January 21, 2023: Jerome Scales Southside 5-Miler

With 5 weeks to go until the marathon, my confidence is gradually returning. A 20-mile long run last Sunday was successful, as well as a good recovery within the next couple of days. I hope that enough of the humility knocked into me a couple of weeks ago will remain: part of the marathon taper will be finding that perfect balance between confidence and humility to support my best performance on race day. 

Today's Jerome Scales races moved to a new location: the city of College Park, an Atlanta suburb adjacent to Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport. The community was founded in the 1890's and was an early education center, home of the Georgia Military Academy which since evolved into the Woodward Academy, an excellent private K-12 school. Unfortunately for College Park, in the 1920's the city of Atlanta elected to build its airport immediately to its east. As aviation has advanced from the Wright Brothers' propeller plane into today's wide-body long-range twinjets, College Park has declined, as one of the world's busiest airports has overwhelmed large sections of its neighbor. When I looked at the race route, it looked like we would run through the middle of College Park, thinking that we would run down the Main Street with a lively number of restaurants and other businesses. 

I had worked late Friday night on a grant application (due February 5) and was nervous that I might miss a 5 am alarm this morning. Fortunately our cat Milo conscientiously and cheerfully took on the job of ensuring that I didn't oversleep. Milo knows how much I enjoy running - he's a smart guy, and I think he reads this blog even though he denies it, but he never admits to any of his other mischief.... Anyway, Milo put his very best effort into waking me up around 4:45 am. Thanks to Milo, I was "grateful" to turn off the alarm a couple of minutes before 5:00 am, sparing everyone from the annoying noise. And after feeding breakfast to Milo and his older sister and brother, and getting dressed with two layers for a cool morning run, I drove to the College Park MARTA station with plenty of time to park and pick up my bib, even staying warm inside the car for a few extra minutes. 

Bryan Greenberg's son Ben ran his first
Atlanta Track Club race this morning! 
Notice that Ben is wearing a Maryland Terrapins cap,
to match his father's distinctive race day kit. 

Around 7:30 am I finally began to warm up. Coach Carl had recommended taking this race "nice and easy", with 1 mile warm-up and 1 mile "warm-down". Today was just a good opportunity for 7 easy miles in advance of next weekend's 22-mile long run. Unfortunately I had trouble finding a good place to warm up, as the parking lot was fenced in. The only outlets were the road from the highway that I had driven into the parking lot, and a path across the timing mat, which I didn't want to trigger ahead of time. I managed to safely navigate 0.84 miles at 11 min / mile pace, and after a quick porta-potty stop, another 0.59 miles slightly faster, arriving in the C corral just a few minutes before we were due to start. 

Right before our start, an airplane took off from the airport
(in the background). I wanted to photograph the next takeoff, 
but our wave began the race before we saw another plane.

The airhorn sounded at 8:04 am, and I cautiously started, practicing a marathon day conservative start. Just ahead of me was Linda Bode Phinney, so I caught up with her, and we chatted for a few minutes. Then my watch sounded the 4:30 walk break, so I dropped back, while Linda went on to win her age group. Good thing I didn't try to keep up with Linda beyond the first half-mile, otherwise I would have messed up the "nice and easy" part. After 30 seconds walking, my pace had dropped from low 9 min / mile to high 9 min / mile, and I decided that I would aim for no faster than marathon goal pace, around 10 min / mile. 

Blue is slow, dark blue is walking.
I picked up the pace after passing the 
mile 4 marker, where the route turns green. 

I could see Main Street in the distance, but it turned out that the road didn't cross the MARTA right-of-way. So we turned right onto East Main Street, while I looked left across the tracks to try to see if I remembered any of the restaurants from a walk with Bonnie on Main Street about a year ago. I remember the sign for "The Breakfast Boys". On East Main Street we passed what looked like a small bed-and-breakfast, mixed among a church, some homes and various small businesses. Mile 1, 10:05. Perfect! 

In mile 2, we turned into a neighborhood for a few blocks. I decided to take a cup of water at the hydration station, even though I had taken a walk break just 1 minute earlier. In a couple of more blocks, we separated from the 5K runners, with the 5-Miler folks turning back onto East Main Street. I passed the mile 2 marker in 9:59. I wasn't paying much attention to my watch during the race, occasionally glancing just to make sure that I wasn't running too fast or that my heart rate was too high - around 140 bpm, in the middle of my aerobic zone, so that was just fine. It was good to learn today that I could take an extra walk break at a water stop without expending extra effort or sacrificing marathon goal pace. 

Early in mile 3, a fellow caught up to me and an older runner (I think) that I was leapfrogging with my run-walk intervals. "Is this the senior group?" he asked? I replied jokingly "we're competing for the AARP age group award." He looked like a relatively new member of the senior group himself, definitely younger than me. He said "I have three goals: 1) don't walk, 2) don't fall, and 3) don't require paramedic assistance." I responded "Well, I do run-walk, so #1 is out for me. But for the third one: have you heard, 'you haven't tried hard enough unless you end up in the medical tent!'?" That brought out a laugh, "I'll have to remember that one" he said as he moved ahead. 

We crossed the city limit into East Point, then turned right onto Willingham Road. To our right there was a nice track with soccer goals - and without any American football goalposts, which not a common sight at high schools in the Southeast. Then I saw the sign for Woodward Academy. Throughout the next couple of miles, we ran near the academy. Before today I had not realized the size of Woodward Academy, but makes sense with four campuses in this part of College Park divided by age grades. Certainly other private schools located closer to the center of Atlanta, such as Paidaea and the International School, have much smaller campuses. Mile 3: 10:05. 

Shortly afterwards, we passed a sensor at the 3.11 mile mark, i.e. the 5K split. Aha, that's to ensure that the 5-Mile participants have covered the full distance, or at least will detect that if a registered 5-Miler only runs the 5K distance, they can get sorted into the correct race results. As we made a couple of turns, Alice Pate caught up with me, then she seemed to slow down and we didn't end up running together. In the meantime, I was thinking appreciately about how this course was relatively easy, with some gently rolling small hills but nothing difficult. What a nice comparison to the previous courses for this race at Wolf Creek Amphitheater, where I had badly strained several muscles in my legs running downhill far too fast in the 12K distance, or last year's 5K in a different neighborhood but just as hilly. 

It's a good thing that I had kept my thoughts about an easy course to myself, because midway through the fourth mile, we began climbing up Harrison Road for a couple of blocks. Fortunately a 30-second walk break at 34:30 allowed me to avoid the worst of the difficulty of this hill. When I resumed running, I could reach the crest of the hill rather strongly. Of course we all know that it wouldn't have been an Atlanta Track Club road race if there were no memorable hills. There was another water station on Walker Avenue in front of a park. The water was bracingly cold, sitting out in 40 deg F temperature. I was thinking about how great it will be to have similarly chilled water stations at the Peachtree Road Race in July. Hopefully someone in the Track Club administration will see this blog post, will realize what a great suggestion this is, and will make it so by July 4. More than five months is plenty of time to act on my fantastic idea. You're welcome, Atlanta Track Club.  

