May 12, 2018: The Tucker Road Race (5K)

Although I've lived in suburban Tucker for 8 years and have run with the Tucker Running Club for at least 3 years, I've never run the Tucker Road Race.  This is held in May in conjunction with Tucker Day, celebrating the people and identity of our small town.  (I actually don't live in the city of Tucker but have a Tucker mailing address, for whatever that's worth.)   I was amazed to learn when I picked up the bib and shirt that the race is in its 61st edition, meaning that it's been run since the 1950's, possibly making it the oldest running race in metro Atlanta.  Anyway it will be interesting to learn more about the history of this race, if any readers wish to share that information in the comments.

Physical therapy continues to go well, however I've discovered that I can't just do a few stretches and go off on a run without suffering.  So to prepare for the race, in addition to doing the full range of physical therapy exercises before going to bed last night, I also woke early enough to repeat them this morning before leaving the house.  That worked well: when I arrived at Tucker High School around 7:30 am, an hour before the race, I jogged a bit in the parking lot.  Everything felt good, as if there had never been an injury!  

Tucker Running Club en masse!
We had three age group winners from this group!
(Spoiler alert: not me!)

After the traditional Tucker Running Club photo, I was approached by one of the organizers, looking for an adult to pace the 1-mile fun run, that was to begin at 8 am.  I felt like I could hardly decline on account of concern about an injury, but did emphasize that I might not be able to keep up with the fastest children.  The organizer wasn't worried about that, was simply relieved to have me agreeing to it!  So at 8 am, a group of children stepped up to the starting line, and with the announcer counting down, took off, following a police motorcycle to guide the route!  Five children were ahead of me, so it wasn't exactly like I was the pacer in a professional race.  I took a quick look at my watch after a moment and we were running a 7:45 min / mile pace.  But the children began to slow down before we had left the parking lot, and by the time we were in the neighborhood, I was running with two children, a boy about 30 feet in front while I ran alongside a girl, just encouraging both children as best I could.  Eventually they both slowed to walking and I nearly caught up to the boy in front, but when he saw me coming, he took off at a quick dash, then would walk again, then dash ahead of me.  Finally I think I convinced him that I wasn't racing him, just pacing and encouraging, but I had to get ahead of him and then turn around and say "You're in the lead! You're doing great!" and he resumed running.  The turnaround point was clearly marked and a police car was blocking the end of the street, so I dashed ahead to the pylon and then encouraged each child as they approached the pylon and made the turn, "You're halfway done!  Now head back to the school!"  I waited at the pylon until it appeared that the last child had passed.  It turns out that the last two children were brothers with their father accompanying them.  So I walked-ran with them the rest of the way back.  At the top of the hill, I told the next-to-last boy to start looking for the finish line and then try to sprint to the finish, and he did, followed by the last child with his father.  I peeled off before reaching the finish line, applauding the childrens' efforts. 

The Tucker High School band formed an "honor guard" as we began.
See the tall man in the yellow shirt?  He won the race.
What was I thinking starting this close to him?  

Then it was nearly time for the 5K to begin.  By the way, my legs still felt fine, so I hadn't lost anything in the unexpected warmup with the children.  Following a group round of dynamic stretches, a couple dozen members of the Tucker High School band lined up on other side of the start, first with drums, and then with the other instruments joining in.  I warned the runners around me to watch out for the trombones, as we were on the edge of the group - I didn't want to bend a student's slide if s/he was playing a low note as we started!  The announcer counted down from 10, and then we crossed the line (no chip timing).  I kept up with a large group through the parking lot, not trying to be competitive, just running with the group, onto Chamblee-Tucker Road.  When I checked my watch, about 1/2 mile in, I was surprised to see 7:35 min / mile pace.  I dialed back my effort a bit, and a stream of other runners began to pass me.  Around 8/10 of a mile into the race, we turned into the residential neighborhood on Smithsonia Drive. 

I rarely drive through this area unless forced to do so by road construction.  I've generally avoided running in here, because of the hills!  We headed downhill as the first mile alert sounded at 7:50, surprise! and without much pain in the quadriceps, YAY!!.  I resolved to stay under an 8 min / mile pace.  But then we headed uphill and that resolution was soundly crushed.  I did run all the way up the hill, and didn't fall behind the group of people in front of me.  Did I say that I wasn't going to be competitive?!  HAH, I just passed the guy that was walking.  But after climbing uphill, I was relieved to see a water station at the end of the street, where it turns left to become Goodfellows Road.  I pulled over to the far right, adding at least 50 feet to my route! But I was grateful to slake my thirst, as the morning was warm.  Getting back to some speed, the short run on Goodfellows Road and the right turn onto Spring Glen were fairly level.  Then we turned onto Old Norcross Road.  I drive on Old Norcross Road almost every day, but never ever run on it because it's narrow and there are absolutely no sidewalks.  (I hope that City of Tucker can do something about that!)   I also knew that we were running gently uphill, because I have coasted in my hybrid vehicle on 100% electric going in the other direction.  I once recorded 80 mpg for the short trip home from Kroger (intersection of Lawrenceville Highway and Lavista Road), proud to do my part to save the planet!  

