New York, New York
My legs hurt, my feet were sore, and I was tired. And that was at the starting line. But New York? Best. Marathon. Ever.
Not in terms of my time, which once again sucked--6:06:26. But, OMG, I have never experienced such an event. From the expo, to the transportation, to the race itself, everything was very well organized. And big--over 43,000 runners and 2 million spectators!
SD and I arrived in NYC on Thursday afternoon and raced to our hotel near Times Square. Our room wasn't ready and we had theater tickets for Billy Elliott, so we checked our luggage and went to the theater in our traveling clothes. The play was great, of course, and we went out to dinner afterwards. Checked into our room around midnight, which was 9 p.m. for me because of the time zone difference. The people in the adjacent room were getting in around that time and it sounded like they were talking loudly outside our door. I looked out and saw a woman leaving the room next door, so I asked her to keep it down. She wasn't American, so I don't think she understood. Or cared. Unfortunately, that was the case the next three nights and I didn't get much sleep because of it.
Friday morning we went to the expo and I got my race kit. There were a lot of exhibitors, similar to Twin Cities, which is a good size. Some expo's I've been to are so small they barely qualify as one. I tried on souvenir jackets, but couldn't find my size so didn't get one. (I made up for it by buying a Finisher's jacket the day after the race.) I bought a souvenir cap and headband, then went into the main expo. I looked at some Newton running shoes, but didn't buy any. I did buy a pair of Skins compression leggings. I wore them post-marathon under my jeans and they helped. The Nike booth was printing mile splits, so SD had them print one up for me and they gave me a velcro holder to slip it in. It didn't show elapsed times, so I didn't want to use it. I like to know what the elapsed time is when I reach a given milepost. I had printed a pace band before I left home and just wore that on race day.
SD knows good food, so we had a fabulous 5-course lunch at a Thomas Keller restaurant (of French Laundry fame.) It was everything a meal of that caliber should be. We waddled out of there and headed over to the finish line area, which was still being set up. It was so exciting and there were people from all over taking pictures by the statue of Fred Lebow. I wasn't one of them.
Five of us SLO runners went to New York and I hooked up with them on Saturday for breakfast. Then we went sight seeing, checking out the FDNY store, Rockefeller Center and then Fifth Ave. I was supposed to meet up with SD at 2 o'clock, and by 1 I was getting tired. Unfortunately, I didn't get back til 2:30, then he wanted to go to lowertown and explore the area before we had dinner down there. All I wanted to do was take a nap, but felt guilty since I'd been sightseeing with my friends so I went along. That was a big mistake and I think hurt me on race day. I knew better than to be on my feet all day the day before a marathon. We were able to move our dinner reservations up an hour and had a nice carbo-loading dinner.
Back at the hotel, I laid everything out for the race and took a hot bath. Got to bed reasonably early and then the noisy people next door got back. I had complained about them the previous night and immediately called security. But that didn't help me get back to sleep.
Race morning, I had instant oatmeal in my room, then SD and I took the subway to the Ferry Terminal. My time was 7:30, but I got swept on to the 7:15 ferry. Others stood outside enjoying the view but I just sat quietly. It was cool to see the Statue of Liberty, though.
At Staten Island, buses took us to Fort Wadsworth. That was surreal. We had to walk from the bus to the entrace and it took forever to get in, because they were checking to make sure you had your race bib. More time on my already tired legs. Clutching my gear bag to my chest, I inched along with the crowd while loudspeakers blared instructions in multiple languages. I felt like a refugee! I headed to the Orange group then called my friends. They were in the Charity Village, so after dropping off my gear bag at UPS and using a porta-potty, I went to hook up with them.
Four of us five were in the same corral, so we lined up together. I planned to run with the 5:30 group but never saw any pacer balloons, so just stayed with my friends. I guess that was my second mistake. I was wearing a long sleeve throwaway t-shirt and fleece pants over my running skirt. I planned to take them off before I crossed the starting line, but opted to wait until I crossed the Verrazano bridge. Another mistake--I made so many! There were jackets and tops discarded on the bridge and I looked for a full zip jacket. I ditched my t-shirt and put on the jacket, so that I could unzip it if it got too warm. This from a woman who won't even wear a new blouse until it's been laundered!
I ran the first half with my friend, SS. We had dedicated the race to our respective father's, but dedicated each mile to someone. This was her second marathon and she was nervous about it. Her first marathon was RnR San Diego and her knee hurt her for 25 miles, making her finish time almost 7 hours. It was fun to run with her, but then I wasn't able to keep up. She went on to finish in 5:34. I'm happy for her, but you know, ticked off that I didn't do it too!
From the minute we stepped foot in Brooklyn, I was amazed by the spectators. These people had already been cheering for a couple of hours before we got there, but they were screaming for us as if we had just won the World Series. I wished I had put my name on my shirt, because they were calling out the names they saw.
