Philly Fun

by Michal Kapral

Sunday morning I woke up at 5 a.m. and went down to the street to watch the Leonid meteor shower while enjoying a breakfast of two stale bagels, an energy bar and a Gatorade. I saw a few spectacular streaks in the sky but my craned neck was starting to hurt so I went back up to the room to guzzle some bland hotel coffee, hoping the tasteless brew at least had some caffeine in it.

Everything went well at the start line. Charlie was ranked 17 and I was 22, but there didn't appear to be any Kenyans in the line-up which made us happy. The gun went off and a couple of minutes later I look beside me to see none other than Joseph Nderitu, the Kenyan who trains in Hamilton and has a not-too-shabby marathon PB of 2:15, not to mention the course record for the Around the Bay 30k. So there goes my first place finish. 

Charlie hooks into the lead pack of about seven runners and takes off after  two miles. I hold back and let some others pass me, sticking to my watch rather than the competition. I hit the half right on my goal pace of 1:15 and a bit with dreams of negative splitting for a sub-2:30. But the course if pretty challenging. There are a couple of big hills and lots of rolling hills. One section is old cobblestone, probably built around the time the Declaration of Independence was signed, and I'm sure it's not the racing surface New Balance had in mind when it was designing my racing flats. 

At 14 miles we loop back into the start area again, where Dianne takes a photo and Amanda hands me my bottle of de-fizzed Coke. The crowds are very thick here and I run through them chugging Coke like I'm in a commercial. A woman yells to me: "Now that's my kind of runner!" 

Charlie is nowhere to be seen. I picture him flying far off in the distance. I can't believe my eyes when I see him at the side of the road near 16 miles. He says he's sick and can't go on. Later I learn that he was overcome with some serious gastro-intestinal problems. Ok, he had bad diarrhoea, probably related to the stressful night before the race or eating late. So yes, even superhuman Charles Bedley is mortal and has the same bodily function as us ordinary people. He took it well. In fact, we spent much of the nine-hour car ride home joking about it. The good news is he ran the first half comfortably on pace for a sub-2:27 and ran the first eight miles with Joseph Nderitu. Look out for this guy next year. You ain't seen nothing yet. He might need to do it in Depends but I think he'll be flying in 2002.

 I'm still determined to run under 2:30. I've been running on and off for the whole race with a guy named Mike who has "For Andy" written on the back of his shirt. Andy was a good friend of his killed in the World Trade Center. Since I've been staring as the "For Andy" letters for many miles now I decide to dedicate my own race to Andy.

In the last six miles there's virtual carnage on the course. I pass three separate guys who have all dropped out spectacularly, one being taken off in a stretcher, another writhing at the side of the road and another on his hands and knees staring at the grass. Man, and I though I was hurting! I'm trying to beat Mike so I can get 10th place, but he overtakes me at 25 miles and I have nothing left. I eke out a 7:30 mile at the end and finish 11th in 2:32:40.

Charlie, Dianne and Amanda meet me at the end and soon we're off for wood oven pizza, beer and several weeks of reeeeeelaxation.