Let me warn you that this is about 5000 words.
Let me begin with the start of the weekend.
The training plan had me doing one last 3 mile run on
Saturday, November 22. It was a rather
cold morning, so I had on an Under Armour shirt
and a windbreaker, gloves, a hat, and running tights. The run felt effortless other than dealing
with the cold.
Then, I showered and had a quick breakfast (I don’t recall
what I had) and took my 15 year old to the zoo for his volunteer work that he
does every Saturday. Came home from that
and washed some dishes. Saw my wife and
nine year old off to look at used ski wear.
Packed my bags and went to the Waldorf School for the annual fair where
I worked in the children’s shopping room and then drove to my Godmother’s house
in Upper Darby. At two Clif Bars along
the way for lunch. My Godmother lives
less than a half mile from the house I lived in longest with my parents. After a brief greeting (it was just a little
past two), she drove me down to the Pennsylvania Convention Center to pick up
my race pack. The drive was horrendous
as we got east of 20th street and headed for the convention
center.
I eventually got out about a block ahead of the convention
center on 11th (coming from the south) and went in. I picked up my bib number and my bag, and got
some additional cold running gear and a “go belt” that would hold me four gels
the next morning.
I knew a number of people who would be at the race the next
day but didn’t see anyone I knew at the expo.
That was okay. I only knew a
handful of people and I had not made prior arrangements to see anyone. I went back outside and waited for my
Godmother to come around the block. Then
she took me to Tony Luke’s to grab dinner.
This is a really well known sandwich shop in South Philly. Some of the characteristics reminded me of
the soup Nazi episode on Seinfeld. At
that time of day it wasn’t overly crowded.
So the line was a bit informal.
The cashier asked everyone “What can I do for you, baby?” Or she used some other term of endearment
every time she spoke to a customer.
Then, the sandwiches would get made and a second person would call out
names. She seemed to have only one
volume—loud. I suppose in the summer
with the plastic tent that surrounded the place open it would make sense to be
loud. Or if someone were around the
corner from the window getting pickles.
My Godmother had ordered two pork and provolone sandwiches with
spinach. She doesn’t like broccoli rabe
and I decided not to question the choice although several people pointed out
how unusual the choice of spinach seemed.
We drove back to her house and ate. The person who had developed my training plan
had told me to eat no less than 12 hours before the race. We were done well before 7 PM. It was not exactly carb loading, but it was a
wonderful and filling sandwich. This
pork sandwich (and the pork was nicely spiced with pepper) was as big as a full
sized hoagie. Then we watched two
recorded episode s of Hawaii Five-O and then I went to sleep after taking a
picture of “flat runner” with what I would wear the next day laid out on the
bed.
Asleep by 9:30 on Saturday night. Plan to be at the race
start by 5:30 the next morning.
I woke up at 1:50.
Then I woke up again before 3. Then, finally, I got out of bed at 3:15. Goal was to eat a little something 4 hours
before the race. I didn’t quite manage
that but I had two pieces of toast with margarine at that early hour. All good.
I then wanted to take a quick “wake me up” shower. I don’t always do that before a race but it
just felt like the thing to do. My
Godmother lives in a house with narrow steps to the upstairs room that have
somewhat worn carpet at the edges. I
slipped coming down the steps to take my shower. Where I hit my hip on the step
when I fell still hurts more than anything else. Did it affect me in the race? I’ll never know. I did feel it. But I didn’t let it distract me.
Shower done before 4.
Then hanging until 4:45. Tried to
get everything other than what I had just consumed that was still anywhere in
my digestive tract or intestine out.
Drive downtown.
Incredibly quick. Drank a half
liter of water on the way. (Check on
hydration.) Dropped off at 22nd
and Arch well before 5:30. No real line
at the security check point. I opened my
bad for the security person to look in.
He didn’t even really look but waved me through.
I walked toward Eakins oval.
