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Philadelphia Marathon - Redemption Run
Nov. 23rd, 2023 07:32 amOn Sunday, November 19th, I took part in my 6th marathon, the Philadelphia Marathon, which celebrated its 30th year. This was the third and final race for this year, the year I turned 50, and for which I had big plans for both celebrating half a century and doing battle with the internal agism and sexism that seemed to grow louder as I moved from my 40s to my 50s. I had decided to set some big goals to focus on as a way to celebrate where I am in life, the experience I have had running, and the fitness I have achieved or maintained. This included running my first ever Ultra marathon (The Dirty German 50 miler), aiming to run a half marathon personal best in Iceland, and then aiming for a new personal best and Boston Qualityfing time at the Philadelphia marathon.
Two of these did not go to plan. As I wrote in May, I did not finish the 50 miler and withdrew shortly before the halfway point because I was really struggling in the rain and mud. Then, in August, two days before I was scheduled to fly to Reykjavik for a conference and the half marathon, my husband tested positive for COVID and could not get out of bed for a few days. I did not feel good leaving him (what if something happened) but I also realized I was probably about to test positive myself. Then there was the fact that I was sharing a room with two other friends, one of whom I had infected with COVID at the last conference where we had been roommates in 2022. All of these considerations led me to make the very difficult decision to withdraw from the conference and the half marathon.
That was a very hard week. As it turned out, I never tested positive. My husband fortunately bounced back quickly. And I spent a week with a terrible case of FOMO and regret for my over-cautious decision. To salvage the week, I signed up for a half marathon in Washington, DC to test my fitness and hopefully run a decent time anyway. However, unlike Iceland, which sees temperatures in the 40s and 50s (F) in August, morning temps were in the 70s and 80s (with high humidity) in DC. Heat slows you down because your heart has to work harder to cool the body. Humidity makes it next to impossible to cool off because instead of evaporating, your sweat simply sits on your skin. In the end, I hit the wall and really slowed down in the second half resulting in the slowest half marathon I have run in years (1:53:33). Although I finished first in my age group (out of 4) and was 8th woman overall, I felt discouraged. I realize the heat probably had a lot to do with this, but this was the second weather-related setback. My 50th year was not turning out the way I had hoped.
I was worried the marathon would be the same (the Twin Cities marathon in Minnesota was cancelled in October due to a heat warning) or that perhaps my sub-4 from last year at the Wineglass marathon would stand as the pinnacle of my running achievement because perimenopause and the ensuing muscle loss and hormone loss meant I could no longer perform at the level I had in my 40s. I tried to be philosophical about the possibility that this was a year for lessons and not necessarily personal records. Often times, the greatest breakthroughs in running come after the hardest races that teach us something about ourselves and what we need to do differently. Maybe 50 was one of those years and I would see breakthroughs at 51 and 52 based on lessons learned this year. I certainly learned that I am less tolerant to the heat than I was just a few years before. I learned that I cannot run for long in muddy conditions and that it's best for me to keep to roads or trail races that are not muddy. I also learned that my body could sustain a running regimen of 5 days a week primarily without injury if I avoided doing things like hill sprints.
Despite carrying all these worries, I went into the Philadelphia marathon uninjured (last year, I ran with Achilles tendonitis), having completed all my training in good form and with good pacing practice, and with the determination to finish this race even if it did not turn out as I had hoped. It would be my 6th marathon, my first marathon in my 50s and a week out, it became clear the weather was going to be absolutely perfect (starting low 40s, rising to low 50s with sun but no wind).
With about 13,000 runners, this was the biggest marathon I had ever run, so I got to the starting area early (5:30 for a 7:00 start) to warm up and use the toilets. This worked out well and I was able to use the toilet twice, warm up a little and check in my gear before heading to my starting group area. My goal time was sub 3:55 - which is the Boston Qualifying time for women aged 50-54. This put me in the green starting group for runners aiming to run between 3:40 and 3:55. Unfortunately, once I was in the starting area, I realized that shivering in the cold had made me need to pee again, but lines for the port-o-potties were out of control. I knew there would be port-o-potties on the course and had taken pee stops in past marathons without it damaging my time, so I made the decision to hold it until I saw a chance on the course.
