Running Broad Street 2010--Part II

My alarm awoke me at 5:30 Sunday morning. Drowsiness enveloped me as if defiantly negating that feeling of refreshment that I craved. Zombie-like I climbed out of the bed and made my way to the kitchen.

For breakfast, I departed slightly from my usual fare, about 4 ounces of orange juice, 16 ounces of coffee, and a bowl of a granola-like cereal. Instead, I halved my coffee allotment and substituted a frozen cinnamon-raisin bagel for the cereal. Nevertheless, this was sufficient to awaken me. Then, after finishing my coffee and dressing, I began to down one more liter of water before the race.

I arrived at the starting area at 7 a.m. My first task was to check a bag containing toiletries and a change of clothes on one of the gear buses. While I lacked confidence that I’d retrieve my bag with any degree of ease when the race ended, I surrendered it and hoped for the best.

When participating in a race with 30,000 people, should one be surprised that much time before and after the race would be spent waiting in lines or in crowds? When I checked my bag, it was already about 7:25—one hour until race time. As I headed for the field where people were warming up and waiting for the start, I ran into a co-worker and his father, both of whom were running. That I would run into an acquaintance so soon after arriving—did this suggest that locating other friends among the crowds would be relatively easy?

I ran a couple of laps around the track and then spent some time stretching. Then I realized that I was going to need to pee before the race began. Once again, I had to stand in a line—this time for about half an hour, during which time I downed the first of five energy gels I’d brought with me.

Prior to this race, I’d never had an energy gel. I did so this time because a friend had used them for the first time the previous year and believed that they may have made a difference in getting her across the finish line. I didn’t know what to expect. I knew that some people thought that energy gels bordered on the unpalatable. Still, I was concerned about having the energy I’d need to get to the finish, so I committed to ingesting them during the race. As it turned out, I didn’t find them as bad as I’d feared; in fact, the only disagreeable aspect was the awful gooey and sweet sensation that lingered in my mouth for a few minutes afterwards.

As one might expect of a highly publicized, annual event involving so many people, a considerable amount ceremony accompanies the Broad Street Run. At 7:45, for example, a celebrity of some sort led the crowd on the athletic field in stretches. While probably beneficial for some—I, like many, did not take part—its significance struck me as more of a community ritual than an effort to enhance the fitness of the stretchers.

After I finally got to through the line, it was to time to head toward the starting area. Leaving the field, I immediately encountered yet another large crowd, all of whom were moving in the same direction. Meanwhile, the opening ceremonies continued, as various local dignitaries, including the mayor, made public-spirited statements in support of the runners. I’m not sure that many people paid attention to these voices that blared through the loudspeakers. Nevertheless, I’m sure that the social functions of such pre-race activities are far from negligible, even if I cannot articulate what those might be.