The course was mostly flat and there were water stations every mile. Also portapotty's. We ran past the first ones, but stopped the next time. The line wasn't too long. I had never been in Brooklyn before, and it was interesting to run through the various neighborhoods. When we ran through the Hassidic Jewish neighborhood, they acted like we didn't even matter. There was no cheering, and they would just cross the street in front of us as if we weren't there. That was kind of weird.
There was a Baptist Gospel Choir out there singing, though. If I were a church goer, that's where I'd go because I love gospel music. We ran through some historic areas,too, from like the Revolutionary times. In Brooklyn--who knew!
SS and I ran side by side until around mile 13. She commented that we were halfway through, but I said mile 18 is halfway. Another woman heard me and agreed. A pacer once told me that during the Twin Cities marathon. I took it to mean not to speed up until mile 18. If only I could. My half-marathon split was 2:51:39.
After that I started to fade and put on my headphones as I watched my running companion disappear in the crowd. On my own, I plodded along. I walked when I needed to and ran when I could. On the bridge from Brooklyn to Queens, I saw an elderly man who looked like he was struggling and I had an urge to run up behind him and push him. Not sure how he'd take that, I ran up beside him and put a hand on his back and asked if he wanted a push. He said he could use it and I told him so could I. Next thing I knew, he was pushing me! It got my legs moving and I kept running.
When we crossed into Manhattan from Queens, the crowd was amazing! We ran for miles up First Ave. and I was just trying to keep one foot in front of the other. I was walking a lot at that point, but tried to walk fast. Then we crossed the Willis Ave. bridge into the Bronx. My birthplace! Frankly, I was disappointed because we mostly ran through an industrial area. I don't think we ran more than a mile there.
Then we were back in Manhattan. I asked a spectator where we were. Harlem. Spanish Harlem?, I asked. Just Harlem. I guess Spanish Harlem was a little lower. My Puerto Rican family lived in Spanish Harlem before moving to the Bronx in the 30s, and my aunt later told me that it was around 111th St. Regardless, I dedicated that mile to my deceased mother (she died in 1960.) At the aid station, I grabbed a cup of water. The volunteer told me I looked real good. What a boost that was, even though I knew it was a lie! I was so tired I wanted to cry, but I ran on, telling myself I looked good.
My Garmin satellite reception was all screwed up and I had trouble remembering what mile I was in. I knew I was over the 5:30 finish, but I thought I still would get in under 6 hours. Every time I would drink some sport drink or eat a gel, I felt nauseous. I was still run/walking and when I got to mile 24 I texted SD. Then I forced myself to run and not stop. That mile I dedicated to my mother's sisters; they're in their late 70s and early 80s now. Frankly, they're the toughest women I know and I figured if they could get through what they've gone through, I could get through this mile.
At one point a coach ran up to a woman runner. She was ahead of me and to my left; this guy ran right in front of me and slowed. "Get out of my way," I grumbled as I moved to run around him. Oops, he heard me! I had my headphones on and didn't realize how loud I said it. I apologized for my rudeness, but he said I was right because it was my race. I know. The thing was he never even looked before running and blocking me.
Finally I was at mile 25 and anxious to be done. As much as I wanted to walk, I made myself run. As I approached the finish line, I looked for SD, but didn't see him. He saw me, though, and took my picture. I crossed the finish line and in a daze, walked through the chute and got my medal. Continuing on I had my finisher's picture taken. Then I headed towards the UPS trucks to get my gear back. A man walked alongside me and commented how that was the best apple he'd ever eaten. His name was Klaus and he was from Cologne, Germany. I didn't get any food! He graciously gave me his bag of nuts, claiming that the apple was enough for me.
I'd been trying to contact SD and the SLO Runners with no success. Finally one of them called me back and said she was on her way to her hotel. I thought they were going to wait, but it turns out some of them came in over an hour before me. So I picked up my gear back and headed towards the exit. And there was my husband, beaming at me as if I had qualified for Boston.
He had been there since about 9:30, having breakfast and lunch at Tavern on the Green, which also got him a seat at the finish line. His phone battery had died, which is why I couldn't reach him. He never got my message when I was at mile 24. But he waited for me to come in. He's so great!
The subway ride back to the hotel was interesting. Of course I was wearing my medal and a man graciously gave me his seat. Who says New Yorkers are rude! There were some other finishers there, and we were all talking about the marathon.
I showered and then met my friends for a celebratory dinner at Carmines. The food was unremarkable, but it wasn't about the food. It was about reaching a goal we had worked together for four months to achieve.
The motto for the NYC Marathon was Where the World Comes to Run. And it's true! The International aspect of the race was what struck me the most. Runners from all over the world ran side by side and there wasn't any animosity among the different nationalities. The world's leaders should take a cue from them. Maybe if they ran a marathon together, they would know comaraderie and there would be peace.
So that's my report. Sorry I took so long to post, but you know how life can get. People have told me that the New York marathon is the best and I never imagined just how good it would be. If you're considering this race, I highly encourage you to run it. You won't be disappointed!
posted by Dori @ 11:42 AM
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