Upon making a turn, we joined the route of the 5K participants. The route was a little crowded, especially when there was a scrum of people in the middle of the street just past the intersection. Oh no, that means a medical problem of some kind. I tried to give plenty of room as I passed. A woman had fallen and had blood on her head, but at least she was sitting up and speaking with the Atlanta Track Club staff and/or paramedics attending to her. There were quite a few potholes and depressed manholes on this course. I definitely paid more attention to the road surface for the rest of today's race.   

Just ahead of me I saw 75-year-old Sam Benedict. Sam is still a strong runner, and he was on his way to another age group win. Sam often runs a similar pace as me, but I realized that I was going to catch up with him and probably pass him today. With a "Click!" the competitive switch in my brain turned ON. I said "Hi Sam" as I passed him as we turned a corner. Mile 4: 9:42. I had not gone into today's race with much of a plan, since I wasn't really racing. But as the miles progressed, I was feeling good, and had already decided that it would be fun to speed up a bit once I passed the mile 4 marker. At 39:30 it was time to take a walk break. But I had just strongly passed Sam Benedict. How would it look if I took a walk break now? So I just kept running, hoping that I was strong enough to finish the last mile without a walk break. We were now running due south on Adams Street. My watch was showing ca. 8:20 min / mile pace, which I felt was sustainable for 8 minutes or so. I was passing quite a few walkers in the 5K group, and also occasionally passing some runners that I think were in the 5-mile race. I remember passing one man wearing orange sleeves who definitely was in the 5-mile race. Although I was moving quite a bit faster than marathon goal pace, I kept my mechanics solid. My increased effort was well-controlled, and I definitely wasn't going all out. We passed a large cemetery to our left, as the man with orange sleeves caught up to me and passed. Oh well, I wasn't trying to pass everyone at the end of the race. The watch sounded a walk alert at 44:30, but I totally ignored it. With the run alert at 45:00, I was thinking, just three minutes or so.

There were some hills, but notice the vertical axis:
only about 70 feet difference from lowest to highest elevation. 

At this stage we crossed the same intersection that we had turned on the outbound start. Some of the faster finishers were doing their cooldowns in the opposite direction of our finish. I guess they were able to get out of the finish zone in the MARTA parking lot without crossing the timing mat again. What I notice most is that we were running uphill, again. The finish line must be close, but exactly how far? 2 minutes now? I could see the highway below and to the left. As we made a right turn, it suddenly looked like most of the runners ahead of me sped up. I guess they were excited to approach the finish line, although I could not see any indication of it. After the race, when I checked the Garmin results, I realized that it was me that slowed down, not necessarily that the others sped up. After a block I realized that I must be within a minute of the finish line, and sped up again. One 5-mile runner was trying to encourage the 5K walkers to pick up the pace into the finish. As I passed him, he said "See that guy, kicking my ass?!" I shrugged my shoulders after I passed, trying to signal with body language - 'please don't take it personally'. I imagine that my shrug was too subtle for anyone to see, but I think that his comment was said in good humor. 

Then there was a left turn, and I realized that the finish line was just ahead and to the right. In the last mile, I must have passed the runner who had referred to our "senior group" early in mile 2, since he tapped me on the left elbow, said "Let's go!" I accepted the invitation and launched into a stride toward the finish line. He was making a broader turn, whereas I saw that I could run a perfect tangent to the finish line. The only problem is that I had to squeeze myself between a 5K walker and the right post of the finish banner, but I managed it without colliding into anyone or anything. I looked to my left and the feet of my new competitor crossed the timing mat precisely in synch with my finish. I turned and said out loud "Photo finish!" which was echoed by Atlanta Track Club director Rich Kenah. We exchanged fist bumps but I didn't get his name. We don't show up next to each other in the results since we didn't start together, so I won't be able to figure out his finish time, whether he was faster or slower than me over the 5-mile course. Only then did I stop my watch, but no problem, my official time was 48:12, and my final mile was a solid 8:21. Not earth-shattering but an excellent way to finish out a 5-mile race.  

I'm very happy to see that I passed 22 people net,
in the 1.9 mile stretch between the 5K timing sensor
and the finish line.  

I stood around for awhile to socialize with some of the age group winners and a few other finishers, but soon realized that I still needed to run a little more to ensure that I covered at least 7 miles for the day. My legs were stiff at first, but loosened up quickly enough over 0.78 miles. Now I realize why Coach Carl calls it a "warm-down" instead of a "cool-down".  

This afternoon, Milo was sound asleep, as if he 
had run the 5-mile race this morning. Or maybe
he was just tired because he woke up very early with me. 

January 14, 2023: Livvy's Love 8K Fun Run

I've run the Livvy's Love 8K fun run in 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, and 2020, to support the Hayes' family foundation created to honor the memory of their daughter Olivia "Livvy", who tragically lost her life in a school bus accident in 2008. The in-person race returned this year after a two-year COVID pivot to a virtual-only race. I was trying to decide whether or not to register for the race, and whether it would be separate or a part of a 20-mile long run weekend. Shortly after completing the Red Nose Half Marathon last weekend, I told Bonnie that I wasn't going to run Livvy's Love after all. It took most of this week to recover from the rough race in Columbus. But after I had a good experience with an easy 7-mile medium-long run on rolling hills yesterday morning, I decided to run the race after all. Bonnie and I registered separately yesterday afternoon (Bonnie for the 5K), and I picked up our bibs and T-shirt from Big Peach Running Company in Decatur on the way home from work early yesterday evening. 

Nikki Hayes, Olivia's mother, was working at packet pickup. She immediately recognized me even though it had been 3 years (and I was not wearing running clothes!) and we exchanged a hug in the store. I asked Nikki, "I hope that you don't mind me asking, but ... how old would Livvy be today?" I was thinking college age, but Nikki answered "25 years old; she was age 10 and would have turned 11 the next month." "I've been told that a parent losing a child is the worst loss that a person can experience," and Nikki said "We don't even have a word for this. One loses a spouse, they are a widow, but there isn't a word for this." In that moment, seeing Olivia's photo, stopped in time as a 10-year-old child, we'll never know what her life might have been. I was so relieved that I had decided to run this race this year, no matter that it didn't perfectly fit in my marathon training program.  

I was already scheduled for 4 miles today (3 miles easy and 1 more covering the four strides), so the plan was to run-walk 4 miles with a very easy effort, not racing anyone at all, and then finishing the last mile of the race with the 4 strides, which would match up with a strong finish. My mantra for today was simply to save myself for tomorrow's 20-miler. 

