But after a summer spent hiking across Spain, when I arrived home at the start of September, I was out of shape for running. I set up an aggressive plan to train for the race, but it was too aggressive. After a long flight across the country to visit relatives in mid-September, I could barely walk! It turned out I had acquired runner’s knee, a common affliction for people who try to ramp up their training too fast.
I took the week off of running, then visited a personal trainer, who told me that I could probably rehabilitate fast enough to finish the New York Marathon, but it would be very difficult. I had six weeks to do it.
I took a conservative approach to my training, with no speed work, lots of stretching and strength exercises, and very gradually building up my mileage to a long run of 18 miles two weeks out from the race. I was running slowly, but I could at least run a relatively decent distance. It would have to do.
Two weeks later, I was in New York, waiting to board the Staten Island ferry for the race. After 10 years, I was finally here, but the weather was not good. It was already over 70°, and was forecast to get up to 75. I generally do best in races at around 40°, so this was almost as bad as it could get.
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| Outside the terminal |
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| Inside, with a few thousand friends |
Still, it was exciting to actually be heading to the start of the race. Claire, a Davidson runner who I had only just met a few weeks before, ended up sitting right across from me on the ferry, and we chatted nervously as the sun rose over New York Harbor.
Then it was off the ferry to get on a bus for the 4-mile ride to the race start. But the the plaza where the buses were arriving to pick up runners was chaotic, even by New York standards. I made my way to a "line" where hundreds of folks were pushing toward the line of buses. There must have been 10,000 people in the plaza, and the buses were loading painfully slowly. Then the row of buses would depart and another row would ease in, as the runners shoved forward. It seemed like I was only moving forward a few inches with each bus, and there were hundreds of people ahead of me. After a half hour or so of waiting, someone asked if this was normal. Several veteran runners said it it wasn't; usually you could just hop right a bus as soon as you got off the ferry. That DEFINITELY wasn't happening. I took a picture of the scene.
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| Craziness! |
Some of the runners said we should let those who were in Wave 1 get on the buses first. That made some sense, but how could anyone be sure the runners cutting ahead were being honest? What if that meant the Wave 2 runners (like me) missed their own starting times? People were yelling for folks to push forward; other people were yelling back that that was the stupidest idea they'd ever heard. I had arrived at the bus stop around 6:45, with 3 hours to spare before I was supposed to start, but now it was looking like I might miss my starting wave. It was after 8 am, and there were still mobs of people pushing and trying to get onto the buses ahead of me. One Wave 1 runner decided to jog to the start, adding an extra 4 miles to his days' run. Honestly that might have been better than standing in a hot crowd for 2+ hours!
I finally got on a bus around 9 am, arriving at the starting area at 9:20. Then I walked towards the starting area, stopping at an open porta-potty. But then suddenly I noticed that signs to the Orange corrals (my assignment) were pointing backwards. Could I have missed a sign? I turned around and found the right pathway to my corral. I arrived just as the corral was closing. "Hurry up," the race official said, and I ran through the starting area as ropes were being pulled up to close it off. I got to the starting area and looked ahead at a sea of people. Behind me was an empty freeway. I had just made it!
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| In the corral |
Soon the PA announcer counted us down, and we started the race, with the song "New York, New York" blaring over the loudspeakers. By the time I got to the start line, the song was over, but I was really here, and this was really happening. I couldn't resist taking a selfie on the bridge; it was just an awesome scene, with 10,000 runners all starting this epic event together (and 3 more waves of 10,000 to come!).
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| I'm on a bridge! Running a marathon! |
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| A fireboat with the Manhattan skyline in the distance |
The race route crosses the Verrazano Narrows bridge and then spends the next 11 miles in Brooklyn. After the excitement of starting the race, it was time to get to the business of making sure I finished it. My plan was to run the same pace I'd been running in training, about 9:15 per mile, for as long as I could. I had completed an 18 miler at this average pace, but I had slowed down drastically over the last couple miles. So the last 8-10 miles of this race might well be much slower than that 9:15 pace. Now, 3 miles into the race, I was feeling just fine, and a 9:15 pace felt quite comfortable.
In the streets of Brooklyn, people were starting the line the course and cheer us on. Some folks had signs; My favorite was "RUN FAST, WE HAVE REALLY BIG RATS IN BROOKLYN." I tried to high-5 as many kids as possible and just soak in the spirit of the community.
The runners' guide promised aid stations with Gatorade Endurance and water every mile starting at Mile 3. I was also carrying 6 gels for fuel. Since the weather was warm and humid, I knew I would need to drink as much as possible. I also had brought some electrolyte tablets but somehow those hadn't made their way into my pockets at the race start, so I decided to drink as much Gatorade as I could during the race. In the past I haven't done well with Gatorade, but more recently I had trained with it for my Ironman, so I knew I could tolerate at least some of it.