I almost forgot, I'm writing about a race.  Several other runners passed me on Old Norcross Road.  Yes, it was uphill.  My watch showed a 9 min / mile pace, so I sped up as much as I could, reaching the 2 mile alert at 16:43 elapsed, knocking down my time for mile 2 below 9 min / mile, 8:53 according to the almighty Garmin.  This revealed some of the lost conditioning from the 5-week running hiatus after the marathon.  Or maybe it was the 10 extra pounds that I was hauling uphilll.  Note to self: time for Weight Watchers again.  We turned onto Pine Lake Road, a short-cut regularly recommended by Google Maps.  But instead of my usual drive toward Lavista Road, we headed to the right and downhill onto Park Drive.  Now I was limping just a bit, but tried to relax and let gravity carry me along without straining my quadriceps.  I was now officially tired, and was very happy to see another water station as I headed downhill.  It was on the left side of the road, which seemed like the wrong side.  Were those slower runners coming the other way?  No, turns out that they were just walking in the neighborhood, and we weren't on any of the earlier streets.

Passing Cofer Lake - or is it a large pond?  Now uphill, uphill, uphill.  The race director had mentioned only one big hill on Smithsonia.  I guess his memory was fuzzy from climbing that first hill, but I (and everyone else I spoke with afterwards) remembered several big hills in today's race.  There was now a big gap ahead of me, and I didn't hear any footsteps close behind me.  Uphill, uphill, uphill, toward a police car partially blocking the runners' lane.  I nearly ran straight past the police car, just happened to take a look down the street to the left, and saw other runners far away in the distance.  I asked the policewoman as I pointed "Left?"  That caught her attention "Oh - yes!"  Wow, I very nearly missed the turn and ran straight to Chamblee-Tucker Road.  That could have added a quarter-mile if I had run straight. 

Now I was on Ball Park Road, passing the marker where the 1-mile fun run had turned around.  1/2-mile to go.  I didn't remember walking uphill on the way back with the children, but it was definitely uphil on this trip.  Up Hill.  And to think that I was encouraging those children to run faster on that same street 45 minutes earlier.  I guess I deserved to suffer on that hill.  I needed 9:30 for mile 3.  Yet just 18 minutes earlier, I was considering the possibility of a 25 minute 5K.  Oh well, looking on the bright side, my current problem was from diminished conditioning, and not the more serious problem of severe discomfort in the legs.  Ball Park Road made a right turn, still going UPHILL!  As I turned left and UPHILL into the parking lot, I stole a quick look back across my left shoulder to see if anyone was close behind me.  Was that someone 100 feet back?  I didn't look carefully enough, but thinking of Mary Keitany passed in the last 0.2 mile of the London Marathon last month, I tried to speed up a little bit.  Yes, I know, I'm only half as fast as Mary Keitany when she is having a rough day.  I had challenged those poor kids to sprint to the finish from that point, so I was obligated to push myself, to be genuine.  This was the only stage of the race where I felt something more than minimal discomfort in the quadriceps, but the Garmin data confirms that I did speed up a little bit in the last 100 feet or so.  I passed a volunteer who called out my race number, "92!" and then the race announcer called my name "Frank McDonald!" and I gave small thumbs-up with both hands, seeing a few dozen of the faster runners watching the finish.  As I crossed the finish line, I accepted a bottle of water from a small boy, and promptly dropped it onto the pavement.  LOL, I didn't stop the watch until I had recovered the water bottle, but my time was 28:36.  

Although that was a slow run for me based on the past couple of years, today's run was similar to my first 5K time (28:22 official).  Back then, in 2013, I was about the same weight as now, but uninjured.  So as long as I can heal completely this summer, I should be able to regain conditioning.   Although I wished that I had run the first mile more slowly, say 9 minute mile, and then had been more consistent for the rest of the race, I was pleased that I didn't have to take a long walk break due to discomfort.  I'm certain that this morning's physical therapy exercises helped to prepare me for a relatively pain-free run.  I must adjust my pre-run routine to allow for plenty of warmup time until my injury is completely healed.  Or maybe this will just be the new normal as I continue running beyond age 55. 

May 8, 2018: The 1-mile race at the All-Comers' meet

Having returned to running, albeit slowly, I decided to register for the 1-mile race at the All-Comers' meet, sponsored by the Atlanta Track Club.  It was mostly to keep up my streak with the Grand Prix events - and I'll get a T-shirt in December if I complete all 11 events this year!  Also it was nice to catch up with other Atlanta Track Club members, including Carol Gsell from runningnerds and recent Boston Sleetstorm Marathon finisher, Tommy Daniels who I met last fall at the Boston Half Marathon, Colleen Curran from the Spring 2018 marathon training program, Dung and Kathy Nguyen, who are both on impressive multi-year streaks of completing all Grand Prix events, and speedster Kathy Wiegand, who is always in the mix among the fastest women masters runners. 

When I registered a few weeks ago, I entered a projected time of 9:00 minutes.  If I had been healthy, a 7:00 minute finish would have been realistic, but right now, the 9 minute projection was overly optimistic.  On Sunday, Bonnie and I took a walk on the Eastside Beltline, and I decided to try running one mile to see how I might do: the answer was 9:55.  When the schedule of heats was published on the morning of the meet, I was relieved to see that I was in the final men's heat, so there would be no pressure.  My goal was simply to finish 4 laps at an easy, consistent pace, without too much pain. 

