September 21, 2019: Wingfoot Cross-Country 5K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The trees on either side are memorials to local residents.

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

September 2, 2019: The Big Peach Sizzler 10K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Carl, Brian, and Frank before the race

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

Where was Brian Minor??  

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

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

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

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

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

Now it was time to speed up a bit.  

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

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

No acceleration.   

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

I had started as if the temperature was 58 degrees.   

It was not.  It was 70 degrees. 

And where was Brian?!  Nowhere in sight.  

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

And where was Brian?! 

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

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

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

Carl finished first.

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

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

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

Brian Minor.  

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

I found a previously unknown reservoir of strength.

I jetted past him on his left.  

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

But Brian had one more surge left within him.

He passed me again, on my right.  

I was done, spent, busted.  

Brian's finish

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

Finishing the race; the grimace 

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

The thrill of victory, and
the agony of defeat.

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

"Who am I?"  "What am I doing here?"

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

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

         Brian Minor, 53:12, 296th place overall

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

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

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

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

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

Bronze, Gold, and Silver

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

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

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

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

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

August 24, 2019: Run the ATL 20K

Having raced the Atlanta's Finest 5K last week, and looking forward to the Big Peach Sizzler 10K on Labor Day (Sept 2), Coach Carl Leivers recommended taking it easy in today's race:

I was 100% on board with that message.  After I won the race with Brian Minor in the Decatur-DeKalb 4-miler, we scheduled a big rematch planned in the Big Peach Sizzler in just nine days.  I know that Carl is helping to minimize my chances of injuring myself again, which is probably more likely if I race hard every week.  My plan has had a 12-mile long run four weeks ago and another two weeks ago, with the recommendation to keep the pace easy.  So far I've been very compliant.  To make it a little more interesting, I've tried to make these progression runs, with the additional caveat:

   

That requires literally running the first mile and often the first three or four miles "with the brakes on", for me at the slow end of the 11 - 12 min / mile pace.  That has worked well: by running the first mile extremely slowly, I have some room to gradually speed up by just a few seconds with each mile, so I can still run my last mile the fastest.  I've definitely felt the strength and cardiovascular benefits from this training strategy!  I don't think that the absolute VO2 max value from a Garmin watch is that accurate, but surely the upward trend is real! 

Before the race began, I caught up with several other runners, including Carl Line, who I haven't seen in about a month.  Last weekend, while I was running a 5K race + a 2-1/2 mile cooldown, he ran 18 Miles for Maria in the morning.  And then in the 90 degree heat of the early evening, Carl ran 13.1 more miles in the Alien Half Marathon.  I haven't run more than 30 miles total in a week in this training cycle, much less running that many in a single day!  Back in May, we ran a couple of races together: he won the first race by about 45 seconds.  Two weeks later, I outran him by about one minute!  Afterwards I learned that he was saving his energy for a half-marathon the next day, in his quest to complete 100 half-marathons, which he did on July 4 of this year.  When I asked Carl his goal for today, he said "Trying to beat 2 hours" to which I replied "I'm just doing this as a training run.  I'll run very slowly in the first lap, then will try to gradually speed up."  I didn't have a time goal at all, I just wanted to finish before the finish line closed 2-1/2 hours after the start.  Last year I ran 2:12:30 using this race as a training run, consistently marking each lap at about a 10:45 min / mile pace.   

There were two big differences this year: 1) the temperature was quite a bit warmer, 74 deg F at the start, and 2) we started three or four blocks south of last year's starting point.  I didn't know the reason before the race, but after we ran, I learned that a big section of Ted Turner Drive had been removed, so there was a gaping hole over Atlanta's Big Gulch, near the 2-mile mark of last year's race route.  

Near the start (photo added Sept 1)

In today's race, the main event was the 4 x 5K relay: 105 relay teams started the race, along with 151 running a 10K as a Peachtree Road Race qualifier, and 68 starting the 20K race, so there were over 300 people at the start.  I stayed near the back of the pack and didn't hear the start signal, but shortly after the announced start time of 7:00 am, it was clear that the group was moving forward very quickly.  I planned to wait to start my watch until I reached the starting mat, but there wasn't one!  I just started the watch about where I thought the leaders had begun.  After all, today was just a training run, my time wouldn't matter at all.  

