I saw Mina was at a family gathering in Washington DC in 2015, and we enjoyed together a few miles early one morning on the National Mall.  

Mina and I, fall 2015.  She is wearing a New York City Marathon jersey. 

We made a quick trip to New York for a private family funeral to honor her memory and pay our respects to her surviving parents, younger brother, and her husband.  It was cathartic to cry with family, and emotionally healing to hear and share stories of Mina's life and many gifts and accomplishments.  We returned to Atlanta last night, just in time for Bonnie to run the Publix Atlanta 5K, and for me to take on my 6th marathon.

My training has gone spectacularly well.  Over the past year, the various strains and inflammations in my legs have largely healed.  Working with Coach Carl for two consecutive training cycles has resulted in greater physical speed so that my easy pace has dropped from 11 minute miles to ca. 10:15 minute miles.  I've also improved my mental discipline, both with maintaining prescribed paces and finding ways to push myself when things get tough.  In this training cycle, I've run my two fastest half-marathons.  I also came within 30 seconds of setting a new personal best for the 5K distance, except that I wasn't trying to run all that fast, just working on a progression strategy while doing nothing that could re-injure me.  

At the start

For race day, I decided to honor Mina by wearing my New York City Marathon jersey from 2018, instead of the Atlanta Track Club or Tucker Running Club gear that I normally wear.  I had intended to start with or just behind the 4:30 pace group.  The only problem was that the 4:30 pacers were in wave C.  I was assigned to wave D, so I was on my own to find my starting pace.  Fortunately Coach Carl had prescribed for my last track workout a "practice start", running the first two miles between 10:00 - 10:15 pace.  That required a lot of mental energy and clock watching, especially with some of the speedsters in the group zipping past me during their own workouts, but I nailed the exercise on the first attempt. 

That really paid off this morning with the start.  Although I had plenty of people in front of me by starting near the back of wave D, my watch gave inaccurate readings in the beginning, due to the tall buildings and thousands of other watches overloading the local cell tower service.  When my watch signaled mile 1 in 9:30, I suspected that I couldn't trust it, since I wasn't passing anyone, yet I was passed by hundreds of people in the first mile.  I didn't see a mile 1 sign, but when mile 2 signaled 10:30 and just over 20 minutes elapsed, and then two minutes later I saw the mile 2 sign, I relaxed knowing that if anything, I had started a little too slowly, but that wasn't really a problem.  After all, my goal for the race was to run consistently from start to finish, aiming for a negative split.  My goal range of 4:20 to 4:30 simply came from calculating what would happen with average pace of 10:00 - 10:15 minute miles.  I crossed the 5K split at 32:55.  

We covered plenty of familiar ground in those first miles, north on Piedmont Road, south on Central Park.  I had no trouble maintaining an easy pace on the gently rolling hills.  I took walk breaks at every water station, spaced out every 1.5 to 2 miles.  As I made the turn from Jackson Street onto Auburn Avenue at the Martin Luther King Center, I passed the 5:00 pace group, and chatted for a moment with Rebecca Ludwig from Tucker Running Club, who was running her first marathon.  At the mile 5 marker, I took my first gel, shortly before reaching a water stop in Little Five Points.  Around the 10K timing mat, I passed Linda Bode Phinney, also with Tucker Running Club.  Two years ago when I foolishly ran the Publix Atlanta Marathon with an untreated quadriceps injury, Linda had reported to Bonnie, who was waiting anxiously at the finish line, that I was still upright but mostly only walking when she had passed me around mile 21.  Today I crossed the 10K split at 1:04:51, satisfied to have sped up by about 20 seconds per mile over the last 5K.  

Official course map

This mile was a little crowded, as both half-marathon and full-marathon runners were squeezed onto a single lane of Freedom Parkway, but we regained more road space before reaching the mile 7 marker on North Avenue.  After carefully working our way uphill on North Avenue, we turned onto Highland Avenue heading north, where I began clocking my first sub-10 minute miles, heading mostly downhill.  I deployed my first mantra, PATIENCE.  I knew that I couldn't run 9:45 miles for the remainder of the race.  And the PATIENCE mantra helped me drop back down to a couple of low 10 minute miles through Piedmont Park, then heading uphill on 10th Street and south on Juniper Street.  I had taken my second gel at the mile 9 marker near the Park Avenue pedestrian entrance to the park, and washed it down with water before leaving the park at the Charles Allen gate.  I began overhearing some complaints about the hills from a few of the runners around me, but I just kept a steady beat.  We ran through the Georgia Tech campus for mile 12, then turned onto Marietta Street to return to the start-finish area.  I was deliberately holding back, expecting that more half-marathon runners would pick up their pace as their finish line approached, but I think that I passed more people than passed me, even though I ran mile 13 in 10:02 minutes.  Shortly before reaching the mile 13 marker, I saw Bonnie, who had completed her 5K race in less than 58 minutes, her best time in a couple of years.  She looked good and she seemed very happy to hear me call out that I was "on schedule". 

