2010 ING New York City Marathon...finally!
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Staying warm in the Start Village
before the start of the marathon. |
45,000 people. That is how many entrants there were lined up on Staten Island in the cold, dark morning hours of November 7, 2010. Yet, for all of the people that were there or arriving by the hundreds, it was very quiet.
I don't have a lot of running experience with which to compare my New York experience, but this one was different all the way. From the first day of training until the moment I crossed the finish line, this marathon was truly something special and I learned something about myself in the process.
After I qualified for Boston with my marathon time at June's Rock 'N' Roll San Diego Marathon, I had it in my head that I should hold back a bit and not wreck my body for New York. I thought I should save something for Boston in April 2011, since that will be my fourth marathon in fourteen months.
Before I even mention the marathon, I have to say that one of the best parts about the trip was to be able to see new things and go places with Christy and Gabriella. Gabriella in particular has been very patient and supportive with all of this marathon nonsense, and I really don't think I could do it without her. The entire week leading up to Sunday, I was thinking about how cool it was going to be to be able to see her and Christy out along the course somewhere. However, it turns out that the best parts of the trip were all the things that we did together. (Something to be learned from that)
Race day
Not wanting to be a real-life example of the Seinfeld episode, I had a small amount of paranoia that my alarm wouldn't go off and I would miss my ferry to the start. Luckily, between two BlackBerries and two alarm clocks we found in the rented apartment, I was able to sleep with confidence that I would up at 4:05 a.m. without any drama. As it turned out, my eyes opened a minute before the alarms went off. I got ready, kissed my bride, and headed for the subway on time.
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| En route to Staten Island...a little inspiration. |
Getting to the start village on Staten Island wasn't difficult - it just took a while. I exited the subway in Lower Manhattan at 5:30 and walked a couple minutes to the Staten Island Ferry. After only a short wait there, the rest of the zombies and I boarded the 5:45 ferry and were soon on our way. Previously, I wasn't sure if there would be any light or not, and I'm glad there was not. En route, we picked up a little inspiration shining in the dark. At the other end, we walked to buses and headed the final three miles to the start villages.
To say it was cold would sound like complaining. Of all the days we were in New York City, Sunday was the best of all them. It either was pouring rain, was gray and cold, was windy, or was all of the above on each of the other days we were there. However, it certainly was not comfortable like it has been for every other race I've run, and there was nowhere to go to get out of the chill. I arrived at the start area at 6:30 and had until 8:10 to turn in my gear bag and move to the start corral, at which time I would have only the sweats I would discard as layers to cover me. The only thing to do was to burn energy and keep moving around, and have a little hot coffee and hot water.
A little after 9:00, after sitting in the start corral for 40 minutes, we began moving to the start. I discarded my sweats and had only a beanie and my gloves in addition to my t-shirt and shorts. With the sun now out and the crowds breaking up the breeze, it actually wasn't as cold as I thought it would be.
The start
After all the pre-race formalities, the cannon went off at 9:40 and the race was underway to Frank Sinatra (and most of the runners) singing "New York, New York."
It turned out that I crossed the start line about 3:20 after the gun went off - right as the song was ending. I could not have planned it better if I wanted to!
The much-anticipated climb off of Staten Island up the first mile of the Verrazano Narrows Bridge was (for me) much ado about nothing. There were too many runners to go out too fast, and the slope up the 160-foot vertical climb was gentle and steady - certainly not as severe as any of the slopes I've trained on. As I climbed and especially when I got to the top, I moved to the side so I could take in the amazing views with an eye toward Manhattan and the eventual finish.
Brooklyn
Coming off the bridge, it didn't take long to arrive into the middle of thousands of cheering fans hollering and clapping. I think I high-fived most of the people along the right side of the course for about 6 miles and waved at the rest. I was conscious of my pace the whole time, noting that I was going faster than planned but feeling good - a decision I would question later. Brooklyn was wall-to-wall people all the way to the halfway point of the marathon, the Pulaski Bridge. In retrospect, all the support was inspiring but the emotion of it was also overwhelming enough to take something out of me somewhat. As I crossed the bridge headed for a quick trip through Queens, I thought that I might have to be careful to keep my emotions in check.
Queens, Queensboro Bridge
It was only two short, very turny miles through Queens, but there were still a lot of people. I feel like I missed a lot of the atmosphere of Queens, though. All I could think about was getting across the Queensboro Bridge to Manhattan and "my people" waiting for me on the other side.
