Philadelphia's usually teeming streets are dark, empty, and quiet. It's 3:30 a.m. and sleep blankets the city. Inside the Philadelphia Marriott Downtown hotel, however, a light burns steadily in the fitness facility, where a lone blonde woman pounds the treadmill.

Welcome to the start of Cathy Mason's day. This is the opening morning of the American Academy of Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation's (AAPM&R) 66th annual three-and-a-half-day assembly and my assignment is to shadow its dynamic director of meetings and conventions for two days. I arrive at 8:30 a.m. and learn she's already put in four hours of double-checking, streamlining processes, and troubleshooting.

Dressed in a black pinstriped suit, and wearing a pair of flat, sensible shoes, Mason is warm, effusive, and supremely focused. In one hand she carries a Nextel communicator and over her shoulder is slung a voluminous black leather bag containing a binder crammed with key names, numbers, and the day's schedule. Around her neck hangs a small pouch holding a notepad and pen.

Mason, who lives in Portland, Ore., has been in town for almost a week, convening with vendors, hotel management, and helping to stuff 2,500 tote bags for attendees. She's been in the meeting planning business for 20 years, the last eight of which she's held the meetings and conventions director position with the academy. Planning for the annual assembly begins a year-and-a-half in advance (the site is chosen five years out).

Thinking on Your Feet
She confides that there was a "small problem" the previous night. "A key staff person left unexpectedly," she explains calmly. "When that kind of thing happens, you have to think on your feet. We worked late last night to reassign all of her responsibilities."

Attendance is expected to be around 2,100 this year. There are 90 educational sessions and workshops scheduled, many involving medical equipment demonstrations. "I'll be stepping in a lot more than usual, maybe even making beds for the workshops this afternoon," she explains of her newly re-assigned duties.

This is Mason's last event with AAPM&R. The academy is based in Chicago, and she recently relocated to Portland, so she's decided to look for opportunities closer to her new home. Tonya Almond has been hired as Mason's replacement, and she's in Philadelphia to get familiar with the assembly's proceedings. "With the staff person leaving, Tonya isn't just watching, she's jumped in to help. It's actually worked out well," says Mason, smiling at Almond who nods then zips off to check on booths in the Exhibitors Hall.

Not only was yesterday challenging due to the staff departure, but the meeting setup, including installation of the registration desk and members' resource center, as well as the hanging of signs and banners "took longer than anticipated," confides Mason. This morning, all is humming along smoothly, though. The registration area is manned by smiling staff, the tote bags sit ready to be dispersed to attending members, easels with directional signage sit through the convention center and hotel pointing to poster presentations, seminars, and the plenary session in the ballroom. Attendees greet each other over coffee and sodas obtained from tables in the hallway, and a glowing Internet station beckons anyone who wants to check e-mails.

Multitasking
Mason's Nextel beeps. "We need chairs in the ballroom," a staff member says. Mason directs the person to speak with the representative from GES, the academy's decorating company, who in turn contacts the union labor personnel hired to do all the lifting and carrying on site. Not letting a moment go to waste, Mason checks her notes and heads to the Hawaii Visitors and Convention Bureau display, across from the coffee table. "I'm picking up a DVD that's promoting Hawaii, host to next year's AAPM&R meeting," she explains.

Striding across the vast convention center floor, she messages the Marriott's director of event management, James Peggins, CMP, to meet her in the walkway where the two properties merge. The Marriott, with 1,400 guest rooms, is housing the majority of attendees.

Nanoseconds later, she hands him the DVD. "That's for convention TV. As was previously arranged, can you broadcast it later tonight when people will be in their hotel rooms?" she asks Peggins, who affirms her request. The Nextel beeps. "Are the balloons up yet?" a tiny voice squawks. "Gotta go check!" replies Mason and heads toward the ballroom.

There are 26 people - 14 staff and 12 vendor partners - connected by Nextel. It's Mason's lifeline, but she's also got her cell phone on hand in case the Nextel's batteries die. Minutes are precious and Mason is loathe to fritter them away on technical difficulties. She's in constant communication with a rep from GES, as well as her AV company and the convention center. Also programmed in are numbers for her student intern Marlene Sider, and people in charge of exhibits, security, education, and catering.

As the clock ticks away, she does double duty whenever possible. In her free hand she's scooped up some missing signs to place in front of the escalators leading to the ballroom.

Deftly positioning the boards on the easels, she continues walking without losing a beat.