It was still not 5:30 yet. I knew
where I’d drop off my bag. I knew where
the porta-potties were. And I tried to
relax. It was cold and the wind started
picking up. Without the wind it was not
so bad. I ran through what I wanted to
wear. Go Belt packed with 4 gels. Decided not to carry phone. Didn’t have keys with me anyway. Decided I could lose the sweatshirt I’d
brought. Decided not to lose the sweatpants.
Decided to go with arm warmers, gloves, and hat as planned the night
before in my flat runner picture. All
go.
A couple trips to the porta-potty before much line. (My system was always needed to be cleaned
out like that—even as far back as high school track meets.) Then one last trip at about 6:20. A little earlier than planned. But after that the line was incredibly
long. Couldn’t plan to go again. Would have to take my chances. Checked my bag at the FARM to FUHR UPS
truck. And headed for the maroon
corral.
When I got to the black corral, I managed to make my way to
the front and didn’t see where the break was.
I asked a volunteer (preceding my question with “This is probably a
stupid question, but…) and was directed to the right. I realized it was the first corral but it was
incredible to be so close to the start of a 30,000 person race. My bib number was 607, so I had earned it.
I met up with Saturday Steve from Baltimore. It was great to see someone I knew. We exchanged greetings. It was now 6:45. Time to consume two gels. Then I listened to a variety of people from
the race. The MC. The race director. The governor elect. The mayor.
(He was really energetic.) Then
an excellent tenor singing the national anthem.
Next, the wheel racers got a start just before 7 with Rocky music blaring.
After the wheel racers headed out, it was time for the
runners to get ready. A couple of elite
runners started a bit before intended and were called back. We all waited patiently. Then, the Rocky trumpets again. The race began.
I had spent the time in the corral as the race start
approached looking for one of my training partners. I have known Jackie since 2011. She is the Executive Director of Back on My
Feet in Baltimore. She has held a number
of positions within the local branch of the national organization in the time I
have known her. I have known her as my
part-time MPH program advisee. I
attended her wedding. I have seen her
develop professionally. She is an
endless source of energy and optimism.
And I had trained with her at least once a week for much of the summer
and fall. She had told me that her main
goal was to help to make sure I achieved my goal. Two years ago she had run an incredible race
in Philadelphia. She did not plan to set
a personal best yesterday as that was not her goal for this year. But I did not see her. I’d received a text from her earlier offering
good luck and saying that she hoped to see me.
But I didn’t see her yet.
Despite not being that far back, it seemed to take forever
before the people directly in front of me moved and I could begin jogging and
head into a run. The official timer had
me 42 seconds behind the actual race start.
That was a long 42 seconds. Those
of you who read The Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy know that 42 was the
answer to life the universe and everything.
It really was yesterday.
We headed from the area near the Art Museum toward the
Delaware. First mile felt easy enough
once I got my pace and I understood that at one point runners could choose
which side of a traffic circle to go around.
Time—7:14 down the Ben Franklin Parkway.
My coach had told me to think about trying to run 7:09’s for the first seven
miles. I didn’t let a few seconds in the
first mile phase me at all.
Second mile actually takes you close to the water. Again, felt effortless which is what the
person who had planned my training had told me to look for. First fun sign—“WORST PARADE EVER”. Ran a 7:04.
Perfect for a 7:09 average at the two mile point.
The fact that my last bathroom stop before the race was
“early” finally caught up to me. Yes, it
was only a little over two miles in, but I was feeling like I was going to have
to go at some point so I might as well stop.
There were porta-potties but there were all in use. So, I did what several other guys were doing
and just peed against the wall. Not
pretty—but effective. And not so
different than what happens in Boston.
That cost about 30-40 seconds, but I ran the rest of mile 3
going down Columbus Boulevard strong and came through with a 7:17. Didn’t phase me as I felt great.
