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For the record, this was all Donnie's idea.
His pitch was to run the Atlanta Marathon at the end of February, then head to Daytona and get in a nice taper before our team ultra-triathlon 12 days later.
I like ideas that sound crazy to anyone else (he knows this) so of course I agreed. I could work remotely, so why not? I've done plenty of ultra distance races since running my last stand-alone marathon, so surely with a decent training plan I could knock out another 26.2 miles.
While I was building up my long runs in the cold Iowa winter, I felt like my pacing was good. I had done a bit of race recon, and I knew there were some hills on the Atlanta course. I wasn't tracking my elevation totals to see how they were adding up compared to what I'd race; the profile didn't appear to have anything very steep or anything out of the ordinary to prepare for. I was pretty confident that I could finish under 4 hours.
It wasn't until just now, a week later, that I looked up how long it had been since I ran a stand-alone marathon: it was in January of 2019, the Pettit Indoor Marathon which was exactly one day after I ran the Pettit indoor Half Marathon. Obviously 'indoor' is a key factor, on a track flat as a pancake. A more apt comparison would be my last road race marathon, which was the Garmin Marathon in Olathe, KS in April of 2017.
So yeah, it's been a while.
I didn't get any sleep the night before, as some loud, obnoxious women in the room next to mine decided to have a 'whooooo' party all night (calls to the front desk didn't to anything: never stay at the DoubleTree at Druid Hills). I can't remember any race where I had great sleep the night before anyway, so I was prepared to just wake up and run.
I met Donnie and his friend Chi about an hour before our waves went off. I was properly fueled, hydrated, and the temperatures were cooperating perfectly with temps around 60 degrees or so with a slight breeze. When registering I put an expected race time of 3:45, which put in in corral B. I figured I would start off just ahead of the 3:45 pace group and see how things went, knowing I could fade and still finish under 4 hours.
When I got to the corral, I found the 3:45 group and started navigating my way forward. I saw the 3:30 pace group, and thought I would see how long I could keep them in my sights. I knew I wouldn't hang long, but wouldn't it be a hell of a day if I could?
Corral B started at 7:20am, and we started with a very slight uphill followed by a long gradual downhill. I was feeling good, waiting for the 'taffy stretch' where a thin group pulls ahead but a larger group stays behind. I liked being at the back of the thin group where I had enough space to navigate.
Mile 1 was 8:12, a bit faster than I expected but nothing stupid like going under 8 minutes. The stupid started with Mile 2 at 7:51 and Mile 3 uphill at 8:00. This was going way too fast, and I needed to start slowing down. Mile 4 had the largest elevation gain so that helped me get to a more manageable pace.
At that point I had gone into 'management' mode and was remembering previous strategies. Drinking some Powerade at each aid station, and keeping the small water bottle I raced with over half full at all times. I remember a great cop right around Mile 7 who was very vocal and encouraging everyone to hurry up a short but rather steep hill, and he put some pep in my step that I otherwise wouldn't have had.
Piedmont Park was around Mile 9 and it was a really nice stretch. I wish I had enjoyed it more because it was the last gradual downhill of the race. As we made our way back to downtown where the half-marathoners would break off for their finish, I was still on a good pace and hit the halfway mark exactly where I wanted to, 1 hour and 50 minutes. I knew I could average 10 minute miles the rest of the way and I'd bring it in under 4 hours.
Good thing I had that buffer, because I wasn't even at Mile 14 and the 3:45 group passed me. At that moment, I knew 4 hours was not looking good. I wasn't feeling it in my legs like I usually do. This course was unlike any other I had run - the hills were constant, with ups and downs waiting around seemingly every corner. While the total elevation was about the same as the Des Moines Marathon, there were so many more hills, and all that descending was beating up my quads.
Knowing there were even more hills ahead, I promised myself that I would run to Mile 18 and then start walking the aid stations. There were great cheering sections through the campuses of Clark Atlanta University, Morehouse College, and Spelman College. I'm glad they were there, because they helped remind me that I always had fun during races. I returned high fives along with smiles and thanks - especially to all the law enforcement that were keeping us safe.
There was a aid station at Mile 17.5 and that was close enough to Mile 18 for me. That was also the last mile that I would 'run' under 10 minutes. There was no doubt that I would finish, but I knew it wasn't going to be under 4 hours. That was solidified when the 4-hour pace group cruised past me at Mile 22. The interesting thing was, I didn't even care enough to try and chase them down. I had already come to peace with what my body would allow me to do that day, along with realizing that I had effectively ruined my day by going out much too fast for the first 4 miles.
I kept trying to move faster; I very much wanted to employ a 'run downhill and flats, walk the uphills' strategy but with the unrelenting hills, small as they were, that approach wouldn't help like it had at other races. At least I got to enjoy the previous Olympic Stadium site and cauldron - twice, because the course looped around and did a lot of back-and-forths. I don't know if it was because of that or the hills, but last 5 miles didn't leave a lasting impression. At one point I was walking long enough to text Wendy just to let her know how I was doing.
The course finally returned to downtown, and I knew the finish was near. Of course the final mile came up the same downhill we started, which was a bit cruel. At least the final few hundred yards were downhill. I'm used to seeing large arches that span over the finish line, but Atlanta had the newer styles that are shorter 'arcs' that flank either side. Had it not been for the timing mats, I wouldn't have known I finished.
I know not to sit down right after finishing a race, and that the better thing is to walk and stretch. I laughed as I made my way through the finishers food tent at the idea of walking more, but I did stretch while waiting for Donnie and Chi to finish. It was Chi's first marathon, and he looked better than both Donnie and I when he finished. It was a real treat to see his whole family there with their signs ("My Dad is faster than your Dad") and Team Chi shirts.
As for the final stats, my finish was 4 hours and 23 minutes (I should have aimed for my birthday, but my mind wasn't in the right head space for being that clever - I could have pulled if off though) and that was an average pace of 10:03 per mile. Certainly not my strongest finish, but... *shrug*... I finished in the top half overall, overall men, and in my age division, 5 of whom did not finish.
Was it memorable? Sure, but not for the reasons I had hoped. This wasn't really a priority race for me, and I know I did the right thing at the end while paying the price for going out too fast. I wasn't crushed or feeling awful, my legs were a bit more tired than I remember them being at the end of other marathons. I've learned over the past few years to prioritize what lies ahead instead of going for immediate results. 12 days after this race I'm headed back to Clermont, Florida to compete in the Double Anvil Ultra-Triathlon as part of a team, and I wasn't about to overreach and put that at risk and possibly let them down. Was it a success? Ultimately yes. But it was a reminder that I have a lot of work to do to come close to where I was before, and that's as good of a motivator as any.