It was a cold and windy January morning this year, but at least the temperature was slightly above freezing, and I never saw any ice on the race route. I wore three layers and carried a chemical handwarmer, as I knew that I would not run fast enough to work up much additional heat. It was a joy to warmly greet Olivia's father Norman, who also remembered me after 3 years. I stretched and then jogged in the parking lot with a couple of very easy loops, did the pre-race warmup with the group (which did leave me a little out of breath!), then walked with Norman to the starting area. There wasn't a big group for the 8K race, 10 finishers total in the results. No one looked anywhere close to my age. We counted down from 5, and then the 8K group started ahead of the 5K group. Olivia's older brother Norm Jr., age 29, began the race with a few of his good friends. Committing to my easy run-walk plan with the first steps, I didn't attempt to keep up with anyone. I had set my watch to 2:00 run, 0:30 walk intervals, and faithfully followed that plan as we worked our way on the Ring Road around the base of the mountain. (It's named for a rebel general. I don't know if or when the park will ever rename the roads, but I propose just calling it the Ring Road, as a non-offensive yet properly descriptive name.) A young woman running the 8K caught up and passed me during a walk break. I easily caught up with her when I resumed running. As I passed, I said "I'm running intervals, so we may be leapfrogging each other today." Sure enough, in my next walk break, she pulled well ahead. I deliberately reined in any thought of trying to keep up with her. About 1 mile into the race, a man close to my age caught up with me. I had no intention of trying to win anything today, and I asked if he was running the 8K. "The 5K" he replied. "And you?" I responded "I'm running the 8K." "More power to you!" he said as we approached the turnaround sign together, running uphill. Before we separated, I pointed out "You'll get to run back downhill! Have a good race!"

Another great thing about being a runner: 
seeing beautifully colorful skies at sunrise!

The sky had heavy clouds when we had arrived, but by the time that the race started, the clouds were beginning to clear, and the sun was beginning to provide a few rays of natural warmth. I settled into a comfortable routine, amongst other people who were apparently on their regular Saturday morning run or walk around the mountain, as most of the people that I saw weren't wearing race bibs. My splits for the first four miles were 11:27, 11:38, 11:50, and 11:13. I wasn't really trying to speed up in the fourth mile, but happily my legs and body finally warmed up enough so that the effort remained easy even though my pace slightly increased. After the trouble with elevated heart rate in last weekend's half marathon, I was very satisfied to see only high 120's beats per minute every time that I checked my watch, a "Zone 2 sub-aerobic" workout to this stage. 

Blue corresponds to the walk breaks;
yellow, orange, and red mark the strides,
followed by a push to the finish line. 

Around the 4-mile mark, I had caught up with the woman again, while she was walking. I tried to be encouraging, "Just a mile to go, we're almost done!" I didn't tell her that I was about to begin a series of strides as part of a training plan, and I hope that she didn't feel like I was trying to show her up. When the next walk break sounded, instead of walking, I began the first stride, 15 seconds of increased effort. I was running uphill, not exactly the best place to run a stride, but I thought of it as a short hill repeat. Then I slowed back down to an easy jog for 2+ minutes, until the next walk break alert, another 15-second stride uphill. Cresting the hill, it was now net downhill to the finish line. In two more minutes, I was running down a fairly steep hill when the alert sounded for the third stride, where I reached top speed for the day at 7.5 mph. I remembered how badly I had strained a quadriceps muscle five years ago foolishly running downhill for a mile as fast as possible, so I was very careful today, slowing down as soon as I had completed a 15-second count. 

The last stage of this race is uphill. As I made the last turn, an alert sounded for the fourth stride, so I picked up my pace for another 15 seconds. I saw no runners ahead of me, no one was close behind me. But with the race organizers cheering for me as soon as they saw me coming, I felt that it would be bad form to just easily jog into the finish, so I didn't slow down very much. About 100 feet from the finish line, I heard Nikki Hayes cheer "Go Frank!" and that encouragement helped me finish strongly, crossing the finish line just under 56 minutes. I thanked the people gathered at the finish line. I was just a bit out of breath from that last little push, the only time that I exceeded 150 bpm during today's race, but very satisfied with my pace discipline, and with preserving my energy for tomorrow's long run. Today's easy run was just enough to lubricate the hinges and knock off any rust, without adding any wear-and-tear. That will come tomorrow....

Rolling hilly route, fairly similar to any random five-mile stretch of
next month's Publix Atlanta marathon course. 

After Bonnie finished the 5K, we both ducked into the heated tent to get warm coffee (so good!) and to wait for the awards ceremony. I saw Nikki Hayes carrying a young girl, and by the especially affectionate way she carried the child, I felt like that was her granddaughter. Indeed, that was correct, in fact Nikki and Norman had two young granddaughters at today's race. I congratulated each of them on this happy news, hopefully two bright spots in their lives during the past three challenging years of the pandemic. I know that no one can never replace their daughter, but I felt a lot of joy to know that Olivia's older siblings were now parents/aunts/uncles to their next generation. 

I had not come to win anything, but I wanted to respect the Hayes family in the likely event that I had won my age group by default. The Hayes family gave out the 5K awards, then a special award for the oldest participant. As Norman Hayes called the name of an older Hayes relative (not sure if he was Norman's uncle or his father, but 72 years young), I whispered to Bonnie "I was afraid that I was going to win that award!" Olivia's grandparents and godparents were also among those honored as attending the event this morning. Then it was time for the 8K awards. Nikki gave a very gracious introduction to Bonnie and me as regular participants, before she called out my name as the winner of the men's 50 - 99 age group! (Full disclosure, I was both first and last place in my age group!)  

January 7, 2023: The Red Nose Half Marathon

I ran this race on a frigid windy morning in 2017, and enjoyed the experience despite the wintry conditions. I didn't expect that it would be 6 years before I returned to Columbus. When I set up the training plan with Coach Carl, he suggested racing a half-marathon as a checkpoint run at this stage, and with 7 weeks to go, this race perfectly fit the plan. 

The rest of the blog post will describe what I did right, and what I did wrong. Spoiler alert: there is a lot more red ink than blue in this post! I am writing this nearly a week after the race, after having some time to reflect on the experience. The main purpose in documenting right / wrong is to learn from this unexpectedly difficult race, with the marathon date rapidly approaching. I also had a "therapy" session with Carl on Zoom on Wednesday and he was sincere and very encouraging. He suggested that I also remember all of the workouts and long runs that have gone well in this training cycle, including a decent speedwork session on the track three days after the half-marathon described in this post.  

