On March 1st, I ran the Atlanta Marathon. There used to be two marathons in
Atlanta. One was the Atlanta Marathon,
which was originally held on Thanksgiving Day.
The other was the Georgia Marathon, which was held in March. I’ve done both of those races before. This year’s race was called the Atlanta Marathon,
but it seems to be a rebranding of the Georgia Marathon. Like previous incarnations of the Georgia Marathon,
it was held in March, and it started and finished downtown, at Centennial
Olympic Park.
In 2012, the U.S. Olympic Team Trials for both the men’s and
women’s teams were held on the same course on the same day. That was in Houston, and the trials were held
the day before the Houston Marathon. I
was in Charleston, SC that weekend for the Charleston Marathon. I remember watching the Olympic trials on TV
and thinking, “Why didn’t I run the Houston Marathon, so I could watch this in
person?”
In 2016, the trials were held in Los Angeles, the day before
the Los Angeles Marathon. I was signed up
for that race, but I cancelled my trip, because I was recovering from
injuries. I didn’t have clearance from
my physical therapist to do any running at all, much less a marathon.
This year, the trials were held in Atlanta. I finally got my chance to watch the trials
one day and then run a marathon in the same city the next day.
Friday, February 28
One of the things I like about this race is the ease of getting
around without a car. There’s a MARTA
station connected to the airport terminal.
From there, I was able to take a train downtown and walk the rest of the
way to my hotel. The whole trip took
about 30 minutes.
I stayed at Hilton Garden Inn, which is right next to
Centennial Olympic Park. From there, I
could walk to everyplace I needed to go.
After checking in, I walked over to the Georgia World Congress Center to
pick up my race packet. After getting my
race bib and T-shirt, I noticed a line at the table for the pace teams. Meb Keflezighi was leading one of the pace
group for the marathon. He was there
signing autographs and posing for pictures.
Our race packets included a thick program for what they were
calling “America’s Marathon Weekend.” It
had information about both the Olympic trials and the Atlanta Marathon,
including maps of both courses and bios of some of the top contenders in the
Olympic trials.
I’ve been to Atlanta before, so I’ve already done most of
the sightseeing, but I’ve never been to the College Football Hall of Fame. Race participants got free admission. You just had to show your race bib at the
ticket booth.
Two things I like to sample when I travel are pizza and
local beer. I found a brewery a few
blocks from my hotel that also served pizza, so that’s where I ate dinner.
Minutes after getting back to the hotel, I saw a Facebook
check-in from my friends Aaron and Ed.
They were having dinner a block away.
I joined them for the rest of the evening. I already had a filling dinner, but I had
dessert and another beer. That was way
too much food. My sleep was restless
that night.
Saturday, February 29
Saturday was the day of the Olympic Trials, but it didn’t start
until noon. I didn’t have to get up
early, but I woke up early anyway.
I spent most of the morning studying the route for the
Olympic trials to pick places to watch.
I also organized my clothes for the marathon on Sunday.
I met four friends for an early lunch at Max’s Coal Oven
Pizzeria. This restaurant was not only
close to my hotel, but also close to the starting line for the trials. We finished eating in time to get to our
viewing spot for the start of the race.
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| photo credit: Joan Kim |
The course for the Olympic trials started on Marietta Street,
near Centennial Olympic Park. Each eight-mile
loop included a short out-and-back on a section of Marietta Street that’s divided. That’s where we found a spot to watch. The men started at 12:08. The women started 12 minutes later.
The pre-race favorites in the men’s field were Jared Ward,
Leonard Korir and Galen Rupp, but I was curious to see how Jim Walmsley would
do. Walmsley is the course record holder
in the Western States Endurance Run (a.k.a. Western States 100). In the world of ultrarunning, he’s a god, but
the best ultrarunners aren’t necessarily as competitive in marathons. This was actually his first marathon. He qualified using a half marathon time.
We positioned ourselves right in front of the first
turn. At this point, the runners had
only covered a few blocks, so they were still bunched together.
