PC: Paul King

Hoping to squeeze in a race before the conclusion of May, I registered for the Downhill at Dawn Half Marathon, my first race in North Carolina and since becoming a resident of the state, kicking off at Ridgecrest around 2,700 feet and dropping to Old Fort around 1,600 feet for the finish on the 29th. The course, albeit majorly downhill, also comprised several significant climbs, especially towards the beginning when runners went down the opposite way and then ran back up. Observing the elevation chart and recognizing these climbs beforehand, I paced myself in those sections and planned to make up going down. I have become efficient in downhill and even uphill running that I often passed participants running hills while feeling vulnerable on flat. Two ladies, one college student, and I continued to swap positions for nearly the entire race and ended in proximity, which at times made me push harder and the run more exciting.

Once we all finished, I in 1:53:20, we exchanged stories and I discovered one of the ladies flew in from Nebraska and we had mutual friends. The college student was running his first half marathon for a challenge from his fraternity, and his mother ended up driving me back up to the starting line where my car was parked, for which I felt immensely grateful and relieved, as I would have had to rely on Uber otherwise and did not know its frequency of availability in this minute town. Usually the race offers a shuttle back to the top, but due to the COVID-19 pandemic, participants were asked to take care of transporation themselves, why I hesitated to sign up earlier. Summer heat is rapidly approaching and I do not foresee an ideal 13.1 performance for the next several months, so I may shift my focus to ultras and/or other distances.

I planned to run an ultra the weekend before I started my new job on April 12, 2021, but ultimately refrained reading the horrific forecast of rain and thunderstorms for three days leading up to the event and continuing throughout, so I rightly felt upset when I saw an ideal weather for this challenge with hardly any rain. Prior to relocating to Raleigh, North Carolina, on April 26, I still decided to squeeze in one more race at the Run Your Bundts Off Half Marathon on April 18 in Cumming, Georgia.

I figured running under two hours should be a given based on the 46-degree start, albeit the sun did eventually add heat, until I saw the race initiate with a lengthy climb and the entire course move steeply up and down with hardly any flat for my body to recuperate. I want to see an elevation chart before registering for a reason, and I certainly did not anticipate an elevation gain of 846 feet, significant for me in this climate when refusing to walk one step. The steepest climb ended up being the exact same I conquered last year in a different race in Cumming, and predictably I heard a few runners bad-mouthing this section while I was mentally prepared. Based on the difficulty of the course, although I am disappointed in my 2:03:57 finish, I am content simply knowing I gave my all for the day and did not take a single walking break.

Not confident the Tuscaloosa Tourism & Sports Half Marathon, scheduled for March 27, 2021, in the titular city of Alabama, would actually take place due to a thunderstorm warning, I had trouble pulling the trigger on registering until the event’s official Facebook page informed me its intent on not canceling. Familiar territory, I signed up, booked a motel, and drove nearly four hours to the vicinity all the afternoon before.

My body does not react to the heat as efficiently as the cold; thus, I was concerned my having become accustomed to racing in the 20s, 30s, and 40s would make my half marathon #40 extra challenging. As I predicted, the feels-like temperature of the mid to upper 70s and intense humidity that had me desperately longing for the supposedly projected rain overwhelmed me from the start, and with a couple of steep climbs early on and consistent rolling hills throughout, by 4 or 5 miles in I already accepted this inevitably less-than-ideal performance no matter how much harder I pushed and decided to carry on at a casual pace with the only goal of running the entire way without a walking break, which I managed. My 2:05:30 finish ranks among my worst finish times in recent memory, but I remained grateful I could squeeze in a race before March passed, as I try to participate in at least one every month and had not done so yet this month.

I told them no one has ever come to support me in any of my past 68 races, and they took a picture with me!

Speaking to and befriending countless runners, spectators, families, and volunteers marks the highlight of my experience here. I finally felt a sense of normalcy that has been frustratingly elusive since the COVID-19 outbreak. An uncontrollable extrovert, I need to be in the presence of people, so this alone made this spontaneous trip worth it.

I prefer to participate in a race or two every month to preserve my fitness and motivate myself to consistently train. Running out of time in February 2021, I only a few days before registered for the Greenville Half Marathon on the last Saturday of the month in South Carolina, advertised as the “fastest half marathon in the South.” Half marathoners would take off in Travelers Rest, run through the Swamp Rabbit Trail, and finish on TD Stage at the Peace Center in downtown Greenville. I doubted I could challenge my personal best in the distance at this moment but still shot for a sub-1:50:00 on this net-downhill course.

About a mile to go!

I was assigned Corral 3, consisting of runners who submitted their estimated finish times close to mine, and the hundreds of us ran the initial mile and a half together prior to scattering following a minor incline. Having meticulously researched this race, I knew ahead of time the first four miles or so would comprise rolling hills and then most of the downhill running would begin, so I kept the balance between not pushing early and not falling off pace too much in hopes of making up in the faster miles so that my finish time could actually benefit from this layout. I could tell the swiftness of the course based on how little resistance my body felt for the pace I maintained, but visually most of the downhill sections, subtle and gradual, appeared more flat.

