Peachtree Road Race

This weekend was my first time running the Peachtree Road Race. For those of you who aren’t familiar with it, the Peachtree is a 10K race in Atlanta that draws around 55,000 participants and just as many viewers. Due to the number of runners, the race is broken up into multiple groups that start several minutes apart. The competitive runners, whom I refer to as the Kenyans, are the first to start. Then come the serious runners who have qualified by running a certain time in another 10k. After that, it’s just people out for a good time and a nice run or walk. The Kenyans and serious runners are done and stretched out long before most people have even crossed the starting line. The race was a great time and I enjoyed it immensely, especially the runners wearing costumes. I have decided to run the race in costume next year and will be accepting recommendations for a crazy patriotic costume. I try to avoid making negative remarks, but I must address one issue, and I do so with only good intentions in mind. Someone must warn these people that nobody likes them and that their actions do not make them look cool. I refer to this group of people as the “I’m a really good runner look at me running another six miles back to the starting line without my shirt, so you can relish in how great I am people,” but I’ll just call them RGRs for short. The RGRs are not part of a structured organization, but they are unified in their mutual self absorption with their own running abilities and flat abs. Whenever one is trying to look cool, one must consider their audience. Obviously the RGRs have not done this. So I will do it for them. There is no doubt that RGRs possess running endurance beyond that of your average participant. Because of their great abilities, which I’m sure they work quite hard for, the RGRs are usually in one of the first groups to start. They are not the fastest runners there, because they are not Kenyan (despite their deepest desires to be so & even though they read everything they can about the Kenyans and try to emulate their eating and training regimen). Anyways, the RGRs quickly finish the race, a light 6.2 miles. After crossing the finish line, the RGRs jog lightly (because it’s not good for your muscles to stop immediately and they know this because they read Runner’s World) to the station where they get their t-shirt for completing the race. There is nothing wrong with that, they worked hard for it, but it is here that logic seems to leave their brains. I would blame oxygen deprivation, but these guys are RGRs; they’re not even breathing hard. Now the RGRs are faced with a tough decision. They have two shirts and only one body - which shirt will they choose, the sweaty one that shows how hard they worked (if they actually broke a sweat), or the new one that shows they completed the race? Surprisingly, they choose neither. Defying all logic, they take off their current shirt and decide it best to carry both shirts. I know it sounds crazy, but I’m not making this stuff up, it’s true. Many race participants realize that the finish line is a long way from the starting line, and either use MARTA or team up with friends and pre-position a car near the finish line. Not RGRs; they read Runner’s World and know that they need to do a cool down run (plus 6.2 miles wasn’t far enough for these pasta eating running machines anyways). So, in their infinite wisdom, they decide to get on the sidewalk and run back to the starting line while carrying two shirts. They may just be stupid and didn’t think about the whole car being at the starting line thing, but I think not. These guys want you to see their body, infested with abs and other muscles that normal people didn’t know existed. As the RGRs run back to their cars, they must dodge the people lining the sidewalk to cheer on the runners/walkers. The RGRs seem perplexed that these people would dare stand on the sidewalk, which is obviously reserved for people doing cool down runs or trying to get some extra miles in. Then the RGRs look, with utter confusion in their eyes, at the people still running/walking. They turn their heads slightly as they try to figure out how they’ve already run 9 miles and you’ve only done 3. Then it comes to them: “I’m better than those people.” They then decide to put a smug look on their face in hopes that you will think they are super cool and want to whisper amongst yourselves about their greatness. This is where the RGRs should consider the audience they are trying to impress. The people still on the course represent a wide range of people. Some are experienced runners out having a good time and not worried about their time. Others are beginners, struggling through their first race, or walkers who set a goal to complete the Peachtree. These are the people I admire. A 10k is nothing to a RGR, but for the average person it presents a challenge to be conquered. Let’s review the situation. We have a shirtless RGR doing some extra miles and looking smugly at a group of people fighting cramps, dehydration, and demons of doubt as they attempt to complete what to them is a trying event. Each time I saw an RGR, I looked through the crowd around me, surveying their reactions. You wouldn’t believe it. Not a single look of admiration towards the RGR. Is there no respect for shirtless pasta eaters that weigh 100 pounds soaking wet? What I witnessed was bared teeth, clenched fist and general looks of extreme hatred. In fact, had they not been so tired, I do believe the crowd would have attacked the RGR and eaten his flesh for energy. I’m not saying that RGRs don’t deserve our admiration as great athletes; I’m just saying they may want to consider their audience before flaunting about. RGRs must remember that they may be nimble and fast, but they are slight of stature and could be seriously killed if caught by a mob of average Joes.

Matt B