_____________________________

Friday evening pre-race dinner:
Bonnie and Stephanie, support crew;
runners Susie, Rebecca, Kimberly, Donna, Frank

Saturday pre-race in the Marriott hotel lobby,
not taking ourselves too seriously

We arrived in Columbus Friday evening, had dinner around 7 pm with a few friends from Tucker Running Club, and went to bed early, before 10 pm. With an 8 am race start just a mile or two from our hotel, I awakened around 5 am. As typical on most mornings, my 60-year-old legs were sore, so I did some yoga stretches in the hotel room and that helped a lot. I also managed to go "number 2" at the hotel and didn't think about that any more before the race. With temperatures forecast in the mid-30's at the start but potentially rising to 50 degrees over the next two hours, I decided to wear a single-layer long-sleeved shirt (the 2017 race shirt!), tights, and a cap, to maximize comfort from start to finish. The blue shorts with the pockets held three UCAN packets. To run faster, I decided not to carry a water bottle. We met up with the other Tucker runners at their hotel at 7:15 am, and then I jogged about 2 blocks to the start. From 7:30 - 7:55 am, I hung out with other runners that I knew from Atlanta, which was nice (but I didn't introduce myself to anyone from Columbus). 

Here are just a few among the big crew
that came to Columbus from metro Atlanta 

Tucker Running Club
+ Sue Landa between Kimberly and Donna

While the socializing was a great side-benefit from running, that meant that I didn't run one easy mile beforehand, and/or didn't run any strides to work the heart rate up and down before the race. I told Bonnie the day before that I would make a sub-2 hour attempt, and didn't think realistically about my current conditioning based on recent results. I figured that I would start with the 2:05 pacer, and then I planned to work up to a negative split to catch up with the 2:00 pacer before the finish line. I ignored the 9:33 min / mi pace on the back side of the 2:05 pacer's sign. I ignored that my comfortable starting pace was more like 10 min / mi pace, and walked past the 2:15 pacer. I was bent over making sure that my shoelaces were tightly tied, so I wasn't paying attention when the airhorn suddenly sounded for the official race start. Walking with the 2:05 pacer to the start, we then began running. 

The airhorn has just sounded to start the race!
One of these men would win the race. 

In the middle of the pack, but 
already in front of the 2:05 pacer.

I felt good keeping up with the pacer for the first half-mile at a 9:05 min / mile pace. But I had forgotten to set the run : walk 4:30 / 0:30 intervals on my watch. About 6 minutes in, I heard the voice of Carl: "too much walking late in a race usually means that there wasn't enough walking earlier in the race" and I took a walk break. But only for about 15 seconds, then I sprinted to catch up with the pacer. Relying on my Garmin watch, the mile 1 alert sounded at 9:09 elapsed, but we actually passed the mile marker around 9:25.  

The pacer was adjusting in the right direction so I decided to run the second mile with him, taking walk breaks approximately every 5 minutes or so, then sprinting to catch back up to the pacer. I was aware that we were running downhill (south toward the river) so I rationalized that it was OK to run a little faster. A left turn and then another left turn a block put us closer to the river. Mile 2: 9:02. The number was too fast but I didn't feel it, having confidence out of balance with my preparation that I could keep this up for awhile. 

I read that the race would have Water and Frost Gatorade on course at Mile 2 (water only), Mile 3.75, Mile 5, Mile 6, Mile 9, Mile 10 & Mile 11.5, so I got the ridiculous idea that I didn't want the weight of a water bottle to slow me down. The first water stop was near the Mile 2 marker, but the cup was only about 1/5 full, and I didn't stop to get another cup.   

The pacer had walked through the water stop. Since I had enough time to catch up to and pass him, he had probably walked for a full minute, but he soon caught up with me. With every walk break, I was losing the pacer, so after only 15 - 20 seconds of walking, I would sprint to try to catch up with him. By the end of mile 3 (9:19), I was consistently lagging behind the pacer and that really bothered me. When we made a steeper downhill turn to get to the bluff adjacent to the river, I caught up with the pacer by running more quickly downhill. It got into my head that I would regain all of that elevation on the return trip. Then I tried out my mantra "relax and glide" and that led to another mantra "your race, your pace." Kimberly Harrell was running ahead of me, and I focused on keeping her in sight, not wanting to slip too far back. In mile 4, on the riverwalk, I enjoyed looking out at the fog rising from the Chattahoochee River. We momentarily turned away from shore, up a small hill, which I embraced with positive energy, knowing that later I would get to run downhill in the other direction. The next water station was better, I took a UCAN packet and was given half a cup of Gatorade, and drank that down while walking. Mile 4 (9:19).  

Sunrise over the Chattahoochee River

Stephanie accomplished a half-marathon 
of cheering and cowbell, at least
two full hours of race support.

I knew ahead of time that Bonnie and a friend from Tucker Running Club, Stephanie, would be cheering for us about 4-1/2 miles into the route, so I was looking forward to seeing them soon. Before long, I heard Stephanie banging enthusiastically on a cowbell as Kimberly passed, so I picked up the pace to get there more quickly. It was great to accept hand-slaps from Stephanie and Bonnie with a big smile as I passed without slowing down, wanting to "look good for the ladies." I was beginning to gain just a bit of ground on Kimberly, feeling more confident that I would catch up to and pass her in time. Mile 5 (9:18). Yet I knew that the pacer was well in front of me and that bothered me. Nevertheless I took a walk break through the next water station. I had planned to alternate water and Gatorade, so this time I accepted water, which was a more generous pour than a few miles ago.

Smiling, but
surprisingly sweaty at just 4 miles in

Hand-slap with Stephanie

Hand-slap with Bonnie

Despite falling behind a bit, I was mostly enjoying the run. The only concern was that my heart rate was reading high, 160 bpm as early the first half-mile. I have a new Garmin watch (thanks Bonnie!) so I didn't trust the reading. I tightened the band to improve contact with skin. Then since it was cold, I rubbed a bit of spit under the watch to improve conductance. But the Garmin was recording a heart rate reading 180 bpm by mile 5. Maybe it was because I had been excited to see Bonnie, but I still didn't trust the Garmin reading. 

We were crossing a bridge in the sixth mile when I began to feel dizzy. It felt like the bridge was very gently but perceptively bouncing up and down. I rationalized that it was the other runners in cadence causing the vibration. But then I was getting nauseous from the bouncing. I've never had a problem with motion sickness, so I decided it was time to take another walk break. The bouncing continued. Then we were off of the bridge. And the bouncing continued on solid land. Uh-oh. I had not checked my heart rate when the bridge had begun bouncing, but when I finally checked, my heart rate was 188 bpm.  