Lap 1: True to my plan, I ran the first mile very slowly.  My watch kept showing my pace tick faster than 11 minute / mile, so I forced myself to slow down, and then braked some more.  At one point I was surrounded by a phalanx of young women.  I wanted to scoot around them to run faster, but I realized that by staying patient, they were helping me stay on plan.  Mile 1: 11:01 minutes.  Approaching Spelman College, my "security detail" split up through a couple of turns, and I sped up just a tad.  However, walking through the water station midway through the second mile brought me back onto a reasonable pace, finishing mile 2 in 10:42.  Instead of turning onto Ted Turner Drive, the police directed us to run one more block to turn left onto Forsyth Street.  Several blocks later, we turned left onto Marietta Street.  Last year this was one short and quick block, but this year's stretch along Marietta was longer.  Then we made another left turn onto Centennial Olympic Park drive, bringing us on the original and familiar route, uphill past the State Farm Arena (formerly Phillips Arena), and then past the Mercedes-Benz Stadium.  I decided to take some photos in this area for the blog post, and that successfully slowed me down a bit. 

Mercedes-Benz Stadium ahead, and a billboard
celebrating our best football team, Atlanta United.
The lighting wasn't that good at 7:30 am, sorry! 

After passing Mercedes-Benz Stadium, it was just two blocks, downhill, to the relay exchange and finish area.  Tim Parker was the first volunteer we encountered, cheering us on and directing the relay runners to stay to the left.  Then I saw Tes Sobomehin Marshall, the race director, cheering us forward.  This was the best part of the race, watching the excitement of the relay runners approaching the exchange area, with the other 300 members of their teams cheering us all!  

Tim Parker (above), Tes Marshall (below).
Tes pointed straight at me as I ran toward the exchange area,
but you may have trouble seeing her arm. 

Teammates / spectators waiting for the third or fourth legs of their relay (above);
I stayed to the right of the lane, away from the excitement and
chaos of the exchange zone coming up on the left. 

(Above) The runner in the blue singlet is completing the first 5K leg,
and preparing to hand off to the woman ahead also wearing blue.
The two women ahead and to the right are running either the 10K or the 20K.
(Below) The exit to the relay exchange, and the timing mat marking each lap.
This clock didn't show the correct time, but there was another clock in the finish area
(not shown, but behind and to the right) that appeared to be correct,
about 33 minutes elapsed when I passed. 

At this point my phone memory was full, so I couldn't take any more photos.  But I was happy with my first lap, 32:55 on my watch for about 3.0 miles.  With the new start area up ahead, the first lap was shorter but the subsequent laps measured between 3.1 and 3.2 miles.  

Lap 2: "Brakes off!"  Nonetheless I was very careful to just run easily, with over 9 miles to go.  The second water station was less than a block beyond the timing mat.  I accepted a cup of Gatorade, walking for about 30 seconds, and then took my first of six ShotBloks, planning to take two per lap for the rest of the race.  My heart rate was still nice and low, below 150 beats per minute, consistent with an easy running pace.  I sped up to a 10:30 min / mile pace.  In a long stretch on Peters Avenue, probably about 1/3 of a mile, the lanes of runners passed each other.  In the first lap, I had only seen a few of the very fastest runners, but on the second lap, I now spotted several friends who were a few minutes ahead of me.  As expected, I saw Liz Mann, Carl Line, Bob Wells, Carol Gsell, among others.  I knew that I wouldn't catch up to them, but it didn't matter, as today was just a training run.  On the return loop from Spelman College, I finally saw the sun in the east, and wore my sunglasses for the rest of the race.  For most of the first two laps, I was just a bit behind Jennifer Butz.  She is training for a 50K race in two weeks.  She had planned to run a steady 11 min / mile pace, so on the return loop from Spelman College, I caught up to her.  She was using run-walk intervals so we leapfrogged a couple of times, but I moved ahead after I had walked through the mid-course water station, taking a second ShotBlok.  On this lap, I began counting the blocks along Forsyth Street (four blocks) and Marietta Street (three blocks), in case I needed that information if I grew tired later in the race.  Working my way up the hill past the sports arenas and then back downhill to the exchange area, I finished lap 2 in 32:50 (data from Strava), estimated pace 10:20 min / mile over approximately 3.15 miles.  

