Marathon Sunday

It happened...  The 2010 Philadelphia Marathon.  The day I've awaited since last November.

The weekend started with the Runners' Expo Saturday at the Convention Center.  It was pretty standard.  Pick-up the race packet... Peruse the exhibits finding nothing of real interest... and finally heading out, knowing all the wonder the next morning will bestow.

The night before the marathon was a bit of a headache.  There was a bit of confusion with the friend with whom I was staying, so I wandered around the city for about three hours waiting for him to get back to his apartment.  While I was waiting, I went to a pasta dinner and made plans to meet up with an old friend later in the evening.  Anyway, after all was said and done I got to my friend's apartment around 11 o'clock, said a quick 'hello,' and went straight to bed.

Believe the hype.

I didn't sleep too well (I rarely do before races), but I awoke at 5:45 Sunday morning.  I showered, ate two pieces of bread and some peanut butter, and was out the door into the still dark, chilly November morning.  Despite the early hour the city was abuzz.  There were runners everywhere and quickly my grogginess turned into excitement and anticipation.  While I waited for the starting gun to sound the PA system played the theme song from Rocky and other inspirational music.  I have to admit I was getting a little emotional and tearing up a bit.  For the last four month I've risen at 6am everyday to run and devoted most of my Saturdays to long runs.  This day was to be the culmination of all my hard work.

The masses lined up before the race.

When the gun went off, I knew this was what I was meant to do at this point in time.  There was nothing more important, nothing that I would rather be doing.  The first stages of the race wound around center city then down to the river.  Then we headed up to the zoo and through University city past Drexel and UPenn.  Then we headed back to the Art Museum where the half-marathoner split off and finished their race.  For the marathoners it was only the beginning.  The most mentally trying part of the race was yet to come.  We swung around the Art Museum and ran straight up to Manyunk and back.  It only takes one sentence to type but running 6.5 miles straight out and 6.5 miles straight back is mentally tough.  Everything you pass on the way out, you know you will pass again on the way back.  Any downhill will turn into an uphill and vice-versa.

Around mile 20 I began to have a strange thought.  I actually began to question why I was submitting myself to such pain.  I really questioned my sanity.  Then around mile 22 my right hamstring started to cramp.  This is around the same point it cramped last year.  This year, however I realized the signs early and stopped to stretch it out before it was too late.  Miles 23, 24, 25 passed with nothing but pain.  But within the last mile, I tried (feebly) to step the pace up a little bit and finish strong.  In shorter races I've been able to sprint across the finish line, but there was no chance this time around.  As soon as the finish line came into view my calf and my hamstring of my right leg began to cramp.  I wasn't going to stop this close to the finish so I just kept running, but with a definite limp.

Limping towards the finish line.

The support staff.

I crossed the finish line with my hands in the air 3:40:34 after beginning my journey.  I couldn't have asked for better results.  My original training goal had been to break the four hour mark.  Then my amended time to beat was 3:45.  I ran it in 3 hours and 40 minutes.  Every cold rainy morning that I drug myself out of my nice warm bed had paid off.  It was the greatest feeling.  It is a feeling that no one can give you.  To go out and work for something so hard and then to achieve your goal is the greatest reward of all.