Saturday Running Diary

We woke up pretty early, around 7:00 and took our time getting out of bed. Already we could hear the city below alive with traffic. We decided the first thing we had to do for the day was head to the Philadelphia Museum of Art. We took showers, got bundled up, and hit the pavement for the 1.5 mile or so walk.

Chicago may be the windy city, but I guarantee Philly gave it a run for its money today. The first time we hit a big intersection without any high rises, we were blasted with some of the coldest wind you could imagine. Of course, leaving Raleigh after 3 consecutive days of 75+ degree weather, anything less than Southern California is gonna feel cold.

Thankfully, the city of Philadelphia has planned well for visitors and residents who aren’t used to walking in 30 degree weather with a 25 mph headwind and there are Starbucks, Dunkin Donuts and 7-11s everywhere. (Side note - why the hell don’t we have 7-11s in NC?)

We make our way to the Benjamin Franklin Parkway and both of us comment several times on just how cool this city seems. There are statues and monuments everywhere, incredible architecture, museums, everything you could hope for from a city.

We pass the Free Library of Philadelphia. I can’t help but wonder if all the other libraries in Philly have late fee policies that rival Blockbuster. Why is it such a big deal that its free? I mean, sure you might have a late fee here and there at a library, but come on - is it that much that you really need to advertise it on 20 foot tall banners?

One thing we begin to notice is that there are these little men painted in the crosswalks every so often. I’m not sure if its some morbid reminder not to jaywalk or maybe there was some rogue street painter who felt the need to ‘sign’ his work or what. Whatever the deal is, they’re everywhere.

We pass Logan’s square and Kel’s pulled muscle is starting to give her fits so she takes a break at the Rodin Museum and gets mentally prepared for the steps at the Museum of Art. As we begin the walk towards the Museum of Art, I get the iPod out and get it ready. Yes, I couldn’t help myself. The Rocky theme and Eye of the Tiger were played on repeat the whole time we were at the museum. What can I say? Heck, my toothbrush plays the Rocky theme for goodness’ sake. (seriously)

We finally make it all the way to the museum, and there’s my boy. A life-size statue of Rocky Balboa right next to the steps. Like everyone else in my generation, I grew up with Rock as one of my heroes. I couldn’t believe I was standing next to the man himself...well a bronze replica of him. Kel hobbles up the steps as I get loose at the bottom. You wouldn’t believe how many people run these steps. Not even idiots like me who are dreaming of being Rocky, but people were running up and down them repeatedly the whole time we were there.

Finally, my time has come. Kel’s at the top and gives me the thumbs up. I refresh Eye of the Tiger and make my way up the steps. I feel super cool right now, I don’t care what you say. I get to the top, and I have to be honest - I was a little disappointed. The steps weren’t that hard. Of course, I didn’t just chase a van all the way through Philadelphia for 20+ miles, but still. Kel goes down a flight and does her best to run the steps with her pulled muscle. My girl made it, albeit ungracefully - a tribute to the fighting spirit and perseverance of Rocky himself.

Once we’re on top, its a great view back to the city. With the sun just peeking over the distant high-rises, its gorgeous. There are two Converse Chuck Taylor footprints on the top of the steps and “ROCKY” in big block letters. Either Stallone’s got some little bitty feet, or they really shrunk em down. I wear a size 9 and you couldn’t even see the prints when I stood on them.

As we made our way back down the steps, we called just about everyone we knew to tell them we’d just run the Rocky steps.

We make our way back towards the hotel, stopping again for coffee and again for some advil for Kel’s leg. The Starbucks we stopped at also had an Irish Pub in the same building named Tir Na Nog. Kind felt like home for a minute there. We warm up for a bit in the room then head down to the historic district.


We make our way down Jeweler’s Row and come upon a line of horse drawn carriages. So we took a 20 minute tour, courtesy of DaVinci the wonder-horse. A very cool way to tour the historic district. We got to see Independence Hall, the Liberty Bell, the 2nd bank in America, where the first Continental Congress met, and several other sites along the way. One of the random sites was a building our guide claimed they used in Ghostbusters for the final battle with Zuul.

Kel gave DaVinci his oatmeal cookie treat for a job well-done and he thanked her by chomping on her whole arm after the cookie was gone. DaVinci apparently isn’t a big fan of places without free refills.

