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elkid
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Joined: 18 Nov 2002
Posts: 8353
Location: hiding out in Philly
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 Posted: 11/22/04 - 10:40 Post subject: Philadelphia Marathon = PR
What an interesting day I had. After a huge get together on Saturday where I could only briefly talk to people (that many people) I went home, went to dinner with The Paramedic, and went to bed at 1030. I woke up at 145 because I had discovered what had been bothering me all week: I didn't want to run this race. I was burned out, exhausted, and after NYCM 2 weeks ago a bit apathetic running-wise. But as I'd signed up, had to do it. I got up and was dilly-dallying so I left the house late. Stopped at DD for breakfast and set off for downtown. I saw a sign on 95S and my sleep-deprived brain convinced me I had missed my exit. I turn around, get back on 95N and realize I had been wrong. It's 710, race starts at 8. I am so confused I call The Paramedic in tears screaming about how I didn't know where I was. After carefully explaining what I needed to do, he asked "Do you want me to pick you up? You don't sound so good." No, I replied, I'm doing the race because I signed up for it.
I get to 16th & Callowhill and miraculously find free parking at this late hour. Two of my proteges were running the 8K, and I called one telling him I was on my way. The 10 block powerwalk served as my warmup. Arrive at 730, and immediately jump in the portajohn lines as I'm downing my coffee way too fast. My stomach was queasy as my bagel wasn't sitting right. I finally finish my coffee and drink a bottle of water. Now I'm nauseous. Race starts, and I'm still in line. Oh well, I have a chip, no big deal. I hand my bag to protege who kindly offered to put it in baggage check. I decide my strategy now: trust my training, run at a pace that feels good, and then slow down when I had to. Not the brightest, but it would work. I doubleknot my shoelaces, check to make sure I have everything, and go to start my race thinking I can't wait to be home already.
I cross the start line and start my watch. Which immediately resets itself. Since I had forgotten my HRM strap I had taken off the watch, and I think oh dear god I cannot run without a watch. Luckily in 10 seconds I can start it. We take off down Parkway until we hit Arch. We make a left onto 4th and hit the first waterstation, which I skip as it is a nightmare. Quick right onto Race and allllll the way down to turn right onto Delaware Avenue at Penns Landing under the Ben Franklin Bridge. We turn right onto Washington Avenue and hit the second water station right past - I kid you not - Water Street, and I skip that one, too. We turn right onto Front Street. A few locals are out cheering us on, which is the first big crowd we've seen since leaving the race start. The crowd support for this race is not the best, and after NYCM it's a little disarming. We turn left onto South Street at Downey's Pub and pass some of my favorite restaurants in the city. I'm feeling OK, and going pretty fast. I know I won't be able to sustain the pace, but I'm hoping I build up enough time in the bank to guarantee me a PR (though I'm still stupidly thinking sub-5 despite the week and morning I've had).
We turn down 6th so we can get on Chestnut, which we run for 28 blocks. As we turn right onto 34th Street, I realize how much of this course I had forgotten. Particularly the long steady climb up 34th Street through Fraternity Row and to the zoo. Not a bad climb, but a steady unexpected one. Past the zoo and into Fairmount Park. What a beautiful section of the city, even for a nature hater like me. A couple of small hills that I also don't remember, and then the steep descent out of the park under Route 76 that I did remember (ow ow ow what a quad killer). We turn right onto my beloved West River Drive, where I run so many races each year. My times are holding, but I'm tired. I've had a headache for a week which is now worsening, and my hips are a little sore. I hit the halfway point, realize there is NO WAY I can sustain this pace for another 13.1, but figure unless something goes horribly wrong I have a PR. And there's still a shot at a sub 5.
At mile 14 we pass the Art Museum (which is also the finish). People are indeed finishing, and I want to trip them. I am thankful no one is here yet to cheer me on (The Paramedic was coming, at my request, just for the finish) because I know I look pretty bad. By mile 15 I had one thought: I want out. I am tired, in pain, and the thought of the long out-and-back through Manayunk and back via Kelly Drive, aka Desolation Drive, is more than I can bear. Physically I had this race, but mentally it had been a struggle since the start and now I was really feeling the mental game for all it was worth. But I shuffle on.