Lap 3: Having run the first two laps very conservatively, I thought that I would speed up just a tiny bit more.  I still walked through both water stations on this lap, taking a ShotBlok at each one, but ran a couple of miles faster than a 10 minute / mile pace.  Hopefully I wouldn't regret that later on.  In the two-lane area on Peters Street, I saw Carl Line, close to the same point that I had seen him in the first lap, but still a few minutes ahead of me.  Coming back from Spelman College, some of the faster runners in the 20K or the last leg of the relay lapped me, moving quite quickly.  I congratulated and encouraged as they passed me.  After all, I wasn't racing, just training today.  At the point where we crossed Ted Turner Drive, a woman nearly crashed into me.  She had been on my right, and appeared to want to make a left turn onto Turner Drive, and must have expected that I would also turn.  Then I realized that she was wearing a laminated tag: she was running the relay.  Since it was her first lap of the day, perhaps she didn't realize that the route had changed from last year.  The police must have assumed that we all knew the route by the third lap, or perhaps after more than an hour, their attention was exclusively on controlling auto traffic at the intersections.  In the final mile of the third lap, I ran about the same pace as a young boy, probably about 10 years old, who was running with his mother.  When I checked the results later in the day, I saw that there was one youth team named "Boys on the Run," who finished about a minute ahead of me.  Late in the third lap, I passed Carol Gsell, walking.  I asked if she was alright, she replied "I'm having a bad day."  Fortunately I knew that we were close to the finish area, and she looked like she could make it.  The boy and his mom moved ahead of me as we all approached the relay exchange area.  I finished lap 3 in 31:50, estimated pace 10:05 min / mile.  As I passed through, I saw Jackie Dean, who has previously trained with Coach Carl.  I asked how her team did, and she replied "We won!"  Obviously her team had finished four laps before I had finished my third. 

Lap 4: I intended to make this my fastest lap.  I took water at the first water station but didn't slow down.  Tommy Daniels was handing out cold towels and he offered one as I dashed by.  I wished that I had taken one but had missed it, calling out (untruthfully) "I'm good!"  Well, that wasn't really wrong: I was carrying a Coach Carl towel to wipe off sweat.  The temperature grew warmer as the sun rose into the sky.  I passed Bob Wells, who was walking.  I asked if he was OK: he said that he was, and sounded like he was just tired.  Before reaching Peters Street, I saw two runners with bibs in the opposite lane.  That wasn't the race route, unless the final lap was a different route?  Something to watch out for on the way back.  

I didn't have much trouble banging out mile 10 in 9:30.  But as I checked my watch for my pace, I nearly suffered a collision with an automobile: the driver crossed the intersection at the moment I was entering.  I wasn't watching that closely, and maybe the driver and the police misjudged because perhaps I was running a little faster than the others around me.  Or maybe it was the black singlet that made me invisible to the police and the driver.  I slowed down, threw up my arms and yelled "What the %&X@?!" as the car passed in front of me.  Fortunately I wasn't hit, and even though my arms were up in the air, I restrained myself from throwing my last ShotBlok at the car.    

I got back up to speed, but for the rest of the race, I watched carefully at all of the intersections.  Near Spelman College, I was running alone when another car turned into my lane!  I waved furiously to direct the driver out of my lane, and at least that driver saw me and immediately crossed into the other lane.  When I reached that turn, the policeman working the corner had his back to the road, looking in his car for something.  I decided not to say anything and just kept running.  But at subsequent intersections, where the police were watching, I thanked them for staying through the final lap.  Carol Gsell was still on the course, walking the final lap.  She was certain that she could at least finish.  I congratulated and encouraged her as we passed, glad to see that she didn't need to drop out.  When I checked their Strava results later in the day, I saw that Carol and Bob had both run some additional mileage before the start of the race.  I dashed through the last water station after taking my last ShotBlok, following my plan not to take a walk break in the final lap.  That was around the end of mile 11, completed in a respectable 9:52, but not faster than I had run mile 10.  Although the police didn't direct us one way or the other at the intersection with Turner Drive, the runners ahead of me ran straight ahead on Peters Street as we had in the last three laps, and I just followed them. 

With about 1-1/2 miles to go, I began to struggle.  Turning onto Forsyth Street, a 10 foot hill that I had hardly noticed on the previous laps nearly broke my spirit.  I was hot, tired, sweaty.  My legs ached.  A couple of runners passed me.  I tried to keep up with them, but then I began to feel sick to my stomach.  It had been about three hours since I had eaten breakfast, but it seemed that the ShotBloks were causing some discomfort.  My stomach felt tight against my running belt.  I had never vomited while running, and had rarely felt that kind of trouble in a race - although apparently that happened to the great Meb Keflezighi on several occasions.  Of course I was moving at only 1/2-Meb speed.  After I nearly tripped over a pothole, I reminded myself that this was just a training run.  I needed to save my effort for Labor Day.  It really didn't matter if my last mile today was not my fastest.  I let myself slow down a bit more.  I thought about giving in to walking, but a slow jog helped me get through the four blocks of Forsyth Street.   