Just after Mile 15, I began the climb up the bridge. It suddenly got very quiet, and I instantly missed all the noise that I thought was tiring me out before. Now all I could hear was the sound of struggle around me as some runners began to test their limits. I was reminded of the last few miles of the Rock 'N' Roll San Diego Marathon out on Fiesta Island. It was warm, there were no spectators, and people were dying out there.
All I wanted to do was get off that damn bridge.
Manhattan, The Bronx, and Manhattan again
I could hear the crowd before I saw it.
After a nice downhill descent back to ground level, I reached Mile 16 and left the bridge to even more people than were in Brooklyn. Six to ten people deep along the sidewalks, the crowd was screaming and hollering and cheering. I waved and they cheered louder, and it filled me up with emotion and energy. Thousands of people cheering for
me (and, yes, I know also for the other runners, too).
A couple of minutes later, I looked at my Garmin and noticed I was running a sub-7:00 pace. Holy crap!! Combined with the downhill of 1st Avenue, the emotions lit a booster rocket about 9 miles too early! It took me the better part of the next mile, but I finally got myself slowed down where I needed to be and started counting down the blocks to the northeast corner of 1st Avenue and 85th Street.
Luckily, the crowd was all running on the left side of 1st Avenue - I have no idea why. However, it was perfect. As I passed 83rd Street, I moved to the right with no one else around me and began to search for the hot pink scarf wrapped around Gabriella's neck. There they were! I coasted to a stop and said my hellos, dropped off my hat and gloves I had stuffed into my pockets in Brooklyn, and got a kiss before taking off again.
That was the best part of the entire race.
Within a couple miles, I was crossing the Willis Avenue Bridge into The Bronx. Mile 20 was ahead, and I was now beginning to feel pain which was gently masking the exhaustion. The people of The Bronx were loud and proud did everything they could to push us on. It wasn't their fault I didn't want to see them at all...I just wanted to get to Manhattan and get to the finish line. I crossed the Madison Avenue Bridge and Mile 21, pleased to have my feet back on the ground in Manhattan.
It was about this point that a few doubts were creeping into my head. My feet were in pain. I knew I had a blister developing on one of my toes. My legs were screaming. The damn European runners kept cutting me off on the turns. I actually thought about how good it would feel to stop, and quickly realized that I would still be in pain and would have failure piled on top of it. I pressed on, but allowed my pace to drop a bit. I was ahead of schedule and could afford to do it.
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| Smiling or just in pain??? |
At Mile 22, I ran around Marcus Garvey Park and could finally see 5th Avenue stretched before me. It is a straight shot down 5th Avenue and into Central Park. I was getting close, right? In the distance, I could see the Plaza Hotel at the southeast corner of the park and knew we had to get to that point before we went around the south end of the park after Mile 25. The Plaza looked as far away as Pluto...and it was uphill.
Pain.
And I knew then that I need to walk for 15 to 20 seconds to get my head back in check.
I started again....legs screaming, people cheering. We got to Central Park and shortly thereafter passed Mile 23. Just a 5k from here...no problem. A mile later, we entered the roads of Central Park and its rolling hills, and I knew I needed one more break before pushing through.
Just before Mile 25 is a vicious uphill. I had seen it a couple days before and knew it was coming, and I picked that spot for my final gut-check. After about a 30 second walk, I neared the top of the hill and took off. Running around the south end of the park, the crowds got even louder and more thick. Runners were struggling trying to feed off their energy, and I just pointed my gaze straight ahead.
We turned north and reentered the park. Mile 26 was just ahead on a downhill stretch, and I passed it and started running as fast as I could. The last 0.2 miles was going to get everything I got because there were grandstands full of people waiting for all of us to come through as fast and as hard as we could. I couldn't even feel the uphill into the finish line as I waved and acknowledged the support from the stands.
3:27:52 after singing "New York, New York" on Staten Island, I was crossing the finish line and stumbling through the finish area.
Mission Accomplished.
I am going to repeat the same training plan I used for San Diego, and I am currently reading "Racing Weight" by Matt Fitzgerald. While I think I know what my optimum race weight is from my San Diego experience, I also don't have the most professional diet even when I am serious. I am probably not going to change in that regard, but there are enough changes I can make (and I have enough time to do it) that I at least should not be able to blame any problems in Boston on my level of fitness.