Before the 1-mile competition, a small group of elite runners competed in an 800 meter race.  The men went first, with the winner finishing in 1:47, followed by the women, completing two laps in just over 2:00.  

Photo from the back stretch of the second lap:
The men's race was won by a fraction of a second.
Look at that gigantic check!  

The lead women were even as they entered the final straightaway.
But one had a bigger kick than the other in the final 50 meters.
Nonetheless they were both literally flying into the finish! 

While waiting for my assigned heat to begin, I had plenty of time to warm up, with dynamic stretching alternating with easy jogs across the field, including crossing the field to take the photos posted above.  My legs felt OK, so at least I could run this evening.  As we lined up for our heat, I reminded myself: just run easy, run at a comfortable pace, run with good form and without limping, don't look at my watch.  It will be a very good run if I can complete each lap between 2:15 and 2:30.  

Wearing #4, I was lined up near the inside of the field.  The starter called out "Take your mark!"  I started my watch, and with the report of the starter's gun, we began running.  Most of the other runners quickly moved ahead of me.  No problem, I felt comfortable heading around the first curve, taking an easy pace.  At 200 meters I restrained myself from looking at my watch, and just kept running steadily.  On the second straightaway, I caught sight of the clock, well under 2 minutes!  To my immense surprise, I finished the first lap in 1:53.  So much for running conservatively!  Colleen Curran was cheering as I passed, probably surprised, after I had insisted that I would be happy to break 10 minutes, 2:30 per lap. 

On the second lap, I began to pass a few people.  I started to notice my breathing, wondering how much my conditioning might have dropped during the running hiatus, but felt good as long as I maintained a six-step breathing cycle: three steps breathe in, three steps breathe out.  Still passing people, I crossed the lap marker at 3:46 elapsed!  So exciting to maintain a sub-8 minute pace - and there wasn't much pain, as I began the third lap!  

Maybe the two Advils that I popped a couple of hours ago were kicking in!  Or maybe running on the completely flat track didn't put much strain on my injured quadriceps.  Then I saw Dung Nguyen just in front of me.  He had been well ahead shortly after the start.  I was going to hide behind his shoulder, but on the back stretch found myself drawing even with him.  I think Dung was surprised to see me, given my insistence that I was recovering from injury.  I gasped "This is going better than expected!"  Dung said "Go ahead" and while I had just intended to run even with him for the rest of the lap, I think he may have slowed a bit, as I pulled ahead.  5:47 elapsed on the third lap: I heard Colleen cheering again as I passed. 

Now it was HAMMER TIME!  (What injury?)  I accelerated as I began the final lap, almost out of breath, yet confident that I wouldn't bonk in the final 400 meters.  I was lapping a few of the slower runners - remarkable, I had expected to be lapped before we began the heat.  I heard footsteps immediately behind me on the back straightaway and just kept pushing myself, thinking "Try not to let up, or they WILL pass."  As I came off the last curve, I saw 7:15 on the clock.  I could hardly believe it!  On the final straightaway, a young man wearing a black shirt rocketed past me.  No worries, I was so happy that I was running well.  Then Dung passed me, more gradually but definitively.  Dung is just a couple of years younger, so I tried to find a higher gear, but ran out of track.  I wasn't mentally prepared to make a hard push at the end, and I may have been physically incapable of it, but was still delighted to cross the finish line at 7:36.30 (official time).  Unfortunately I accidentally bumped an older fellow at that moment - oh no, that was Phil Limonciello that I bumped as I essentially lapped him at the finish line, so sorry Phil!  He's in the 75-79 age group, although he looks a decade younger, and is still running well.  Fortunately neither of us fell.  

I congratulated the young man and Dung for their strong finishes, then stepped into the infield.  I needed a moment to catch my breath, but I was so happy to have run so well.  When Phil finished a couple of minutes later, I apologized for bumping him.  He was really gracious about it, knowing that it was an accident.  I mentioned to Kathy Nguyen afterwards that I was concerned that my physical therapist might not be happy that I had run that fast, but she said "I think that he would call that a win!"  She was right, the goal of physical therapy is to get people back on track with their normal activities. 

I'm not yet all the way back, but a month ago, I couldn't run at all.  And I'm motivated to keep up with the exercises, as they have really helped!

April 28, 2018: Singleton 4-Miler

I've been injured since running the Southside 12K in mid-February.  I tried to rest and manage it as well as I could leading up to the Georgia Marathon in mid-March, but struggled to finish the second half of the marathon, checking into the medical tent immediately after crossing the finish line.  I even used a cane for the first several days after the marathon, to avoid falling when my left leg would occasionally give way.  I ached quite badly in several areas, but the pain in my left hip really concerned me.  I saw a doctor within a couple of days, who prescribed X-rays on the left hip and femur.  I was relieved to learn that there was no stress fracture or hip damage - so no need for hip replacement surgery!  

With Chip Hewgley, the physical therapist that is getting me back on my feet!

