Executive Summary: 1:16:39 - An unexpected PR on a warm Spring day!

Ahhh, yes...the BSR.  10 miles, from beautiful North Philadelphia (ahem) downhill for most of the way to the finish at FDR park in South Philly.  In 1996, I ran a 1:22.  Last year with fellow dead Mark Markley pushing the tempo, we clocked a 1:17.  This year, I was a solo act as Mark was off being a grown up in Chicago...don't you hate when work interferes with training?

At Broad Street, the race directors really have their act together.  You park at the CoreStates Center (home of the recently ousted Flyers- oops!) about a 1/2 mile from the finish, and with your race number you get a free train ride on SEPTA up to the start 10 miles North.  I dashed from the car with number and GU's pinned in place, and hefty bag in hand as I dashed through the heavy rains that had started at about 5am.  Despite the bad weather, my luck was as good as it could be...I got on the 7:05am train just as it arrived, which meant I would get to sit for the 40 minute ride (the seats go way fast with 8500 runners). Excellent!  HR was 55-60 on the train ride...not too bad considering the pre-race jitters I always get.

Arrived at the start at 7:50am, so I had plenty of time to warm up before the 8:30 start.  Came out of the train station to clear blue skies...a real shock after leaving the finish in a driving rain!  Took a gamble and ditched the bag...trotted around a bit and headed for the line.

The Start:

I really wasn't sure what to expect from my legs.  I haven't run anywhere near as much as I should this year (knee problems brought about by the purchase of poorly fitting  orthotics...whoops), and I had ridden 30 miles with fellow Dead Ben Spurgeon on Saturday (even with the rain, the man rode!)...so I surmised that a realistic goal was a 1:20. I wore my HR just to keep things honest...and to see what sort of numbers equated to what speed.

Mile 1- 8:04, too much traffic, 23 seconds to the line.  HR at 151, breathing and tempo are easy.

Mile 2- 7:15...Dats' better bro'!  HR at 153, legs starting to settle in.  The sun is actually beating down a lot harder than a lot of people thought it would, and the sheer volume of extra T-shirts and other disposables flying through the air makes it looks like an 8,500 person striptease from the field.

Mile 3- 7:27...one of the few uphills on this course has me feeling a little slower, but OK.  Mark had me turn over a 7:04 here last year...so thoughts of a PR were set on the back burner. (HR at 161 during the climb)

Mile 4:- 7:46, HR at 162 now.  The sun is up above the buildings, and the choice of a black coolmax top is now haunting me as the silliest thing I could have done.  I'm on the left side of the road looking for shade...and it strikes me how out of sorts it is to be as hot as I am when I know darn well it's only about 75 degrees out.  This is what I get for the endless string of 50-60 degree days in the Northeast this spring!

How Not to Eat a GU

Mile 5: 7:50, GU time!  HR at 160, halfway home in 38:23.  Not bad...but there's no way I can keep this tempo up until the end.  I'll just run it until I lose it...good training, either way.  I reach down for the trust GU pinned to my right hip, and as smooth as always, tear it away from the pin: Problem...the pin didn't read the memo on procedures.  Pin pops open, and GU launches pin about 20 feet into the air (with my shorts making this really cool audible 'twang' on launch).  As shorts 'twang', race number dangles by one pin.  #(*@$^!  I walk, breathe...repair number.  Shoot GU.  Drink water...okay, all systems go again...just another 5 miler.  Clear head... get back in rhythm.

Mile 6:- 7:55, HR 165.  Got to relax...can't let the little things get to you.  Overcome.  Hey...isn't that Ed Rendell over there (Mayor of Philadelphia)?  I shout "ED-DIE!!!", which elicits a big grin and a high-five from Mr. Mayor!  Coolness...the fun factor has been restored, and the high-five serves as the energy boost I needed.

Mile 7:- 7:45, HR 167...back on tempo...only a 5K to go.  I can get there.  1:20 is safe...1:17 is a stretch, but not by much.  It's really hot now...they even have hydrants open!  I've never seen that here...I know it's not just me.

Mile 8:- 7:46...HR 169...2 to go.  1:01:50. What do I need to do for a 1:17? Try to do the math...can't think...brain answers "The Battle of Hastings?".  Memo to myself: ignore brain on race days.  Heart says "Pick it up!!" Nothing to lose now!

The Finish

Mile 9:- 7:46 (again!), HR 179.  1 to go...into the park.  It's a long finishing loop...but it's flat.  I'm trying to turn over faster...picking off people one after the other...c'mon legs...no big blowup yet...hang on for one more mile...

Mile 10:- I'm blind...I'm deaf.  All I can hear is my own breathing, and my own heart in my ears.  I know I'm running fast (for me), but how fast?  Will I get the 1:17?  It hurts...my lips are numb from breathing so hard, but I know the finish is coming.  Around the corner, over the little footbridge...there's the banner!  Glance at the HR...189!  Yipes!  Thought my max was 185 at last check...so much for that idea.  The clock is at 1:16:54...and ticking.  I just hurl myself as hard as I can go...and careen under the line at 1:17:00 on the official time.   Bummer...subconsciously, I stop my watch.  Oh yeah...I lost 23 seconds at the start!  I check my time: 1:16:37. Hoo-ah!  Last mile is a 7:01. Argh!  Just missed hitting the 6's for only the second time in my life.  So it goes...how can I be bummed?  I grin the grin that only a PR can produce...and its especially sweet since I gave myself no shot at the days beginning.

On the way home, I remember a deal a made with Lynda...pancakes for breakfast if I run a PR!  Hoo-boy, I can taste the syrup already.  Ahh, yes.  Almost as good as winning an ice-cream bet. :)