26.2 Grueling Miles in Atlanta

Atlanta was my 5th marathon in two states now. On Sunday March 21st I took the next step towards my eventual goal of running a marathon in all 50 states.

Having had lots of knee pain and a drastically reduced training schedule, I was really unsure of how my body would respond to the 26.2 mile test this time around.

Greg and I arrived downtown Atlanta with plenty of time to park and find the starting corrals. We made the mistake of waiting to use the restroom near the start area though and the lines were backed up to a ridiculous point. After scouting out a restroom in the restaurant of a nearby hotel I made it back to the start line just in time to see the initial festivities. I watched a few thousand people pass by before I spotted Greg, my running buddy from Athens, GA. The ING Georgia marathon experience was underway for both of us.

For the first 6 miles of the course I ran at Greg’s pace and we enjoyed some occasional  chatting. Between mile 2 & 3, Greg stopped for a potty break and I noticed that my knee pain was already flaring up. Not good! But we were having a good time running figure 8′s, hopping curbs, and generally goofing off…which helped distract from the belligerent knee.

As we came up a hill on mile 6, the course split and separated the half from the full-marathoners. Greg and I exchanged some “skin” and went our separate ways. He was shooting for 2:20 or less on the half and I was hoping for anything sub 4:30 on the full. It must have been between mile 7-8 that we ran through the Candler Park area and I noticed the left knee was quieting down. Hmmm…that’s a good sign, right?! There were several nice stretches of course that went through beautiful/historic neighborhoods and college campuses. I especially remember downtown Decatur as a nice spot along the course with plenty of cheering crowds to keep the spirits high.

Dedicated Decatur Fans

Coming out of Decatur I remember thinking “Hey, I feel pretty good! This might actually end well.” At mile 14 I started a split time on my watch planning to run the next six miles in less than an hour. But at mile 17 I had to take a walk break and the left knee flared up once again as we meandered through a very nice residential area. I was climbing a hill to the 18-mile marker when it became quite clear that pain was going to be my companion all the way to the finish. By the time I got to mile 20, I was having difficulty putting much weight on the left knee. So my right leg was really taking a beating.

After passing the mile 21 sign we came into a park and ran a little loop that turned around at the 22 mile marker. I was walking a good bit during this stretch and met a guy from Wooster, OH who was also trying to manage some discomfort. At this point I also caught up to a guy named Kevin who kept me company and offered some encouragement for a little while. He was from Atlanta and actually running his 26th marathon. Originally I had noticed Kevin because he was wearing a knee brace. Somewhere between miles 12 and 16 I asked him how the knee was holding up as I passed by. He and I exchanged multiple conversations throughout the 2nd half of the course.

A Picture of Pain

Just before mile marker #22 I went from a hobble-walk to a hobble-jog and had hopes of running out the final two miles of the course. But the legs were spent and the left knee continued in its degradation while the back of my right knee started stiffening up severely. I geared down to a shuffling pace once again. The frustration was mounting as I sensed the weight of my own disappointment with the day’s effort. The 5-hour mark was getting dangerously close and I certainly did not want to breach that old performance threshold again.

Just after passing the mile 25 station, I stretched out the stride and set my mind on a sold finish. Fortunately the noise and cheers of the crowd always energize me and I saw the last turn coming up on my left. As I neared the corner some guy cheered me on saying, “Just turn the corner and you’re done.” Sure enough, I turned that corner and the finish line was downhill and less than 100 yards away. There was my buddy Greg…cheering me across the finish line.

In spite of the pain and damage which would take several weeks to fully recover from, my goal of running another 26.2 in a new state was accomplished.