Including the Philadelphia Distance Run (PDR), I signed up for three races this Autumn. The other two, as you are now on the edge of your seat I'm guessing haha, are the Abbott Dash To The Finish Line 5K in New York City and the Rothman Orthopaedics 8K in Philly, both in November.
When my running journey began a baker's dozen ago (that's 13 years friends), I remember declaring aloud to someone "I'm going to LIVE on the 5K circuit!" That was the goal. Run as many 5Ks as possible, rarely to tackle a distance with a greater length.
Goals change.
But before I begin to tangent and bore with sagas of yesteryear: how my first race was the Rock 'N Roll Half Marathon (which took the place of the PDR Half until 2019), then Broad Street, and the days when I would purposely line up at the end of each five kilometer race to see how many people I could pass, let me attempt to tunnel vision my rickety attention span to my first race this year, the PDR 5K.
I sign up for races for five reasons: (1) if the race has a medal, (2) if the race is a distance I feel comfortable suffering* through, (3) if it's a bucket list race, (4) if it's a tradition** race, and/or (5) if enough of my Original Propaganda Athletic Club (Opac) Family are racing and I don't want FOMO setting in. PDR checks all five boxes for me.
* suffering in a good way. Runners know *
** tradition meaning I always run this, and I'll probably always run this **
It has been quite a while since I've shown up to a start line with the goal to PR. I have been nursing a sore Achilles for so long that it's as if I prefer talking about this injury as opposed to taking care of it. I could do the smart thing and, you know, go to the doctor's, receive a proper diagnosis, and begin the road to recovery. But light–limping around Walnut Street (Philadelphia) and Wayne Avenue (Wayne) so people ask, "what's wrong" and I can launch into my "I'm a runner, yada yada, I was wearing these shoes with a different drop than I'm accustomed to, yada yada, more runner babble, yada yada" spiel has become such a vibe.....
I'm also wildly out of shape. More on that later, but my two goals walking up to the start line were to (1) gauge how good, or bad, my right Achillies really is and (2) FINISH.
My wife Jamie and I actually make it to a race on time for once. As we're walking up, The Master Of Ceremonies grabs the microphone and says "5K runners, 10 minutes until start time". Perfect. Time for both of us to use the restroom, hit the corral, queue up the playlists, and GO TIME, right? WRONG! Each porta potty line is packed with Half–Marathon runners who, smartly, but at the time annoyingly, are early (read: really on time) for their race. Then, exactly 2 minutes after the 10–minute announcement, the MC says we have 2 minutes until start time. WHAT?!?!? Confusion and panic set in. I check my watch. Jamie checks hers. The clock math wasn't mathing. Reality: we either use the potty now, begin the race late, and start chasing. Or begin on time and try to find a potty mid race. We chose the latter.
GO TIME.
I'm not sure what it is, but the first mile is always THEE LONGEST 1 MILE EVER. It seemingly took us an hour to get to mile 1, and then half that time to get to mile 2, and half that time to get to mile 3. Then the finish is always THEE LONGEST .1 MILE EVER. I normally can't explain it, but the fact that we needed to use the restroom so gravely definitely added to the, um, experience.
Goals met.
We found a short porta potty line.
Goals met, part deuce.
Once we crossed the finish line, somewhat pain–free, I realized that I hadn't done most of the things I typically do to prepare for a race. Yes, I bought the new Nike shoes from Philadelphia Runner (PR). Yes, I ordered the matching socks from the United Kingdom (sorry PR). I normally do an entirely new fit, accompanied by a Lay Down Instagram Post. I settled for an Insta Story.
I left my hat in the car. I never run without a cap. ciele made a cap with DFL on the front (Dead F4%king Last) that I wanted to wear because the ciele cap I wanted to buy from PR last Friday sold out (so when I tell y’all to act fast before things sell out I'm telling you the truth!!!!!).
I desperately need a new pair of sunglasses. I'm kinda feeling THESE.
The race strategy was to run/walk because (1) run walking is dope and I genuinely enjoy it, (2) see aforementioned Achilles quibble, and (3) see aforementioned out–of–shape quibble.
I hated the fact that I walked more than I planned. Part needing to find a potty, part being pins–and–needles worried about reaggravating my injury, with a ladle of "I Need To Get Myself Fit". I remember saying during the race that I was never going to race again at Mile 1. And that I was only going to race out–of–town at Mile 2. And that I couldn’t wait to race the PDR 5K in 2025 at Mile 3. Runners know.....running is Emo.
To sum this brain dump up, please don't call it a comeback. Call Philadelphia Distance Run 2025 A Comeback!
See you next September.....