Earlier this month, I began physical therapy at Emory with Chip Hewgley.  Chip had helped rehab my shoulder when I broke my collarbone four years ago, and had also treated a nagging piriformis strain about two years ago.  Chip welcomed me when I walked in for my first appointment, announcing "I'm back!"  His initial diagnosis was an adductor strain, so he prescribed a set of exercises.  These helped for the first two weeks, but then my recovery seemed to stall out.  Knowing that I had likely injured more than one muscle group, Chip watched me limp slowly around the indoor track, then evaluated my leg position.  When I was lying on my stomach with legs hanging off the table, he noticed that the feet weren't hanging evenly.  And when I turned onto my back and he re-examined the front of my legs, he identified the remaining problem: a weak vastus medialis muscle on the left (injured) side, compared with a stronger counterpart on the right (uninjured) side.  The vastus medialis is one of the four quadriceps muscles, running down the femur to the inside of the knee.  This was great news, knowing that this could be treated with exercises to strengthen the weak link!  

In advance of today's race, I had run a little on Wednesday evening, but the hip was still uncomfortable.  However, I diligently continued with the exercises.  Last night, I was able to jog around the house without any difficulty!  That wasn't fast but it was a noticeable improvement from Wednesday.  This morning, I woke up early enough to do the physical therapy exercises at home before driving to the race, warming up the hip muscles with a heating pad plugged into the car's AC port.  Arriving about 45 minutes before the start of the race, I went through pre-run dynamic stretches while chatting with running friends that I haven't seen in weeks.  Then, with some nervousness I headed to the sidewalk to see if I could run.  And I did!  I didn't go too far or too fast, about a 12 min / mile pace over a half-mile.  There was a little pain in the hip, but I wasn't limping!  I was so relieved!

Pre-race photo with a few members of Tucker Running Club.
We didn't know it at the time, but Donna (far right)
was about to run fast enough to earn an age-group award! 

I lined up near the back of the wave E runners, 11:30 min / mile pace or faster, just in front of the walking group.  I wasn't certain if I could manage an 11:30 min / mile pace, but was pretty sure that I wasn't going to be in anyone's way if I ran more slowly.  I decided to set my watch on a 4 min run, 1 min walk interval.  I felt a bit wistful when wave B began: last year I started on the front row of wave B, to set a new 10K personal record.  But it didn't take too long for wave E to have our turn at the starting line. And with the sound of the airhorn, we were off!  

Starting with wave E was a good idea.  I kept up with the group without straining, and didn't feel like I needed to go faster.  I made the conscious effort to avoid looking at my watch until 4 minutes in, when the first walk break sounded - and was delighted to see that I was just under an 11 min / mile pace!  I decided to keep jogging until the next break.  At 9 minutes the alert sounded again, and while I didn't "need" the walk break, I decided to take the break out of an abundance of caution.  The first mile ticked by in 10:52 - not bad for someone that couldn't run with confidence less than a week ago!  

I outran someone wearing this dude's jersey. 

The only discomfort was on the downhill sections, where I actually had to slow down.  I probably injured myself racing downhill in the Southside 12K, and had the same difficulty in the marathon, so it's clear that I still need to rebuild the vastus medialis (and the other three quadriceps muscles).  I wasn't paying too much attention to my pace, taking another 1 minute walk break at 19 minutes elapsed, and passing the mile 2 marker at 21:31, 10:39  for mile 2.  And so it went, a shorter walk break at the water station around 25 minutes elapsed, passing the mile 3 marker at 32:09, 10:38 for mile 3.  

I had resolved not to race at all, and had promised to restrain myself from sprinting to the finish line, no matter how well I felt.  But 50 feet ahead of me was a woman sporting the jersey of Michael-Bradley-captain-of-the-US-Men's-Soccer-Team-that-failed-to-qualify-for-the-World-Cup-2018-and-embarrassed-our-nation-I-can-beat-that-loser ... and-I-slowly-gained-and-then-passed-Michael-Bradley-who-somehow-was-female-with-long-dark-hair  ... and then I was back to my sober resolution to run at an easy pace.  We had one more hill to climb, yay!, and then downhill, not-so-good-but-Michael-Bradley-didn't-dare-pass-me.  I took a look at the watch as I made the final turn, just past 42 minutes elapsed.  I maintained a steady pace through the finish, even as a man passed me in the last 20 feet, a-real-man-not-MIchael-Bradley, and I didn't care: 10:32 for mile 4, official finish time 42:41!  "I'M BACK!!"  

Thanks to Teresa Ducuara for capturing my finish,
in the shade at Thrasher Park in downtown Norcross

Even though I have not yet completely recovered, today's run was very promising.  The hip muscle pain disappeared as soon as I stopped running.  I have had no ill effects later today.  I'm more motivated than before to keep up with the physical therapy exercises at home! 

March 31, 2018: Lustgarten Foundation Walk for Pancreatic Cancer Research

Today's post is not about a run.  This is a memorial to a friend who recently passed away, Han Chun Choi.  Han and Bonnie have been friends for more than 20 years, going back to their first years in Atlanta as young attorneys.  They were among the first members of the Georgia chapter of the National Asian Pacific American Bar Association (NAPABA, the state chapter being GAPABA).  I first met Han and his wife Catherine 8 or 9 years ago when Bonnie and I were dating.  Han was managing partner at the Ballard Spahr law firm, a loving husband to Catherine, and proud father to three teen-age children Christopher, David, and Hannah, with the brightest of futures ahead of them.  Han was a pillar in the community, not only with service and leadership with many organizations in the legal community, but also serving on the board of the Decatur Education Foundation and the Georgia Center for Nonprofits, and providing pro bono work for the International Women's House.  Most recently he was the president of the Georgia chapter of the Korean American Bar Association (KABA-GA).  In his last year, Han and his family partnered with the NAPABA Law Foundation to establish the Han C. Choi Scholarship Fund to support first- or second-year law students.

