Race #182
Marathon #12
2020 Race #2
2020 Marathon #1
Georgia Marathon #2
State #7 (repeat state)
Atlanta Marathon #1

What an amazing weekend! I will save the travelogue recap of Saturday with the race expo and the Olympic Marathon Trials for several weeks from now when I finish the travelogues from this summer. (The photos do not go in order of the race. I have no idea where the photographers took them.)

Back to the race itself. As I discussed last week, I changed my plan for the race. Although, after watching all the amazing performances from the Trials competitors, so many women (and some of them pregnant!), it reignited the competitive drive in me. Good thing I have Ottawa coming up in a few months. I have some big goals for that race.

Bright and early race day morning we woke up with enough time to take the 20+ minute MARTA ride to the start line. Thankfully we made our not so smooth maneuver the previous day. (More to come on that front in the travelogue. Stay tuned.) I wore my new gear, purchased the day before, not usually recommended but it worked out well in the end.

We arrived with just enough time to use the portopotties and drop off our gear at gear check before walking over to Corral C. I had a Corral B bib but started in C with Mom, or at least attempted to. When we tried to enter, no one inside the packed space would or could move which resulted in quite a few people including us, getting shoved out of the way. Only after Corral B moved up to their start did the volunteers at the front of C move forward and give some room for everyone to enter.

The announcers told us as we walked to the start line that five of the six Olympic team members had come down to the start to cheer us on. Even before the announcer listed the names I knew that the non-present team member was Galen Rupp. I hope he had a good reason for not coming.

At 7:05am we started. I felt amazing for the first half but not right away. Within the first mile I engaged in mental battle with the negative thoughts, determined to feed the good wolf. Later in the race I told Mom to feed the good tiger and wondered why that sounded strange.

After the first mile I settled into our pace and felt good physically. I had thoughts about trying to bring Mom in under four hours or to help her qualify for Boston. Most of the first two three mile segments I spent rundreaming (a term of my own creation since daydreaming does not really describe how my mind works on the run.) At the third mile, a little after actually since we had to make our way from the left of the crowded field to the right before we walked, we walked to fuel but did not walk for long.

Mile 1: 9:10
Mile 2: 8:56
Mile 3: 9:08

We picked the pace back up and still felt great. Shortly after we started running again the official four hour pace group passed us and we found ourselves engulfed in a massive pack of people in the pace group. A handful of times we also had to maneuver around some Team Hoyt racers.

I could tell that our pace would not keep us near the four hour pacer but it also would not put us too far behind. I started imagining how I might raise enough money for a charity bib so I could run with Mom in Boston. Thanks to this rundreaming, the second set of three miles passed almost without notice.

Mile 4: 10:05
Mile 5: 9:12
Mile 6: 8:56

The next couple miles also passed without incident until around mile 8. A spectator started cheering, telling us we were almost there. For the half marathoners that’s a stretch. For the marathoners? Just cruel. I did shout back something about some of us being marathoners but we had already passed her so I have no idea if she heard me.

I still felt strong, specifically in my glutes which felt like powerhouse springs for my legs. I also had not looked at my Garmin, and would not until we finished. I could tell from the lap alert that give or take a hundredth or two, my Garmin matched the mile marker.

Mile 7: 9:55
Mile 8: 9:07
Mile 9: 9:00

After completing a slightly easier obstacle course to get to the right of the course to fuel at mile 9, we resumed running shortly after. Mom asked me how I did it. How I did what? Managed the mental load with so much left to run? I honestly had not even let myself think about that at all. A few times I had almost let myself know how many miles I had left to run but shut it down before I could complete the computation so I did not know exactly what to tell her except to focus on the current three mile section, not anything else.

When Mom asked this question, I knew that my job had shifted. I made my goal getting Mom to the finish line. That meant that when she needed to make a pit stop somewhere in mile 11 at one of the water stops, we stopped. (I also needed that particular stop which worked out nicely.)

We started running again in a near finish line atmosphere. Since the majority of the people around us ran the half, they finished soon. Mom still struggled with mental stamina and wondered out loud about her ability to finish. I knew that she could potentially drop at the half but that would mean no official finish so I held off saying anything for about a mile; I did not want to introduce anything even close to negativity.

Mile 10: 10:00
Mile 11: 12:25 (first pit stop)
Mile 12: 9:41

Then Mom mentioned that she needed another pit stop. I knew those took a lot out of her and wanted to give her the choice while she still had it. I introduced the option but did not pressure her, at least not until I saw the end of the split between the half and the full. She decided to go for it with me. I knew for sure then that I had one goal, get Mom to the finish.

When the half broke off from the full to head into Centennial Park and the full turned the opposite direction, the crowd support vanished leaving us in what felt like a ghost town. I had flashbacks to the other Georgia marathon I ran, RnR Savannah in 2012. Just like that one, we headed out of the city after the half finished and faced a much harder portion of the course. I overheard someone at the start mention that the first half had around 500 feet of elevation change while the second half held over 1200. Why couldn’t we just run a loop course?

We finished mile 14 after another pit stop in some glorious portopoties. (Not really. Mom just called them glorious when she saw them in the distance after waiting for some to appear.) Around this time I started to feel the distance in my glutes. I found this perplexing since those same glutes made me feel so strong at the start. I didn’t feel tired or sore anywhere else so I pushed that aside and kept my focus on my main goal.

