Standing in the corral at the start of the Philadelphia Marathon, I went over my race plan in my head: take it easy the first two miles, then pick it up to my planned race pace of 8:20 per mile. If I could hold that pace, I should finish in around 3 hours and 40 minutes, comfortably qualifying for Boston by 10 minutes.
I signed up for this race because a bunch of friends were doing it, but also because of where it lands on the calendar. I’m 58 years old, but this race counts as a qualifier for the 2027 Boston Marathon, when I’ll be 60, and 60-year-olds get an extra 20 minutes of qualifying time compared to the 55-59 age group.
It was a crisp fall morning, about 35 degrees. I was wearing an old sweatshirt over my running gear, planning to discard it before the race started (the race will donate these discards to Salvation Army).
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| Just me and 12,000+ friends, getting ready to run... |
The time passed quickly, and soon we were on our way! There was plenty of room to run on the wide Benjamin Franklin Parkway, and everyone around me was running a similar, comfortable pace.
The first couple miles took us through downtown Philadelphia, which made me worry about whether the pace my Garmin displayed was accurate. GPS watches are notoriously inaccurate among tall buildings, and we were running through a sea of them. I would only know my true pace when I passed a mile marker. My watch was showing a pace of 8:00 per mile, too fast for my plan. But I felt very comfortable and was breathing easily, so I just decided to maintain this pace. My watch recorded 8:02 for Mile 1 and, surprisingly, I passed the mile marker just a few seconds later. If this was too fast, it sure felt good! I decided to continue running by feel and ran the next mile at 7:56 by my watch. This time the mile marker came 12 seconds later. It seemed that I was losing about 6 seconds per mile compared to what my watch was telling me, and this pattern continued for the next several miles. But I also continued to feel like this was an easy pace, so I clicked off mile after mile right around 8:00 by my watch (more like 8:06 by the course markers).
I knew my wife Greta and running buddies Natalie, Lori, and Elizabeth were planning to cheer the runners around Mile 6, so I started looking for them at Mile 5. The spectators were lined up 2-deep along both sides of the road, so it was tough to try to pick them out of the crowd. Mile 6 went by, and Mile 7, with no sign of them. As it turned out they saw me near the Mile 7 marker and were screaming my name, I just somehow missed them! Here’s a video Natalie took as I passed by, seemingly oblivious!
Mile 8 included the first hill of the race, a gradual incline of maybe 70 feet. I gave myself permission to slow down but I didn’t slow by much, running an 8:08. Mile 10 had a bigger hill, and this was our first chance to see the runners ahead of us because the course looped back on itself. The runners we were seeing running the opposite direction were about 2 miles ahead of us. I thought I might see one of the two Lindsays, who were trying to run in the 3:05-3:15 range, but they weren’t quite that far ahead of me.
For Mile 10 I ran my slowest mile yet, an 8:15—still faster than my planned pace, even adjusting for the course, which was stubbornly 6 seconds longer on every mile compared to my watch. I didn’t know exactly much faster I was running than my plan, but I knew I would have an easy way to tell when I got to the halfway point of the race. My goal pace would put me there in 1:50, so I made a mental note to check it when I arrived.
The course looped around the Centennial Arboretum, then went back down the big hill at Mile 12, and I continued to run 10-20 seconds faster than goal pace.
My fueling strategy for this race was aggressive—consume a total of 13 gels, about one every two miles. I had downloaded the course map to my watch and that map indicated there were 13 aid stations, so I decided to consume a gel right before each aid station, then grab a cup of water to wash it down. This was working well, but it seemed that the aid stations were coming faster than once every two miles. I was worried I would run out of gels. I decided to skip a gel at the next aid station.
Now on Mile 13, we were running up what I believed to be the last big hill of the race. As with the previous two, it wasn’t too steep, and again I didn’t slow down much. Once again here I ran right past Natalie, Lori, and Elizabeth as they screamed my name and I didn’t notice! Once again Natalie recorded my oblivious, steady run directly in front of them!
At the top of the hill I passed the Mile 13 marker, and then an unmarked timing mat which had to have been the halfway point. This is the first marathon I’ve ever done without at least a sign at the halfway point. Often there’s a big banner or something to run through, but it was clear enough I’d made it halfway. Time: 1:46:44—more than 3 minutes faster than my goal pace! I did some quick math in my head and determined that I could run an 8:45 pace from here on out and still meet my goal.
