Yesterday, I ran the most incredible race of my life: the Philadelphia Marathon. I told only my husband and immediate family that I would be participating, because I've found that my cardinal sin of racing is putting pressure on myself--the more people I tell in advance, the more pressure I tend to feel. Don't get me wrong, I love being supported, but I don't like knowing in the back of my mind that people are tracking me. I'm a people pleaser, and always like to do well by others, but the only reason I'm running is for myself. My goals are my goals; I'll keep them to myself, thank you very much. Yesterday, my goal was to smile the whole time--I met that goal and got a PR by 9 minutes.
There are several reasons that the Philadelphia Marathon was the most incredible race of my life (so far), and the first happened around 6am. On marathon morning, I got up at 4:30am, ate 1.5 Clif bars with a little coffee, and boarded a nearby shuttle from the hotel to the start around 5:30am.
I am a seasoned researcher, and knew that the best port-a-potties to camp out by were near 24th Street/where the shuttle dropped us off. I found a bench, made a couple quick friends, and left my cup of water there as I intended to be right back after checking with security on how far away the corrals were from my current location. (I wanted to back plan so that I would be able to use the bathroom one last time before heading into my corral.) I talked to one security guard who did not know the corral location, but pointed me to another security guard to ask. That security guard also did not know, so he told me to ask yet a third security guard.
The third security guard was by the VIP tents, which were barricaded, and he also could not answer my question. I spotted a woman wearing a race official vest, and I asked him if he could get her for me. She came over, and I asked how far away the corrals were (for the fourth time). She pointed to the other side of the barricaded VIP tents and said, "You mean those? They're right there." I said, "You mean I can walk through these gates to get there? I thought I needed to go around." She dryly replied, "People do things they're not supposed to do all the time." I quickly responded, "Well, I really respect this event, the fact that you're out here on this cold morning, and I want to do whatever I'm supposed to do!" She said, "Why don't you come into this VIP warming tent? Just act like you belong there." I was stunned, and asked, "Are you serious?" "Well, yeah!" She said, opening the gate, "Act cool and go with it." "OK!" I exclaimed, "You are my new best friend. Thank you so much." She grinned. I introduced myself to her, and officially met Jeannine--my Philadelphia Marathon angel--who works for the City of Philadelphia.
I walked into the very first tent I saw, and acted cool. I assumed that those around me were rich folks who paid extra for their marathon experience. After talking to a young woman going for some sub-3 hour pace, her brother/agent, and her mother who had retired from being a professional runner, I started to think I might have stumbled into an elite runner tent. They were incredibly gracious, and somehow went along with my being there. I got to stay warm, get a bottle of water, and even had special port-a-potties (no lines!). When a group of Kenyans walked into the tent and started greasing up their legs, my suspicion that I'd entered the elite tent was confirmed. Oh boy. The funniest incident is when I had a nice exchange with another young woman seated near me. We had some small talk, she told me this was her first marathon, and I expressed my excitement and respect for her, as she seemed to be going for a very ambitious time...to which she replied, "Well, you're in here for a reason!" ....AH! I chuckled to myself, thinking, the only reason I'm in here is because of my friend Jeannine.
After that exciting, yet low key and relaxing, pre-start of the marathon, I got into my corral and was fired up to go. I told myself that if there was a clock at the start, I would not look at it. This way, I wouldn't be doing the math in my head to follow my pace at every mile. Luckily, there was no clock at the start--I knew we started at about 7:05am (the pros started at 7am and I was in the corral behind them) but wasn't exactly sure. My plan was to start at an 8:30 per mile pace for the first two miles, and then not look at my watch. I tried so, so hard to go at what felt like a snail's pace, but my first two miles were a 7:38 (whoops!) and an 8:14. I still felt so slow, but cheated and looked at my watch a little before mile 3 to see what I was doing at that moment, and the watch read 8:10. I thought, ok, this is good! I am going to chill here. I looked over to my left, and saw a sign that said "Trust the process"...I took it as a literal and figurative sign, and carried on!
We winded around city streets for miles 3 to 6, and I got to see James and our little dog Bernie cheering for me at mile 6. Yay! In my mind, I thought of the marathon as three 9-mile laps, so focused on completing lap one for miles 6 through 9. For me, the middle part of the race is usually toughest--the beginning and end are naturally exciting, but I can get a bit bogged down in between. For lap two (miles 9 to 18), I reminded myself about how good I felt, that distance was no longer a big deal for me, and that I'd get to see James again at mile 14. I saw James just after an underpass as I ascended up a hill, and man I love hills.
We began a long out-and-back along the Schuykill River a little after I saw James, and though I love crowds, I was excited for a bit of quiet time. We lucked out with no wind, and I looked forward to soon seeing the leading men and women heading back to the finish line. (I chuckled to myself as I recognized the two men in front as the Kenyans who'd been oiling their legs in the VIP tent.) I was happy to reach mile 18, officially completing my middle lap of the race. I definitely started to feel it in my quads, but how could I not!? A woman around my age who I'd been playing tag with for quite some time asked me, "What are you going for?" And, as I had no filters by this point in the race, said "I have no fucking clue! I'm just smiling and seeing what happens. Let's do this!" We were clearly happy for one another. (She pulled ahead for the time being, but I later passed her and never saw her again.)