My 60-year-old heart should never beat that fast, unless I'm about the cross a finish line. Or on occasion with Bonnie....  But I decided that I better take a nice long walk break. Mile 6 (10:33). I was disappointed that the 2-hour finish wasn't going to happen today. But I began running again after the heart rate had dropped below 150 bpm. Unfortunately it would rise again after just a couple of minutes of running. Feeling badly about myself, I would finally give in and take another walk break. That continued for several miles: mile 7 (9:53), where I took the second UCAN packet - but I had no water! There was a turnaround at mile 7.55 at 1:12:46 elapsed (9:38 min / mile average pace), and then mile 8 (9:42). David Bloomquist had passed me immediately after the turnaround. I couldn't properly verbally acknowledge him, just waved and muttered "Go ahead".

I had started to fill some lower GI fullness. By mile 9, I began to worry that I would crap my pants at any moment. And that finally slowed me down to a reasonable pace (10:27). As each runner passed me, I was obsessed with negative thoughts. Which runner would be the 2:10 pacer? Eventually Ms. 2:10 passed me. I felt badly about myself for a moment, then let that go. It was much more important to focus mental energy on keeping the sphincter closed! I survived mile 10 (12:19) and mile 11 (12:04), taking my last UCAN packet with the mile 10 water station. Bonnie and Stephanie were waiting just past mile 11. And at the same spot, there was a large restroom facility at the "Rotary Club Park". 

Should I stay or should I go? I seriously considered stepping off the course and relieving myself in the restroom. Then I began obsessing about how it would be worse if I discovered that the bathrooms were locked, or if there was no toilet paper. And what did I say earlier about looking good for the ladies? Nothing wrong with a bathroom stop, but it wasn't gonna be a quickie. There was always the possibility that I might just quit if I stopped, or that it would be very difficult to get the old legs moving again. As I slowly approached, Stephanie held out her hand for a hand-slap, but I was feeling too negatively to return the gesture (I apologized to Stephanie afterwards). I did grab Bonnie's hand but I was grabbing for support, just the opposite of a confident or joyous hand-slap. 

One of the few times I ran - albeit slowly -
in mile 12.

Stephanie is encouraging me -
but I'm too grouchy to hold out my hand.

At least I was no longer dizzy. My heart rate was still recording in the 170's whenever I ran, so I was walking a lot. It was easier to keep the sphincter closed when I walked, but then I obsessed about the increased amount of time I would have to hold things together. I recognized Sue Landa after she passed me. I decided to speed up and run with her for awhile. I reminisced out loud about running for 5 - 6 miles in Brooklyn with her in the 2018 New York City Marathon. "When I saw you in mile 3, I didn't know you that well. By the time we separated in mile 8, you were a friend for life." I suppose I didn't want to leave this world without a last gasp of a kind word, that was how badly I was feeling. Now it was my GI tract instead of my heart that was my concern, so I suppose my risk was now only dying from embarrassment. I couldn't keep up with Sue, and dropped back to a walk. A few minutes later, a big group approached, with the 2:15 pacer at the front. My head was down, I felt defeated. Rebecca Ludwig was running with that pace group, and was kind enough to slow down and ask how I was doing. "Not good," I replied. But I began running again, although I was disappointed that I couldn't keep up with Rebecca either. Mile 12 (13:23), my slowest mile of the day. 

When I saw the mile 12 sign, I thought: "Only 10    11    12    13 minutes to the finish!" Not so close after all. In the meantime, Alice Pate and Caroline Dunn caught up with me. I had taken a walk break, so they opened up a gap in front of me. But my lower GI tract wasn't acting too badly, so I cautiously tried to speed up. Caroline's husband Paul had already finished and was cheering all of us on. He shouted "You have one big hill to climb and then you're done!" And upon turning the corner: I saw Mt. Columbus. I said out loud "$&#f*@!" (apologies to all who heard me swear on the course) but I turned on my best possible hill sprint short stride, and it was only a short block to the top. I turned north onto a level street. Paul asked how I was doing, and I blurted out "I just @?&!$#* want to finish." Dropping the F-bomb as a cheap comedic trick elicited the desired laughs from those around me, but I apologize again, that was really not appropriate, although it did seem to spur me on. I felt badly about dashing past Caroline and Alice shortly after they had passed me while I was limping along the Riverwalk, but I desperately needed to get to a porta-potty and surely one was waiting for me on the other side of the timing mat at the finish line. Mile 13 (11:38). One last turn, there was the finish line, and I dashed ahead with one last "burst" of speed, although my final sprint pace was only 8:19.

"Where's the porta-potty?"

I made it across both timing mats without slowing down, then suddenly stopped and that caused me to stumble to the side, although I caught myself well before falling. I accepted a medal from a volunteer; I think that I managed to mumbled some thanks, but I was now totally focused on the urgent business of finding a porta-potty. By the way, my finish time was 2:18:36 but I could not have cared less at that moment. The nearest porta-potty was a block away, but I perfectly walked the tangents to reach my target spot by the shortest possible route. Fortunately several stalls were open, and no one was waiting. The one that I selected was surprisingly clean even though more than 3 hours had passed since runners had first gathered for the start. Close the door, lock the door, and then...... the relief. I just sat on the can for a few minutes, regaining some mental rationality. I had totally blown off looking for Bonnie, but she texted me "Where are you?" I responded "Coming back   I needed to poop for the last hour". When I got back to Bonnie and the rest of the Tucker Running Club, nearly all of whom had finished ahead of me, I saw that they were all smiling and laughing as I returned, so Bonnie had obviously shared our private communication. Fortunately I felt much better by then, so I was able to laugh with them.   

The rest of the Tucker finishers kindly waited for me 
to return so that we could get this photograph!

I was even able to clown around
while walking to the car, mimicking
the statue child catching raindrops.

Lunch with Tucker Running Club. 
Rebecca was our first finisher - congratulations! 
To our surprise, Kimberly paid for us all - thanks! 

_________________________

Thanks to the Columbus Road Runners for putting on another great race, thanks to friends on the course who checked on me and cheered for me especially when I wasn't performing well, and many thanks to Coach Carl for helping me regain some confidence after the race. I really appreciate that Carl proactively reached out by e-mail after I had posted on Strava, "Rough race: perfect conditions, excellent course, not-so-great runner."

Carl wasn't sure that it was the absence of a warm-up that caused my heart rate to rise too quickly. Since I had not really tapered in the midst of marathon training, perhaps the 9-minute/mile pace for more than five miles was too much for me at that moment in the training cycle, but might not be a problem after the remaining weeks of training including a three-week taper. He speculated that the elevated heart rate could have resulted in gastrointestinal upset. I read a little about this, and what happens when the involuntary sympathetic nervous system kicks in due to stress: 

(link to article)

January 1, 2023: Resolution Run 5K

Eight weeks to go until the Publix Atlanta Marathon! I'm now in the tough part of the training. I ran last weekend's 20-miler on one of the coldest days in years, starting at 18 deg F at 11 am and finishing at 24 deg F around 3 pm. I don't feel like I've completely recovered. Thank goodness that this has been a "recovery week" so my "long run" for today was just 8 miles total. 