I crossed the half-marathon timing mat at 2:13:36, perfectly within my goal range of 2:11 to 2:15 for the first half of the race.  Even though my warmup was over, I held back from speeding up.  I took my third gel, then water from a station between the Georgia World Congress Center and Mercedes Benz Stadium.  Circling the stadium, I was looking up at the structure and daydreaming about how well I had run the first 14 miles, when...

Atlanta, the Land of a Thousand Potholes.  

My left foot landed in the middle of a big round hole in the street.  I stumbled out of the runner's lane, barely managing to stay on my feet.  My left ankle seemed to pop.  I slowed to a walk.  The runners around me asked if I was OK.  All of this training ruined by a misstep in a pothole?  But as quickly as the sharp pain had struck, it began to subside.  I tried to run a few steps, that went alright.  I ran a little faster, so far so good.  I responded to the other runners, "I'm OK but I wonder how this will feel in 10 more miles." But I managed to get back up to speed.  Fortunate to have escaped disaster, I kept my eyes closely peeled to the road ahead of me for the rest of the run.  

After the mile 15 marker, we turned onto James Brawley Drive, which is now a long pedestrian walkway through Clark Atlanta University.  It was a nice section of the race route, but I had mistakenly remembered this section from training runs as being relatively flat.  I was wrong.  Badly wrong.  Apologies to any readers who overhead me claim at the expo that mile 16 was flat.  Fortunately there was a water station and lots of enthusiastic volunteers.  

Remarkably, my left ankle didn't hurt.  I should say, everything was just a little bit sore, but I was also running sub 10 minute miles, from 9:47 - 9:59.  I tried to remember one of Coach Carl's "Ten Commandments of Marathon Running," to take it easy in miles 14 - 19.  PATIENCE, I repeated to myself.  That helped keep me from going any faster. At mile 17, I took a fourth gel, running along the familiar roads of Castleberry Hill from the Run the ATL races.  I was passing a fair number of people, even with my relatively conservative pace, but I thought that I could maintain this for another 9 miles.  I began to say to another runner, "We're two-thirds done."  Then I remembered the classic marathon advice, the 20-mile mark is the halfway point.  And I kept my thoughts to myself.  

Around this time, a couple of young women running together passed me.  They were running pretty easily, maintaining a good conversation.  I tried to keep up with them, especially when they seemed to slow down a bit.  Then someone would cheer, they would "whoop!" in response, and the "whoop!" seemed to propel them forward.  I should try that, I thought.  But I didn't have the energy to generate a "whoop!"  Eventually they would slow down, I would catch up, then another "whoop!" and they took off again.  That must have continued for several miles, as we ran past the old Olympic Stadium, now Georgia State University Stadium, the site of my greatest half-marathon performance.  "Whoop!" I thought to myself, and picked up a little speed, although perhaps not as much if I could have verbalized it.  I took a fifth gel, but had to wash it down with a couple of swigs of my own bottle of Nuun, as there wasn't a water station nearby.

As we passed the stadium, we approached a big hill on Hank Aaron Drive.  I've known about this challenge since the first time I ran the second half of the course back in December.  Today I was ready for it.  I glided up the hill, passing a bunch of walkers.  I remained calm, kept running easily to the top of the hill, until turning onto Atlanta Avenue.  With the turn, a level street, the mile 20 sign and a timing mat greeted me.  3:22:38 elapsed, with just 10K to go.  "Whoop!"  Actually I just said, "10K to go!!" and started thinking about a 60 minute 10K run.  I was definitely going to smash my old personal best of 4:48, and was on track to finish in less than 4:30, as long as I kept running.  I had not intended to pick up the pace this early.  But following the classic marathon advice, I was halfway done.  And I was ready to speed up.  I covered mile 21 in 9:18.  That was probably too fast.  And in mile 22, I had to slow back down to 9:46.  Still, I was pretty happy with that.  Every mile that was a sub 10-minute mile was more progress toward a negative split marathon.  