My plan had been to start conservatively and to run the second half of the marathon faster than the first, but the adrenaline and crowds and poor visibility of the mile markers among all the spectators meant I went out faster than planned, but not too much faster. I felt great and kept an eye on my heart rate to make sure I was not going too fast - not at all. I kept that slightly faster pace telling myself I would slow down when we hit the hills in the first half of the course. I also mainly forgot about my need to pee - I was feeling so good and overjoyed.
This ended up being a good thing because in urban marathons with huge crowds, there aren't a lot of places for port-o-potties. I saw a handful around 3 miles but decided I would wait until later. Later ended up being mile 10. There was a slight line, but I decided this was the time. It also gave me a chance to deal with my Spotify, which had been playing music not on my playlist - I don't understand why it does this. My playlist for running is specific to what I like and the last thing I need is random stuff during my marathon. In all, I probably lost about a minute to a minute and a half, but it was worth it. I felt better and lighter and ran some of my fastest miles right after. My playlist was back on track and I did not have to think about a toilet for the remainder of the race.
I passed the half-way point/half-marathon marker in 1:56:44 which was just 3:10 slower than my time for the half marathon in August. This was a little faster than I had intended to run the first half, but I was still feeling good. Based on what I had heard about the race layout, the hills were in the first half, but what I found was that there were gradual rolling hills in the second half. These became apparent in the out and back portion of the course where the race takes you to a turn-around point in Manayunk around 20 miles (32km). On one side of the road are runners heading to Manayunk and on the other side are the faster runners in the final 6 mile stretch the finish line. This meant whatever you ran down in one direction would be uphill in the other.
By the time I hit the turn-around, I could feel myself tiring. I was also not quite sure where I was in the race or what my true pace was. As I passed distance markers, I would check in with my watch to see what it said. For instance, at the 10km marker, my watch said I had run 10.2km and by the 35km marker, my watch said I had run 35.7km. This drift is normal and is due to some degree of side to side running (to get water, go to the toilet) and not running the shortest route around corners (which is hard to do in a big race with lots of people also turning the same corner with you). However, what this meant was that I wasn't sure what my official pace was.
I began to wonder if I was going to pay the price for starting faster than intended, but I made the decision to dig deep and to hold on. I was not cramping, I was not injured, and I realized I was definitely going to run a new personal best, even if I did not make it under 3:55.
The lovely thing is that the Philadelphia marathon ends in front of the museum steps. it's a beautiful epic finish with great crowd support, but it is on a slight uphill around a corner. When the finish eventually came into view, I kept my legs pumping. I did not have the energy for a full sprint, but I finished strong and crossed the finish line in 3:54:05.
I did it. A 5 minute PR and a Boston Qualifying time (BQ) at 50!
Two of these did not go to plan. As I wrote in May, I did not finish the 50 miler and withdrew shortly before the halfway point because I was really struggling in the rain and mud. Then, in August, two days before I was scheduled to fly to Reykjavik for a conference and the half marathon, my husband tested positive for COVID and could not get out of bed for a few days. I did not feel good leaving him (what if something happened) but I also realized I was probably about to test positive myself. Then there was the fact that I was sharing a room with two other friends, one of whom I had infected with COVID at the last conference where we had been roommates in 2022. All of these considerations led me to make the very difficult decision to withdraw from the conference and the half marathon.
That was a very hard week. As it turned out, I never tested positive. My husband fortunately bounced back quickly. And I spent a week with a terrible case of FOMO and regret for my over-cautious decision. To salvage the week, I signed up for a half marathon in Washington, DC to test my fitness and hopefully run a decent time anyway. However, unlike Iceland, which sees temperatures in the 40s and 50s (F) in August, morning temps were in the 70s and 80s (with high humidity) in DC. Heat slows you down because your heart has to work harder to cool the body. Humidity makes it next to impossible to cool off because instead of evaporating, your sweat simply sits on your skin. In the end, I hit the wall and really slowed down in the second half resulting in the slowest half marathon I have run in years (1:53:33). Although I finished first in my age group (out of 4) and was 8th woman overall, I felt discouraged. I realize the heat probably had a lot to do with this, but this was the second weather-related setback. My 50th year was not turning out the way I had hoped.
