It is time for another guest blog from Mr. Altman. He recently won the 2012 Chickamauga Battlefield Marathon.
Redemption at
Chickamauga
After winning the 2010 Chickamauga Battlefield Marathon, I felt a certain
obligation to go back in 2011. “Defend
the title” if you will. Plus the
competitive side of me liked the thought of being called “Repeat Champion.” I spent early summer of 2011 injured. I developed Achilles Tendonitis in my right
leg that kept me from running for six weeks from June to July. When I finally got back to training, I had a
small hitch in my giddy-up that caused some hamstring soreness in the late
miles of all my long training runs.
Nonetheless, I was able to get through three 20 mile runs and several
workouts that fall, so I decided to stick with it and try the marathon again. The conceited side of me thought that if I
had run 2:39:44 before, then I could at least match that while coming off
injury and a little less trained. I went
out at the same pace I did in 2010; 6 minutes a mile. At mile 18, my hamstring started to tighten
up and I had to slow to 7 minutes a mile for the remainder of the
marathon. As a result, I led the race
for 22 miles until I was passed by James Pearce (who won in 2:39:51). I still managed to get second in 2:45:59, but
finishing the race was the accomplishment that day. I had to spend more than 30 minutes in the medical
tent. I don’t think I’ve ever seen
Kristy so panicked or scared in my life.
I thought about that race for 364 days.
It is easy to remember the wins.
When everything goes as planned, you can celebrate and move on to the
next goal. When things fall apart, you
spend countless hours rehashing what you could have done differently and what you
would do should you be given that opportunity again.
I was healthy all of 2012. I trained
more that summer than I ever have before.
More miles. Faster miles. Determined miles. Not a run went by that I didn’t think about
getting passed after leading for 22 miles.
I set personal bests in the 8K (26:59 at Pigeon Forge Midnight 8K) and
half marathon (1:12:47 at Columbus Half Marathon) in tune-ups prior to the 2012
Chickamauga Battlefield Marathon. I went
into race day confident. I wanted to run
my race. I wanted to start off relaxed,
and finish strong. I wanted to hit that
18 mile mark and feel healthy. I wanted
to get to 22 miles and push the throttle.
I wanted to cross the line and immediately hug my wife and son.
When the cannon sounded, two men went out ahead of me; both of them were
running the half marathon. I keyed off
them but kept my distance as they were running just slightly faster than I
wanted to run. My first 6 mile splits
looked like this: 5:56, 6:01, 5:56, 5:55, 5:56, 6:01. Right after the six mile mark, the half
marathoners went one way, the full marathoners went another. The bike lead who was picking me up said “I
guess you’re my guy.” “Yep,” I
said. “Just you and me.”
As I followed him, my next two miles were 5:56 and 5:58. At mile eight, the marathon course takes an
out and back section. It is
approximately half of a mile in one direction, so the whole section is one mile
once you have doubled back. I was
exiting that section as the second place runner was entering. I knew at that point that I was exactly a
mile ahead, and at least 6 minutes ahead.
Miles 9-14 were 5:57, 6:04, 6:00, 5:54, 6:01, 5:55. Just after mile 14, I saw Kristy at the
northernmost point of the Battlefield loop.
She told me I looked great. I
smiled, nodded my head, and kept on. Miles
15-18 looked like this: 5:58, 5:59, 5:57, 6:06.
This is at the southernmost point of the loop which happens to be the
hilliest section of the course. The 6:06
split for 18 made me a bit nervous, but I took a deep breath, remembered how I
had felt a year earlier, and focused on the job at hand. I would see Kristy again just before mile 20;
keep on pace until then, and then go from there. Mile 19 was 6:02. I saw Kristy at 19.5 and knew that the next
time I would see her would be at the finish line. Mile 20 was 6:01.
As anyone who has run a marathon before knows, the last 10K can be just as difficult
as the first 20 miles. The huge advantage
to a double loop course, in my opinion, is that I am passing lots of half
marathoners at this point in the race.
They were great. All of them
cheering me on and shouting words of encouragement. Mile 21 was a 6:12. At 21.5, I am again exiting that out and back
section. There is no sign of the second
place runner. I know that I am at least
a mile (and at least 6 minutes) ahead of second place. My guess was that I had doubled that gap
since the first time going in and out of that section. I wasn’t feeling great. And I knew with the advantage that I had,
that even pulling off the throttle some would enable me to coast in for a
victory. The worst thing to do at this
point is overdo it and end up not being able to finish the race. Mile 22 was another 6:12. Even though I wasn’t feeling great (of course
not…it was mile 22 of a marathon!), as I passed that exact spot that James
Pearce had passed me the year before, I felt a sense of rejuvenation. Finish strong. Let’s do this. Mile 23 was a 6:07. Mile 24 was a 6:05. During the last two miles, the course exits
the Battlefield loop and goes through an off-road section that was rocky,
muddy, and slippery. Nonetheless, I was
passing tons of half marathoners and felt the synergy between them, the
spectators, and myself. Mile 25 was a
6:16. Mile 26 was a 6:28. I rounded the corner onto Barnhardt Circle
with a completely different feeling than I had had the year before. As I turned to the finish line, I saw Kristy
and Jackson about 50 yards short of the line.
She was cheering but screaming at me.
I recognized the scream and knew it meant one of only two things: There
was a guy on my heels, or I was about to hit a significant time goal. Either way, I had to hammer it home. I ran the last 0.2 at a 5:41 pace; good
enough to hit the line in 2:38:52. As
soon as I finished, I gave my wife a hug and a kiss. I kneeled down and gave Jackson a hug and put
the finisher medal around his neck. I
felt amazing. I felt redeemed. I felt fresh.
I even played with Jackson on the bounce houses less than an hour
later. Second place ended up being
2:56. While I didn’t have anyone pushing
me on that day, it was a day that I was not going to be denied.
As I write this, it has been six weeks since I won that race. I don’t have any regrets about my training,
my race plan, or my performance this time.
Some days I remember “I won a marathon recently.” Some days I don’t.