Han and his children serving on Martin Luther King Day 

Leadership by doing, stuffing envelopes for KABA even while battling cancer

In October 2016, Bonnie and I were invited to Han and Catherine's home to celebrate their dual 50th birthdays, what they titled the "100/2" celebration.  This was a wonderful party, with several dozen friends and members of their families gathering to celebrate.  I remember Han and Catherine speaking of the happiness of their lives and expressing so much optimism for the future.  

Love and joy 

and all the hope in the world.

And then in April 2017, we learned the terrible news that Han was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.  None of us had any idea that cancer cells were lurking in Han's body in the months before his first symptom of jaundice.  Han immediately began a regimen of chemotherapy to try to shrink the tumor enough to attempt surgical removal, which in itself would have been a high-risk procedure.  But despite everyone's best efforts, the cancer only continued to grow and spread, preventing any hope for a surgical treatment.  Shortly after the New Year, Han celebrated his 52nd birthday.  He continued working on good days and traveling with his family through mid-February, when his illness finally sapped too much of his energy.  At that time, Han asked his friends to come to visit.  Catherine generously welcomed the many friends and family that streamed through their home to share a few minutes with Han.  I was grateful for the opportunity to thank Han in person for his great support when Bonnie struggled professionally, and to share with him the news that I had just been selected in the lottery to run the New York City Marathon in November, a race that he completed in 2014.  Han shared some advice for the start, which I will endeavor to follow, in his memory. 

Han in the Atlanta Falcons' locker room on a tour of Mercedes-Benz Stadium,
in advance of the fall 2017 season

Han is wearing the poncho
immediately after finishing the
2014 New York City marathon

Han was the paragon of health: no unhealthy habits or behavior as far as I know.  He was a golfer, ran the Georgia Marathon twice, regularly competed in the Tour deCatur 5K (with the Decatur Education Foundation), and even completed a triathlon in 2011, back when I was still an overweight out-of-shape couch potato.  Han was a joyful person with a genuine smile and a positive demeanor.  He did "everything right".  Yet cancer still came after him, and in one of its most aggressive forms.  Han shed a few tears during our visit, as I did as well, knowing as I hugged him that it was really goodbye forever.  Han passed away on Monday evening March 26, exactly four weeks to the last evening that we visited him.  

This morning a large group of Han's friends in GAPABA and KABA completed the Lustgarten Run/Walk for Pancreatic Cancer Research, a 3-mile route on the Eastside Beltline.  A few people asked me if I was going to run.  But for me, today's event was not about getting to the finish line as quickly as possible.  Instead it was an opportunity to share our thoughts and memories of Han, and to strengthen bonds with friends.  (And I was still recovering from the marathon, not yet in shape to run, but glad that I could comfortably walk the route.)  It was a beautiful cool morning, without a cloud in the sky.  Before we began the walk, a young woman who had lost her grandmother and then her mother to pancreatic cancer cut a purple ribbon at the start-finish line.  This was a sobering moment for us: the plan was for pancreatic cancer survivors, including Han, to cut the ribbon.  But there were no survivors among us today.  Not only did Han leave us five days before our walk, another survivor who was planning to join us also recently passed away, two days before Han.  

Before the start of this morning's walk

Ribbon-cutting to start the walk.
When this was first planned, we had hoped that Han could join the ribbon cutting ceremony,
but it was not to be. 

It was wonderful to see our large group of purple-clad walkers on the Beltline.  I spent most of my time walking with Michele Hoover and Michael Ray, part of the larger circle of friends that Han had touched during his life in Atlanta.  As the walk progressed, my mood began to improve, from mourning to celebrating life and enjoying the beauty of the day.  

Bonnie with a few other GAPABA participants

Han will be missed by the large number of people that he influenced and inspired, but his legacy will live on, in his friends and family and children, in those continuing his professional and service work.  And even when we're all long gone, perhaps even when his name is no longer remembered, all of the good that he gave the world in 52 short years will grow and propagate forever into the future.  Rest in peace, Han Chun Choi. 

March 18, 2018: Publix Georgia Marathon

Today I finished my fourth marathon.  But, it wasn't pretty.  I was nervous going into the race due to the nagging injury from the Southside 12K four weeks ago.  My last run on Tuesday evening (4-1/2 days earlier) went OK as I was able to run a couple of sub-9 minute miles on the track, but pain in my left hip, left Achilles, and right shin never went away.  At packet pickup, I learned that a friend had changed her registration from the marathon to the 5K after suffering an injury.  I just couldn't imagine giving up on all of my training to this point, the massive investment of hours over the past four months, including three good runs >20 miles.  And so while resting my legs during the taper, keeping the exercise to a long walk each day, I hoped that I would be ready to complete the course. 