We head back up Arch St and pop in to the Reading Market. We’ve heard a lot about it, but didn’t really know what to expect. Let me tell you, its overwhelming. The place is huge. You’ve got idiot tourists like us running around and not watching where you’re going, locals just trying to buy 5 lbs of bacon from the butcher (why anyone needs 5 pounds of bacon at one time is beyond me, but thats the kind of person I’d like to hang out with). There are so many restaurants in there mixed among the vendors its hard to get your bearings. Finally we stop at this indian/pakistani place and get a chicken kabob wrapped in Nan bread and a chicken sumalia which was like an empanada and tasty as all get out.

We grab some homemade fruit butter from an amish stand and some chocolate dipped pretzels from the chocolate place. The chocolate place was an adventure. They’ll dip anything in chocolate there. We saw them bringing fresh dipped items from one section of the market to the storefront and on one tray, I’m not even kidding, chocolate-dipped onions. Why? Because they could apparently. Maybe it was a dare, I dunno. But as adventuresome as I am with food - I couldn’t help but think what a waste of good chocolate that was. We step out of the market and grab a taxi.

“Geno’s.” Apparently, the cabbies in Philly assume that if you want a cheesesteak from Geno’s, you need it RIGHT THEN. This dude, oh my god, I swear we had less than an inch of clearance all around the cab the entire ride to Cheesesteak Mecca. I finally just stopped caring and figured - well, if its my time then its my time.

We get to Cheesesteak corner and the line at Geno’s was shorter so we stopped there first. Jump in line and practice our order. We’ve heard how seriously these fellas take the ordering process and I was bound and determined not to buckle under the pressure. Its my turn to shine now. “One. Provolone. Wit.” Nailed it. $7 happily spent and I’ve got 1/2 of the cheesesteak holy grail in my hand. We hop across the street to Pat’s.

I hide my Geno’s steak in my jacket, because frankly I wasn’t sure if they’d let me order if they knew I was a double agent. Pat’s even has a sign cautioning you about not screwing up your order. I’d like to think its in good fun, but I really doubt it. These boys take this mess seriously. Again, I nail it. Now we’ve got one of each in hand. I grab a drink and we sit down to see if we can finally end this cheesesteak civil war thats been raging in Philly for God knows how long.

Kel starts with the Pat’s and I take the Geno’s. I gotta tell ya, not what I expected. Its incredibly simple in its flavors. I thought there’d be some Colonel’s secret recipe thing going on, but there wasn’t. Just good, tasty steak, onions, provolone, on a thick baguette. Kel and I switch steaks. I chomp into the Pat’s and I’m blown away by the bread. The bread is incredible, steak and cheese - mediocre. Now I know why there’s just a debate. If only we could get these guys to merge somehow, we’d have perfection on a bun. I’d really hoped to come away with a clear cut winner, but I couldn’t decide. I’m sorry I failed you Philly.

On our way back, we hit McGillan’s Pub. McGillans is billed as the oldest continuously running Irish pub in Philadelphia. We went in and its packed. Good sign for 2pm on a Saturday that this is a good spot to be. We get a table and order our drinks. They’ve got a crock of potato soup going in the corner that’s just help yourself. Good stuff on a cold winter day. I sample their house Ale and Lager. Good solid beers for a house brew, nothing to write home about but I wasn’t disappointed. After we wait an eternity for our check, we decide to bounce around some shops for awhile.

We went in one place called The Open House which was sort of a homemade eclectic home furnishings store. Candles, bath soaps, handbags, jewelry, etc. All very cool, all ridiculously expensive. We step out and look at the store next-door. It has a little sign on the door that says “must be 21 to enter”. We peek in just to see what’s so top-secret to find that its a S&M store. Ball-gags, whips, collars, gimp masks...we back out slowly. Now I know why Philly fans are so angry all the time.

We stop in Macy’s and just browse through. They’ve got some professional carolers and a low-tech light show in the center of the store. Pretty cool, but its way too crowded for us. We come out and across the street is a Mitchell & Ness store. These are the people who make the uber-expensive, but super cool throwback jerseys, jackets, hats and all. I had no idea, but they’re based out of Philly and this is their flagship store. They’ve got Yaztremski, Ted Williams, and several other Red Sox jersey’s for sale. I hold one up with puppy dog eyes and kel shoots it down. She just doesn’t see the value in a $250 Throwback Jersey. There’s just no understanding women.

So now we’re back at the hotel resting up for our trip to the game tonight. Looking forward to the whole experience. We’ll blog some more later tonight or in the morning about it.