An Amazing Race

What an amazing day!  I'm usually very good at setting expectations just beyond my reach.  I'm also very good at being annoyed when I fail to meet them.  But I never saw this coming. 

I knew I wasn't as fit as last year.  I lacked focus.  I hadn't put in the distance proving miles.  And I had been losing weight recently.  (With my physique, that's disturbing).  For most of the season, I've been thinking “Don't kill yourself like last year.  Cruise somewhere in vicinity of 7 hours”.   By race morning, my outlook had deteriorated to “Try to stay out of the sag wagon”

I had learned a few things from last year.  I gave up the notion of never stopping in favor of a simplified nutrition scheme that would be difficult to screw up.    I inhaled electrolytes the day before because I was fearful that I was running low already. 

The clock struck 7:30.  Ready or not, I was off to Atlanta.  I was a bit overcautious in Athens and burned some energy playing catchup.  My plan to catch an easy pack and stay with them wasn't going too well.  The easy packs were too unsteady on the downhills.  I surged forward on climb after climb.  I found a pack that seemed within a shakeout or two of being solid.  I was burning too much energy.  Was I going to blow up again like last year?    The supplementary Gu's helped but I was bypassed in a downhill a few miles short of Dacula.  I decided not to give chase. 

I settled into a “skate forever” pace.  Another pace line would surely catch up soon.  I passed Dacula at 9:45am.  Not bad.  I decided not to sprint after a trio climbing out of town.  The heat and slower pace was doing me good.  I no longer needed Gu.  I was getting all the calories I needed from my sport drink.  Those 87 packs behind me don't seem to be coming. Shouldn't a hot, fresh, 52mile pack pass me real soon?  No?  I teamed up with a straggler from my pre-Dacula pack for the last couple of miles into checkpoint four.  I stopped.  He went on. 

Checkpoint Four!   Halleluiah!  I returned a full, unopened water bottle I carried from Checkpoint Three and swapped out the Camelback reservoir.  I didn't miscalculate.  I didn't run out of water and I was feeling pretty good.  (Cue the James Brown).  I met Michael Wysochanski (for some reason, I keep thinking I heard “Dave” but that’s probably just typical A2A brain damage).  He was not feeling well at all.  I gave him my remaining supply of electrolyte tablets in hopes that they will settle his tummy problems.  

I briefly mingled with a loose group of four, but they were spent and I didn't really want to descend Silver Hill with an unproven pace line.  I passed them and Michael.  

I stopped at Checkpoint Five briefly to check on my water supply.  It's good and I'm still feeling pretty good.   Michael passes by as I chatter.  I caught up with and pulled Michael a few miles.  He was feeling much better but he eventually dropped off. 

I stopped again at Checkpoint Six.  All is in working order and I have energy.  It's time to rock.  I quickly recaught Michael and he latched on behind me.  Together we blasted through the remaining miles like it was Duluth, rather than A2A.  It felt so good to roar into the park rather than slog.  6H13m with Dave right behind me and I still felt good.  Can it get any better?