Negative Guys and Man Deemed a Runner

The title is misleading and not “negative” at all. It is a statement. It is what happened to Bob & I and what we were after our first 20-mile training run.

We met Calvin and Evan at 5:00AM in front of LTF. We headed out down Morris and up Westside Parkway. Conversation was light. We talked about races and rivals. We discussed other training partners and their training regiments. And we found out by the slip of the tongue Evan’s nickname in college, Joe Pesci. This is because in college Evan who is 5 foot 6??? was over 185 pounds. There was some more stuff he said, but as soon as he told the 3 old dudes he was running with that are relentless, it was over. He is forever deem, “Little Joey P” in our book.

The mile clicked by. At mile 5 we saw a familiar runner heading towards us. Amy was on her 12 mile run and was using the 10 mile (opposite) as part of the 12. She cruised by as we hooted and said hello as we all made our way back into the dark of the morning. We stayed on pace for the almost 9 miles then at the end we kicked it up North Point from Old Milton to give a little cushion to refuel at the LTF parking lot.

I made a snafu by saying that if the second 10 were like the first, this was going to be an easy run. This was after we easily made it up North Point.

Little Joey P had peeled off after 10. Calvin was in for 15 miles and standing waiting our arrival was or next running stud, Hokan. He saw Bob and I come in shirtless and immediately ripped his shirt off and ditched it. His wife, Andrea had said that “real runners” run shirtless. Well, My friend, “you are a real runner”.

The next 10 miles was the exact opposite of the first 10 mile loop. I designed it this way for the mental aspect of running 20 miles. The endurance part on the body is not the issue, it is who the mind screws with you and tells you things that are not true. The mind wants you to stop. It hurts, but you need to be strong and focused to be able to overcome this and push through, as you will see.

The 4 runners, yes Hokan, runners, headed down North Point towards Old Milton. The conversation was lively with a fresh runner in the mix. Hokan told us a story of a frog, his wife and two wasp. Let’s just say it was humorous (the frog part, not the wasp) and would help me about mile 17. The pace was right on, not fast, not slow and not sporadic. We rounded onto Old Milton headed towards Alpharetta center. Bob was on my right shoulder (nice Bob) as Calvin and Hokan took up the rear. The conversation died at this point because ahead we could see the long gradual hill of Old Milton that lay before us. I believe we all saw what lie ahead and as any runner (Hokan you are included) would do we assessed the hills to find where we could attack to hold pace and where the natural forces of gravity would pull us forward with less effort. We became silent.

Hitting mile 12 at the front corner of the abandon mall on the right of Old Milton the long climb to Wills Road 2.1 miles in front of us began.

I shortened my stride and increased cadence as I leaned into the hill with Bob on my right shoulder. The climb was more mental than physical pulling up towards a crest that was nowhere in sight. At the corner of Westside Parkway, Calvin, said his goodbyes as he hooked right onto the blocked off road back to LTF to complete his 15 miles.

The three runners continued on, upward hitting mile 13, the funeral parlor (ironic) the sound of heavy breathing was heard almost drowning out the daily car commuters. Fatigue was setting in. Bob grabbed a Gatorade bottle stashed in the brush at Haynes Bridge as Hokan and I slowed the pace to allow him to drink and regain the pace we had established.

Nearing mile 14, Bob announced that he was done…Done? What? I told him to hang on and get through another mile that would level out and head downhill. I increased the pace to push Bob a bit and to also give him some cushion since we were on the decline near Wills Road.

Wills Road was a gradual incline again, but Bob hung 10 steps behind the whole way rounding onto Milton. Milton started downhill to give a little reprieve but then sharply turned to an incline towards the intersection of Milton and Canton. Bob said needed to run into “The Corner Deli” to grab a Coke to help him make it. Hokan and I decreased pace as Bob was in and out in 15 seconds??? Fast! He drank as he made some ground to get back to us. I looked at my watch as we hit mile 16 and we were 20 seconds off pace! I said to Hokan we will give Bob a few more steps to catch up. Bob, never did. He seemed to fade just slightly. I knew he was struggling, but I also knew that he would had felt bad if we slowed further for him losing our pace.

With Bob knowing the course, the sun being up…The sun was up?! I had not even noticed…Bob would want us to continue. I told Hokan to pick it up as he did at a hard, fast pace as we turned onto Vaughn heading right for HWY 9. Vaughn was my demise as well. Until that point the legs were strong, the mind was sound, but within 3 minutes heading up Vaughn it all went down the toilet.

I focused on Hokan’s shoes and his repetitive stride. He crested Vaughn almost turning left on HWY 9 when like a true, good guy he asked what he could do for me. Talk? Shut up? Increase pace? What? I told him whatever in a less than cordial voice. The demons had set in at that point. We hit mile 17 and all I wanted to do was to stop. My mind said, “let him go, this is a bunch of junk!” But, as Hokan hit mile 17 and made his way up, yes up again, HWY 9 I figured I only have less than 3 miles. 3 freaking mile left! After cresting this one hill I knew it was downhill and flats for over a mile. I knew I could recoup and get my mojo back. Then the mind said, “no way! You are mine!” I pushed through as we turned right onto Windward Parkway passing another runner looking more confused than me. I knew that I had until the turn to get my facilities back for the last 2 miles to make up…23 seconds! Crap!

I dug deep pushing the pain and the thoughts my mind was telling me to do aside and just cranked it up. Hokan still was ahead of me by a step as we hit Westside Parkway with a little up then a huge, long downhill. I leaned into the decline and turned it up. Sensing a surge from behind, Hokan kicked it as well. At the end of mile 18 we hit a 7:40 pace. That made up the deficit and then some. I attempted to calculate how much time left and rounded to 9. 9 minutes for the last mile of 20. I eased up, gathered myself and prepared for the .85 mile hill to the finish. Running Morris, I took the inside corner to make ground on Hokan and to stay even with him. We rounded the corner of Morris and went straight up. The first part was a hill then plateau’d for brief second as it winded up to our final destination.

With less than a quarter mile to go, my track experience kicked in and I was off. I passed Hokan and tore up the hill and rounded the 25 meters to the end.

A few minutes after Hokan and I finished Bob came in looking strong. HE stopped and collapsed on the sidewalk. He told us of his adventures of getting water at the BP and stopping at Holiday Inn Express for some mango/orange juice before meeting up with us.

Now, I don’t know how long he was in these two establishments, but to come in a few minutes behind, if he had carried a bottle with him, we would have been trailing Bob.

The run ended for Bob and I, though at different times at a negative split. The first half was slower (by design) that the second half. A true runner wants this and rarely can accomplish it.
Ending this 20 mile run, I mentioned about a frog, Hokan’s wife and two wasps. The story is funny and painful, but at certain points on the edge of the abyss from mile 17 to 19.7, the story, though funny in some areas clouded my mind over the doubts.

I am grateful for Hokan's companionship on the last 10 miles. I wish him strength and enjoyment as he and his family venture to Lake Placid, New York as he participates in my favorite Ironman Race.

I am finding that readjusting my goals for Chicago so far it is turning out to be a good decision. As for the number of injuries that are plaguing me? No change. Pain Management…

And Bob, good job.