As the miles ticked by, I amused myself with little observations about the culture of the race.
• Unlike in Boston and Chicago, people in New York would dash across the course in front of runners. For the most part they managed this without incident, but for some reason even large groups of people would all try to cross together. There was no way a big group could cross without making a collision course with some of the runners. PEOPLE, I wanted to shout. YOU AREN'T GOING TO GET LOST! JUST CROSS ONE AT A TIME AND REGROUP ON THE OTHER SIDE!
• "Allie" was the most popular name for a runner. I would say that "Go Allie" signs outnumbered all other names on signs by at least 2:1.
• This was the only race I've been in where runners routinely stop in the MIDDLE of the road. They were, like, answering their phones, or taking a selfie while STOPPED. What part of RACE don't these people understand?
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| Me taking a selfie without stopping. It can be done, people! |
• The smell of marijuana doesn't bother me during a race, but chestnuts roasting give me a nearly instantaneous gag reflex. Fortunately there was much more marijuana being consumed along the course than chestnuts.
• There is a Lorimer Street in Brooklyn. It's a little different from Lorimer Road in Davidson though:
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| Not as many trees. Other than that, pretty similar to Davidson ;) |
As we got closer to the center of Brooklyn, the crowds got bigger and rowdier. The course was taped off with police tape, but no one paid any attention to that, and fans were out in the middle of the street.
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| We were getting funneled through a narrower and narrower corridor |
I would say the inconvenience of being packed tightly among the other runners was roughly balanced by the energy and enthusiasm of the crowds, so all in all it wasn't too much of a problem.
During Mile 14 we crossed over the Pulaski Bridge and into Queens. This section of Queens was fairly industrial so there weren't quite as many people as in Brooklyn but there were still plenty of folks to cheer us on. After 2 miles in Queens we got onto the Queensboro Bridge and headed towards Manhattan.
I had been told this was the quietest part of the race, but even though it's a big climb to cross the bridge, I didn't have much difficulty with it. I think I was anxious with anticipation of coming out onto First Avenue in Manhattan where the largest crowds of the race would be. Soon, I descended into Manhattan and got to see those crowds for myself. They were AWESOME! Super loud and enthusiastic (though still biased towards runners named "Allie"), and it was a huge help.
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| Running up First, getting cheered by a few hundred thousand friends |
Miles 17-20 were on First Avenue, and despite the enthusiasm of the crowds, my body was beginning to remind me that I hadn't run this far even once during training. So far I had only been taking walk breaks at aid stations, but I bargained with myself, telling myself I could start taking an extra walk break each mile after Mile 20. I had kept that 9:15 pace up until about Mile 11, but now my pace was more like 10:00. I didn't really have a time goal for this race other than making sure to finish in less than 4 hours and 50 minutes (which would qualify me for the Comrades Marathon next year). I started to do mental math to figure out what I needed to do to stay under 4:50. I convinced myself I should be fine as long as I kept the pace faster than 12:00 per mile.
The course crossed into the Bronx for a mile and a half. As we headed back towards Manhattan a woman held a sign indicating it was the LAST DAMN BRIDGE. In Harlem now, I passed a big high school band, who SCREAMED with glee at the person running behind me. Who was it? J-Lo? Drake? No, it was a classmate of theirs.
I was running on Fifth Avenue alongside Central Park, then into Central Park. Just two miles left! But I had spent almost everything to get to this point. I walked the hills. I turned onto Central Park South. One mile left! Then I turned back into the park and headed toward the finish line. I had watched Shalane Flanagan and Meb Keflezighi run this section to victory. Now I was running it! I crossed the line! I had done it!
My time was nothing special, 4:34 and change, but it was solidly under the 4:50 I needed. But New York had given me a fantastic race. Now I just wanted to sit down. Unfortunately, they don't let you do that at the end of the New York Marathon. I had to walk a mile to get out of the park. Finally, on 76th Street, you can walk back into the city. I looked for a park bench. The best I could do was a half-wall in front of a brownstone. I sat there and rested my aching legs. In a minute a man joined and asked how my race went. I said it was tough, but I really enjoyed it. Then I asked how his race went. "Oh, I didn't run the race, I LIVE here!" Embarrassed, I thanked him for sharing his wall with me. He told me it was his pleasure, then offered me a beer. I was in no condition to keep a beer down, but I thanked him for the offer. I chatted with him for 10 minutes, then headed out into the city to meet up with my family.
After 10 years of trying to qualify and run the New York Marathon, was it worth it? Absolutely! It wasn't my fastest race, or even what I should have been able to do given where my training was earlier this year, but it was about as good as I could have expected under the circumstances. And I got to experience New York in a really cool, fun way, and see New Yorkers at their best. Would I do it again? I'm not sure -- there are lots of other things I want to do first. But I would highly encourage anyone who's inclined to run a big city marathon to try to get into New York. It's an amazing experience!
