Philly Half Marathon - Recap

I had a few goals going into this race.

The most ambitious was a 2:15~ which is the corral I put myself in.  After I PR’ed the 10k in August, I wanted to try at the half-marathon. Again, an ambitious goal. The Philly half was waitlisted by that point but I joined the waitlist in hopes of getting in. September was hectic, and we know how I felt heading into and running the Philly distance run.  You also know, if you go back and reference that post (you don't actually have to, but I can shamelessly plug it here for you), that I said, and I quote, "I'm really looking forward to 13.1 miles of redemption".

Well, a few things...

October was a lighter month of running.  No excuses. I ran when I could. I ran when I wanted to. I did run an amazing 24k trail race in Delaware. I kicked off November with a 6.5-mile long run, and then a day later, I weirdly got sick out of nowhere. Like, fever sick.  I didn’t run for 14+ days.  My new goal became to have fun during this half. Also, to hurt.  And under it all, to hate life a little bit less on Kelly Drive. Redemption would have to wait.

Thursday and Friday, heading into race day, were really rough and emotionally draining. I had a scary (for lack of better words) medical procedure, followed up with a few phone calls from my doctor, which led to a lot of emotional stress and worry. (Side note: I know this entire blog exists on the premise of vulnerability, and I share pretty openly about how I'm feeling, but I struggle with disclosing too much medical stuff — at least for now.) So, TLDR: I was stressed. Frazzled. Drained. Not excited at all. On top of those feelings, with the absolute wreck the Philly Marathon Expo was, I almost didn't want to run at all. But, I couldn't not run.

What I’m proud of is that I woke up on Saturday morning without an existential meltdown. (I think I can speak for my husband when I say he is equally happy I did not wake up in crisis mode.) I will say that when I woke up and heard the rain, I got a little cranky.  I have no problem running in the rain, but it’s far easier when it rains during the run.  To start in it? That’s tough.  Regardless, I’ve always prided myself on not being a fair-weather runner, so I got dressed, packed a few different layering pieces if I needed them, and headed out.  I got to the city around 6 AM and had a solid 20 minutes of panic when the parking lot I was counting on being open was full.  I aimlessly drove down side streets, looking for an open spot, when I finally found a garage.  Even better, it was less than half a mile away from the start. As the weather gods would have it, the rain stopped at 6:30 as the weather apps said it would.  I headed down to get past security, got in line for the bathroom, and then made my way to the corrals.    

My corral was E, but I started back with the H corral — right with the 3:00 pace group.  I liked starting back here because I wanted to take the beginning slow, make sure I paced myself correctly so I didn’t blow up halfway through.  I felt at peace standing in the corral waiting, far different from how I had felt back in September. We started around 7:40~.  I haven’t run Philly since 2023, and surprisingly, I never remember courses anyway, so every turn was a surprise for me.  The first few miles, I kept it slow.  I felt good, but I know better, especially with minimal training, than to run off of “feeling good” — I’d be crashing in no time.  So, I reminded myself to take it easy and take it all in.  When we got to Columbus Blvd, I finally started to warm up and ditched my first layer.  As we made our way past mile 4 and to Front St, I had no problem remembering this part of the course. Year over year, it's a party neighborhood.  “You yell Philly, we Drink” vibes.  I made my way to the left side of the street and grabbed a shot of beer.  I’ve run this race so many times and have always wanted to stop and do this, but I've always taken myself too seriously.  I guess you could say that a few years on the trails have taught me to loosen up.  After that, I made my way through the next few miles, getting excited turning onto Walnut Street, which was one of the most electric, contagious vibes I’ve ever experienced in a race.  lululemon was right before mile 7 with a DJ, confetti cannons, and some of my favorite people cheering. Shortly after mile 7, I saw a table with shots of Fireball.  In the spirit (ha) of having fun, I ran over to take one.  I haven’t done a fireball shot since the Marine Corps Marathon in 2018, but there’s something about the sugary sweetness that hits right during a long run.

We made our way past Penn and through Drexel, passing the Zoo.  Around mile 8, I started to get tired, but not to the point of being unbearable.  As it began to creep in, I reminded myself that I wanted to hurt (although I wasn't feeling hurt yet).  Miles 9-11 were through Fairmount, my least favorite part of Philly races, ever. Sorry, Fairmount, but you’re difficult to get to from a cheering perspective and just boring.  I did get excited as I realized that, hitting mile 11, I was making my way to Kelly Drive, inching closer to mile 12, and closer to the finish.   I picked up the pace downhill, making a left onto Kelly, getting ready to see the second lululemon cheer station.  Let me tell you — lululemon cheer stations have a way of making you feel so loved, and not just because I work there and they know me.  We do such a good job of bringing energy and uplifting runners; it’s truly magical.

I ran through our cheer station, got a confetti cannon on me (a lifelong running dream come true!), and kept moving towards the finish.  I knew my coach was somewhere along Kelly, and I finally spotted her a bit after.  I hugged her, briefly chatted (did not cry — for once), and continued.  I could’ve pushed to finish faster, but didn't feel a need to. I crossed the finish line and was instantly filled with happiness. This was one of the most fun races I've ever completed. I had no expectations, no pressure — the main goal I had was to have fun, and fun was had. I didn't even hurt as much as I had wanted to, which, if I'm being honest, I was a little disappointed about. But rather than hurt, I am filled with gratitude when I think of yesterday: my able body, the gift that all of this is, the strangers who filled the streets and brought the energy when it was needed.

11.24 —

I wasn’t sure how I wanted to end this recap. I ran for fun, I didn’t have any inspiring moments, or epiphanies to link the day to grief or my Mom.

But I come back today, to add on two things.

I read a quote from one of my favorite running authors on Instagram this morning.  Josh Lynott shared, “If running helps you love the world more, keep running.”   

Shortly after I saw that quote, I was having a conversation with my friend Jimmy about how running is a team sport.  We often say running is an individual sport, a thing you do solo, but it’s truly not.

Running gives back to you what you put into it.  You can’t fake it (well, without consequence you can’t fake it).  But also, perhaps what’s more encouraging is, the energy you give into running will always find its way back to you, whether through hard work shown in PR’s, or the human lives you impact through inspiration, kindness, and community.

I am always in awe of the humans who fill the streets on race day morning.  I’m in awe of the humans I see showing up for their loved ones by holding a sign, holding their gear, holding their fuel, running parts of the course with them. The humans running the last mile of the marathon with them as they hold back tears — tears of pain, of joy, of pride.    The humans who show up to cheer on strangers, to encourage them to finish strong, to make themselves proud.  

These are the humans who make it a team sport. These are the humans who make me love the world more.  These humans of Philadelphia this weekend are the reason I come back every few years to run this city (even after every race, I vehemently declare “never again, Philly, never again”).  These humans are what make this sport so incredibly special. Something a medal can’t capture, a feeling I wish I could bottle up and hold on to. And until I make that happen, these photos will have to do.

(photos by @annetteleephotography)

Thank you, Philly — you always find a way to make it special.