Coming to America

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56 Philadelphia Marathon, Philadelphia, PA, USA, 18 November 2018.

The American Dream

I first watched the movie Coming to America in 1997. I remember it very well as if it happened yesterday. I watched the movie at my school teacher’s house. This was not because there was a lesson to be learned from the movie. He had a video cassette recorder;  we did not have one at home. In fact, "we did not have a video cassette recorder at home" is putting it mildly. We could not afford a video cassette recorder at home. The movie left a mark in my childhood life. I was fascinated by America and dreamed of my own "Coming to America” story. 

Agatha’s debut marathon deferred  

I was pleased with myself when I managed to convince Agatha to register for her first and last marathon as she said. The Istanbul Marathon. We were going to run from Asia to Europe together. However, a month or so after registering and getting excited about the Istanbul Marathon, I had to put my spin doctor hat on and convince Agatha, who also doubles as the Chairperson of our Family Finance Portfolio Committee, that the Istanbul Marathon was a bad idea and I would rather go to the City of Brotherly Love, Philadelphia. Luckily, she agreed to change the plans. I don’t know if my spin doctoring was very good or the idea of running 42.2km terrified her so much that my change of heart was an easy way out for her.

Philadelphia of all places?

There are many big city marathons in America that I could have opted for. Several factors made Philly preferable to me. The history of the city and the role it played in American politics are quite fascinating. The city was founded by William Penn. He named it Philadelphia, a combination of Greek words philos (love) and adephos (brother). This translates to the City of Brotherly Love, which is the city’s nickname. Some people have added “and sisterly affection” to the nickname. There are many places of historical importance that also interested me. In addition, Philadelphia is almost in the middle of Washington DC and New York City. This would make it possible for me to also visit these other cities during my visit.

The year 2018 was the 25th anniversary of the Philadelphia Marathon. The Senshu International Marathon (https://my100before40.blogspot.com/2018/02/ive-been-there-done-that-and-got-towel.html) and the Soweto Marathon celebrated their 25th anniversaries this year. I ran these too. Such commemorative events are normally big and there are special giveaways such as commemorative medals. This appealed to me a great deal. In addition, the Philadelphia Marathon is part of a weekend running festival. The Philly weekend kicks off with the Half Marathon followed by the 8km run on Saturday. Sunday is reserved for the big one, the Marathon. Runners have a choice of running all three races, two races, or just one race. There are special medals for completing more than one race on the weekend. While figuring out how to convince Agatha of the change of heart, I was concerned that the marathon would be sold out quickly because there is no need to qualify for this marathon. However, I got an entry without any difficulty. The next hurdle that concerned me was obtaining a visa to enter the USA. That process was pleasantly easy too, given the relentless anti-immigrant and narcissistic sentiments by Donald Trump. 

After months of anticipation and excitement, I arrived in America on a very cold morning. There was snow everywhere. This change in the weather was exciting and worrying at the same time. I just could not afford getting sick before race day. Fortunately, Agatha had prepared a portable pharmacy for me and it was quite handy. I took medication at the earliest hint of catching a cold. This allowed me to enjoy the vacation before, and after, the runcation, out in the cold. We will stick to the runcation here. The vacation was a real blast that requires its own blog. I had a proper “Coming to America” experience. I saw all the gigantic GMC cars, gigantic shoes (including a size 22 which made my size 14 look really tiny) and very bright NYC lights on Time Square. Most important of all, I discovered that the NYPD is not a creation of Hollywood. It exists. My first day was quite overwhelming. I even watched the movie “Coming to America” again, just for control. Were it not for Agatha having stolen my heart many years ago, I have no doubt that I would have gone to Queens to find my queen. However, I must confess that my chances of finding a queen would have been slim to none. Unlike Akeem, the Prince of Zamunda, I am not royalty. Not even in my wildest dreams.

