NYC Marathon

Hello again friends and family. Another 24 hours has gone by since finishing the greatest marathon on the planet. It still doesn’t seem real that I was a part of it. Me? The scrawny kid who was always picked last for teams growing up. Me? The high school freshmen who had to run the first leg of the 4 x 400 relay and couldn’t catch up to my teammate to pass the damn baton. Me?  But I have pictures to prove it, so I guess it did really happen. Yes, ME.

Without a doubt, this experience has been a great privilege. I won’t say the greatest privilege…that title applies only to experiences involving my children, but this is sure up there! To be part of something so enormous is a kick. There was such a mass of humanity, the runner of course, the spectators, the musicians, the police officers, the volunteers, the media, and all the people behind the scenes that worked for months to make it happen. It is rare to be part of something so huge. It is humbling to remember I am but one small spec in the universe, no matter how important I might feel on a given day…I’m just one person out of billions. You get a sense of that for real participating in something like this.

It was a lovely bonus to get to know some new people leading up to the big event, thanks to my buddy Janice. (More on her in a bit.) This lovely group of people energized and inspired me in the final weeks with good-natured banter, inspirational stories, great advice, and the sharing of our hopes and our reservations in tackling this goal. They adopted Joe and I as part of their group and we joined them for a pre-race pasta dinner Saturday night which was big fun and felt so comfortable it was like we had known them forever. Keith, Tracey, David, Shelley, Jay and Greg: many thanks and Congratulations to all of you!

We obsessively watched the weather all week and agonized about what to wear, what to bring, what would make it though security. In the end, I decided on my tri uniform since it offered the most storage. When planning to be out running for 5 hours, you need to bring a lot of snacks! If not for the uniform, I would have darn near had to push a grocery cart along the route! We assembled our layers to be discarded and donated. We bought our gels. We found the smallest blankets in the house to fit in our clear plastic bags. New security dictated no large blankets or sleeping bags which had been allowed in the past.

As the training wound down in the final week, I had so much energy left over, I simply didn’t know what to do with myself. Instead of running 6-8 miles, I was only running half that. Instead of swimming 90 minutes, I was only swimming one third of that. I found myself doing crazy things like cleaning up the basement to spend the extra energy.

Friday arrived and we went into Manhattan to pick up our bib numbers. I couldn’t stop smiling the whole time. After training for two years, it was finally here, I was going to run in the NYC Marathon with nearly 50,000 people from all over the world. Joe and I both took some ZQuill to ensure a good night’s sleep since we knew we wouldn’t sleep the following night. It was great to not set an alarm, for the first time in recent memory. Saturday, the final wardrobe decisions were made based on the current weather report of cold, clear, windy, and zero percent chance of rain. And this night we set the alarm for 4:00.

After just a short sleep, more like a nap, we popped up, ready to roll. Once again, I just couldn’t stop smiling. There were no real nerves…just excitement. (Goes to show you what a fool I am!) We left the house right on schedule at 4:45 to make our bus at The Runner’s Edge. The buses left right on schedule as well with dozens of athletes buzzing with energy. I laid back and tried to conserve my energy for what I knew would be a very long, exhausting day. And I marveled that I was one of those athletes. Me. An Athlete. Wow.

Grinning like an idiot, I proceeded to join the river of people headed into Fort Wadsworth on Staten Island…lifting my layers to show my runner’s bib oh so very proudly. I even kept smiling when the police officer took my blanket away. And my foil sheet which was still in the packaging. When he tossed out my huge wad of napkins for blowing my nose for the next 8-9 hours, I dove on them with a small shriek…but still smiling. I informed him that my sinuses are the worst in the world and if I was going to make it through this marathon I needed lots of tissues and lots of snacks. He let me reclaim my precious napkins to the laughter of everyone around me. Looking back, I probably should have been embarrassed, but nope. I was still just grinning from ear to ear.

Next was the FOUR HOUR wait until the beginning of our wave. To my delight, Joe decided to leave in wave 4 with me, instead of wave 3 so we could be together going over the bridge. Since it was incredibly freezing, this was a smart decision so he would have less time to wait for me after he finished as well. We located Janice, Greg and Jay pretty quickly and all huddled together for the duration. Dunkin Donuts was handing out orange and pink hats and it was fun to see thousands of people wearing them while we hunkered down to wait.

At last, time to go to our corral. Now, the nerves start to hit…my mouth is dry and I am shaking…but not from the cold, from the fear of the challenge to run 26.2 miles. Dear God, what was I thinking????? Then it appears as though I will have to leave Joe and Janice since my bib is blue and theirs are orange. Tears. Yup. This is going to be an all out disaster. We get some clarification after asking 3 different people and I proceed with them to Janice’s corral. Now we are walking up onto the base of the bridge. Man this is a big bridge. Oh yes, there is that head wind we’ve been fearing…yup, it will be in our faces for 20 miles. Holy crap. What was I thinking????? My phone dies, I can’t even take a picture. Damn. Oh no!!!! My phone is dead!!! How will I call Joe when I finish???? Complete panic. How will I find him? What if we miss the bus to go back to Long Island? For sure, we have worked all of this out ahead of time. Joe calmly reminds me we have a plan and I am simply to follow the plan. How he puts up with me is anyone’s guess. Really, for such an independent woman, I sometimes fall to pieces over ridiculous things…and always at inopportune times.