Physically, this 13.1-miler, 13.23 according to my Garmin, felt to be one of the easiest out of the 39 I have completed, albeit my 1:53:42.3 finish does not seem to indicate that. Perhaps the race director could consider naming this the “easiest half marathon in the South” instead.

PC: Strawberry Plains Half Marathon and 10K

“Are you from Tennessee? Because you’re the only ten I see.” Each time I picture this neighboring state, this cheesy platitudinous pickup line invades my head. I originally considered a different and nearer half marathon in Georgia, but with its online registration closing at an unexpected time and price increasing prior to my receiving a clear answer to a question, I instead added my name to the wait list at the Strawberry Plains Half Marathon on January 30, 2021, in the titular location of Tennessee, nearly a four-hour drive Northeast of my temporary Atlanta residence, and almost immediately was notified of an open spot and to complete registration. While debating whether or not I should, I had three or four consecutive dreams the following morning of thinking I signed up but worrying what if I did not, making me more eager to just do so when I woke up, not to mention this would be my first race in the Volunteer State. I registered past noon, washed running clothes, booked a motel, and drove up to Knoxville, all the day before the event.

Find me! PC: Strawberry Plains Half Marathon and 10K

The organizer’s course video that displayed breathtaking sceneries enticed me, and, even though previous participants have spoken of the vast hills, I accurately predicted the 25-degree start would significantly aid me in overcoming the challenge. Here, I noticed the Atlanta hills I often loathe have been training me for such a course, as I never felt overwhelmed by even the steepest climbs and my pace remained consistent throughout. I continued to chat with and cheer on fellow runners and even volunteers and staff, which boosted my own energy, albeit one may think talking incessantly while running would play an opposite role. After keeping my music volume low enough to be able to hear everything around me for most of the race, I put my earphones in my pocket toward the conclusion to focus on the moment. At the very end, a lady in front of me, who practically maintained the same gap with me for 90% of the run, mistakenly went through the cones when she had to move forward slightly farther before turning left and to the finish. Usually, when one runner goes the wrong way, those behind follow, but here, likely because I had no distraction of music, I was aware and went the correct way; if I would have followed the lady, my perfectionism would have eaten me alive, so I feel relieved for understanding the placement of cones and having studied the course video multiple times.

Considering the constant rolling hills and elevation gain of 607 feet, I am finally content with my official time of 1:54:08, as this proves to me I am gradually regaining my old speed from pre-COVID-19. After receiving a lengthy amazing complimentary stretch and being taught one method of self-stretching from sweet young therapist Ashley, conversing with runners (even one from Lincoln, Nebraska!) and volunteers, and checking out of my motel, I made sure to treat myself a product of Tennessee since I traveled this far and decided on Cracker Barrel Old Country Store prior to driving back to ATL. Spontaneous? Yes. Regrets? Not one iota.

To kick off my 2021 running season, I signed up for the Chilly Willy Half Marathon, hosted in Sugar Hill, Georgia, on January 16, 2021, only a couple of days previously. Given the unpredictability of COVID-19, acknowledging any running event could be canceled at any moment, I generally wait until the last minute to register for any race. This course comprised constant moderate rolling hills that added 551 feet of elevation gain that could have been more challenging in the summer, but I had confidence the starting temperature in the low 30s would provide me with extra energy from not sweating as profusely to cover 13.1 miles without noticeably slowing down.

Running this section twice due to the first-loop fiasco!

The half marathoners were to run the same loop twice, and I naturally followed those in front of me. When I turned around to go back the way I came around 2.5 miles in, I knew something went wrong somewhere, that there must have been a section I missed, but I initially could not figure out where this could have happened. Nearing the midpoint of the loop, out of a circular trail, awaited a sidewalk where half marathoners and 10K runners ran on, made a sharp right turn, and proceeded forward until the respective turnaround, but this sidewalk contained two sites of construction that forced runners to go around and thus many of them instinctively moved to their right onto the road, creating this error; I must have followed. Panicking and demoralized, I turned off my music and filled my head with negative thoughts while moving forward. As I ran back to complete the first lap, I, still clueless, commented to multiple volunteers this did not seem right. When I came back for the second lap, the location where the confusion occurred this time appeared clear with (I believe) the race director standing by. After letting him know, I ran up to and around the half-marathon turnaround cone and down two times to make up for the first time I missed, and, although he told me to turn around sooner prior to going back a second time, I went farther back toward the way I came and where I must have veered off course before turning back around to appease my OCD, which likely ended up costing my performance a minute. On my way back to the circular trail, I told him, “I do not understand how I missed this the first time,” to which he replied that is because the cones had not yet been set up to separate the sidewalk and road just a few feet to the right, which made sense of why participants moved away from the construction and landed on the wrong side. His verbally expressing what I did was “fine” now removed some of my internally freaking out before finishing up the final three miles. With two miles to go, coming out of the other side of the circular trail and back onto the road, I saw one runner cutting that entire trail section and running straight and right in front of me, prompting me to run extra hard to pass him so that he would not end up stealing my place in case he and I shared the same age group. I later observed on the results page the man who finished right behind me in my age group, whether this person or not, lost to me by mere four seconds, so I feel glad I decided to push harder when I did.