Listening to my body, I wasn't going to have any trouble complying with the "easy effort" prescription. And while it was more difficult than usual to get out of bed and get ready for a race this morning, the 8-mile total wasn't an issue. Bonnie and I arrived more than an hour before the 5K start, picked up our bibs. While it would have been nicer if I had socialized a bit more before the race, I was determined to get in some warm-up miles. I planned to run at least three miles beforehand, figuring that it didn't matter too much how I split up the miles if I wasn't pushing it in the race. Despite several minutes of dynamic stretching before I started, I felt really "rusty" this morning. I completed an easy run-walk loop around Piedmont Park, including the third mile of today's 5K race route, plus a couple of miles out-and-back on the Eastside Beltline. That totaled 3.4 miles before the race, and I felt a little better. 

warm-up route

I caught up with Brian Minor before the race, and made it very clear that I wasn't racing this morning, just trying "not to get hurt" and that for me at this time "everything is about marathon training." We both lined up at the back of wave B. After the airhorn sounded for our wave, it took a full minute to get to the starting line. Our favorite MC, Ronell Blackman, was announcing today's race, and I gave him a high-five right after crossing the timing mat. With a crowded wave in front of me, it was slow going, but exactly the type of patient start I needed to practice for the marathon. To my surprise, Brian and I "leapfrogged" a couple of times in the first mile. He was trying 4:30 run / 0:30 walk intervals. I had decided to try running straight through, but was keeping my effort easy. It helped that the first mile was mostly uphill, working our way around the higher side of the Active Oval before exiting Piedmont Park at the 14th Street gate, and continuing uphill on Piedmont Road past the mile 1 marker (+48 feet ascent). By just maintaining a steady effort and not forcing anything, I finished mile 1 in 9:58, close to my goal conservative start pace for the upcoming marathon. 

After passing the Botanical Gardens entrance at The Prado, we had a nice long downhill run. I passed Brian here, joking that "maybe we are racing after all" but within a few seconds, Brian had moved ahead of me again, and he stayed there for the rest of the run. There was a water stop on Westminster Drive along the north side of the park, and that was my only break, about 30 seconds, then back to running to take advantage of the downhill elevation. We made a loop around the newest section of the park, then the mile 2 alert sounded as we crossed Westminster heading south into the main part of the park. 9:23 for mile 2, thanks to the significant gravity assist (+26 feet ascent, -129 feet descent). 

Race route. Red is faster. 

My goal was to pick up the pace again, to finish the final 1.11 miles on a strong note. I spotted people ahead of me that I knew: Kalpana Patel, then Sue Landa and Alice Pate as we ran past the dog park, Colleen Curran shortly afterwards. I didn't mean to blow past them all, in fact I chatted with everyone but Colleen who happened to slow to a walk as I passed. I would have been happy to run together with any of them, but somehow I found myself getting in front and then I was past. At Park Tavern, a big and enthusiastic cheer group from Atlanta Running Club encouraged us to the finish. I wondered why the Running Club wasn't running ... but then there was the mile 3 marker. 9:17 for mile 3, (+55 feet ascent, -12 feet descent). 

I was determined to finish strongly. Unfortunately my legs were feeling tight so I couldn't really muster a stride. Coach Amy Begley was cheering us at the last turn. I saw Brian ahead of me but I wasn't going to catch up to him. His wife Beverly took his photo as he passed, then Beverly saw me coming and took my photo as well, about 10 seconds later. Crossing the finish line in 29:37 elapsed, I was happy with the progression. My legs were still tight, but I wasn't in pain. It was nothing like my glorious personal best 23:30 run five years ago, but I would have been disappointed if I had tried to run much faster today. Like I said earlier, right now it's all about marathon training, endurance over speed. 

Post-race cool-down.
I'm not sure why there is so much red!  

I collected a bottle of water and a free waffle from Bantam & Biddy. Then I realized that I had better start moving soon before the legs locked up, if I was to complete the 1.6 miles remaining for the day - plus I wanted to get back to the finish line in time to see Bonnie. I made a quick loop through the neighborhood on Monroe Drive, turning left on Park Drive to follow a short section of the marathon route into Piedmont Park, then back and forth between the lake and the main gate to finish the daily mileage. And happily, my legs felt better after completing 8 relatively easy miles than they had when I started earlier this morning. 

Screenshot from Beverly's video

December 10, 2022: The Monday Night Brewing Westside 10-Miler

Marathon training plans rarely go perfectly, in fact I recently heard a podcast with Coach Chris McClung (Rogue Running podcast) who said that he worries with a client hasn't been challenged with adversity somewhere along the way. Makes sense, the 26.2 mile marathon distance offers ample opportunities for adversity. Whenever the first little thing goes wrong, the immediate task is to figure out how to recover or at least to manage for the remaining miles. 

Warmup route: blue is lowest elevation,
red is highest elevation,
near Centennial Olympic Parl

With 11 weeks before the marathon, today's workout was an 18-mile long run. I had registered for this race months ago, so Coach Carl worked it into the plan as an opportunity to practice marathon fueling and perhaps try out a marathon pace for the last 8 - 9 miles of the long run. Fortunately I woke up early enough to park in Westside Atlanta by 6:15 am, and had started my easy initial miles by 6:25 am, hoping that I might get all 8 extra miles run and done before the race. I was hoping to keep my pace around 11:30 min / mi, about 90 seconds slower than possible marathon goal pace. While wearing a Noxgear lighted vest an hour before sunrise, looking toward the towers of midtown Atlanta partially hidden by morning fog, I recalled that if you had asked me if I would make up to run at 6:30 am, I would have probably said "That's crazy!" I ran south on Howell Mill Road to the merger with Marietta Street, and then Marietta to make a loop around Centennial Olympic Park, before returning north on Luckie Street, turning into Tech Parkway at the Georgia Tech campus, a left on Means Street and a quick right turn onto Marietta to return to the starting area. I kept having to consciously slow myself down, but did run fairly conservatively between 10:59 - 11:29 min / mi. I had covered nearly 5 miles over 54 minutes when I stopped at the runningnerds tent near the starting line to pick up my bib, which took just a couple of minutes, then I pinned on the bib. I jogged over to the car to drop off my Noxgear vest, took my first UCAN of today's workout, and then resumed my warmup, running north on Howell Mill and then left on Huff Road to Marietta Boulevard, and back. Tim Parker was setting up cones as this was mile 9 of the route. I had a chance to experience the large hill on "Huff and Puff Road", albeit at easy pace and with only six miles on my legs. I had realized that I wasn't going to get to 8 miles in time for the 8:00 am start of the race (and I can't hurry up when the goal is to run slowly!) but was satisfied to mark 7.38 miles covered. 