A little after mile 18 we entered the Mayanuk neighborhood, which delivered the party as promised! Folks were dressed in costumes, passing out beer (no thanks! but funny!), and cheering their hearts out. I'd been getting comments on my smile here and there, and had gotten shout outs by name (thanks so my customized fanny pack with A-M-Y on the front), but here my smile REALLY started to get noticed. "Go Amy! Still smiling!" "Keep smiling, Amy!" "Strong and beautiful, Amy!" "Love that smile, Amy!" All of those cheers made me smile even more. (Shout out to the incredible supporters throughout the course, and especially to my husband James.)
We turned around a little before 20 and that turnaround was so helpful...we were officially heading back towards the finish! I felt strong, but my quads were starting to really get fatigued, but I smile-grimaced through the pain, and the smile cheers kept on coming. I looked forward to mile 22, because that is a magical mile to me. My longest training run had been 22 miles, and when I finished that run, I thought, I could keep going. I remembered that this, NOW, is my chance to keep going. I got choked up with tears of happiness.
When I reached mile 23, I realized I only had a 5k left. I am always excited for the last 5k of a long race--it sounds so doable. I know I looked like a hot mess, all hunched over and running weird, and kept trying to loosen up and turn my grimace-smile into a regular smile. At mile 25, I thought ahead to seeing James at mile 26 and seriously just almost being done! But in some ways, I never wanted it to end! I also did look at the clock in the 20s, and realized that even with a 10-minute mile pace I would crush my previous PR.
The last mile of the Philadelphia Marathon was unreal. The crowds were insane. I felt like I had tunnel vision to the finish line, surrounded by cheers. I did not see James at mile 26, but love was all around. Some runners started surging towards the finish line, and I fed off of their power. I pulled it together and sped up as best I could at that point. I crossed that finish line feeling invincible and amazed at what I was truly capable of. When you have a positive mindset, there are no limits on what you can accomplish.
Today I am so sore, and it is so worth it. Thank you, Philadelphia, for an unforgettable experience.
There are several reasons that the Philadelphia Marathon was the most incredible race of my life (so far), and the first happened around 6am. On marathon morning, I got up at 4:30am, ate 1.5 Clif bars with a little coffee, and boarded a nearby shuttle from the hotel to the start around 5:30am.
I am a seasoned researcher, and knew that the best port-a-potties to camp out by were near 24th Street/where the shuttle dropped us off. I found a bench, made a couple quick friends, and left my cup of water there as I intended to be right back after checking with security on how far away the corrals were from my current location. (I wanted to back plan so that I would be able to use the bathroom one last time before heading into my corral.) I talked to one security guard who did not know the corral location, but pointed me to another security guard to ask. That security guard also did not know, so he told me to ask yet a third security guard.
The third security guard was by the VIP tents, which were barricaded, and he also could not answer my question. I spotted a woman wearing a race official vest, and I asked him if he could get her for me. She came over, and I asked how far away the corrals were (for the fourth time). She pointed to the other side of the barricaded VIP tents and said, "You mean those? They're right there." I said, "You mean I can walk through these gates to get there? I thought I needed to go around." She dryly replied, "People do things they're not supposed to do all the time." I quickly responded, "Well, I really respect this event, the fact that you're out here on this cold morning, and I want to do whatever I'm supposed to do!" She said, "Why don't you come into this VIP warming tent? Just act like you belong there." I was stunned, and asked, "Are you serious?" "Well, yeah!" She said, opening the gate, "Act cool and go with it." "OK!" I exclaimed, "You are my new best friend. Thank you so much." She grinned. I introduced myself to her, and officially met Jeannine--my Philadelphia Marathon angel--who works for the City of Philadelphia.
I walked into the very first tent I saw, and acted cool. I assumed that those around me were rich folks who paid extra for their marathon experience. After talking to a young woman going for some sub-3 hour pace, her brother/agent, and her mother who had retired from being a professional runner, I started to think I might have stumbled into an elite runner tent. They were incredibly gracious, and somehow went along with my being there. I got to stay warm, get a bottle of water, and even had special port-a-potties (no lines!). When a group of Kenyans walked into the tent and started greasing up their legs, my suspicion that I'd entered the elite tent was confirmed. Oh boy. The funniest incident is when I had a nice exchange with another young woman seated near me. We had some small talk, she told me this was her first marathon, and I expressed my excitement and respect for her, as she seemed to be going for a very ambitious time...to which she replied, "Well, you're in here for a reason!" ....AH! I chuckled to myself, thinking, the only reason I'm in here is because of my friend Jeannine.