It's time to locate an exhibitor who is lending an EMG (electromyogram machine, which measures muscle tension) to one of the workshops. The gizmo is worth a bundle and Mason wants to make sure it's transported safely and stored securely.

Down to the Wire
We head into the Exhibitors Hall. A forklift truck is moving rolls of carpet and booths lie in pieces on the floor. Mason glances at her watch. The meeting's kick-off reception, an important opportunity for exhibitors and members to network, is at 6 p.m., only a few hours away. It's to be held in this space. She says with a shrug, "Well, as long as it's all ready at 5:59 p.m., it's OK." Today, breathing room is not a luxury she's going to enjoy.

We locate the EMG supplier and Mason gives her directions to the workshop, which starts in 30 minutes. Flying through the huge convention center corridors, we get to the room first. A long table is set up at one end. Mason sits on it and it quivers. The table has to simulate a hospital bed and hold a volunteer who will be hooked up to the EMG machine for the demonstration.

"We need something a little more sturdy," Mason tells two movers who are setting up chairs. One by one, three other tables are examined, each with varying degrees of shakiness. She goes back to the original table, decides it's the best choice, and minutes later it's tucked and fluffed with sheets, blankets, and pillows (dropped off earlier by another staff member). "I wasn't kidding when I told you I'd be making beds," she says. The workshop room is now in shape and she stays to help direct traffic into the space, and count the number of participants.

Proactive, Not Reactive
The next message on the Nextel is a frantic report that plants are missing from the ballroom stage. "Are you sure?" she asks. Affirmative. Mason checks her black binder and calls the plant-for-hire company. They say the palms were delivered. Mason asks them to track the delivery and call her back. A moment later they call. Mason keeps her voice neutral, yet tinged with a positive authority. "Well, they're not here now. Please send someone over immediately to rectify the situation." Beep. The voice on the other end of the Nextel reports that the plants have been found. "Oh dear, I was quite stern about the plant people coming over," she says punching the company's speed dial number on her cell phone. "My apologies. They found them. So sorry to cause you any alarm."

One of Mason's keep-in-control mantras is "Be proactive, not reactive." She says it's about solving problems, not creating them. That includes taking the blame when she makes a mistake. One of her staff has just pointed out a minor session scheduling conflict. "I have to take responsibility for that," she admits, and immediately contacts the parties involved and a new session is set up for the next day.

I estimate that with all our walking throughout the cavernous convention center (plans have just been approved to almost double its capacity to 541,000 square feet) and the Marriott hotel, we've covered at least 100 miles. Mason, who not only runs marathon races, but also is an ironman triathlete, hasn't taken a five-minute break yet. She admits she's "fading a little." She rushes up to her room in the hotel and 15 minutes later is back freshly spritzed with perfume (Knowing, by Estee Lauder. Too bad they don't make one called Doing), hair fluffed, and feet shod in shiny black heels.

It's almost time for the plenary session, "Useful Signals from the Motor Cortex." She positions herself at the entrance of the ballroom. As various board members and directors stream by, she shakes hands and exchanges pleasantries, all the while keeping a sharp eye on the AV team who fuss with cables and microphones on stage. Another staff member attended the dress rehearsal earlier in the day to make sure there would be no glitches, either with the AV presentation or getting on and off stage for one of the speakers who is in a wheelchair. It's 4 p.m. and the session begins. There's not one technical glitch. Mason heads back to the Exhibitors Hall to monitor booth installations and the F&B islands.

Rolling With the Punches
Does she get stressed at times like this, when there's no window for error? "I actually feel pretty calm. You have to roll with the punches," she says. The Nextel beeps. Before answering it she says almost to herself, "I have to stay extremely focused because priorities change constantly."

All day, Mason has not eaten a thing. How does she keep up her energy? "I had an athletic energy drink when I went up to change my shoes. It's 800 calories of pure protein and carbohydrates. It's really convenient when there's no time to eat a proper meal."

At that night's reception for 1,200, there are hot and cold hors d'oeuvres and an open bar. She doesn't touch a morsel. After the reception, she scoots across to the Marriott's elegant Liberty Ballroom to check on the president's private dessert reception for 75 guests. The Viennese cakes, chocolate-dipped fruit, and cordial cocktails look luscious, but she doesn't stick around to enjoy them. Instead, she goes back to the Exhibitors Hall, makes sure the reception ends at 8:30 p.m., closes out with catering and does a bar inventory.

"I estimated seven pieces of food per person and had 150 pieces left over," she says, admitting she prides herself on razor-close F&B estimates. In two hours, the attendees had less than two drinks per person. "You get to know your group pretty well," she explains.

