Philadelphia Distance Run, 9/21/08
Since the theme color for the Philly Distance Run this year is orange, I thought it appropriate, even though I'm not normally an "orange person," to write my report in orange, a citrus-y report, perhaps, fresh squeezed.A few quick details:
Chip time was 2:07:20, age grade percentage, ~66%, and 33/182 among women 55-59
Temperature at the start 63, temp at finish 70 (oh, that's not my body temp, by the way)
About 17000 or so runners participated, and the times ranged from 1:01something to 4hrs/something. (As is clear, I am a stickler for accuracy.)
My best half marathon since turning 55 nearly 3 years ago. I've had a series of half marathons with slower times due to various factors: injuries and illnesses from which I hadn't fully recovered, a meltdown in 2005 when I started out too fast and became overheated and almost dropped out...a Caesar Rodney half in 2007 just on the heels of bronchitis, that, to my surprise, still netted me an award for second place in my age group despite my slowest ever time of 2:53ish... That actually was a fun half in its own odd way: I found a nice quality Nike headband on the course, and later, the Hash House Harriers made the slogging, trudging final mile bearable with a cup not just of water but of amber ale--after which any and all speeds were acceptable!
So although I had fallen out of contact with that glorious sub-2:10 realm that I used to inhabit, never mind the sub-2 hour realm--that is a long-gone vestige of my forties--I had my fun, but it was time for a concerted effort to speed up some. Not superwoman stuff, even though a team-mate teases me about visualizing 1:45--which would take a lot of visualizing, possibly even LSD or some such hallucinogen. But the only LSD I can handle now is Lydiard's version--Long Slow Distance. And even at that--like the hallucinogenic LSD trip, this running version has me awakening the next day somewhat stiff and sore, my aging body vaguely remembering being put through a wringer, inhabited by that younger, more innocent self who sneaks in and takes my body for a joy ride.
I like my younger, irrepressible self, though, like her enough to keep her around a while, especially after seeing the results of her recklessness, her joy rides on the roads and the track, her love for the chase. Even if, like your crazy young niece or nephew who comes to visit, she double dog dares you to try things you know you'll regret and leaves you a little hung over. You think, "the kid's too much for me" even while you think "when's she coming back?"
Oh yeah, the race itself....
I lined up in my "zip code corral," no. 11 (appropriate, as 11 is my birthday month), with my zip code race number 11104, prepared to shuffle to the start before taking off at a blistering 11:30 pace as I worked my way through the throngs. But following the start, the shuffle soon deteriorated into a standstill, and even if chip timing was in effect, I kind of wanted a little less distance between chip and clock time than, let's say, 2 hours or so. Thinking that even for the most saintly-patient runner, a standstill is a little too slow of a pace, I decided to work my way up to a walk, then finally, when I reached the chip mat, something approaching a jog.
Once on the way, I found my way to the side of the road, where the runner traffic seemed a little more negotiable (following the tangents, as experienced runners advise, might have been good if that didn't require tangential back-and-forths to weave one's way past the crowds). .At times, continuous movement required a jump onto the sidewalk alongside the course--although this strategy required some thought too, as occasionally some startled coffee-carrying pedestrian would look up from her reverie to be confronted by a wild-eyed runner. The city portion of the PDR course is pure street theatre with participants and spectators becoming interchangeable parts of the show.
Somehow, though, I managed to get myself into a sub-10 minute mile pace, not by much but enough for the time being, hitting 5k in ~30 mins. and soon enough, with much relief, turning on (I think) 16th Street to head for the river drives.
Once on Martin Luther King or as it's still sometimes called, West River Drive, I have reached my favorite section of this race--past the street theatre, past the whoops and shouts, I am among the trees, near the river, the site of so many long runs, and I am home... well, on this day, with about 17,000 of my closest friends.... but the time along the river helps me keep focused, and of course I know that once I've reached the river, it's the home stretch--even if the race is less than half over.
Such is my focus, in fact, that when I see a $5 bill lying on the ground several feet away, although the thought crosses my mind to sidestep over and grab it, I decide not to--thinking I could cause a pile-up of oncoming runners, and (here's where that competitive nature mentioned a couple of posts ago rears its head) I think of the time it could cost me. I'll pay an extra five dollars if it will help my race time... and who knows, maybe someone else will find it who desperately needs bus fare home or coffee at Starbuck's.