I readjust my strategy: walk 2 minutes for one mile, then 2 minutes through the next mile's water station, then run a mile, repeat. This would give me the opportunity to widen my stride (which had by now drastically shortened) and let me stretch my aching hips. My hamstrings were very tight, and my butt was killing me. I was swelling up, so my feet and abs hurt, as did my lower back. My chest was screaming, too. My fingers were scaring me, because they were very swollen. Despite still being sick to my stomach, I know I have to down 2 cups of Gatorade at each water station. I'm praying this will keep me going, on my feet, and out of the med tent. Yet ... Sub 5. Sub 5. I keep thinking Sub 5.
From mile 16 on, every bike I see I think if I stole that and rode it down to Manayunk, would anyone notice? I wish I had thought to bring money so I could bribe someone to give me a ride down there for a short rest. I follow my walk-walk-run strategy all the way down to Manayunk and mutter "thank god" as we hit the turnaround just past mile 20. I know the worst part of the race is to come. Not because it's the final 10K, but because it's so barren in terms of support (hence why I call it Desolation Drive). At mile 21 my lovely beerman is there, and I have a few sips of beer which picks me up a bit. I am in incredible pain, which I can ignore, but I have to constantly tell my head that I need to keep going. What a mental struggle. At 22 my friend Diane passes me, and I scream "HEY!" I think I scare her; she passes me with a wave and continues. By 23 I'm so frustrated. I know how close I am, but how far away I am, too.
24 hits and I realize I'm almost done. I have lost most of my focus, but still see a sub 5 is possible. The idiot I am, I'm still shooting for it. Mile 25 and it's still possible. I decide to run the rest and not stop because I feel like I'm about to fall over. I keep on, keep on shufflin' down the road. Finally I see the art museum looming in the distance and know I'm almost home. I see the barricade and know the end is near. Up the final stretch I try to straighten out as best as I can, and then I see the clock. I doublecheck my watch, and know I've somehow managed to hang in for the sub 5 I've chased. The Paramedic took a bunch of pictures from me during the final .1, and my smile got bigger and bigger as I approached the finish line. It was quite an effort, but I'd done it. At my 65th road race (my 70th overall) I'd shaved another 13:33 off my marathon PR I'd reset just 2 weeks ago, and beaten last year's time for this race by 25:42. Even if my heart hadn't been in it, and even though my head fought me for most of the race.
Stats: 4:58:44, 11:24 pace, 5,632/6,202 (beat 9%). Mile 10 1:48:09, half 2:22:41, mile 20 3:44:17. 10:19, 10:39, 10:52, 10:52, 10:49, 10:49, 10:41, 10:58, 10:45, 11:26, 11:01, 11:08, 11:11, 11:07, 11:08, 12:09, 12:21, 11:36, 12:33, 11:57, 11:46, 11:58, 11:10, 12:31, 12:33, 14:25 (1.2)
Thus endeth fall racing season, my miracle season. Despite the race I had with my third marathon, this was the place and the way to end the season. With a PR, and with a lot of work. For someone so focused on the experience, I really only took the opportunity to revel in the opportunity at NYCM. At all other races I competed, and competed hard: quite a change of pace. 13 races in 13 weeks, all course PRs. Distance PRs a plenty: 1 8K, 1 10K, 2 5K, 2 marathon, and 3 halfs. Despite my life I thrived, raising money for charity and as the season went on getting stronger, faster, and more competitive. It's going to be hard to top this season, for sure. Now I get to sit back and relax, as winter season is laidback with no pressure. 7 weeks to Disney, and I'm resting up.
Next up: taking an easy week then the Dirty Bird 8.88M trail race in Birdsboro, PA on 11/28.
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That's great! 
