But It Wasn't Marked Fra-gee-lay

There are times that life imitates art. And, last week, was one of those times for me.

Remember the movie A Christmas Story? In the movie, the father unexpectedly receives 'a major award' that was delivered to him. He's not sure why but, nonetheless, he was very excited on its arrival. Well, this past Tuesday, I, too, was delivered a 'major award.'

It was a cold and dreary day (suddenly, I'm writing like Snoopy). The snow and ice were coming down all day as I worked from home. I had snowplowed my driveway and parts of my yard for the dogs to go out. Very depressing type of day.

In the afternoon, as the ice began to turn to rain, I went out to get the mail. In my mailbox was an large, thick envelope from a company called Competitor Group in San Diego, California sent to a Brian Steindl. Brian Steindl? That's strange.

Then I started thinking back to a race I ran last year where my name was mixed up and I was signed up as Brian Steindl. It was explained to me, that the person who was doing the registrations, combined my last name with the person before me's first name. Thus, Brian Steindl was born. But, what race was that? And why is there an envelope addressed to him (me)?

I opened up the package and there it was. A team award for finishing in third place in the Corporate Masters Men division of the Philadelphia Distance Run. I was giddy. I don't win awards for running. Oh, sure. When I was kid, I would win awards for 50 yard dashes. But, not now. Not for distance runs. And, as I pull the award out and revealed more and more of it, the thought flashed through my mind: They don't have the name Brian Steindl on the award, do they?

Thankfully, no.

I remember looking up the team standings when they were first posted but didn't think much of it afterwards. So, I went back and looked it up again.

Yes, indeed. I was part of the third place team. Sort of. There are five people on your team. They count the first three finishers' times for the team. I was fourth. (Hey, I missed it by a minute!!!! What's the big deal?.) And, there were four teams that competed in the division. So, we were third out of four.

Now, corporate teams are interesting. Because, you never meet your teammates. (I still don't know them.) And, for the most part, you don't know who is on your team when you are running. In past years for my company, I felt like the 'chubby kid on the bench' that had to be picked and put somewhere on the field. So, I would wind up on teams that the captains didn't know what to do with. Not elite but 'thanks for coming out and enjoy your run' teams.

But, there it is. A piece of hardware from a race. And, not just a finisher's medal. A plaque. I've never received a plaque before. I won a gift card for winning a Clydesdale master division once. But, I spent that. A plaque. I'm very proud of receiving my major award in the mail even if it was 5 months after the event and my time didn't count in the standings and my name was wrong in the registration. But, for those that come into my office and see my plaque, they will never know any of that. They'll see my major award.

Philadelphia Distance Run 2008 Report

My goal was to finish under 2 hours. I wanted to prove to myself that last year's race was no fluke. Because I did it once doesn't mean I could do it again. My strategy? Run the first 10 miles between 1:25-1:27. I would feel pretty confident that, whatever happens the next 3 miles, I could pull myself in doing 10 minute miles.

The forecast for the day was warm temps. But, that was more in the afternoon. During the race, it was predicted to be in the 60s. When I was driving down, the thermometer in my car was reading in the upper 40s (F) for an outside temperature. I knew I would regret it but I abandoned my singlet for a short-sleeve shirt. I also abandoned wearing a baseball cap I got from the Falmouth Road Race. It's a great cap with a sweatband built inside but, when I went to put it on, it was giving me a headache.

When I got to the Art Museum, I had planned to meet up with people who I knew. But, with 35 minutes to race time, I decided I really needed to get in the potty line as they were starting to get longer. As it turned out, good decision on my part as I had 5 minutes to spare before the start of the race. As I stood in my corral, waiting for the start, I felt as comfortable as I ever have been at a start of a race like this.

The first mile of the race takes you down the Benjamin Franklin Parkway from the Art Museum into Center City Philadelphia (the picture directly below is a shot of BFP but looking at the Art Museum. The one below that is from Corral 7 at the start of the race).

As I ran the first mile, I didn't feel well. I still had a headache, a bit of a sore throat, my legs were heavy, and I was thirsty. I was really surprised in being thirsty as I'm usually never thirsty during a race. I might be dehydrated in a race but I usually only see signs from other means (cramping, etc.) But, I keep moving.