But never mind the five dollars... I have my eyes on the road ahead, and the Falls Bridge. The PDR offers runners entertainment with a wonderfully diverse variety of bands, but none of them can compete with my favorite performer of all: the Bagpipe Man! When I hear the notes of the bagpipe waft toward me on the bridge, my pace quickens. The bagpipe player has been a faithful PDR performer long before the bands, serenading many thousands of runners who might have begun to flag. At the Falls Bridge, we once again encounter a gauntlet of cheering spectators who, together with the Bagpipe Man, offer a shot of adrenaline.
The park sections of the race, though, for the most part, are where runners are down to business, and the chatter, although still present, seems more muted, replaced by collective breathing and the drumbeat of footfalls, and somehow too this moving body of collective energy sustains me.
On Kelly Drive, it isn't just the official race mile markers that tell me I'm getting closer. It's also the appearance of those familiar landmarks--St. Joe's boathouse, the grandstand, the dancing angels, finally, Boathouse Row, and I know.... it's a turn around the Art Museum... Under my breath, I encourage my now rebelling body... "Come on, you're almost there... this is IT... you have it. Keep going, keep going! Confidence!" And then, at last, the sharp turn into the finish area, the last chip mat... stopping the watch... and I'm there!
Looking at the watch, I see that second digit-- a zero for the first time since 2004, 2:07:22, not 2:17 like last year. (Later, I learn that the chip time is two seconds faster than my watch time... I'll take whatever boost the race gives me!)
I have a special satisfaction in my time improvement. I followed a kind of hybridized schedule stitched together from the Tuesday night workouts, Matt Fitzgerald's Brain Training for Runners, a snippet of "Summer of Malmo" (which contributed the idea of doubling on Tuesday), and the marathon schedule that Dave Thomas set up for the training group he had planned for this fall--plus some advice from Dave and several others in person and online.
Overall, I raised my mileage higher than I've had it in a while, and thanks be to God, managed not to get hurt or sick before the race. Thanks to Dave for that too--he advised me to taper, rather than train through.
I sometimes look at the faster runners with envy, but I also feel grateful to God that I can stay in this game, challenge myself, and sometimes still surprise myself. At times, during the race, I thought of Catherine Ndrereba's appearance at the expo, and what she said about running being a gift and her way of glorifying God. As I ran in this race, wearing the number she autographed, I thought of the gift that this race was to me as well, even though I was much further back in the pack than she was. I was running, healthy, pursuing a goal, as all the others around me were, and it was glorious to be there! And I also thank my younger, crazy, irrepressible, double-dog-daring-me self, who won't take no for an answer.
posted by DPMcManus @ 7:02 PM
5 Comments:
Diane, it sounds like you had a pretty good race... especially if you're telling DRS that you're considering TSDKTM! On another note, how did I miss the Hash House Harriers? That final mile is kinda hellish, since it's the only thing resembling a hill on that course. It would have gone down so much better if I had found the only thing resembling a beer at that race! :(
Hi Ron--
I think I got lucky!
When I reached the (I think?) last water stop in that race, I jokingly asked the volunteers if they had any beer, and one guy said, "Sure, what kind do you want?" Ha! Not only did they have beer, but they had a CHOICE! I doubt I'd have known if I hadn't asked--yet who knew they'd actually offer it!
... and by the way, Ron, thanks for your comment and now I'm enlightened about the abbreviation, TSDKTM.
For the information of other visitors, in case they are puzzled, the letters stand for "The Stupidest Distance Known to Man." And this distance is .... (insert roll of drums here) ... none other than the marathon.
Of course, being a woman, not a man, I could view myself as immune somehow. :)
Wow, I was really out of it...darn night shifts. So it wasn't PDR this weekend that you were talking about with the beer, eh? If that's the case, then I'll stick with marking it down for the total lack of beer at the finish. For $30 at BSR, sure I can crash a local club's tailgate... but in an Elite/RnR race that I paid $65 to enter, there really should be beer.
And back to TSDKTM... given that we did half that arbitrary distance (I'm still peeved because I *was* visualizing 1:45 and came up a bit short), is it half as stupid, or twice as stupid?
Well, as the song goes, "In heaven, there is no beer...." So maybe the Philly Distance Run is heaven? :)
I wish you success in reaching your 1:45 next time. My next half marathon goal is to break two hours, but I don't know when my next half is. It could be as soon as November (the half marathon accompanying the Philly marathon) or, if not then, back to Caesar Rodney for some more fun 'n' games! ... and beer.
I hope we're not talking "twice as stupid" for the half, b/c I need whatever brain power I have. Of course, if I choose the marathon this fall, then I might have to rethink that math. I never did care for fractions.
I do like beer, however, and you can get that at the UNofficial beer stop that some very charitable folks set up in the Philly Marathon. ;)
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