I was worried the marathon would be the same (the Twin Cities marathon in Minnesota was cancelled in October due to a heat warning) or that perhaps my sub-4 from last year at the Wineglass marathon would stand as the pinnacle of my running achievement because perimenopause and the ensuing muscle loss and hormone loss meant I could no longer perform at the level I had in my 40s. I tried to be philosophical about the possibility that this was a year for lessons and not necessarily personal records. Often times, the greatest breakthroughs in running come after the hardest races that teach us something about ourselves and what we need to do differently. Maybe 50 was one of those years and I would see breakthroughs at 51 and 52 based on lessons learned this year. I certainly learned that I am less tolerant to the heat than I was just a few years before. I learned that I cannot run for long in muddy conditions and that it's best for me to keep to roads or trail races that are not muddy. I also learned that my body could sustain a running regimen of 5 days a week primarily without injury if I avoided doing things like hill sprints.
Despite carrying all these worries, I went into the Philadelphia marathon uninjured (last year, I ran with Achilles tendonitis), having completed all my training in good form and with good pacing practice, and with the determination to finish this race even if it did not turn out as I had hoped. It would be my 6th marathon, my first marathon in my 50s and a week out, it became clear the weather was going to be absolutely perfect (starting low 40s, rising to low 50s with sun but no wind).
With about 13,000 runners, this was the biggest marathon I had ever run, so I got to the starting area early (5:30 for a 7:00 start) to warm up and use the toilets. This worked out well and I was able to use the toilet twice, warm up a little and check in my gear before heading to my starting group area. My goal time was sub 3:55 - which is the Boston Qualifying time for women aged 50-54. This put me in the green starting group for runners aiming to run between 3:40 and 3:55. Unfortunately, once I was in the starting area, I realized that shivering in the cold had made me need to pee again, but lines for the port-o-potties were out of control. I knew there would be port-o-potties on the course and had taken pee stops in past marathons without it damaging my time, so I made the decision to hold it until I saw a chance on the course.
My plan had been to start conservatively and to run the second half of the marathon faster than the first, but the adrenaline and crowds and poor visibility of the mile markers among all the spectators meant I went out faster than planned, but not too much faster. I felt great and kept an eye on my heart rate to make sure I was not going too fast - not at all. I kept that slightly faster pace telling myself I would slow down when we hit the hills in the first half of the course. I also mainly forgot about my need to pee - I was feeling so good and overjoyed.
This ended up being a good thing because in urban marathons with huge crowds, there aren't a lot of places for port-o-potties. I saw a handful around 3 miles but decided I would wait until later. Later ended up being mile 10. There was a slight line, but I decided this was the time. It also gave me a chance to deal with my Spotify, which had been playing music not on my playlist - I don't understand why it does this. My playlist for running is specific to what I like and the last thing I need is random stuff during my marathon. In all, I probably lost about a minute to a minute and a half, but it was worth it. I felt better and lighter and ran some of my fastest miles right after. My playlist was back on track and I did not have to think about a toilet for the remainder of the race.
I passed the half-way point/half-marathon marker in 1:56:44 which was just 3:10 slower than my time for the half marathon in August. This was a little faster than I had intended to run the first half, but I was still feeling good. Based on what I had heard about the race layout, the hills were in the first half, but what I found was that there were gradual rolling hills in the second half. These became apparent in the out and back portion of the course where the race takes you to a turn-around point in Manayunk around 20 miles (32km). On one side of the road are runners heading to Manayunk and on the other side are the faster runners in the final 6 mile stretch the finish line. This meant whatever you ran down in one direction would be uphill in the other.
By the time I hit the turn-around, I could feel myself tiring. I was also not quite sure where I was in the race or what my true pace was. As I passed distance markers, I would check in with my watch to see what it said. For instance, at the 10km marker, my watch said I had run 10.2km and by the 35km marker, my watch said I had run 35.7km. This drift is normal and is due to some degree of side to side running (to get water, go to the toilet) and not running the shortest route around corners (which is hard to do in a big race with lots of people also turning the same corner with you). However, what this meant was that I wasn't sure what my official pace was.
I began to wonder if I was going to pay the price for starting faster than intended, but I made the decision to dig deep and to hold on. I was not cramping, I was not injured, and I realized I was definitely going to run a new personal best, even if I did not make it under 3:55.
The lovely thing is that the Philadelphia marathon ends in front of the museum steps. it's a beautiful epic finish with great crowd support, but it is on a slight uphill around a corner. When the finish eventually came into view, I kept my legs pumping. I did not have the energy for a full sprint, but I finished strong and crossed the finish line in 3:54:05.
I did it. A 5 minute PR and a Boston Qualifying time (BQ) at 50!