The next 4 miles is through the urban jungle that is Center City. When you head east on Market Street, you are heading right into a rising sun that fills the street with little shade to hide in. It's at this point that I start to regret not wearing the singlet. You make a right off Market Street and you go past truly one of the treasures of this course, and that is, Independence Hall. (see picture below) People in this area take it for granted. But, I love being in this area of the city and what it represents to America.

Usually at the three mile mark, I can tell how my day is going to be. Last year, I settled in a comfortable pace. This year was different. I was struggling. I was still fighting my headache and my rhythm was off. I don't take fluids at the first water stop (my feeling is it will just make me want to go to the bathroom) but make sure I drink the Cytomax at the next stop. Still, I'm thirsty. But, I keep moving.

The route takes you up BFP again towards the Art Museum. From there, you make a left and head down Martin Luther King Drive. Mile 5 is mismarked as suddenly I'm doing 6 minute miles! (I have to say I wasn't sure at the time but talked to others after the race to confirm this). At mile 7, I'm at the 1 hour mark. My head is pounding even more. I know start telling myself, which becomes my mantra, 'As long as I keep my legs moving, good things will happen.' I think about how TV announcers will say that about running backs playing American football. As long as they keep their legs moving, they will be able to make the plays. So, I keep moving.

Between miles 8 and 9, you go across the Falls Bridge in the East Falls section of the city. From there you make a right down Kelly Drive heading back again to the Art Museum. There is a slight hill to get to the bridge and a slight hill down from the bridge. After the slight hill from the bridge is the mile 9 marker. Every year, I don't know why, my legs will cramp up here. This year being no exception. I slow down to gather myself and try to let the cramps subside. I've come to the conclusion that the headache and sore throat won't be going away anytime soon so I have to deal with it. But, something else happens. At this point of the race, I dread the last 4 miles. This year, I don't think about it. I'm taking it one step at a time. I keep on moving.

I hit the mile 10 marker at a little over 1:27. I downshift. There is no reason to push myself any harder than I have to now. If I do, there is a chance I won't reach my goal of a sub-2 hour time. I just keep moving.

Mile 12 is the last opportunity for water. It's also the toughest part of the course. Where Boathouse Row starts coming into the city is where the sun is at its strongest and the slight but longish hill brings you to the finish. I get past Boathouse Row but the hill continues. The sun is beating down on me. Now, I'm feeling faint. I start to walk but I know I have about a half mile to go to the end. Still, I keep moving.

I get to the crest. Someone in the crowd spots my shirt with my company name and yells encouragement to me. 50 yards from that, someone else from the crowd does the same. I'm energized at mile 13 with only .1 mile to go. I start to sprint to the end.

The last tenth of a mile is a U-turn that heads up towards the Art Museum steps (made famous in the Rockey movies. See the picture at the far bottom.) I notice that the gun time is ticking towards the 2 hour mark. I know its not the chip time but I think about the Doylestown race and want to give everything I have at the end. I keep moving but, this time, as fast as I could. I cross the finish line and look down at my watch. I finished at 1:56:33, a new PR by 17 seconds.

I'm not elated. I'm not anything. Except I am proud of myself. Not because of the PR. But, I achieved my goal of a sub-2 hour half. When I wasn't feeling so good. I did my best when I wasn't feeling my best. I think about my last blog entry that discussed the mind games you play in a race. And, how I didn't give up when I had every reason to do so. I think about a family member who is going through cancer treatments and not giving up. I'm glad I PRed. But, I'm glad more that I kept on moving.

(Picture directly below is the crowd of runners after the finish of the race)

(Notes: After the race, I did complete an additional 3 miles to finish up my scheduled 16 miler for my marathon training. It wasn't pretty and it was about a hour later but I did it. As far as not feeling well during the race, I think my allergies kicked in. I'm not sure why I was so thirsty, as I didn't take any medication for my allergies which can make me thirsty. The only thing I could think of was I ordered pasta from Outback takeout the night before butwound up with some rice dish. It was too late at night to take it back so I ate it figuring it was still carbs. Maybe too much salt in the dish? )