May of 1989 my friend Bill and I were in the middle of a three mile run on the Clarkston High School track. Out of nowhere, we decided it would be fun to run the Peachtree Road Race on the 4th of July that year. We had just started running roughly a month earlier. To date we had never run the requisite six miles of a 10K race. A greater issue came in that we did not have a “number” to participate in the race. Due to its popularity, the roster for America’s Largest 10K fills up as soon as the applications become available in March.
Bill decided since we hadn’t trained properly anyway we should go renegade and run without bibs. “We’ll be scabs,” he said, proudly, as we labored through our run. So we did. That marked the beginning of twenty years of running Atlanta’s premier road race. I missed three races over those two decades. Once I didn’t get my application in on time, while in college I stopped running and was grossly out of shape and in 2004 I ran a different race on the 4th of July. That one went up and down Mount Marathon in Seward, Alaska.
After last year’s race I decided that twenty years had been enough. I awoke early this past Sunday and tried to convince myself I was happy not to have any of the pre-race stress, or to have to fool with traffic congestion and so forth. It didn’t work. I ached.
For the holiday weekend I was out of town for a family reunion. Each morning I did the Insanity workout and did not run at all. Then I ended up sitting around more than I have in years. During this reflective time I realized I love running and I miss the Peachtree. When the weekend called for group activities I realized it’s no accident I run. It engages the body and mind and it’s the perfect loner sport.
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