The top names in the women’s field included Emily Sisson,
Molly Huddle, Sara Hall, Des Linden, and Jordan Hasay. I was rooting for Linden. I’ve been a big fan ever since her impressive
win in the 2018 Boston Marathon, where she had to battle through strong
headwinds and cold rain.
We had a good view of the men as they went by, but there
seemed to be more interest in the women’s field. As more and more spectators crowded in around
us, it was difficult to get a clear view as the women raced by.
While most of the runners were going at a fast pace, there
were three women who were already falling well behind. Two were obviously pregnant. The third appeared to be injured. It’s a big deal just to qualify for the
trials, so I’m sure they were all determined to finish, even if they couldn’t
run at their usual pace.
As we waited for the men to complete their first eight-mile
loop, we found a spot to watch from the middle of the street. We were at one end of an out-and-back
section, so we got to see them go by twice on each lap. As the men went by, two runners were well out
in front. I didn’t recognize either of
them.
The other contenders were still in a tight pack.
A few minutes later, we saw the lead men coming back on the
other side of the street. I was dressed
in layers, but I underestimated how cold the wind would be. By the time the men finished their first
loop, I was freezing, and my hands were starting to turn white.
My friend Joan was tracking the position of the leaders on
her phone. After estimating how much
time we had before the women arrived, I ducked into a restaurant for a few minutes
to get out of the cold. When the women
finished their first loop, the leaders were still bunched together.
Trying to take pictures was sometimes frustrating. When there wasn’t another spectator in the
way, the escort motorcycles would ride directly between us and the lead runners.
By the time the men finished their second loop, we moved to
a corner where they turned onto Marietta.
Here it was easier to get an unobstructed view for pictures. One of the runners who was in the lead
earlier was still out in front, but Galen Rupp wasn’t far behind him.
By the time they came back from the turnaround, Rupp had
taken the lead. We continued waiting in
the same spot to see the lead women return.
The leaders of the women’s field were still together.
In the third lap, the runners had a longer route that didn’t
include Marietta Street. To see them again,
we had to move. As soon as the lead
women went by, we walked to the Georgia State Capitol. We wanted to make sure we got there before
the lead men did. The capitol was next
to the beginning of another short out-and-back segment that was near the 24
mile mark. In front of the capitol, we
were in the sun, and we weren’t noticing as much wind. I finally warmed up.
The first runner we saw was Galen Rupp. He had a commanding lead. We eventually saw four more men who were
fairly close together. Rupp was
obviously going to win, but it was unclear who the second and third place
finishers would be. The top three qualify
for the Olympic team.
On their way out, they were nearing the top of a long steep
hill. By the time they came back, they
had recovered from the hill. Rupp was still
way out in front.
Jacob Riley, who was in fifth place going up the hill, was
now overtaking Abdi Abdirahman to move into second place.
I never spotted Jim Walmsley on the course, but I eventually
learned he finished in 2:15. That’s a
solid first marathon, but not good enough to contend for a spot on the Olympic team.
When the women eventually reached our location, the women
who were most frequently touted as favorites weren’t in the top three. It was a close race for first between Aliphine
Tuliamuk and Molly Seidel. Tuliamuk
would go on to win by seven seconds. It’s
worth noting that this was Seidel’s first marathon. Like Walmsley, she qualified in a half
marathon.
Sally Kipyego took the third spot on the women’s team. Des Linden finished fifth.
After the race, I walked back to the hotel. I relaxed (and stayed warm) for the rest of
the afternoon before joining Aaron and Ed for dinner at a barbeque restaurant.
Sunday, March 1
Sunday was the day of the Atlanta Marathon. The race started at 6:50, but the starting
line was only a few blocks away, so I didn’t leave the hotel until 6:30. To save time, I opted not to check a gear
bag. Instead, I wore a Tyvek jacket with
the intention of tying it around my waist after warming up.
It was 32 degrees at the start. I expected it to warm up to 50 by the time I
finished. I wasn’t sure how windy it would
be. I was surprised how cold the wind
was both Friday and Saturday.