Mile 13: 10:05
Mile 14: 12:47 (second pit stop)
Mile 15: 9:52

Mom told me after our fuel stop at mile 15 that she didn’t know if she could do it and should have stopped at the half. I went into full scale positive talk mode. I told her to focus only on the three mile segments and think of nothing else. I kept telling her that she could do it.

Through those next three miles I did not feel great but I did feel good enough to encourage Mom to through a mental tow rope around me and let me pul lher up the seemingly never ending hills.

She asked to walk at about mile 17.5 but I told her that we had almost reached a fuel stop, one of the two times in the second half that I denied her request to walk. I had noticed that my legs actually preferred the running motion over walking and at that point wanted to combine walking times if we could. By this point, actually since the first pit stop, my Garmin started measuring long, anywhere between one and two tenths off. I flipped it over to the HR screen to ignore it completely.

Mile 16: 11:06
Mile 17: 10:37
Mile 18: 10:08

As we passed mile 18, I started to recognize my surroundings. I have visited only one area of Atlanta frequently, old Turner Stadium. I told Mom what we passed and then started to doubt myself when I saw Georgia State (I think) logos. Then I saw “Hank Aaron Drive” on one of the gates and figured out that a year must not provide enough time to change all the signage.

Apart from old Turner Stadium and running past Ebeneezer Street Baptist Church, Spellman College, and Morehouse University, the second half held very little in the way of scenic views or attractions. In fact, the course on the second half felt more like we were running in a podunk half marathon than a big city marathon, one that advertises itself as Running City and this particular weekend as America’s Marathon Weekend.

I told Mom that we could start walking every mile. She welcomed that suggestion. As that three mile section progressed Mom started to feel worse and asked if we could walk a little more often. Whatever it takes. I knew how we were in a slog to the finish, especially as my legs increased the volume of their protest when we walked and then started again. I knew, however, that I felt much better than Mom and used this time to begin my reacquaintance with the pain cave, one of the missing pieces to my marathon performance I think.

Mile 19: 11:27
Mile 20: 10:57
Mile 21: 12:36

By the time we reached mile 21, Mom seriously considered walking the rest of the way. While I hoped that she could run at least a little, I told her that I would support her and get her to that finish line. She then amended her request to, at least on the uphills of which the remaining five miles had plenty. At least twice during this section we had an uphill, a turn, and then more uphill. The second time this happened Mom started to spiral so I countered with positivity. The third turn always brought a downhill and sure enough, the downhill came on the third turn. This race gave me a good workout on my positivity muscle.

Also in this section we encountered the most ridiculous portion of the course. At one of the many colleges we passed, we entered the gate, ran over grass(!) and onto the track before running over grass again to exit the track, ran down the parallel street before making a tight turn to run right back up that same street. I could not believe that we had something eerily similar to Hilton Head’s parking lot tour in a big city marathon.

We continued to make our way slowly but surely towards that finish line, every step drawing us closer. I told that refrain to Mom a few times too, encouraging her to take advantage of any of the rare flat portions of the course.

The one bright spot of the second half of the course came in the way of the best spectator ever. (Apparently all of the people who came out to spectate the Trials forgot about the marathon for normal people the next day because we had next to no crowd support.) This girl yelled genuine support and encouragement with a voice hoarse from the effort. Her enthusiasm infected us and put smiles on our faces and on the faces of all the women around us. To top it off, we saw her a couple miles later. She walked across a bridge that passed overhead, recognized us and shouted down even more encouragement.

Mile 22: 14:06
Mile 23: 13:56
Mile 24: 12:26

We saw the best spectator ever around mile 24 although the race neglected to put up mile markers for 24, 25, & 26 so I had to guess based on approximate relationship with my Garmin. I did not offer another fuel break to Mom. We had enough chews left for one more. We concentrated instead on making it to the finish line.

During the latter half of mile 25 and again in mile 26 we had even more uphill. Seriously Atlanta?! Everyone around us had had enough with the hills too. Finally, we finished the last hill and I told Mom we had only a half mile left. I slightly miscalculated thanks to the Garmin distance mismatch and told her with .7 of a mile left. (Sorry Mom!)

We ran the whole last half mile, even putting on an approximation of a sprint when Mom finally saw the finish line, completing the race about 18 minutes under five hours.

Mile 25: 11:24
Mile 26: 11:25
.4 (oops) nubbin: 9:14 pace
Overall: 4:42:16

Even though I have run only one marathon slower, my first, I have no regrets about this race. I learned so much. First, I gained a needed confidence boost that I can indeed still run marathons. (I have become obsessed with wanting to run all of them again.) I learned the power of positive thinking as I engaged it full force to help Mom. I learned that to make the progress I desire I need to embrace the pain cave instead of retreating in fear. I relearned that I need to commit to things like strength training and actually completing long run workouts. I also learned that Atlanta, so far, may be my least favorite big city and that the Atlanta Track Club needs some serious help putting on a decent marathon. (They could have easily put on a two loop marathon course.)

Going forward, I will likely take a couple days off from running but not much more since I did not race this marathon. I plan to dive into Ottawa training next week. Yes, I have officially crossed the threshold into insanity and I have no regrets.