I was starting to feel the effect of so many miles under my feet but decided to press on at the pace I’d been running. If I crashed later on I’d have an even bigger cushion. Once again at the top of this hill we ran around a loop and then doubled back past the rest of the field before heading down a hill to the Schuylkill River at about Mile 16. From here it was basically one long out-and-back along the river to the finish. I held on to my 8:00-8:10 pace through Mile 17, eating a gel before every aid station but still worried that I was going to run out before the end of the race. I decided to keep consuming gels every time, then just deal with it after that. Worst-case scenario I could use the Nuun provided on the race course or grab a "fruit bar," offered at a few of the aid stations. I passed the overall race leader and then the women's leader heading back towards the finish, their day nearly done. They were absolutely flying!
At the aid station around Mile 17.7, some guy cut me off and I had to move quickly around him. Then a woman crossed behind me and passed me on the left, tripping me as she went by. Fortunately I was able to stay on my feet, but I felt a cramp in my left hamstring as I regained my balance. I told the woman to be more careful next time, and she said it was my fault for cutting her off. Whatever. I tried to shake off the cramp and kept running, distracting myself from my discomfort by looking for the Lindsays among the runners headed back towards the finish line.
I knew my watch wasn't accurate, but I'd have another chance to check my progress when I reached the 20-mile marker, now less than 2 miles away. After a few quiet miles along the river, the crowds along the course began to grow again, providing a much-needed boost! I ran through Mile 19 in 8:21 by my watch—my slowest mile yet, and slower than my goal pace. But I knew I had a lot of time in the bank; I just didn't know exactly how much.
I slowed even more as I approached Mile 20, finally clicking through that barrier (on my watch) at an 8:23 pace. Still a little slower but probably not a problem. When would I see the official marker? The flags were barely higher than the heads of the runners ahead of me on the course; often I would see the clock below the flag before I spotted the mile marker. Finally it came into view, and I looked at the total time on my watch: 2:44:00. I had 56 minutes to run 6.2 miles. I could run a 9-minute pace and still beat my goal time. Shortly after this, I reached the turnaround. I was headed back toward the finish line, with less than 6 miles to go!
At the aid station at Mile 21.5, I consumed my last gel. With less than 5 miles to go, I hoped this wouldn't be a problem. I had consumed, I believed, 13 gels over the course of the race, plus one right before the start, more than I'd ever taken during a marathon. Surely this would be enough. (As it turned out, when I got back to my room I saw there was one more gel in my running vest, so I'd actually only consumed 12 during the race!) I ran Mile 22 in 8:39 by my watch, my slowest mile yet, but still faster than what I needed. I decided to let myself walk just a bit at each aid station, to make sure I got plenty of water (and a little break).
Now I was getting text notifications on my watch. My training group was congratulating Lindsay on her finish. Text after text proclaimed that she had run a 3:08, a huge PR! This was great but I needed to see my stats! Despite this, I maintained my pace: 8:28 for Mile 23. Just over 2 miles left! Now the other Lindsay finished, with another PR: 3:14! More texts followed, filling up my watch with notifications and blocking the all-important pace field. I did manage to see my 8:38 time for Mile 24. I was going to make it. Just keep running, Munger!
When I reached the Mile 25 marker, people in the crowd started yelling "one mile to go!" In my head I corrected them: 1.2 miles. Do not neglect that last 0.2 miles! I also told myself I could run faster. I passed the official "1 mile to go" sign. Keep pushing! Would there be a 1K to go sign? 800 meters? No. The mile seemed to take an eternity, but I did manage to keep my pace up. My watch clicked Mile 26 in 8:34. Maybe a half-mile left? Finally I passed the Mile 26 marker. Where was the finish line?
At last I did see the finish arch, with its big clock, away in the distance. How could that tiny arch be less than two tenths of a mile away? Greta was here in the bleachers, cheering me on, but once again, I failed to see her. I was focused on the finish. I crossed the line. I could stop running. I stopped my watch. The time was 3:37:28 (officially 3:37:25). I had beaten my goal by 2:35. I had qualified for Boston by more than 12 minutes! My 18th marathon, at age 58, was my second fastest.
I stumbled through the finisher area, collected my medal and Mylar blanket, and made my way to the family meetup area, where for the first time all day, I found my wife Greta waiting for me. It was a great day.
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| Glad to be done! |
As I mentioned before, my running buddies also did well: The Lindsays, and Lon and Chris ahead of me, and Jenny behind me, with a Boston qualifier! Michele had a good race too, and Marc struggled but still managed to finish. It was a great day for all of us.
If you haven't have enough stats, head on over to Strava for the details on my race.