After that exciting, yet low key and relaxing, pre-start of the marathon, I got into my corral and was fired up to go. I told myself that if there was a clock at the start, I would not look at it. This way, I wouldn't be doing the math in my head to follow my pace at every mile. Luckily, there was no clock at the start--I knew we started at about 7:05am (the pros started at 7am and I was in the corral behind them) but wasn't exactly sure. My plan was to start at an 8:30 per mile pace for the first two miles, and then not look at my watch. I tried so, so hard to go at what felt like a snail's pace, but my first two miles were a 7:38 (whoops!) and an 8:14. I still felt so slow, but cheated and looked at my watch a little before mile 3 to see what I was doing at that moment, and the watch read 8:10. I thought, ok, this is good! I am going to chill here. I looked over to my left, and saw a sign that said "Trust the process"...I took it as a literal and figurative sign, and carried on!
We winded around city streets for miles 3 to 6, and I got to see James and our little dog Bernie cheering for me at mile 6. Yay! In my mind, I thought of the marathon as three 9-mile laps, so focused on completing lap one for miles 6 through 9. For me, the middle part of the race is usually toughest--the beginning and end are naturally exciting, but I can get a bit bogged down in between. For lap two (miles 9 to 18), I reminded myself about how good I felt, that distance was no longer a big deal for me, and that I'd get to see James again at mile 14. I saw James just after an underpass as I ascended up a hill, and man I love hills.
 |
| Running up a hill around mile 14, continuing to nail my goal of smiling the whole time. |
We began a long out-and-back along the Schuykill River a little after I saw James, and though I love crowds, I was excited for a bit of quiet time. We lucked out with no wind, and I looked forward to soon seeing the leading men and women heading back to the finish line. (I chuckled to myself as I recognized the two men in front as the Kenyans who'd been oiling their legs in the VIP tent.) I was happy to reach mile 18, officially completing my middle lap of the race. I definitely started to feel it in my quads, but how could I not!? A woman around my age who I'd been playing tag with for quite some time asked me, "What are you going for?" And, as I had no filters by this point in the race, said "I have no fucking clue! I'm just smiling and seeing what happens. Let's do this!" We were clearly happy for one another. (She pulled ahead for the time being, but I later passed her and never saw her again.)
A little after mile 18 we entered the Mayanuk neighborhood, which delivered the party as promised! Folks were dressed in costumes, passing out beer (no thanks! but funny!), and cheering their hearts out. I'd been getting comments on my smile here and there, and had gotten shout outs by name (thanks so my customized fanny pack with A-M-Y on the front), but here my smile REALLY started to get noticed. "Go Amy! Still smiling!" "Keep smiling, Amy!" "Strong and beautiful, Amy!" "Love that smile, Amy!" All of those cheers made me smile even more. (Shout out to the incredible supporters throughout the course, and especially to my husband James.)
We turned around a little before 20 and that turnaround was so helpful...we were officially heading back towards the finish! I felt strong, but my quads were starting to really get fatigued, but I smile-grimaced through the pain, and the smile cheers kept on coming. I looked forward to mile 22, because that is a magical mile to me. My longest training run had been 22 miles, and when I finished that run, I thought, I could keep going. I remembered that this, NOW, is my chance to keep going. I got choked up with tears of happiness.
When I reached mile 23, I realized I only had a 5k left. I am always excited for the last 5k of a long race--it sounds so doable. I know I looked like a hot mess, all hunched over and running weird, and kept trying to loosen up and turn my grimace-smile into a regular smile. At mile 25, I thought ahead to seeing James at mile 26 and seriously just almost being done! But in some ways, I never wanted it to end! I also did look at the clock in the 20s, and realized that even with a 10-minute mile pace I would crush my previous PR.
The last mile of the Philadelphia Marathon was unreal. The crowds were insane. I felt like I had tunnel vision to the finish line, surrounded by cheers. I did not see James at mile 26, but love was all around. Some runners started surging towards the finish line, and I fed off of their power. I pulled it together and sped up as best I could at that point. I crossed that finish line feeling invincible and amazed at what I was truly capable of. When you have a positive mindset, there are no limits on what you can accomplish.
 |
| On cloud nine after crushing it at the Philadelphia Marathon with a 9-minute PR of 3:34:28. |
Today I am so sore, and it is so worth it. Thank you, Philadelphia, for an unforgettable experience.
The Run Down
- Type: Race Course
- Distance: Marathon (26.2 Miles)
- Location: Philadelphia, PA
- Terrain: Flat, with rolling hills
- Hydration/nutrition: Plentiful; water and gatorade at every stop with gels offered at select stops
- Bathrooms: Offered at every fluids station
- Other conditions to consider: If you don't like running in the cold, you may want to consider a fall marathon earlier in the season. (I happen to love the cold, though, so this is a bonus to me!)
- Recommended? HIGHLY! I had a uniquely awesome experience, but that aside, the course and crowds are fabulous.
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