In any case, weather my phone is working or I have a reunion plan or not, the Howitzer booms and the crowd roars and we start moving forward up and over the Verrazano Bridge. It is just awesome, the music playing New York, New York and the view and the people all around. Thousands of people all running for their own reasons, with their own stories, but all of us have one thing in common: we are testing ourselves with the challenge of 26.2 miles…to stay focused and not get swept up in the crowds; to remember to pace ourselves and our hydration and nutrition to last the duration; to keep going when it starts to hurt; to finish in an upright position…with a smile!

At the crest of the bridge is the one mile marker. Joe and I high five, declare our love, and say goodbye so he can run his race. Janice reminds me to go slow downhill. We marvel at all the clothes strewn along the sides of the bridge and view of Manhattan. There are no spectators on the bridge, not until we come off of it and into Brooklyn. So far, it’s kind of like any other race…and then we can hear the crowds. I have to admit, I was curious if it would be like I had heard about all this time. By the time I got to the streets, would there be anyone left to cheer? The answer is ABSOLUTELY. I was not disappointed. And what is remarkable is that they cheer for everyone. No doubt, they are there in large part to support a person or people they know, but they cheer for everyone. It is incredible. To be part of that outpouring of good will was a tremendous feeling. And it really drove home that I was part of something extraordinary, doing something extraordinary. I could feel myself getting emotional again, but had to keep my wits about me. There were legs and feet and discarded clothing everywhere and no time to be worrying over tears, I still had over 20 miles to go.

Janice and I pretty much stayed together for the first 8 or 9 or 10 miles. This was great to have a buddy by my side. But just to watch Janice is a kick. Here I am worrying about conserving steps…after all there are thousands to be made and I figure I should be smart and cut every corner I can. Not Janice. She cares not how many steps she takes. She is on the side of the road high fiving every soul who sticks their hand out. She is whooping it up as much as the crowd. I keep thinking to myself, conserve energy, nothing wasted. Not Janice. She is just enjoying every band, every kid, every cheer, every minute. And it didn’t drain her at all. In the past year, I have come to admire Janice for many reasons. On Sunday, all of NYC got to see the core of her beautiful soul. And I got to watch them enjoy her, a great experience for me.

Well, at least until we lost each other somewhere I think just before mile 10. I was 7 minutes ahead of pace up until this point. And I knew I needed to slow down. My gels were on schedule and my hydration was going just fine. I felt good, but I knew I couldn’t keep it up for another 16. So, I backed off a bit. Then we hit the Queensborough Bridge. It was just like you see on TV. Silent. Dark. Up. And Up. And people walking. Looking defeated. I hated being on that bridge. But then, you start down, and you listen. Wait for it. It’s coming, I know it is. And then you hear it…a small roar in the distance. And as you descend the ramp, it gets louder and louder…and there I am, grinning like an idiot all over again. That crowd stays with us all the way up First Avenue. Truly amazing.

My friends Debbie and Nancy were to meet me on 100^th Street. That was around mile 18. I knew to look for a neon green sign. I started counting down the blocks from somewhere in the 80s until I would see them. By this point, the legs are hurting. Not horribly yet. But enough to know that it is going to get bad and probably pretty soon. To have them to focus on for those 20 blocks was a saving distraction for however long that took. I found that sign my name on it like a beacon in a storm. Let me repeat that: A SIGN WITH MY NAME ON IT. I felt like a rock star with Debbie jumping up and down and screaming for me. She hugged me so hard, she lifted me off the ground. If I live to be 118, I might never feel that special again. She gave me a banana. And somehow extricated me from the sweatshirt I still had around my waist tangled up in the race belt. Gave me a kiss. And off I went with 8 more miles to go. At that moment, 8 miles seemed very manageable.

Ha.

I really thought since I did the 26 last year when the race was cancelled, that I knew what to expect. I really thought since I trained harder and better this year, that it would be easier. What I learned is that 26.2 miles is not meant to be easy. Ever. People might get good at it. But it is never easy. I started living one water stop to the next. Just make it one more water stop and you can walk through it I would tell myself. Just make it to the Bronx and you can reward yourself with turning on your iPod. I did get a small second wind in the Bronx. Then I hit 5^th Avenue in Manhattan. This is a net uphill for a while. Oh my stars. This is when it got really, really hard. And now my walk breaks were not always in the water stops. And the sun was getting lower, and the temperature was dropping. I cannot really describe how horribly tired and cold I was during this stretch. At no point did I want to quit. But I was now certain that my goal of under 5 hours was not happening. And the negative thoughts started to swirl. Joe is waiting. He must be freezing. What if I can’t find him. What if we miss the bus back. People are tracking me. They know I’m failing. I’m letting them all down. And on. And on.

It takes some kind of strength to work your way out of that. And several of you have told me that you were watching and rooting for me at the end when I slowed down. Well, thank you. Because I did get going again. I told myself, yes, they are tracking me, they can see I’m still moving, it might be slow, but I haven’t given up. Joe will wait for me. He loves me. We will go home together on the bus or the train and it doesn’t matter. Just keep moving. Just keep moving. Just keep moving. My walk breaks were shorter. I won’t say my running was any faster, but I did feel stronger. So, thank you for all your good wishes and prayers from afar…you got me through.

I finished in 5:18:28. Not my goal, but I finished. And I found Joe. And we made the bus. J