Mile 4 continued along Columbus, just a block from the
riverfront, past some places I’d been for conferences then turned back into the
city. One person said, “mile 4 is just
around the corner”. That was a bogus
comment, although I didn’t let the fact that mile 4 was not, in fact, just
around the corner phase me.
Time—7:03. Still feeling
effortless.
Mile 5—I don’t remember much specifically and I ran a
7:07.
Mile 6—7:11. That was
probably the first time I noticed this one woman I played leap frog with for
much of the race. She ended up coming in
a couple of minutes ahead.
Mile 7—the last of what had been planned as care free miles
at the start. Ran it in 7:00. I knew that I was playing a dangerous game
with speeds that fast. But it just felt
so easy. 20 weeks of training was paying
off. I just had to avoid pushing too
hard.
When mile 7 ends, the course for the first time takes a
definite and long upward turn as runners go through University City and head
north. There is a climb of about 100
feet that proceeds pretty gradually but is the entire mile. I believe it was during mile 8 that I saw
Marcus for the first time. I used to
train with Marcus but he is injured right now.
His wife was running. I was glad
to have a friendly face I knew cheering me on as we ran up toward the zoo. Mile 8 with its climb—7:05. Surprised myself on that one.
The start of mile 9.
Time to figure out how to take my first gel on the course. I peeled off my gloves and pulled whichever
of the two gels I reached out of the holder in the Go Belt. It took me at least half of mile 9 to get the
gloves off, get it out, rip the top off, and consume it. Mile 9 is mostly down with an up at the
end. Cruising at 6:58 based on my
Garmin. Really took advantage of the downhill. The person who developed my plan had told me
to take advantage. She had spent a lot
of time listening to my trials and tribulations of trying to get better results
out of marathons and noting how hard it was for me to close. She didn’t want me to have to crush the end
to meet my goal.
On to mile 10 with the gloves back on. This was another mostly up around the south
side of Fairmount Park. Not much to say
other than that I pushed and got 7:13.
Not bad at all.
Mile 11 is largely flat and takes you to the south side of
the Schuylkill River. Recovered and ran 6:55.
Strictly too fast but was still feeing awesome.
Miles 12 and 13 are a run mostly along the river and flat
although mile 13 does start up toward the Art Museum as the half marathon
runners are turning to finish. I ran
each of those in 7:09. Thought I was hitting my stride. I noted the half marathon marker on the
marathon course as I ran over it for a time.
Knew that I had a really good time.
The official results from today say 1:33:51. I’ve only had three half marathon races that
I race faster than that. And the one
time I ran with Jackie just for kicks to prove I could hold 7:00 for the entire
distance.
So, on into the second half.
The remainder of mile 14 and all through mile 17 was pretty flat. A slight rolling hill. Looking at the markers for the miles on the
way back. Wondering when I would see the
lead runner coming the other way. Did
see a wheel racer who was cruising the downhill and encouraged all the runners
as he went by. So different from earlier
in the race when I’d passed wheel racers going up hills and tried to encourage
them. Those miles went by like
clockwork. 14—6:59. 15—7:05.
16—7:05. 17—7:10.
At this point, I had been taking either Gatorade or water
with Gatorade more frequently at ever station.
Now, my stomach was starting to slosh.
And I knew there was an odd loop coming and some more hills. Just trying to focus.
Start of mile 18.
Time for the last gel. This time,
my stomach was continuing to slosh and it was hard to get the gel down. The one with caffeine had been consumed back
at mile 9. This one had B complex
vitamins and electrolytes. Hoping for
the best. Mile 18 does this odd thing
where you cross the Schuylkill, do a loop around a turn around point, and then
go back. What I didn’t realize before
hand was that the loop away from the point where I crossed the river was down
and then I had to climb back up. I had
been passing people more than being passed from about mile 6 to where I
was. Now, people were starting to pass
me. As I was going back up the hill back
toward the river, I heard Jackie yell at my from the downside of the hill. Excellent!
