There I was, standing on the left side of 1
st Ave
in the middle of the
New York City Marathon, having just descended the
Queensboro Bridge around Mile 16, unable to run.
The Queensboro is often referred to as the
most difficult of the bridges in the New York City Marathon course for a number
of reasons:
1) It is the only place on the course where there are no
spectators, so you are on your own;
2) Having already run 15 rolling miles including
the Verrazano and Pulaski Bridges, your legs are already tired before starting
the climb;
3) Next to the Verrazano, which you run with fresh legs, the
Queensboro is the 2nd largest, so you need to save something to get
over it with relative ease.
So after
descending off the Queensboro, I entered the wall of noise that awaits runners
as we take a sharp downhill off the bridge and a left
turn onto 1
st Ave, only to see my
race seemingly slip right away from me at the exact moment I had imagined
myself turning up the intensity.
For 16
miles, NYC was the loudest, most amazing race I’ve ever participated in.
But at that exact moment, I heard nothing
except the curse words that were coming out of my mouth as my left hamstring
abruptly decided its day was done.
Literally thousands of people were yelling at me to keep going, but all
I could do was hold a slight stretch for a few seconds and attempt to jog off
in the hopes that my body would simply snap back.
But let me back up first and explain how I got to that
point, because there is way too much to say about this race. In so many ways, it was one of the most
amazing races I’ve ever experienced. But
it was also disappointment in my eyes, because I wasn’t able to soak in as much
of the race as I would have liked due to my predicament at Mile 16.
Pre-Race
The race weekend began much like most out of town races for
our family – an insanely early wake up Friday (on the road by 4 am!) to both beat rush hour traffic in
the DC/Baltimore area, as well as to ensure Z was able to sleep for most of the
ride.
In trying to minimize the time
spent in the car, we’ve found its best to simply drive when he is
sleeping.
We got up to Brooklyn Friday
morning and after unpacking the car, we left go head right over to the expo.
Knowing all too well what a crowded expo can
do for one’s patience, let alone with a 1.5 yr old kid in tow, we wanted to get
there as soon as possible.
We arrived to
find a long snaking line outside the convention center, but it moved very orderly
and quickly, so we were inside within only a few minutes.
Kudos to the event staff for being able to
make it an easy process, despite the enhanced security presence.
The expo was decent sized, but not as large
as one might think for the largest marathon in the world.
I honestly didn’t see many good deals being
offered either.
Sadly,
some nutritional vendors present weren’t even sampling their products and were simply there to
sell and make some money.
Lame and a missed opportunity IMO.
We walked around to see
what else was there, but it wasn’t the kind of place you could spend all day
at.
I think we were in and out in about
an hour, having spent most of the time shopping and waiting in line (again, a
very quickly moving line) to buy some official gear.
The one last place I needed to swing by
before leaving was the Saucony area.
I
found out a few days earlier that
Jeff was working the expo, so I wanted to say
hi.
I was surprised to learn that Jeff
had a special present for me: the special edition
New York City Marathon Saucony Kinvara 4.
I was super
excited and honestly was torn as to whether or not to simply wear the shoes in
the race, violating the marathoner’s #1 rule: Thou Shalt Not Wear New Shoes On
Race Day.
Despite those temptations, I
stuck with my plan to use the same Kinvaras I trained in (Kinvara 3), since they’ve
worked so well for me this training cycle, having never received a single
blister while wearing them.
It was the
right call and I knew it, but a hard decision nonetheless.
The rest of the day was spent mostly lounging
around, trying to spend minimal time on my feet.
Saturday rolled around and I had 2 goals on the day: 1) Go
for a short taper run; and 2) Don’t spend much time on my feet.
Being in NYC, it is nearly impossible to not
spend some time on your feet, but I did my best.
We went down to the Brooklyn Piers and while
Z played in a park, I went for my short taper run (1 mi easy, 2 x 3:00 at
marathon effort for those curious).
I
felt like I was flying, which got me even more excited for race day, as I could
tell the taper had worked its magic.
I
felt fit, fast, and ready to race.
Of
course, then it hit me that while Saturday’s weather was near perfection
(50-60F, no wind), Sunday would be anything but.
The forecast was calling for temperatures in
the 40s, but with 15-20 mph sustained winds.
Having already raced an equally windy course this year, I knew too well
what that might mean.
Regardless, I
remained positive with the mindset that I cannot control the weather, only how
I react.
I prepared myself mentally for
a tough day, but was hopeful that the crowds might block some of the
winds.
While the winds remained in the
back of my mind (I might have checked 15 weather sites and their hourly
forecasts), I focused my thoughts in remaining relaxed.
I’ve put in the training, I’ve raced in similar conditions, and I knew in my head that I was ready for this race.
Race Day
 |
| Super early and I'm rockin my throwaways |
Sunday morning couldn’t have come any sooner.
With so much anticipation and the excitement
of a big city cheering us on, I didn’t sleep much.
In fact, I woke up well before my alarm, due
to it being daylight savings and had to stare up into darkness thinking about
my race.
But when it finally came time
to get up, I threw everything on (including my kids sized XL throwaway ski jacket) and headed out the door.