I knew the course would be hilly, but I didn’t know how much
that might slow me down. My last several
marathons have all been flat. I do most
of my winter training on a treadmill. You
can simulate hills on a treadmill, but when I’m training for flat marathons, I
also do flat workouts in training. It
was only in the last few weeks that I started adding some “hills” to my
workouts.
Not knowing if I was prepared for the course, I wasn’t sure
what my goal should be. Ideally, I would
shoot for a Boston qualifying time, but I didn’t know if that would be realistic. At a minimum, I wanted to break four
hours. I had to start the race and get a
few miles under my belt before I would know what kind of pace I could sustain.
There were five start corrals, with staggered start
times. I don’t remember what I put down
for an estimated finish time when I registered, but I was assigned to the
second corral.
My corral included pace groups for 3:30 and 3:45, but
nothing in between. At best, I might
pace for 3:35, so neither of those groups was starting at a pace that was
appropriate for me.
Just before our corral started, I heard the announcer
telling us to be careful not to trip on the timing mat as we crossed the start
line. Apparently, some runners failed to
heed that advice. Just as I was getting
to the line, two runners immediately in front of me tripped and fell. I had to stop abruptly to keep from tripping
over them. Fortunately, I was just
beginning to move.
I knew it would be hard to gauge my pace, since the course
was rarely level. You’re almost always going
either uphill or downhill. I did my best
to focus on effort instead. I tried to
start at a pace that felt sustainable.
The first mile was slightly uphill at the start, but after
that it was mostly downhill. I knew I
was starting kind of fast when I saw a pace group in front of me. It had to be either the 1:45 group for the
half marathon or the 3:30 group for the marathon. As I reached the one mile mark, I got
confirmation of my fast start. I ran the
first mile in 7:44. For a Boston
qualifying pace, I needed to average roughly 8:10.
I knew that pace was somewhat misleading, because the first
mile was mostly downhill. I nevertheless
made a point of slowing down a bit. The
next mile took 8:00. That seemed
reasonable, as that mile was also mostly downhill.
The third mile was mostly uphill. I allowed myself to slow down going
uphill. I continually asked myself if my
effort felt sustainable. If it didn’t, I
had to slow down. That mile was slower
than the first two, but not by much.
This race made me realize that I usually pace myself by
first establishing my pace and then continuing to run with the same
cadence. I don’t actually have a good
feel for how fast I’m running. I have a
good feel for my gait. On a flat course,
I can maintain a nice consistent rhythm.
On a course with constant undulations, that doesn’t work. I had to gauge my effort instead. If the pace felt tiring going uphill, I had
to slow down. If it felt too easy going
downhill, I had to speed up. Over the
next several miles, my pace varied, but I tried to keep my effort level. Individual mile splits didn’t mean much, but I
paid attention to my average. I was on
pace for a time between 3:30 and 3:35.
Besides the hills, the course also had lots of turns. After leaving the downtown area, I had
trouble keeping track of where we were. Around
four miles, we passed a familiar landmark.
It was the Martin Luther King Historic Park. Now I knew where we were, if only briefly.
At aid stations, I generally walked while drinking a cup of
Powerade. I did that so I wouldn’t be at
risk of splashing ice cold liquid onto my shirt. The aid station at five miles was in the
middle of a hill. After I finished
drinking, I continued walking long enough to take off my jacket and tie it around
my waist. I wasn’t getting hot yet, but
I knew I would eventually. Taking a
walking break here allowed me to break up a long hill.
At six miles, we made a left turn onto a parkway that looked
familiar. The old course followed this
parkway in the opposite direction, but I still recognized it. We were about to run past the Carter Center.
Around eight miles, we started a long gradual downhill section. A spectator said, “it’s all downhill to the
park.” That was a reference to Piedmont
Park, which we would run through in another mile. It wasn’t actually all downhill, but it was
mostly downhill.
Where we entered the park, we crossed a bridge. The scenery in the park reminded me of
another race I ran recently. I could
picture parts of it, but I couldn’t quite recall which race it was. In any event, this was a nice scenic part of
the course.
The 10th mile was mostly uphill, and I slowed noticeably in
that one. I’m not sure if the next three
miles were also uphill, but all three of them were slower than my average pace.