The weather today was spectacularly good: 55 deg F at the start, with a few clouds but promising to be mostly sunny, so that I liberally applied sunscreen in the hour before the race began.  I jogged a few steps here and there and was relieved that I could run, although not pain-free.  Nonetheless I was prepared with three mantras, in increasing order of intensity: 

1) SMILE!   Because I'm grateful that I can do this.  And Eliud Kipchoge smiles in his tough miles. 

And when things got tougher, I could fall back on the Weight Watchers mantra:

2) QUITTING IS NOT AN OPTION!  

And if my race began to completely fall apart, Running Rogue provided me with:

3) I'M A ******* BADASS!!

Completed lots of Saturday long runs with this great group!  And we're all smiling at 6:55 am. 

I began the race in wave C behind the 4:30 pacer, mostly to join a few friends from the Atlanta Track Club training group.  I set my watch to 4:30 run, 0:30 walk intervals.  My plan was to let them go ahead while I aimed for a 10:30 min / mile pace in the first four miles, and I would gradually work to catch back up, hopefully by the half-marathon split.  Crossing the starting mat at 7:09 am, as one of the last runners in wave C, I deployed mantra #1, SMILE!  I was able to run, not too fast, but easily managed a 10:30 min / mile pace.  I took the first walk break after 4-1/2 minutes, and shortly after resuming running, the first of the wave D runners caught up to me!  Nonetheless I was moving along fairly well, although on the high-end of 10 min / mile pace.  I was a little disappointed to cross the 5K mat at 35:22 (11:23 min / mile pace), probably right after a walk break, but at least I had not started out too fast!  My legs started to warm up and weren't too painful at this point, so I was able to speed up a bit, running closer to 10 min / mile pace for the next few miles. 

After the mile 5 marker, I saw Coach Carl Leivers and his family in front of the Variety Playhouse, as promised.  SMILE!  This was probably where I was feeling the best for the entire morning, and was pleased to be able to run relaxed past the Coach.  I reached the 10K sensor at 1:07:35 (10:53 min / mile pace) and was speeding up a bit.  I began to calculate, 40K would be 4:30, + 2 more km at 12 - 14 minutes, which meant I better run faster in the second half!  At the split after mile 7 where we left the half marathon runners, I felt like we had a larger group going for the marathon than last year.  I knew that this section would be hilly, but didn't really have much trouble going up hills at the easy pace.

After mile 12, approaching Decatur, the pain in my left hip started to get pretty bad.  This was disappointing: the first half of the marathon was supposed to be the easy part, and yet I was already having trouble.  I had improved my overall pace to 10:32 min / mile by mile 12, so until that point, a 4:30 finish was possible if I could speed up a little more in the second half.  But this was where I began to slow down.  By the time that I crossed the 13.1 timing mat in downtown Decatur, at 2:20, my overall pace was 10:43 min / mile.  SMILE!  QUITTING IS NOT AN OPTION!  The next few miles from Decatur to the Emory campus were net downhill.  Last year I easily sped up in this section.  Not today.  I was now definitely limping, not a good look, especially not this early in the race.

It took forever to get to the Emory campus, what a shame on these familiar streets.  I was now running between 11 and 12 min / mile pace.  Near the mile 16 marker, Bill and Liesl Wuest from the chemistry department were there to cheer me.  Their son, Max, paced me down the hill.  I asked "Max, can you run the next 10 miles for me?"  Miles 17 - 20 wound through the Druid Hills neighborhood.  It wasn't the hills that were getting to me, it was the distance and the time.  I now needed more than 13 minutes to complete a mile.  If there was any consolation, many of the other runners around me were also having trouble.  SMILE!  QUITTING IS NOT AN OPTION!  and now it was time for the nuclear option:  I'M A ******* BADASS!!   as I limped past a man wearing a Rock 'n' Roll marathon shirt.  

When I crossed the mile 20 sensor at 3:48 (11:24 min / mile), all of my time goals for the race were now out of reach.  It was just about finishing.  I walked most of miles 21 and 22, through the hills of Virginia-Highland.  My friend from Tucker Running Club, Linda Bode Phinney, was a 5:00 pacer.  She called my name as she approached, saying "C'mon Frank, we'll get up this hill together!"  I shook my head no.  Linda asked "Are you injured?"  "Yes, I'll be OK, but I need to walk right now."  She and her group went on.  I was so disappointed to realize that I was going to record my slowest marathon time, but now it was just about getting to the finish line, without cheating.  Yes, I was thinking about where I might cut the course, but stayed honest, repeating  SMILE!  QUITTING IS NOT AN OPTION!  I'M A ******* BADASS!!  SMILE!  QUITTING IS NOT AN OPTION!  I'M A ******* BADASS!!  SMILE!  QUITTING IS NOT AN OPTION!  I'M A ******* BADASS!!  until the feeling had passed.  

There were quite a few people cheering in the final miles today.  If any of you are reading this, your encouragement was really appreciated!  I was trying to limp-run more than limp-walk.  Remarkably, the downhill sections were more painful on the hip than the uphill sections, which led me to think that the injury occurred running downhill as fast as possible in the Southside 12K.  Finally we made it into the Georgia Tech campus, at the mile 24 marker.  2.2 miles to go.  In the original plan, this is where I was going to try to gun into the finish with a couple of 9 minute miles.  Today I managed to speed up to 16 minutes.  SMILE!  QUITTING IS NOT AN OPTION!  I'M A ******* BADASS!!  OH THE PAIN! 