The Bell 

Race day was very cold. The locals didn’t seem to care much though. They all raved about the perfect race weather conditions. There was no wind or rain which could have made the conditions worse, but the cold was terrible. It was so terrible that I decided to finish the race faster than I had originally planned. I changed my targeted finishing time from a sub 4 hour to a sub 3:50 finish. I figured the shorter I was out there, the lesser I had to deal with the cold. Logical, isn’t it? As soon as the horn went off, everyone flew away. I held myself back a bit, but finally gave in around 5km when I jumped onto the sub 3:50 bus. The pace was quick. I fell off the sub 3:50 bus around 18km. It was at that point that I realized that I would not be able to sustain the pace till the end. I also figured that I was not really banking time. The theory of banking time never works in these things. You always pay for going too fast in the first half. I crossed the halfway mark around 1h54min. This was fast for a sub 4 finish and I paid for it just after the 30km mark. At that stage I was spent. I felt hungry and started taking longer breaks at water tables, eating and stocking up on food. Suddenly, the great support from the locals who lined the streets supporting us became pressure. I had earlier enjoyed their calls to keep going. These calls had now turned to pressure. It was almost as if they were saying “it very easy, you can’t possibly be struggling, you have no choice but to keep going.”

Despite the struggle, I remained focused on the sub 4-hour finish until about the 37th kilometer. This is where the sub 4-hour bus came flying past me. My time at that point was around 3h35 and I realized that there was no way I would finish under 4 hours. To finish under 4 hours, I had to run under 5 minutes per kilometer from that point to the finish. I don’t think I ran any kilometer that fast, even when I was still fresh during the early parts of the race. The task was so daunting to the extent that I even doubted that the sub 4 bus would make it. It only occurred to me way after the race that the bus was right on time when it passed me. The sub 4 bus had started a few minutes behind my batch.


Just "shufflin', shufflin"

The last 5 kilometers were a real shuffle for me. Walks became frequent and longer. Chats with the locals on the roadside also became longer. I remember one veteran passionately cheering me up with a repeated “Go Jamaica, just two miles left!” This reminded me of the previous screams. I heard a few and excitable “Go Africa” screams. “Close enough, I will take that”, I kept telling myself. I also had a few shouts of “Go Jamaica” earlier on. I did not even try to correct them. I did not want to spoil their moments, especially the “Go Jamaica!” ones. They screamed with so much conviction that they 101% knew what they were talking about.

The last kilometer was a basket of feelings for me. I was hungry and very tired. If this were any other part of the race, between the 2nd and 40th kilometers, I would have walked or even crawled. However, because this was the last kilometer, the “lap of honor” of sort. It is that part of the race that you must run head up and with pride. You cannot afford to walk this part, even if your walking pace is faster than your running pace, you must run. I could hear screams of “you got this. You are looking strong.” “Yeh right”, I retorted deep inside. Looks can be deceiving, and my looks had their "A game" on this stretch of this journey.

I crossed the finish line after 4h06. I was all smiles at that point. I was partly relieved that it was over. I was happy that I had earned the Liberty Bell (it rings too). I was glad marathon 23 of AtLeast18MarathonsFor2018 was over. I was thrilled that I had completed a marathon on my fourth continent. I was pleased that I had written an important chapter of this my “Coming to America” story. The “American Dream” almost turned into reality. I just forgot to eat real American food that I found on every corner. I will have to go back for Tacos.😂😂😂 

https://racereport.strava.com/en-us/video/a6f71e7e1b451b27a65458b16bc53c9701f8c889

As you, or should, know by now, if it is not on Facebook, it did not happen. I recorded this moment on Facebook as follows:

#100BEFORE40, Marathon 23 of AtLeast18MarathonsFor2018, Philadelphia Marathon, fully loaded. That was also Continent number 4/7 fully loaded. The Medal is one of the best I have received to date. It is The Liberty Bell. It rings, and you will hear all the noise about it😜😜      


Location: Philadelphia, PA, USA

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