As we turned onto Marietta Street, way up ahead, I saw Carl Line, in his distinctive American Flag running pants.  It took me about a minute to reach the same spot, as the three blocks on Marietta ticked by.  Hmm, Carl has slowed down even more than I have.  I wonder if I can catch him?  Probably not.  But I was no longer thinking of the heat or my stomach.  My legs still hurt, but I wasn't too far from the finish.  And turning onto Centennial Olympic Park Drive, had I gained on Carl?  It certainly seemed like it!  Still, I didn't think that I had a chance to catch up to him.  But after passing State Farm Arena while running uphill, he was less than 100 feet ahead of me.  I started thinking, "Carl, don't look behind you."  I imagined running silently and stealthily, sneaking up on him.  And in front of Mercedes-Benz Stadium, I drew even with him.  I don't think he noticed, until I said, "Carl, this is for our age group!"  As I passed, I would have been happy if he had matched my pace, and we had run the final two blocks together to the finish line.  After all, we were well past 2 hours.  There was no chance of an award at that relatively slow pace.  But he didn't seem to keep up.  I moved into a higher gear, as I crested the final hill.  I took a quick look behind me, Carl wasn't right on my shoulder, now he was at least 50 feet behind.  I kept pushing as hard as I could.  Approaching the finish line, I took one more quick look, didn't see Carl.  Was he on my other side?  No, no one at all was immediately behind me.  And as I accelerated toward the finish line, I was gaining strongly on a young woman ahead of me.  The spectators were cheering: could I catch up to her, I thought as I entered the finish chute just a few steps behind her.  

She crossed the finish line one second ahead of me. 

And then my turn to cross the final timing mat.
(Photos added Sept. 1)

31:35 for the fourth lap, 2:09:08 total elapsed on my watch.  Later I saw that my official gun time was 2:09:31.  

Rolling hills the entire way: the big hill near the end of each lap
 was from Marietta Street past Mercedes-Benz Stadium.
It wasn't a true hill, but the elevated roadway passing over the Big Gulch of Atlanta.  

Heart rate steadily rose from start to the 11-mile mark where I began to feel sick.
Good thing I slowed down just a bit before making the finish push to the end.
Below, a new feature on Garmin Connect provides a bar graph of my heart rate zones.
I ran lap 1 and part of lap 2 in zone 3; the rest of lap 2 and all of lap 3 in zone 4;
and I must have been in zone 5 for the entirety of lap 4. 

I stopped shortly after crossing the finish line, waited for Carl to cross, about 20 seconds later.  Although I had outrun him at the end, I had really paid for my strong finish.  He looked much better than I felt, whereas I was struggling to stay upright.  I collected my medal, just kept slowly walking around until I could pick up a delicious bottle of water and a banana.  I needed several minutes to regain enough equilibrium for some post-run stretches, which helped my battered, tired legs.  

Garmin splits (above) show my numerical times per mile,
but the Strava bar graph (below) shows more dramatically
how substantially I fell off the pace in mile 12.
I was happy to see that the final fraction of a mile
was my second-fastest split of the race. 

I was still recovering from my finish when the awards ceremony began.  It took awhile for Tes to get to the male age group 50 - 59 (no chance to win anything with such a large group).  And then she announced, "in third place, finishing in 2:09:54, Carl Line!"  Wow!! Both Carl and I were stunned, and he told me, "That means you're second place!"  Sure enough, after Carl had collected his award, Tes announced "and in second place, with a time of 2:09:31, I know that he's going to blog about it, please congratulate a good friend of mine, Frank McDonald!"  I walked up grinning from ear to ear!  First place went to Ron Tolliver, finishing in 2:04:55.  We were all present for the post-race photo (which I will add here if it appears on the FaceBook page for the race).      

Unfortunately I followed Coach Carl's advice only for the first half of the race.  I didn't rein in my competitive nature, and sped up more than I should have in the third lap, and then I really suffered in the final lap.  But I did have fun with it, especially with my strong finish.  After the festivities concluded, and I had stretched a bit more, I was relieved to find that I could jog a half-mile to the lot where I had parked my car, at a 12 min / mile pace without difficulty or pain.  Hopefully I will recover completely in the next few days.