Looking toward the start, about 2/3 of the way back. 

It was very important for me to run the first two miles of the race at a conservative pace, as I didn't want to attempt to drop toward marathon pace until I had passed ten miles for the day. In the beginning, the route was crowded enough and I was running a nice 11:30 min / mi pace, but then the route turned downhill, and despite running "with my brakes on", I finished race mile 1 in 10:52. Shortly afterward, we turned left into a neighborhood, and I caught up with Linda Phinney and Donna Roberts. I thought it would be nice to stay with them, but I kept getting a few feet in front. Fortunately they helped me with an 11:01 mile 2, although I had moved in front of them for good before reaching the mile 2 mark. So much for cautiously running with friends, who both routinely run more miles per week than me. Midway through mile 3, there was the water station outside the entrance to Westside Reservoir Park. I pulled out the second UCAN and slowed to a walk, accepting a cup of pink Gatorade and draining the cup before resuming running. For the past 10 minutes, the faster 10K runners have been running the opposite direction; I enter the park as Caroline Dunn is leaving in the opposite direction. We pass through the "bones" marking the entrance gate to the park. A group of men immediately in front of me talk about the "dinosaur bones". Funny, I had always thought of these as representing "whale bones". 

Is it a whale or a dinosaur skeleton? 

Non-runners sometimes ask "What do you think about while you're running?" Well, at that moment I start thinking of whale-song music that was popular in the 1970's, when people began to realize that whales were highly sentient, and were also in danger of extinction. I most recently heard the whale-song at the beginning and end of the first song of Kate Bush's debut album, the song "Moving". The melody of Kate Bush's beautiful soprano voice went through my mind. I don't know all of the words, but the fifth line resonated: 

"Moving liquid, you are just as water,

Flow around all that comes in your way,

Don't think it over, it always takes you over,

And sets your spirit dancing.

How I'm moved, how you move me,

With your beauty's potency,

You give me life, please don't let me go, 

You crush the lily in my soul." 

So it's not really about the movement of a runner, not even sure that it's a love song with that last line! Anyway, I'm musing as we pass the U-turn mark for 10K runners, and we get into a portion of the park that I've never seen. I know that this park has some "disrespectful hills" (to use a memorable term from Brian Minor) and there was a fairly big hill as we passed the mile 3 marker: 10:31, now trying to work down toward goal pace. Fortunately, we turned right instead of climbing another substantial hill. We were moving past a small creek, water quietly moving along the creek thanks to a good amount of rain this week. I chatted with Casey Nicodemus, as we leap-frogged for much of the middle miles of the race. He was wearing short shorts and suspenders with no shirt; I wore two layers, with my NYC Marathon shirt on the top. I knew that I would not be running fast and wanted to stay warm. This was probably my favorite part of the race, enjoying the fall forest and a fairly level paved trail. We exited the park turning right onto Johnson Road; many thanks to the volunteer who continuously held the pedestrian crossing light and directed us into the protected left lane. Mile 4 in 10:39. 

Race route color-coded for elevation, not to pace.
Red is high, blue is low. 

We turned into a new neighborhood: many nice houses, gentle downhill, but after making a right turn, we had to climb what felt like the first really big, disrespectful hill. I wasn't planning to take a walk break until we approached the next water station, but ... I wasn't not racing today, just moving, so I went ahead and took the walk break, counting to 30 seconds. It felt good to reach the top and turn left to rejoin Johnson Road. Natalie Witt is guiding us through the intersection, and calls out "Frank, you look great!" I try to smile but mutter audibly "not feeling that great, sorry". Just in time, there was the water station in the same spot where we had first encountered it in the other direction 20 - 25 minutes earlier. I took another 30 second walk break, but was disappointed that they were serving plain water this time around. Alice Pate saw me coming through the water station, and slowed down to run with me for a few minutes. Unfortunately, looming overhead was a huge uphill climb to Marietta Street, and I couldn't keep up with Alice as she held up her end of the conversation. That hill was seriously disrespectful. I was going to run, run, run, .... walk. Walk. Walk. Alice slowed to walk with me, and asked me what pace I was trying to run. "I had planned to try for 10 min / mile, but today it's impossible." Finally I return to running and feel a second wind! So the walk uphill was the right thing for me today. But about 5 minutes later, I needed another walk break.  I gave in, told Alice to go ahead, I was just going to slow her down, and walked for 2 whole minutes. What I didn't realize until I checked my data hours later is that my heart rate had spiked. It was a good thing that I didn't trip over my ego. I realize that I've run 13 miles so far, and still have 5 miles to go in the second half of the race. On the other hand, it's only the last 5 miles of 18 total! Mile 5, 11:55, 55 minutes elapsed. 

Nearly 200 feet in elevation difference from peak to valley.
A lot of disrespectful hills starting around mile 3. 

We turned left from Marietta Street to run north on Marietta Boulevard. Atlanta street addresses are tricky; it's even worse if the street has Peachtree in the name, over 20 of those streets in metro Atlanta. I returned to running, mostly to get through the busy intersection quickly, following the line directed by two policemen. And now it was downhill as far as I could see. After that slow fifth mile, I wanted to return to attempted marathon pace. Just as I was beginning to get comfortable with a slightly faster pace, we reached the intersection with Huff Road. The 10K runners get to turn right for a 2-mile dash to the finish, while the 10-mile runners go straight. A policeman waves a car through the intersection in front of me, then after the car has cleared, he sees me coming. There is another car southbound on Marietta Blvd that noncommittally moves toward but not into the left turn lane. I assume that the car is going to stop, perhaps even trying to decide if Huff Road is even open to car traffic. I'm moving to the left side of the road so as not to get in the way of any 10K runners. As I approach the policeman, he is holding up his hands toward the car. But I guess he isn't confident that the driver isn't trying to make the turn. The policeman moves forward, into my line. I move a little more to the left, the policeman continues to advance, totally focused on protecting me from the car, but not looking in my direction at all. The policeman begans to run forward, I think about moving even more to the left but he is moving as fast as me. At the last second, I dart to the right, narrowly avoiding an accidental assault on a peace officer. Chrystal Akor is working as a volunteer at the corner with Huff Road and sees the near-miss, then smiles in relief as I safely pass by. Thanks Chrystal! 

Heart rate really spiked about halfway through the race,
and remained high for about 30 minutes,
until I took a few more walk breaks. 

I'm not paying attention to my heart rate, just trying to maintain a good pace downhill. I'm dwelling on the near-miss with law enforcement, if you want to know what this runner is thinking about during a race. Mile 6 is 10:51 but that included a minute or so of walking after passing the mile 5 marker. Casey Nicodemus is ahead of me in the distance; I never caught up to him. I wished that I was running closer to 10 min / mile than 11 min / mile. I tried to speed up a bit. That carried me for awhile, although I realized that I should have taken my last UCAN by now. So as we turned right onto Carroll Drive, I slowed to a walk break and took the UCAN. Fortunately I carried a bottle of Nuun on my running belt, so I washed it down in the absence of a water station. Mile 7 is 10:34, which I think is better especially since I took the short walk break for nutrition and hydration. Just three miles to go, trying for 10 minute / mile for the rest of the route. 