Since late December, I’ve had soreness in my left heel. My doctor has ruled out a stress fracture or
bone spur. It’s most likely either
bursitis or Achilles tendonitis at the insertion point. It’s forced me to cut back on training while
it heals. It’s improved to the point
where I don’t usually notice it on training runs, but I still notice it running
a marathon. I started to feel it after
about 12 miles. It wasn’t going to stop
me from finishing, but I had to deal with the discomfort for the rest of the race.
We were coming back to where we started. At 13 miles, the runners in the half marathon
moved to the left side of the street.
Then they turned left to run toward the finish in Centennial Olympic
Park. Those of us doing the marathon
turned left to begin the second half.
There wasn’t a sign at the halfway mark, but from my 13 mile
split, I could estimate that I was right on pace for 3:35, which is the Boston
qualifying standard for my age group.
That was misleading, however. My
most recent four miles had all been slower.
Up until now, I had been handling the hills OK, but the
second half would be hilly too. The
hills never end. Realizing I hadn’t
trained sufficiently for hills, I abandoned any thought of trying to qualify
for Boston. If I fought to maintain my
pace, it was only a matter of time before the hills would wear me down. I had to retreat into my comfort zone to make
sure I could finish without blowing up. My only goal now, other than finishing, was to
break four hours. I expected to do that
by a wide margin.
As we left the downtown area again, we made a right turn
alongside a major street. I could see
runners on the other side of the street going in the opposite direction. It was a busy street, with several lanes that
were all open to traffic. I wondered
where we would cross the street. I got
my answer when I saw runners going up a ramp toward a pedestrian bridge. At first the ramp was just another easy
hill. The last part of it was a
spiral. This was steeper than any of the
other hills. By the time I got onto the
bridge, my legs were starting to feel like jelly. The ramp on the other side was also a
spiral. The grade wasn’t uncomfortable,
but the constant turning was.
Although there weren’t as many runners on the course now,
there were still enough. I always had
lots of runners to follow. That’s all I
was doing now. Follow the other runners
and eventually finish. Don’t worry too
much about pace.
I never noticed when we reached 14 miles, so I was
pleasantly surprised to see 15. I didn’t
bother looking at my watch. My
individual mile times didn’t matter too much.
I was just running by feel. I
wouldn’t slow down more than I had to, but I also wouldn’t risk blowing up. I made sure my effort was manageable.
I had no idea what to expect for the rest of the race. This part of the course was quite a bit
different from the old route. For
several miles, I didn’t know where I was.
We went through a few neighborhoods where the pavement was uneven. In a few spots, the top layer of pavement had
been removed, but it hadn’t been repaved yet.
There were also a few potholes. I
had to watch my footing.
Going up one of the hills, I started to feel hot, so I took
off my gloves. After rounding the next corner,
I felt a slight headwind, and my hands got cold again. The wind on Sunday was nothing like the
previous two days. This was one of the
few spots where I felt it. Overall, I
was warming up. I felt perspiration under
my hat. I didn’t worry too much about my
hands. If I was warm overall, they’d be
OK.
I saw the sign for 16 miles, but I never saw 17. I also didn’t see 18. It’s possible they were at aid stations. When I’m focused on drinking, I don’t always notice
mile markers.
At one point, I saw we were approaching the large viewing
tower next to the Olympic rings just south of the Georgia State Capitol. We were approaching from the west. As we turned left, I assumed we would run
toward the capitol, where I was watching the trials on Saturday. Then we immediately made another left turn
and went off in another direction.
The next mile marker I saw was for 19 miles. When I saw it, I was relieved. The remaining distance was like an easy training
run. At this point, so was my pace.
Between 21 and 22 miles, we left the road and crossed some
grass to get onto a track. We ran
halfway around the track and then crossed the grass again to get back onto
streets. That was an interesting
diversion.
With a little over three miles to go, I saw the Olympic
rings again. Now, we were approaching
from the south. This time we were going
to run under them and continue north towards the capitol. It was uphill here, and I was getting
hot. I had been wearing a short-sleeved
T-shirt and arm warmers. One advantage
of arm warmers is that you can take them off when you no longer need them. The one on my right arm was easy to remove. It took more work to remove the one on my
left arm, because it was underneath my watch.
