A long time ago, after running the Lake Placid Marathon, a good friend challenged me with a question, "Have you every laid it all on the line? Run to the point where you have nothing left?"
I answered, "Yeah... I think so."
"Really?!" Mark challenged further.
"I don't know... maybe not. I don't know."
Mark had challenged me after seeing me run past him and our good friend, Kenny, at the thirteen mile mark at Lake Placid and it appeared to them as though I "...was not even sweating".
This challenge stuck with me for some time and it was not until subsequent races (MCM and Chicago Marathons) that I really felt that I had met it. I found it to be an amazing feeling. Mentally and physically you are totally depleted. You are truly running on the edge of succeeding and failing. With every race I run, I can only measure my performance against Mark's Lake Placid challenge.
It has been almost eleven months since the Chicago Marathon and I have been squeezing runs in when I could. My focus has swung from marathons back to family. I have been very hesitant to commit to anything over a 15k. Most of my runs occur during my lunch breaks at work where I will run anywhere from four to seven miles hopefully three days a week. I haven't been as consistant as I would like but I have hit the road hard when I could. Races have been few and far between but when it comes to the Distance Run in Philly - I can't say no.
The Philadelphia Distance Run is a half marathon race (13.1 miles) that I consider to be one of the great races in the area. The night before the race, I re-discovered a feeling that I haven't had in a while... nervous excitement. I was a little worried about the distance and how much training I had been able to do. I found myself checking and double-checking that I have everything that I will for race day. But my outlook was the same as any race that I do, "Have a great time and you will have a great time. Just enjoy it."
Race day was incredilble. Fall-like weather promised that records were here to be broken. I stood in Corral 3 and ripped open a pre-race gel packet promptly gagged/dry heaved three times and then deciding that maybe gels were not a good idea today. With that decision, the gun went off and so did me and 15,000 of my best friends.
I won't break down the entire race mile by mile but I will pass on two things that I kept telling myself.
1. "Relax and go faster." Anytime I would steal and peek at my watch and see that I had began to slow I would mentally repeat this and my body would answer the call. I don't know why but lately this has worked for me.
2. "Don't worry about he/her. Just run your race, Mikey." this is my buddy Kenny in my head. I think Kenny is one of the few people in the world that I would let call me "Mikey". Basically, what Kenny is saying is stay within your limits and not to be tempted to race people that are passing you. Run consist and at your pace and you will catch them at the end. Kenny has run for years and when he gives me advice I always listen.
At mile ten, I looked at my watch and realized that I could PR (get a Personal Record). I just needed to hold on to the pace. I could feel fatigue in my legs but I was not going to slow and I started counting down the miles.
"Relax and go faster. Relax and go faster."
Ten to eleven was no problem. Legs were growing heavier and I could feel my hips start to tighten up... a guy that had to have been 6'5" pasess me... he was hitting the ground so hard that I feel like a little cartoon mouse running in air everytime his foot would hit the ground. So some reason, this pissed me off.
"Don't worry about him. Run your race, Mikey."
Eleven to twelve. The fight starts and I feel my body try to slow down...
"Relax and run faster... don't throw this PR away."
Last mile and in the corner of my eye I see "Superman" (some guy wearing a Superman emblem on his shirt) pull up and pass me. DAMMIT! Superman is passing me?! I past this guy at ten! Damn! I wanted to tell my kids that I beat Superman today! That would have been so cool! Kids don't look at you with that awed look when you tell then you beat Chuck --- Male 25 - 30 from Chesterbrook, PA. Damn...
"Don't worry about him. Run your race, Mikey."
Last turn and I see the Finish Line a hundred yards in front of me. I try to open up and give everything that I have left. I feel my legs pick up the pace slightly.
I cross the Finish Line and I see Superman and smile. He smiles back and I walk away.
The gas tank is empty. Mentally and physically - I have nothing. Upon arriving at home my wife takes one look at me and states, "Are you OK?! You look like you had the the shit beat out of you."
I smile and feel the pain growing in my legs. Exhaustion has settled in and I look at her and say, "I feel great."
Challenge met again, Mark. Thanks for the push.