Crossing the finish line in 1:55:16, albeit sufficient for gold in my age group of 30-34, I felt somewhat irritated knowing my time would have been in the 1:54 or even 1:53 range without this fiasco, supported by my Garmin that reads 13.22 miles. I again explained this issue and what I did to another one of the race directors, who too confirmed I was “fine,” and two fellow half marathoners separately overheard and revealed they did exactly the same, complete that leg to the turnaround twice during the second lap after missing it the first time. I was just relieved, like they were, I could somehow salvage a race I thought I butchered.

My racing performances since the start of the COVID-19 pandemic have been less than ideal, understandable considering I have not been running as frequently due to being overly cautious of my less-than-100% right foot, Georgia comprises far more hills than where I used to train and race in the Midwest, and I appear to have packed a few unnecessary pounds. When I read the Harmony Half Marathon, taking place in Monroe, Georgia, on December 5, 2020, would be “mostly flat and fast” and the temperature forecast in the 30s and 40s, I registered and set out to redeem myself, even when knowing I would be substantially slower than last year and the year before.

The course, although not overly technical, consisted of constant rolling hills, far from “mostly flat” in my opinion. Still, having run this distance 35 other times in various conditions and temperatures, I felt confident whatever pace at which I begin I would be able to maintain until the end. I had been struggling with pain on the left side of my lower back for the past several days to the point even coughing aggravated the pain, which worried me, but thankfully this did not play a factor. My pace remained consistent, mainly mid-eight-minute-mile, for the first nine miles, so I was caught off guard in the tenth mile when my pace plummeted, as I did not feel any fatigue or my legs slowing down. My speed recovered sufficiently the following mile, but the slowing returned for the next couple of miles, likely attributable to the hills. Furthermore, one man who had been far ahead of me but in sight for most of the race I caught up to with more than two miles to go executed a strategy unknown to me previously, running for a couple of minutes and walking for half a minute. He repeated this, which led many times to my passing him while he walked and his passing me back running. This irritated me, as seeing someone in front walking so much still beating you can be demoralizing. He finished slightly before I and later apologized, suspecting I could have been annoyed. I shot for around 1:52:00, so my official finish time of 1:57:56.2 almost felt like a failure. I just missed out on a podium finish for my age group of 30-34, placing 4th, but one of the workers gave me the award (coaster) anyway and told me to write “4th place” on the back because she had many left. I initially replied, “It’s okay,” but the second time she told me to take it I did with a thank-you. Sweet lady.

Seeing the weekend weather forecast favorable for running, I, only two nights prior to the event, registered for the Viking Dash Half Marathon, held in Fairburn, Georgia, just over 20 miles southwest of Atlanta, on Halloween 2020. I parked my car a quarter of a mile downhill from packet pickup and the starting line and, first walking up through the wet grass route, utterly soaked my only socks and sneakers, not to mention having to walk up, down, and back up right before the run already irritated me for the possibility of unnecessarily wearing myself out. The organizers dealt with confusions with the bibs of those who signed up relatively late, and a cordial lady handing out the bibs initially told me my bib number of 1499, which I knew from the race email, had been given away to someone else and I had to be assigned a new number, which immediately triggered my OCD: “What if my time gets registered to someone else?” Minutes later, the director told her all participants needed their original numbers from the email, after which she gave me my original bib, which she herself was wearing under her sweater for whatever reason.

Second in my age group of 30-39! I look out of place with this shield! 😂

For COVID-19 precautionary measures, every runner was separated about 15 seconds from the next, like a time trial. The race took place in Bouckaert Farm, which resembled a typical cross country course that consists of grass, pebble, typical trails, and hills, in other words, not a fast course. Regardless, I enjoyed overcoming a variety of surfaces for versatility, but aware carelessness could result in rolling my ankles and my right foot to be less than 100% since mid-2019, I focused much of my attention on the placement of my feet especially on the pebble. Towards the end of each of the two loops stood a colossal uphill that stretched about a quarter of a mile, which only moderately affected me the first time but turned me into a tortoise pretending to run with an exaggerated motion, switching gears to be more exact, the second time. My official time reads 1:58:34.3, sufficient for second place in my age group of 30-39. All factors considered, I am content with a sub-2:00:00 half marathon here. The race website states “top 3 in each age group earn a qualifying spot” for the National Championships in Selma, Indiana, on June 19, 2021, so I guess that includes me. Being a national qualifier in anything sounds humbling, but I doubt I will travel that far for a 13.1-mile run.