Peachtree Road Race. A Fourth of July tradition with 60,000 of your closest friends.
And sweatiest friends for sure.
Ran the Peachtree for the first time in about five years today. And it really was great fun.
Decided I’ve got to do this every year.
The first time I ran it was in 1988. I had just gotten in engaged two days before to John Miles.
We ran it together till Mile 5, when he thought he wouldn’t get a t-shirt (back then you had to finish in 55 minutes to get a t-shirt) and he left me.
For the record, he might have got his shirt first, but we both got the green shirt that year.
No idea where either of those shirts is . . .
Now I was sure it was going to pour.
But it never did.
Walking under that flag never gets old.
Bumped into my next door neighbor.
Who is speedy fast so he said, “hi.” Took a pic. And ran on.
We don’t look so bad for just getting up that darn Piedmont Hospital Hill.
Finally, made the turn and headed down to the mud pit, er, Piedmont Park.
Now I know how Seattle Slew felt on a sloppy track.
Well, if I was a gifted athlete who happened to be a horse then I would know exactly how he felt.
Kind of like Woodstock without the music, drugs (except Ibuprofen) and nudity — for which we can all be thankful.
Yes. After today, my childhood friend can check the Peachtree of her bucket list and I can start my streak of running them again at one.
Have you ever run the 6.2 down Peachtree?