The last part of the course changed this year due to some construction at Centennial Olympic Park, so at the mile 25 marker, instead of turning onto Marietta Street, we made a U-turn to run back through Georgia Tech to Luckie Street.  And I saw Harley and Jessica, two run leads from Track Club training, with the 5:30 pace group sign.  OK, I have a new time goal: DO NOT LET HARLEY AND JESSICA CATCH UP!  SMILE!  QUITTING IS NOT AN OPTION!  I'M A ******* BADASS!!  Yet it took FOREVER to get to the Aquarium at the intersection with Ivan Allen Blvd.  As we crossed the street, I could see the 26 mile sign, and a volunteer called out, "400 meters to go!"  

I couldn't manage a SMILE at this point.  I was barely willing myself to finish.  QUITTING IS NOT AN OPTION.  Limping slowly down the street, the last turn took its sweet time coming up to me, even though I had now "sped up" to a 14 min / mile pace.  Several run leads in the Atlanta Track Club were cheering me by name.  Tears were coming to my eyes from the pain and the emotion.  I'm glad that I was wearing sunglasses.  I'M A ******* BADASS.  And then, there was the finish line, in the same place as the Hotlanta Half and Atlanta's Finest 5K finish lines.  An announcer was handing out high fives, I tapped his hand as I pushed to the finish line.  Unfortunately I had completely run out of SMILE.  There was Bonnie on the left side, taking my photo as I crossed the finish line.  She looked concerned, and relieved to see me.  I accepted my medal, a bottle of water, and a banana.  I began looking for the entrance to the medical tent. 

Finally!  

Or is it the second timing mat? 

OK, now it's official. 

"Where's the medical tent?!"

Never too injured to stop the watch

Didn't quit. 

I remembered a spoof video on what NOT to do in a race:  "I don't think you've tried unless you've gone to the medical tent."  Well, I tried, that's for sure.  And I finished.  That is what mattered today.  And the guys in the medical tent were great.  They packed my left thigh with a couple of bags of ice, which felt so good.  I lay down on a cot for a few minutes, assured Bonnie that while my leg was killing me, the most important organs (heart, lungs, brain) were fine.  And after about 15 minutes, I took off the ice, was able to stand, and walk slowly but successfully. 

I am really disappointed that I didn't have a good race, after all of the training, but it's 100% my fault.  Five weeks ago, I was in shape to run a sub 4:30 marathon.  I'm confident that I could have done it if I hadn't made a big mistake one week later.  I ignored Coach Amy's advice to run the 12K race at marathon pace (10 min / mile).  Instead I let testosterone take over and ran at my 10K PR pace (8 min / mile).  I've been paying for it, and probably will continue to hurt for a few more weeks.  The first order of business for the next several weeks is rest and recovery.  I'm glad that I've resisted the temptation to register for any other paid races prior to the Hotlanta Half in mid-June.  I hope that I will be fully recovered by then. 

My next marathon will be the New York City Marathon on November 4 - yes, I won a lottery entry!  And now I realize that preparing for that marathon must be my total running commitment.  There's no point in going after new PRs in the 5K, 10K, half marathon, etc. for this year, as I've mastered those races well enough.  Because after four marathons, I've only had one decent finish.  And the last thing I want is a bad experience in front of a million spectators and millions more watching on television or internet feeds.  

This tells the entire story in a nutshell. 

March 10, 2018: The Charles Harris Run for Leukemia (10K)

Bonnie snapped this photo at bib pickup before the race,
making it look like I was about to be devoured
by the Tucker Tiger, while I was attaching my race bib.  

The training cycle for next weekend's Publix Georgia Marathon has gone very well for me, knocking out the long runs with the 10 min / mile pace group.  After completing a 22.5 mile run four weeks ago, I declared myself ready to run the marathon, with considerable confidence that I would break the 4:30 mark.  And then, three weeks ago:

I ran the Southside 12K.

Coach Amy Begley had advised us to run the race at marathon pace, which for me would have been a 10 min / mile pace, finishing just under 75 minutes.  But I had realized, if I could maintain my 10K personal record 8 min / mile pace for two more kilometers, I would finish in less than 60 minutes.  And I did just that, recording a time of 59:36 for my first 12K race.  I deployed a new mantra that pushed me up the last tough hill going into the finish line.  

But I paid dearly for that effort.  I didn't think that I was injured at first, but as the general soreness faded in the next day or two, I was left with a sore Achilles on the left ankle, weakness in the right ankle, and a painful left hip, which was either an IT band or a quadriceps strain, maybe both.  I've struggled with several runs since then.  Two weeks ago, I did finish a 20.5-mile run at a 12 min / mile pace to complete my third 20+ long run of the cycle.  But the injuries are still bothering me, despite spending considerable time on the foam roller and less time actually running.  Certainly I haven't been overdoing it during the taper period.  I just hope that I can run without too much pain next weekend.

Good turnout by the Tucker Running Club!

