As always, the 2011 AJC Peachtree Road Race was an adventure. If it was easy anyone could do it. The sights and sounds, and people and places make it an event like no other. Here’s a sample of my morning:
Got out of the house shortly after 5:30 and drove down near the finish line to park. We saw the usual runners walking to the North Avenue Station. Found a decent parking space near the corner of 6th & Maple, and soon we were joined by a runner in a Vette, rocking a NEBRASKA shirt. About five minutes into our walk to MARTA I realized I’d completely forgotten to eat breakfast, even the Jelly Belly Sports Beans sample pack I’d nabbed at the Expo. I’d have to run the Peachtree on the Powerade ION I drank on the drive downtown.
Cruised down the steps just as the northbound train entered the station. Perhaps this IS our day, I thought. We hopped on and took our seats. We always board at North Avenue, because all the seats are taken by the time the train hits Tenth Street. But I quickly realized I hadn’t checked…was this a Doraville train No, it was headed to North Springs! But since we were in time groups near the start, de-training at the Buckhead Station would still work, even though it was crammed full of runners.
Emerging into daylight, we were greeted by the fence separating us from Peachtree Road. Like lemmings the pack flowed northward toward the start line. After we’d herded ourselves several hundred yards, the fence back at the station was opened so runners could cross the street. There were too many runners backed behind us for us to reverse course. At Stratford Road an eagle-eyed volunteer spied Will’s sub-seeded number, and waved him onto Peachtree. Us less fortunate time group runners were herded left on Stratford, around several high-rises toward Phipps.
On Lenox, I crossed Peachtree as SPdL's David Sapp gave the invocation. I was running out of time to meet Tim at the Firestone. Seeing the distant Firestone, I knew I’d never be able to swim against the stream of runners pouring from the Lenox Station. Returning to Time Group D I spotted the Bates boys. After the rockin rendition of the National Anthem and the most dramatic flyover ever, I finally found co-worker Tim. With seconds to spare, we were ready.
Up ahead, Will was thrilled to warm up on Peachtree “with the Kenyans.” He thoroughly enjoyed the start, and running a much less crowded race. All summer he’d gotten constant physical activity working as a Camp Highland counselor, but he could only get away to run once a week. Predictably, the pack took off and quickly left him in the dust. Will said he didn’t see a single walker the entire race.
Group D was walked to the start, and soon we were off as well…exactly at the announced 9:45 starting time. Tim and I chatted as we ran, pointing out the numerous cheaters jumping into the race. Another girl texted as she walked, oblivious to the Star 94 DJ pleading for her to not text and walk.
I’d hoped that running with Peachtree veteran Tim would help me run the entire race, or at least help me achieve a lower finishing time. But even before the first mile mark I could feel the pain in the left knee grow worse and worse. We walked for several seconds and the pain subsided. We continued at a reduced pace, which also helped. Just before the Buckhead Triangle Tim peeled off to use a Jiffy John, granting me another opportunity to walk.
The heat was already bearing down, even before 8 am. I took advantage of every water stop, drinking and pouring water on my arms with one cup, then pouring a second cup on my head. This helped me stay cool the whole race. As we passed Moes it wasn’t hard to snag T-shirts. Tim was sad he missed the Publix doughnuts on the opposite side of the road. After a mile or so we both tossed these Tees to spectators. Will also had no trouble securing a Moe’s shirt, picking one up off the ground. “No runner up front was concerned with shirts” he said. He carried his rest of the race.
The second mile is where I always see plenty of old friends. Mr. Sanders was outside Peachtree Methodist. Walking past I asked how daughter Catherine was doing. As I turned Amen Corner there were several old friends outside Second-Ponce de Leon: Reid, Drew, Nancy, Skip, Peggy, Bill, Sara, John, Margaret, Mrs. Ramsey, and Mrs. Light, among others. George Wright was down near Peachtree Battle, across from Jalisco’s.
Not wanting to hold Tim back, just before the three mile mark I forced him to carry on without me. As it was, we both alternated running and walking the rest of the way. He finished 14 minutes ahead of me. I was able to enjoy the sights and sounds of the race.
In keeping with the Peachtree’s new green designation, I witnessed a runner go out of his way to deposit his bottle in a trash can up on the sidewalk. Unfortunately, most novice runners showed little concern for the thousands behind them…carelessly dropping uncrushed cups and bottles in the middle of the street, creating a tripping hazard, instead of tossing crushed cups to the curb or sidewalk. At least most walkers kept to the right.
One serious-runner-looking fifty-something white runner took time to stop and thank an older harmonica-playing black veteran for his service to our country…something I’d never seen before. At the crest of Cardiac Hill Chick-fil-A was NOT throwing out prizes, greatly assisting the runner flow. Just before the AMTRAK station the Masons were out in force, passing out many cups of water…much more so than previous years.
The trombone player had strayed from his post on the I-85 bridge sidewalk, out several lanes toward the middle of Peachtree. This provided me a slight jolt, as I had my head down dodging water cups. This bridge is where I saw the first race finisher, backtracking to his car. Passing Colony Square, the crowds grew more celebratory and boisterous. Runners regained the spring in their steps, particularly after making the turn onto 10th Street.
Cresting the final hill, the long-awaited finish line finally came into view. This view is always majestic. Trees shade 10th Street all the way up to the finish line, but bright sunlight makes the area behind the finish glow like the Promised Land. The familiar megaphone voice encouraged us to finish strong. As I approached he greeted Peachtree legend Jeff Galloway, who finished just ahead of me. In my exhaustion I was disappointed with my time…forgetting to subtract the fifteen minutes that were on the clock when I started.
After securing the coveted T-shirt, I focused on finding Will and Tim…completely missing the bunches of bananas and bagels on the left. Will and I posed for a picture, then we enjoyed ice-cold Powerades and Blue Bell fruit pops. On our clockwise stroll around Grady High we passed my old Greenwood Avenue apartment, refurbished and in much better shape than back when I lived there in the 80’s. We arrived at the car at the same time NEBRASKA returned to his Vette. Returning to Brookhaven, we passed under runners crossing the 85 bridge, then saw more finishers leaving the Brookhaven MARTA Station.
For the most part, Peachtree number 24 was again an extremely satisfying and enjoyable event. It was great being back near the front in the D Group. As usual, I make my annual vow to train harder and make the 2012 Peachtree even better.