Mason heads back to the dessert event, signs the check, and calls it a night. "I'm too tired to even watch CNN," she admits.

Day Two
The next morning when we meet, I learn sleep wasn't immediate last night for Mason. There was a problem with the hotel's convention TV access and the Hawaii promo did not air. Mason isn't worried now, though. "It's back up and running and the hotel is going to give us a discount and will run it on Sunday as well, so all's fine," she says cheerfully.

One of the morning's first priorities is to clean up a common area. Via Nextel, Mason commands a brigade to pick up trash lying in the hallway and around the e-mail stations. So far, she's been informed that the only major glitch has been a no-show of flowers for the sponsor's tables at breakfast. Mason makes a note of it in her binder then focuses on lunch - not hers, but the 37th Walter Zeiter Luncheon and Lecture, held in the Marriott's grand ballroom. Tickets must be purchased in advance for the limited-attendance event.

A stream of attendees approaches her asking if they can buy tickets now. Mason keeps cool. "We have a 5 percent overage plan with the hotel. This hasn't happened in eight years I've been with the academy," she whispers to me while gathering ticket-buyers' Visa numbers. Thankfully, there are enough seats and no one is turned away.

Today is quieter than yesterday. We have time to stop for a coffee and Mason shows me the board room she's booked in the hotel, adjoining her room. On the table are sheaves of paper and a binder the size of five New York City phone books bound together. "This is my spec book. It covers each day's schedule in detail, and contains phone numbers for all vendors, job orders, venue maps, and every bit of paperwork needed for the meeting," she explains. The giant tome stays in the board room and she physically downloads what she needs for each day into the more portable black binder that fits into her carryall.

We're coming to the end of my on-site surveillance, but she still has a day-and-a-half of the assembly to go, plus a day of post-con wrap-up with major vendors, the convention center, and the hotel. Mason admits she's already checking off in her mind what must be packed and shipped back to the head office, what staff will be returning when, what charity to send the overflow tote bags to, and how she'll conduct her meeting evaluation with the hotel.

I call her a week later, after she's decompressed and her adrenaline levels are back to normal. Attendance, she informs me, was "shy of our forecast by 80 people, but we're pretty much still on budget." Right now, she's readying for the post-con staff debriefing meeting where she'll go over what went right and what could be improved. One point she tells me that she'll highlight is the way her staff "pulled together to ensure the success of the meeting, despite a key person's departure." Plus, she plans to throw in a few trivia questions about Hawaii to keep everybody on their toes. "I like to generate excitement for next year's meeting," she explains. Although this meeting may be over, another is just beginning.

Killer Questions

• Why is the registration so expensive?
  The registration fee covers all the costs associated with the meeting. Expenses include: Audiovisual: $80,000; Welcome Reception: $45,000+; Refreshment Breaks: $40,000+; Carpeting for Exhibit Hall and Poster Presentation: $25,000; Preliminary and Official Programs: $80,000.
•  Why are only two hotel options listed?
  The academy gets a substantial discount for meeting space, sleeping rooms, and other services at the headquarters hotel. As a result, the academy is required to occupy a large percentage of its hotel rooms.

Sticky Situations

• Attendee insists payment was sent, but no record of payment is available
  Have the attendee complete registration form (on-site form) to include credit card number. And explain the policy/clause stated on the registration form that says, in summary: We know you think you have paid, so we will double check. We will not charge this credit card number until we get back to our office and have reviewed our records. If we show non-payment prior to, we will then, and only then, charge the credit card.
• VIPs request special allowances (e.g., discounts, free tickets, waiver for spouse rate)
  Tell them that the board has not developed policy in this regard and we are not able to waive fees. Exception: Past presidents do not have to pay to attend the meeting, so their spouses/family can attend events free of charge.
• Language barriers (difficulty understanding attendee)
  In summary, ask them to speak slowly, and repeat. Keep voice at same level - do not shout because you do not understand them (a natural reaction). If language is an issue, refer to the list of languages hotel staff speaks.
• How to deal with an angry individual
  ° Don't take it personally.
  ° Be aware of your tone and volume: Don't reflect an angry person's tone and/or volume back to him/her.
  ° Be aware of your body language: Don't take a defensive posture or make a face.
  ° Rise above the situation: Never swear, threaten, accuse, or invade someone's personal space in response. - M.L.

° Contributing Editor Maureen Littlejohn is a freelance writer in Philadelphia.