For the fifth consecutive year, I registered for the Charles Harris Run for Leukemia.  This is a fast net downhill course, typically held in the weeks before Peachtree Road Race registration closes.  If I hadn't injured myself a few weeks ago, I probably would have raced hard today to see if I could trim a few seconds off my previous personal record of 49:28.  But I was in no shape to do that today.  In fact I deliberately made sure that I registered a week ago for the Peachtree Road Race, to remove one major reason to try too hard today. 

Part of the Ben's Wizards team, before the race:
(l-to-r) Richard Wilson, me, Teresa Ducuara, Michele Richard 

The main motivation for continuing with the race was to join the Ben's Wizards team.  A few years ago, one of my running buddies Richard Wilson lost a friend and co-worker to leukemia.  Ben Newman was only in his 40's when he passed away.  Richard had told me a little about Ben in the past, and when Richard and his fiancé invited me to join Ben's Wizards, I was happy to join.  They created purple shirts for the team, purple being the color adopted by the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.  

I warmed up with about a quarter mile walk inside the Tucker High School gym and then began to run slowly, feeling considerable pain in my left hip.  After less than a half-mile, I stopped for the Tucker Running Club photo, then resumed with two laps on the track outside, barely at a 10 min / mile pace.  With some trepidation, I headed for the start, taking a position near the back of the pack.  

With Donna Roberts, who worked the water station at the Southside 12K

My main running goal for today was to try out a new mantra.  Turns out, the mantra that I used in the Southside 12K was "too strong," pushing me so hard that I injured myself!  So I needed a more appropriate mantra.  

At the 40 km water station in last month's Tokyo Marathon, Yuta Shitara picked up a badge
with his mantra, driving him to a second-place finish and a new marathon record for a Japanese runner.

While that might have worked for Yuta Shitara in the Tokyo Marathon, in which he won a 100 million yen award for setting a new marathon record for a Japanese runner, that would be too mild for me.  And then I realized that I've been carrying the perfect mantra on my wrist ID: "Quitting is not an option."  That comes from our Weight Watchers leader, encouraging healthy eating in moderation, while in the midst of a largely sedentary society with abundant and inexpensive fast food options.

Mantra slightly modified due to Road ID character limit

The race started shortly before 8 am.  Some of my friends in the Tucker Running Club were a little surprised to see me starting behind them, but I needed to start slowly and carefully.  I had set my watch to a 4:30 run, 0:30 walk, and took the first walk break midway through the first mile.  Getting back to a run was a little difficult for the first few steps, but as my legs warmed up, I was able to stride a bit better.  Intending to run the race at a 10 min / mile pace, I was a little surprised to complete the first mile in 9:40.  I decided that if I could stick with the 9:40 min / mile pace, I would finish in a respectable time of 60 minutes.  But in mile 2, I slowed to 9:57, and needed 10:04 for mile 3.  I passed the 5K marker at 31 minutes even, on pace for a 62 minute finish. 

It's amazing how an injury can plant so many negative thoughts in my mind.  I started to wonder, in next week's race, should I drop from the marathon to the half-marathon? or the 5K? That would really be a shame after all of the effort that I've made to prepare for 26.2 miles.  "Quitting is not an option!"  And that's when I decided that I would try to push myself a little harder.  For mile 4, I was back to a 9:43 pace.  I also realized that the transition from walking to running was part of my problem, so decided to skip some of the walk breaks for the rest of the race.  I certainly wasn't winded, as my voice was strong as I thanked the volunteers at the water station.  I was beginning to pass other runners, and hadn't been passed by anyone since I had stopped taking walk breaks.  My attitude began to improve as I just focused on running.  "Quitting is not an option!"  Finishing mile 5 in 9:21, and less than 49 minutes elapsed, I realized that I could run the last 1.22 miles in 11 minutes if I managed a 9 min / mile pace for the rest of the race.  The great thing about the Charles Harris Run is that the mile 5 marker is at the top of a hill, with a 100-foot drop over the next half-mile or so.  I started to accelerate, passing more runners heading downhill.  The pain was still there but wasn't any worse, so I just focused on setting a faster pace, enjoying the easiest part of the course.  At the bottom of the hill, we turned onto North Druid Hills Road, with a slight uphill. "QUITTING IS NOT AN OPTION!"  Since I wasn't winded, I ran strongly uphill, passing more and more and more people as I drew closer to the finish line.  As I reached the 6 mile marker (8:42 for mile 6, 57:30 elapsed, I could see the top of the finish line banner in the distance, and I realized that I would definitely complete the race in less than an hour.  I passed a few more runners, which encouraged them to run faster trying to stay ahead of me.  I wasn't really racing them, I just wanted a good finish for myself.  As I drew near the finish line, I could see Bonnie ahead, ready to capture my photo.  At the start of the race, I hadn't expected to celebrate at the end, but as I crossed the timing mat, I flashed a big smile and raised both hands, pleased that I had run better than I had expected. 

59:50 gun time thanks to a strong finish!

I forgot to stop my watch until I had pulled off to the side to chat with Richard and Bonnie, but I estimate that my official time was between 59:30 and 59:40.  Although my legs were sore, I didn't feel any worse for the effort.  In fact the race has improved my confidence that I may continue to recover in the week remaining before the marathon. 

With Richard after the race - mission accomplished,
paying our respects to Ben's memory.
Ben's Wizards will run the Winship Cancer Institute 5K in the fall.