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FLRC Newsletter - October 2004 |
| Philadelphia Distance Run | |
The weekend after doing two races—our first cross-country race of this fall's series and then the Ithaca Five, I ran a half marathon.
I went with my teen daughter Sara to Philadelphia, Saturday and Sunday, to do two things—for me to race in the Philadelphia Distance Run, and for the two of us to go to the Barnes Foundation just outside of Philadelphia. For anyone going to Philly for a race, be it the Broad Street ten miler in May, or the marathon in November, or the one that just happened, I can't stress enough that it would be foolish to make the trip and not take in some cultural event, be it an early founding icon, an art exhibit, or a music concert or recital, or even just walking around.
But the race:
It is a great one. Lots of friendly runners, race well put on, lovely course. The organizers had preplanned changes in the course necessitated by the recent flooding, but none were implemented. The ninth mile was over a film of mud from the overflowing Schuyllkill, but not really slippery, just enough to make it appear that we had run a tough cross-country or trail race.
Considering the health issues I have been dealing with, my lack of fitness and racing this year, and how poorly I have been running most of the last two years, I felt my expectations were realistic—under 1:25, under 1:24 if I have a good race. Definitely not a repeat of what I did here in 2002 (1:20:34). My plan was to be better rested than I have for a race this year, to go out easy, and to work into it no earlier than mile five. Sure enough:
Sunny (blindingly), dry, cool. Miles two through eight were against a 'wicked' wind, not continuos except maybe on mile three to four along Ben Franklin Way. Couldn't find a person big enough to hide behind, but I didn't make a big deal about it. I just relaxed, perhaps worked a little more, but not very. I mean, I was breathing very easy and made no more than five to ten seconds of extra effort during the entire time.
I went out at 6:20, was invigorated by the sight of all those big warships on the Delaware, and ran off a couple of 6:25 miles. Then I gradually slowed and tired, or is it the other way around. A 6:35 and a couple of 6:40, finishing off the head-wind section with a couple of 6:50s. Done with that! The next five miles were between 6:25 and 6:35. The final 1.1 was a 6:40 for a 1:25:23. An even effort, and I felt like I had given it most of all I had, but not quite as much as I have. I didn't feel like I had quite as much on the line in terms of people I was competing against, a good time, or a placing. Last time I was going for a top five in my age group and got fourth; this time I was something like 26th, and overall I was back a few hundred places.
I only saw two people I knew. A masters runner from the Chargers whom I ran near for a while around mile 10, but we didn't socialize hardly, and Pat K. after the race, just as Sara and I were leaving the scene. Pat recently moved to the Garden State. He will likely write his own race report, but he seemed to enjoy himself much as I did. It was hard not to on such a beautiful day.
After the race Sara and I walked about 1.5 to 2 hours worth, between the car, the museum, and a restaurant or two. And then we sat in the car for the trip home, mostly going 75–80 mph. I will never run so fast.
The Barnes Foundation is a mansion (see www.barnesfoundation.org) filled with collectables—paintings, sculptures, furniture, knick-knacks; plus grounds that were beautifully tranquil. I had never seen so many Renoirs, Lipshitzes, and Modiglianos in one place, and Mr. Barnes had also been a big collector of DeMuth, Utrillo, Hugo, Prendergast, Glackens—I was rather unfamiliar with the latter two. It was interesting seeing the development of their styles. There was also an assortment of other impressionists and cubists. The sculptures, other than the Lipshitz's, were less well labeled or explained unless one was willing to dig in a little more than Sara and I wanted. Hey, she didn't even appreciate the Lipshitzes as much as I did, but some of the old stuff from past millennia, especially this piece from Smyrna, she did like. She is more into the Europeans of the late eighteenth century, impressionists. The pictures are just hung crowded, beside and above/below each other, on the walls of about a dozen and a half large rooms, which were well lit. Much like that the originals in the Arnot museum in Elmira, only more so. Great showing! And a great deal.
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