Wednesday, May 07, 2008

Broad Street Run 2008: A Comedy of New Errors

This year’s Broad Street Run, 2008 introduced some new surprises, and I have to say that it was certainly different than any other Broad Street (or any other race, for that matter) I’ve experienced.  Culminating with a first-time runner beating me by several minutes, a late start (I was late, the race started on time), and the Garmin watch not finding a satellite in such a way that I could track my splits, let’s just say things weren’t exactly as I’d hoped.  Coming off a Broad Street PR in 2007, I had high hopes, all of which were dashed in just 1:33:47.

For starters, I picked up my friend Frank at 6:45 AM in Gladwyne, which forced us to go into the city on I-76.  There was race traffic everywhere, and somehow, my plan to meet a bunch of friends on Franklin field at 7:30 AM was rapidly disintegrating.  In desperate need of a porta potty, I coaxed a parking lot “guard” to let me into a closed parking lot to use one of the many vacant porta potties situated at the far corner of the empty lot (this would prove to be a lifesaver later in the morning)...After using the porta potty, I pulled into Lincoln Financial Field to park the car and walk to the subway for the overly-crowded, sardine-can-esque ride up Broad Street to the starting line.

Let’s Ride the Subway

Getting on the Subway for the Broad Street Run is a singularly unique experience.  While the subway is free on this particular morning, there are also non-runners who need to get where they’re going as well.  All told, the subway literally has as many people riding it as can fit.  You are smashed up against others for the entire duration of the 20 minute trek, and I can’t possibly imagine that this approach isn’t in some violation of the maximum allowable capacity...This is one of those moments where you realize you’re probably cheating death, and you (or at least I) talk incessantly to take my mind of the fact that there’s no way we should all be on the subway at the same time…

8:30 Start, and we’re 2 stops away

For the first time in my short-and-uneventful racing career, it occurred to me at 8:25 AM that we were not going to be off the train for the 8:30 start.  I seemed to be the only one concerned about this, but my theory is that anyone on that particular train was probably not really worried about starting on time (the college girls in front of me were asking me when they were going to get their racing chip.  I explained that it came with their race packet.  They giggled and started fishing around for it at 8:27 AM).

At about 8:35 AM, the subway slowed to a stop and the doors opened.  I had no idea what to expect when I reached the surface, but I knew that I had already missed the following opportunities:

• Meeting my friends on the field.  This year I was meeting up with more people than ever before.
• Hearing the Star Spangled Banner, which for me is a defining moment and a reminder of why I love to race
• Getting a chance to focus my energy on what I needed to do for the next 10 miles
• Lining up in the appropriate corral, which is a big factor in allowing me to keep my race pace
• Allowing my Garmin 305 GPS to find a satellite so I could track my splits.  The subway isn’t a great place to grab a satellite signal.

The race began Underground

As the doors opened, it was a little scary, as everyone on the train felt a certain urgency to get off (including me).  I literally started running underground, up the steps, and along the corridor street that leads to the start line.  People were kind of shuffling along, but there was somehow a bunch of people standing on the sidelines, clearly unconcerned with the fact that the race was already underway...My heart rate was up to 145 before I even reached the racing area, and I was in such disarray that I had no idea where I was in relation to those in front of me.

Frank’s last words...

My friend Frank followed me to “the surface” and stated that he had to make a “quick stop, don’t lose me.” I said ok, turned around, and he was gone.  I looked 360 degrees, looked into the street, looked around once again, and just ran out into the street to begin my haphazard event.  I was sorry not to run with Frank, but, as it turned out, he wouldn’t be behind me for very long, a theme that seemed to play out for me over the next 10 miles with a number of other runners as well.

On the road with the Broad Street Gang

At mile 4, Frank caught up to me and tapped me on the shoulder.  I was happy to rejoin my friend, and was glad that we were still on pace.  As we rounded City Hall, I could see that Frank wasn’t satisfied with the pace I was keeping, and I told him we were about a minute behind schedule.  I felt, however, that I was where I wanted to be (a decision I would regret at the end).  I told Frank to put the hammer down and I’d see him at the finish.  He did, and I wouldn’t see him again until I logged at least another 4 miles or so of pavement.

In the end, I came in about 4 minutes slower than last year.  My FIL, who came down to support us, spoke to another friend of mine who he happened upon while leaving Philadelphia.  He mentioned my time to the friend...This particular friend, who is always brutally honest, looked at my FIL and said, “...that’s a HORRIBLE time for him” in reference to my performance.

I believe he was right, and I plan on redeeming myself at another 10 miler as soon as I can find a local one.  I’m going to get my Star Spangled Banner back, dammit, and my PR is going down in 2008.