Maybe she would catch me and we could run the rest of this race
together. I’d wait and see. Finished mile 18 on the north side of the
river—7:22. Starting to be concerned.
Mile 19 was a continuing run a bit up into Manayunk. My officla time at 30K suggests that overall
I was keeping a 7:09 pace. Clearly I had
bought myself some time early. The key
question now was whether I had tried to bank too much and would just fade as I
had done in my previous marathons. I
wasn’t able to regain any speed at this point.
Only lost a little bit as I ran a 7:24.
Wondering where the final turn around was.
So, I turned at the last place where there was a turnaround
pole. I think there were a total of
three on the course. The hill in
Manayunk is noticeable but not really that bad.
I heard Jackie call to me again as I was in the earliest art of running
back toward downtown. She was a little
closer. Maybe she would catch me soon. Mile 20 was completed as I was running back
toward the main part of the city—7:34.
So, now heading a
little more down than up along Main Street.
Mile 21 I did get a little back and ran 7:25. Maybe, just maybe I could still do this. The woman with whom I’d played leap from most
of the day passed me for the last time.
I know her only as Megan. She was
a solid (and more consistent) runner.
As I completed that mile and headed into mile 22 things
began to get a little surreal. I
remembered the Lower Potomac River Marathon when I qualified for Boston. I had reached a point at which all I focused
on was getting under 3:15 (what I needed to qualify for Boston). While that day I was not running against my
friend Rob, I had beaten him in several 20 mile or longer races. And I thought it would be cool to have a
faster Boston Qualifying time than he did.
That didn’t happen that day as I faded but hung on for dear life and it
was the only time that the mileage after 26 was run at a sub-7 pace in my 5
previous marathons. I began to wonder if
just getting a personal best would be okay.
If I could just make it. How much
could I slow down and still be okay.
All that was going through my head as I ran mile 22—out of
Manayunk and continuing back toward to much sought after finish line. I was losing it. I ran a 7:36.
At this point it was a matter of trying to figure out if I
had anything left. I’d passed two people
I spent some time this summer training with.
My “surrogate running daughter” for the Father’s Day race and our mutual
friend Travis. They encouraged me and
later posted that I looked strong. I
suppose a 7:36 that far into the race might look strong but I wasn’t feeling it
there.
Then, I heard that familiar voice—“How are you feeling,
Kevin?” It was Jackie. She had caught up
to me. And she was asking one of the
most common questions runners ask each other.
I told her I wasn’t sure what I had left. I told her I’d felt great early but was
paying for it now. I believe she said
something to the effect of, “You’ve got this.
You’ve worked too hard not to get this.”
That was all she needed to say.
But to me it was a reminder. A
reminder that I’d trained harder than ever for 20 weeks. I’d gotten up at crazy early hours and run
the 20 mile race on Labor Day weekend, plus another 20 and another 20 and a 22
and a 24. She’d run several of those
with me. She’d done track workouts with
me. She’d done progressions and tempos
with me. And not only was it my work at
stake it was hers. And it was Shannon’s too.
Shannon had helped me plan for this.
And it was Lauren’s—who had run with me.
And Travis. And Melissa. And my friend Joselyn with whom I’d been
running since the summer of 2011. And my
family and all that they had to deal with in terms of my running. Jackie said, “This is what you’ve worked
for!” And we went.
I don’t know where it came from. But I stabilized what had otherwise been a
slide for most of the past five miles and ran a 7:33 for mile 23. My friend Marcus was there again (he’d ridden
his bike). He gave a big cheer.
We reached a guy running shirtless with “VEGAN POWER” written in black on his
back. He asked what was keeping us going
and if he could borrow some. Jackie said
sure. But he didn’t stay with us for
long.
Somehow for miles 24 and 25 I ran 7:15 and 7:17. I don’t know where the energy came from to
bring my pace back down more than 15 seconds per mile. I do know that it is always easier for me to
run with someone. Particularly someone
whom I know can run faster than I can.