However, my pace really suffered in the second-half of the race. 

We got to the bottom of the hill, turned right onto Chattahoochee Avenue. I saw the nets of Top Golf up ahead, but we're running uphill, and it was really difficult. I'm walking uphill, tried to run for a moment, nope, walking again. Then who else but Kate Bush came to the rescue! It was her hit from the mid-1980's "Running Up That hill". It's probably her best-known song, although as one of her early avant-garde fans (I'm speaking of myself, LOL) I never really cared for the song. But the words are memorable: 

"If I only could, I'd make a deal with God,

And I'd get him to swap out places, 

Running up that road, running up that hill,

With no problem." 

I focused on that last line, "With no problem" and pushed myself to run up that hill to the right turn onto Ellsworth Industrial Road. I took a walk break at the last water station, serving pink Gatorade, thank goodness. Returning to a run, I make my way south on Ellsworth. At one point I caught up with a man in a gray shirt, then ran with him for a few minutes. He asked "May I ask how old you are?" I responded "60" thinking that he was a decade younger, only hear here him reply "I'm 66." Wow, I think, he looks younger than me. I'm wearing a cap so he can't really tell that I'm bald in front. We exchanged names. Martin recently ran the Alaska Marathon in Anchorage, very well-run, and may run a marathon in Oklahoma City in April with his daughter, to honor the many people murdered in the Federal Building bombing in 1995. Mile 8, 12:30. Afterwards, I saw that my heart rate dropped back to a more normal rate, about 160 bpm. A combination of the water station and Kate Bush calmed me down, I think. 

After a few minutes of running together with Martin, I had to take a walk break, as we began to go uphill. I told Martin "Go ahead, I'll see you at the finish." He replies "You'll catch up" and I correct myself with a more realistic "Maybe". (I never caught up to him.) The hill became quite steep; I remembered racing downhill in the opposite direction several years ago. Up ahead I saw Tim Parker, near the same location as before. "Hi Tim! Not feeling as good as when I saw you two hours ago." Tim smiled and tried to encourage me as I passed, then making the left turn onto Huff Road. Chrystal Akor had moved to this intersection, cheering me on with a big smile. Huff Road is downhill in this section, and I remembered it from the warmup run. But my legs can't take advantage of the favorable elevation drop, and I say as much to a man who catches up to me at this stage. He seems to be struggling as much as me at this point. Also he may be in my age group, not that I really care today. We reach the trough on Huff Road. Now it's a pretty big uphill on "Huff and Puff Road." I haven't made it far uphill before I must slow to a walk break. I thought that I was ready for this after my warm-up run. Nope, walking for a full minute. My watch is showing a 15 min / mile pace since the last mile alert. Then Kate Bush tugged at my heart again, "I'm running up that hill, with no problem" and I started running. Am I making a deal with God? After a few minutes, I take a walk break, but my deal is to count to 30 and then force myself to resume running. I've now completed mile 9, 14:14. Wow, that was rough. 

Album cover from "Hounds of Love", 1985. 
I think I had a "celebrity crush" on Kate Bush back in the day. 
Maybe I still do, considering how much I've listened
to her music in the past year. And today while writing this blog post..
link to New Yorker article from 2018

A group of three people caught up to me and passed me. We made the left turn onto Howell Mill Road. Less than a mile to the finish, and there was just one more uphill. Two of the people that had passed me raise their hands and take a "Galloway walk-break." So close to the end! I'm running slowly but I'm not gonna walk, no way. The four of us reached the section of Howell Mill where police are waiting to help us to cross the road from the left lane onto Trabert Street, for the final turn of the race. We all slowed down, the policeman assured us that we're good to cross. At the top of Trabert Street, I know and everyone else who has ever run this race knows that it's downhill all the way to the finish. But how far? I probably surprise the others by suddenly increasing my speed. I stay to the far left of the narrow lane, as I don't want to impede anyone who may try to pass me, that's not fair. In my head, I switch one word in Kate Bush's lyric: "I'm running down that hill, with no problem." That sounds pretty good at that moment. And I continue to push myself to speed up, topping out at 7.3 mph. Just last week I ran 9.4 mph at the finish of the one-mile race. As I finally see the finish line, the clock shows 1:51 and change. The race photographer captures my photos as I cross the timing mat. I smiled as I saw him (and will post the photo if / when it's publically available) and avoided stopping my watch until I passed him. 1:51:37, as I started 30 - 45 seconds after the official start. 

I thought that it might take me 1:50 to finish if I ran consistent 11 min / miles.
I got close enough to that time, but not the way that I had planned.  

I saw Tes Marshall standing next to a table past the finish line, waved to her. She asked "How did it go?" My one-word answer: "Humbling." She and I laughed, as I bent over with my hands on my knees. Then I remembered that I still had most of one mile left to run. I wanted to hang out at the post-race party, and realized after I got home that I failed to pick up my race shirt. But I knew that if I didn't continue moving, and soon, that I wasn't going to finish the 18-mile workout. There was no chance of me winning an award: at least I hope not, that would be embarrassing. If I didn't move, I might even stiffen up so badly that I couldn't get back to my car later on. So I started up that hill, started my watch. Tried to run, made a deal with God to walk most of the hill. Near the top, Donna Roberts was working her way downhill. "Great job Donna, you're almost done, 1/3 of a mile!" Near the top at the intersection with Howell Mill, I began slowly running again, then stopped to catch my breath before attempting to cross. The police were eagerly encouraging me to cross, I realized that they were signaling in both directions for cars to slow, so I got across the road as quickly as I could. It was a slow walk-jog up Howell Hill. Linda Bode Phinney passed, I waved, but she asked "Are you OK?" I guess I must have looked quite beaten up. I replied, "Thanks, yes, just very sore all over." 

It was a relief to get back to the car, which was a little further than I had expected. But I covered a total of 18.08 miles today, so that was mission accomplished. I'm definitely taking an off day from running tomorrow, maybe an easy walk in the evening. Although everything hurts this evening, nothing hurts more than anything else, so I think that I've escaped injury. And I got that rough workout out of the way in this training cycle. Hopefully I will learn, adapt, and resume training while learning from this timely dose of humility. With 11 weeks to go until the marathon, I still have plenty of time to continue preparing - unlike my students taking the fall semester 2022 CHEM 203 final exam within 48 hours. 

At least all of these numbers are pretty good for me, 
in the midst of marathon training.