On the Cheney track, Bob Wells was cheering us on.  Thanks Bob, that really helped at the same time that I saw the mile 22 marker.  I finally spotted the 4:30 pacers on the street, less than 100 yards ahead of me.  I had been trying to catch up to them for more than 3-1/2 hours.  I also caught up with the two women on the track, and kept up with them until we got back onto Georgia Street.  Someone cheered again, they went "Whoop!" and moved in front of me for good.  Nonetheless I was still running at a sub-10 minute pace.  Just four miles to go!  

There was one more hill that I had dreaded from my practice runs, heading up to Founders' Park.  But today, it looked like we were running a slightly different route from the map.  Although we were going uphill, the elevation was not nearly as severe as it would have been if we had turned one block earlier.  Thank you, Atlanta Track Club!  I made my way easily up the hill, turned left after passing Founders' Park, and then returned downhill.  Mile 23 in 9:56.  Just over 5K to go, at 3:51 elapsed.  

But now we were heading uphill on Hank Aaron Drive.  It was a tough haul.  I took my last gel shortly before the water station.  I don't recall running under the Olympic Rings, although they must have been near the water station.  I guess I was too busy looking down for more potholes.  I just kept running once I had cleared the water station, and eventually the road leveled out.  We crossed Interstate 20, turned right onto Martin Luther King Drive, heading due east.  A lot of people were walking.  I kept running, knocking out a 10:02 minute mile 24.  My legs were really hurting, but remembered all of the advice that I had read and heard that the last 10K was going to hurt.  It was supposed to hurt.  And I knew that I would be disappointed with myself after the race if I didn't keep pushing now.  4:02 total elapsed at the mile 24 sign.  

I came upon the last water and nutrition station.  They were serving raisins.  I accepted a big cup of raisins, tried to eat them down as I walked through the stop, then took a cup of water.  Raisins, water, raisins, water.  I wasn't able to eat all of the raisins before reaching one of the last garbage boxes.  And it was time to run again.  Less than two miles to go.  Less than 20 minutes to glory and a huge PR.  At Oakland Cemetery, we took a left turn, then another left followed by a quick right onto Grant Street.  As we passed under the MARTA tracks, there was a timing mat, after my watch had sounded for mile 25 in 10:09. Turns out it was the 40K timing mat, 4:10:11 elapsed. 

Left turn onto Decatur Street, less than 1-1/2 miles to the finish.  HAMMER TIME, I thought.  But I could not speed up.  The thoughts crept into my mind: 

"I'm never running another marathon.  

I'm glad that I didn't get into the New York City Marathon."  

Nonetheless I began to gain a little satisfaction from passing several people that were walking.  Uphill I continued to run.  I tried to speed up, just keeping the number on my watch below 10 minute / mile pace.  "Never %$#&ing quit" I said to myself.  Passed another walker, and then another.  No one was passing me.  

"Never %$#&ing quit."  This time out loud. 

I'm just coming into the picture.

That mantra restrained me from taking an extra walk break.  I passed the Walgreen's with the old sign marking the Five Points intersection with Peachtree Street, where the street name changed from Decatur to Marietta.  And up ahead, the CNN building and the Omni Hotel rose into the air.  They were SO FAR AWAY.  And then they were A LITTLE CLOSER.  Finally the road leveled out, and then a slight downhill.  This is where I wanted to speed up, but I couldn't.  Not at first.  I caught up with another runner, said out loud "Two more blocks."  He kept up with me, that was fine, I just needed to keep moving.  One more block, as we crossed Centennial Olympic Park Drive.  And somehow, I sped up.  Then a right turn into the park.  People were lining both sides of the walkway.  Tes Sobomehin was cheering me into the finish, probably a bunch of other people that I knew that I couldn't see through my blurry vision.  I moved ahead of the man that I had encouraged on Marietta Street.  I found some speed that I didn't know that I had.  Another man in an orange shirt was moving slowly.  I couldn't wait to get to the finish line, and passed him as well.  

And then I had crossed the finish line!  I didn't see the clock, I didn't know my time, but I knew that I had definitely run a huge new personal record!  Several big fist pumps as I slowed to a walk.  Then I straightened up, and with my arms, spelled out the letters of Mina's name in a silent tribute.  

M      I      N     A
(Too bad my arms weren't more flexible.)

Official time, 4:24:07, 10:04 min / mile average pace.  That was really tough.  But I did it, with a 3 minute negative split, and a 24 minute improvement on my previous 4:48 marathon best.  It took every bit of training, every minute of mental preparation, and every last scrap of grit to get this result. 

I'm really proud of this race, starting slowly and gradually and continuously picking up speed over 25 miles,
then maintaining through the finish line. 

What's next?  For now, no big decisions.  But Brian Minor and I have a mano a mano competition planned for the Singleton 4 Miler in April.  Stay tuned!