Kurt is going to love this one. I think. This race report is late, but I've got to get it out of my system before I start to forget things.

On Sunday, September 20, 2009, Brian Gatens and I ran the Philadelphia Distance Run together, sort of. I mean, we warmed up at the same time, we started together, but things pretty much went differently shortly after that. I had been on my feet for 11 hours the previous day, running around at the Lake Mercer Dragon Boat Festival with my Wyeth Wyverns team.

Not a good taper plan. I knew this, because I'd done the exact same thing the previous year. It felt lousy then, too, but hey - no brain, no headache, and I wanted to do both races. It was a fair trade.

Brian and I ran 2.5 miles pre-race to try and get things moving, and my legs didn't feel too bad. Brian said he'd ridden 55 miles of hills the day before, so he was likely just as tired as I was - at least we would both be in this together. We made our way into the corrals, listened to the usual assortment of speeches, and then it was go time.

We were in corral 3 of 15 (though Brian had seeded himself with a 1:15 time, earning him a Corral 1 number...I'd been somewhat more pedestrian at 1:38 - we used my number), which meant the wait to cross the line wouldn't be too bad. We got moving right away, and settled into whatever pace was going to be.

I didn't look at my watch in this mile - I just ran on feel. It felt fast - strong. I figured about a 7:45. *BEEP* Hmm, 8:04. Okay, terrific! So much for THAT idea. It was here that Brian said, "I've got to pee - bad." Luckily there was a line of available port-a-loos to the side of the road; Brian ducked in, and I waited. I contemplated jogging ahead slowly, but I was already off-pace - I figured the 20-30 seconds of reset might give my legs a chance to shake off their deadness.

Brian bolted out of the box, and I pretty much knew within a few strides that I might need to wait longer to have good legs, like to say, Tuesday. Brian was pulling away from me, and there was no sense in trying to keep up. Just like I had during the marathon in November, I told him to go on. He said, "I'm not sure I really can - I don't feel so great..."

I replied with, "C'mon Leeroy. You've GOT to go on."
He smiled and said, "Well, you've got a point there."

BOOM - he was gone, and I settled in to whatever I was going to have.

What I had was pretty much a slow, steady run. I tried to keep the splits right near 8:00, and not drop off. I'd love to go on about all the things I saw and thought of through here, but honestly, I was just really f'ing tired. It hurt. I shut down all non-essential thoughts, and just ran.

3 - 7:52
4 - 8:02
5 - 8:14
6 - 7:59.99 (Hey, it's under 8!)
7 - 8:04
8 - 8:11
9 - 8:12

The thing that bugged me the most was that I wasn't breathing hard - I was aerobically under total control, but my legs were just toast. With 4 miles to go, we exited Falls Bridge and started on the return leg - Kelly Drive. There's a slight downhill ramp off of the bridge, and I said, "Use the downhill and get rolling - build some power here. Try and negative split these last miles - make something happen. Do it!"

In my mind I figured that Brian had gone completely Leeroy, meaning he'd have to hit some wall, somewhere. If I could catch up...hey, it was something to focus on. Always easier to chase than be chased.

I increased my turnover - I lengthened my stride. I cut the tangents. I started moving up. This was good. When the 10-mile mark came into view, it had to be faster - I had to have dropped some time, right? Right?

BEEP. 8:11. One f'ing second.

And that, friends, is when I said, "F*ck it. I'm going home." I had 3 miles to go, and that meant if I kept moving for 25 minutes, I'd be done and eating pancakes.

Dammit.

Brian came all this way, I couldn't hang with him.
I'd run a PR at this race in 2006-2007, and now I was going backwards.
And nothing funny had happened at all - nothing. Wotdahell was I going to write about?

And then I saw the table. Just past mile 11, there it was. A small card table off to one side of the road, filled with cups - Party Size cups. And in each of those cups was something cold, dark, and beautiful. Even if it was only 9:04AM, I didn't care. I crossed 4 lanes of runners, grabbed myself a full Yuengling Black and Tan, and got back to it.

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