Particularly someone with whom it is just a joy to run. Every once in a while Jackie would pull just
a little ahead. Then, I’d come up even
with her. Then she’d pull ahead
again. Never so far as to lose me. Always making sure that I got pulled along.
Not physically pulled along. That brought back a memory of
my first 5K run at a practice in high school at which one of the upper classmen
did essentially pull me along physically.
This was all mental.
As we entered mile 26, I asked her “You don’t mind if I collapse
on you when we finish, do you?” She
said, “No, that’s why I’m here.” We
continued on.
Another Penn State sign.
More Back on My Feet cheers. We
passed a couple of local guy who runs with Falls Road. (Can’t say this was all in the last mile but
it was definitely as we approached the end.)
More cheers. We pushed. I felt
just a little off.
Having a Garmin 10 I don’t have all of total time and pace
and distance on my watch at the same time.
I kept switching back and forth to reassure myself that there was a
chance. My watch beeped for 26 before
the sign. I’d slipped back to 7:24.
But that was not because of how I was running when we got to
the 26 sign. As soon as I’d seen the
sign for 26, whatever I had left got turned on.
My watch had us running 26.36 total.
According to my watch, I ran the 0.36 miles between when it says I ran
26 and the finish line in 2:21. That is
a 6:27 mile pace. I could see the finish
line. I could tell that we had a
sub-3:10 as a possibility. The finish
line was wide open. There were no
chutes. There was no one to take the bib
or any part of it. No timing chips to
rip off. Just a clear finish line. I could see the time. I knew that I was going to get under 3:10 if
I just pushed because of what I thought was a 38 second difference between my
watch and the race clock.
For once, I raised my arms above my head in joy as I passed
the finish line. We had done it. 3:09:49.
(Although at the time I thought it was 52. I’d started my watch at the first place rather
than the second where we passed a timing device at the starting line.)
I didn’t collapse.
I did need help.
Jackie guided me through.
A heat sheet. (Mylar.) The medal.
A bottle of water. A banana. A Macy’s bag with an OJ and a bad of
chips. A soft pretzel. And then we got to the broth.
Jackie described what it had done for her after a previous
race. Warmth was good. Salt was
golden.
We ran into Saturday Steve.
He’d had a good race. We ran into
our friend Curt. He had been aiming for
2:50. He didn’t get it but he ratcheted
back to a 2:54. He took a picture for us
after I claimed my bag with my iPhone in it.
Jackie went back out on the course to find Patrick. He ran a pretty good race.
I finally sat on the curb to put warmer clothes on. Messaged my Godmother. Walked to 22nad and Chestnut and waited in the
sun.
A few other interesting facts. First, two other fun signs: I thought you said “RUM” and The Pain is Temporary but Internet Race
Results are Forever.
At one point I saw people with a Penn State banner and
shouted “We Are”. The answered with the
obligatory “Penn State.” They had a fair
number of members of their club cross country teams there.
Got a lot of shout outs for my Back on My Feet shirt. Even saw what looked like a whole cheering
section from the Philadelphia group.
Afterwards, I received many congratulatory comments. But I really owe this one—as I mentioned—to
my immediate family, Jackie, Shannon, my Godmother, Lauren, Travis, Melissa,
and Joselyn. On Joselyn’s FB page, my
time came up and she posted “My running partner…Way to go.”
I even would mention my boss. We talk about how sometimes we try, fail, and
fix. That is what I did after NCR
Marathon 2011. Even after I qualified
for Boston in 2012, I tried to fix my fading at the end. Didn’t work at Boston. This time, I fixed it. And it worked. And it was amazing.
Yesterday, I had numerous people who believed I had done
everything I needed to in order to achieve the goal.
Everyone other than me.
Now I believe.
But I mustn’t let it go to my head. Instead, it is just a sign that I must always
work this hard, stay focused, and not settle to achieve goals in life.
