Last weekend was the Broad Street Run. I decided way back in February that I would sign up and put my new holiday chunk on notice. I was coming off of the marathon and thought, oh yeah, 10 miles? Nooooo problem, man. Well then, the weather has been crappy and I seemed to find any excuse not to train. My awesome friend Marisa and I texted each other daily, "Didya run today?" More often then not the answer would be negative. What was I thinking?
I could not sleep on the eve of the run. I was worried that I would oversleep. I had to get on the Broad Street Line before it was a sardine can filled with runners. I managed to rise and walk to the corner of Spring Garden and Broad. I arrived at the station at 6:50am. Marisa texted, "I am boarding on train 571, first car, left side of track." Left side of track. That confused me. Left side. Left side?.. A few moments later a train approached. Train #521. 5.2.1. not 5.7.1. I panicked, did she read it wrong while in haste? Was it a typo? What to do, what to do!.... The doors opened just as another train approached on the LEFT side (ahhhh, she boarded the express). Train #571, yipee! The doors closed on 521 and it began to pull out, just as 571 failed to stop. What the... Marisa texted, "We did not stop! I saw you!" Rats.
So it was another 25 minutes before another train arrived. Three express trains passed packed with runners and failed to stop. I was among 30 or so other runners when the first train passed, now there had to be at least 100. A train pulled up completely packed. When the doors opened I wedged myself in muttering apologies. The conversation between the runners was the usual talk of past runs and of lost training. "Are you ready?" "What did you run at the Bladee Blah Run?" Then it happened. Someone yelled, "Was that YOU?!! Grrrrroossss! I cannot believe you did that! HAHAHAHA!" Someone farted. Really people? It went on for several minutes with discussions of what the farter had consumed to produce such a stench, until I loudly said, "Please. Shut. Up." The faces scanned the car looking for the individual who said that bold statement. I raised my hand. They looked away. My apologies, but the fart talk needed to stop. I have two pre-teen boys. Fart talk is a big part of my life and yes, it commonly elicits giggles, but in a subway car packed like sardines, it is disgusting and unfunny at best prior to running 10 miles at the crack of dawn.
The subway arrived at the Olney station, I met Marisa at the turnstiles and off we went. Marisa is much faster than me and after stretching and talking, we went off to our separate corrals. The race started and it is really the people's race. The usual young girls and guys took off sprinting. I caught up with them at mile 5 and passed. I ran the first 5 slowly and the last 5 fast. It was a great run for me. You really see a nice slice of Philly running down Broad Street with 30,000 of your closest friends. The crowds are thin until the end. It is a nice run. I recommend it.
My biggest regret is that I did not get a pic with Marisa. So, here is the one with us at the marathon.
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