After removing the arm warmer that was under my watch, I
accidentally saw my time. I had been
going out of my way to avoid looking at my watch in the second half of the
race. My time so far was 3:18 and
change. I wasn’t at a mile marker, so it
wasn’t real meaningful. I had somewhere
between two and three miles to go.
Seeing my time confirmed two things I already knew. I was no longer anywhere close to a Boston
qualifying pace, but I was also nowhere near four hours. When I got to 24 miles, I looked at my watch
again. I estimated I would break
3:42. That made sense, since the 3:45
pace group was still somewhere behind me.
I was wearing my cheetah tights, hat, and shirt, so I got
lots of comments from the crowd. Most
where “nice outfit” or “I like your outfit.”
One spectator yelled, “Go Cheetah Man!
I have beer for you.” I had already
passed two or three other beer stops.
Those were in the first half of the race, so I skipped them. With only two miles to go, it didn’t seem
like I had anything to lose.
Another runner mentioned that he had been following me, and
I was helping him keep up a good pace.
He said 3:39 was still within reach.
I was skeptical about breaking 3:40, but I decided to dedicate my last
two miles to helping him finish strong.
We ran together for a while, but as soon as we reached a long downhill
section, he fell behind. I didn’t think
I sped up that much. It’s possible he slowed
down going downhill. That can happen if
your quads are getting sore from all the hills.
I didn’t want to leave him behind, but there wasn’t much
point in slowing down for him. We weren’t
going to break 3:40. I continued at my
own pace.
Ahead, I saw a large digital clock next to the street. I assumed it was at the 25 mile mark. When I got there, I didn’t see a sign for 25
miles, but I can’t imagine any other reason they would have a clock in this spot. A couple minutes later, a spectator said, “you’re
in the last mile.” That seemed consistent.
As I got closer to the finish, I recognized my
surroundings. I was getting closer to one
of the spots where I was watching the Olympic trials with my friends. I knew it wasn’t much farther. I also knew most of it was slightly uphill. A spectator said, “at the top of the hill,
you can see the finish.” That was the
motivation I needed.
I crested the hill, ran downhill for a couple blocks, and
then made the turn to enter Centennial Olympic Park. After turning, I could see the finish
line. It was the same finish line used
for the Olympic trials. The approach was
over bricks. I’m not usually bothered my
hard surfaces, but I found it uncomfortable.
I reminded myself that all the Olympic hopefuls ran over this same
surface. If it was good enough for them,
it should be good enough for me.
I crossed the line in 3:41:15. I ran positive splits by six minutes, but I
was expecting that. In the first half, I
was racing. In the second half, I was
making sure I wouldn’t blow up. I’m glad
I didn’t try to push it. The second half
was hillier than the first half.
I’m not completely sure what the design of the finisher
medal represents.
After getting my medal, I got a lightweight hooded jacket
with a zipper in front. They use these instead
of heat shields. I was already putting
on my Tyvek jacket, so I didn’t need to wear this jacket. Instead, I saved it. It’ll make a great warm-up layer for a future
race.
I was selective about post-race food. Water:
no. Chocolate milk: yes. Fruit cup: no. ham and turkey sandwich: yes. Chips:
no. Banana: no.
I stayed in the finish area much longer than I usually do. The sun was out, and I felt surprisingly
comfortable with the layers I had. I
didn’t even need to put my gloves on. I
saw several friends who had already finished.
I also saw a few friends finish while I was there.
After getting cleaned up, I joined Aaron and Ed for ice cream
at a place near my hotel that makes the ice cream right in front of you using
liquid nitrogen to chill it. Then we
walked over to the Olympic rings in Centennial Olympic Park. Later, I joined Aaron for dinner at Hard Rock
Café.
Race Statistics
Distance: 26.2 miles
Time: 3:41:15
Average Pace: 8:27
Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:
402
Lifetime Sub4 Marathons:
254
Consecutive Sub4 Marathons:
10