I signed up for the Staten Island Ferry,
which was only 1 stop on the subway from where I was staying.
So I took it over and followed the masses
heading in the same direction.
I
couldn’t help but notice the winds already starting to whip around.
According to the forecast, the winds were to
get more intense as the day pressed on.
Again, I told myself that I cannot control it, so I just focused on
soaking in the whole experience.
After waiting about 20 minutes in the terminal, we boarded
the ferry and were graced with views of the Statue of Liberty to the west and
the Verrazano to the east. It was a
pretty quick ride, but the views helped pass the nervous time. Once we exited the ferries, it was time for
the next leg, the buses. We simply kept
walking along the endless line of buses queued up for transport until being
told to get on. After another 20 minute
ride, we finally arrived at Fort Wadsworth.
It was here where I first felt the heightened security presence (and
more wind). As our bus pulled up to our
designated spot, we were swarmed by dozens of NYPD stationed at each bus exit
to check our bibs and make sure we only brought in a clear plastic bag provided
by the race. As we passed through each
checkpoint, we’d come across another, and another, and another. Though it wasn’t crowded at the time I was
heading through this process (approximately 6 am), I would imagine either they
didn’t continue with that scrutiny later on, or there were incredibly long
lines as a result. Either way, I felt
safe and content to show my credentials each and every time. They were there for us and I hoped others
going through the same process realized that too. I’d rather be checked 100 times and feel
secure, than walk right in and wonder where all the enhanced security was. Once through the multiple checkpoints, I
finally made my way to the Orange Runners Village, where I’d spend the next
four (yes FOUR!) hours.
Big races like NYC know how to make you feel better about
the simple fact that we’d have sit queued up in our designated runner’s village
for so long.
Dunkin Donuts was there to
hand out winter hats for those who didn’t have one, provide coffee, and
bagels.
There was also Gatorade and
water.
As the hours passed, the crowds
within the runners village grew.
It was
never packed like sardines, but the line for DD and the port potties was pretty
long.
However, since I was in no hurry
to go anywhere, I didn’t mind it.
After
laying on the ground in my throwaway winter jacket for a while, I finally heard
them announce that Corral 1 was now open.
I eventually made my way over by doing a quick jog.
Note that within the Runner’s Village or
anywhere, there was no actual place to warm up and run.
While heading over to the corrals, I found a
small section of space (maybe 2-3 minutes worth) to slowly jog.
Since it was cold and I had been sitting
around for hours, I feared that 1
st uphill mile on the
Verrazano.
Anyone who knows enough about
running marathons well knows that you can’t go from 0-60 in the early miles or
else you’ll blow up later.
But without
much of a choice, I tried to take any opportunity to get my muscles
moving.
Once I got into the corral
(numbers 5-000 through 5-999), I really felt like we were packed like
sardines.
One end of the corral was
lined with porto potties and the remainder of the corral was filled with lines
for each of them.
There was virtually no
space to sit down otherwise, except for on the ground between the lines.
It was while waiting in line that I finally
met
Hollie.
We had discussed meeting up
prior to the race since we were both targeting similar paces, so I was happy to
see her.
Not too long after meeting up, our corral started moving
forward, which meant we were heading toward the start!
We continued to talk and then ran into
Susan, who joined our slow walk toward the Verrazano.
As we inched closer toward the bridge, it
became real that I was there to run a marathon.
Up until that moment, it was all just a big spectacle.
Stepping foot on that bridge, one I’ve driven
over many times previously, gave me the chills.
After Mayor Bloomberg gave his welcome and send off to the Elite Women,
it was our time to start the show.
They
introduced the Elite Men and before we knew it, it was go time.
The cannon boom caught me by surprise, but I
still had about 2 minutes before we actually crossed the line.
Once we made our way up, Frank Sinatra was
blasting and Hollie and I went off looking for some open space.
The Race
In my head, I had the course broken up into a number of
segments: the Verrazano (Miles 1-2), Brooklyn up to the base of the Pulaski
Bridge (3-13), Queens over to the Queensboro Bridge (13-16), 1st Ave
to Willis Avenue Bridge (16-20), Bronx to the finish (20-26.2). Each section had a goal or mental reset
associated with it, so my plan was to be in the moment of each segment and not
worry about the next until I was in it.
Be in the mile your in. So that’s
how I’ve broken it down below.
Miles 1-2
 |
| Pretty sure I'm somewhere in there! |
With fresh legs, I never even felt like I was working to run
the first mile.
Maybe it was because I
was running above an 8:00/mi pace for ¾ of it, but my intent was to take this
mile easy.
I knew I’d gain most of the
time back in the 2
nd mile back down the other side.
For both miles, I simply wanted to remain in
control.
It was crowded and I had to
weave some, as I didn’t want to give up too much time.
My limit was nothing slower than 8:00/mi, because I didn't want to have to run other parts faster than planned to make up the time. After that first ¾ mile, the bridge became
more flat and I began picking up the pace a bit to come through Mile 1 in
7:50.
Right around this time, the bridge
sharply descended and with freshly tapered legs hopped up on adrenaline, many
runners ran way too fast.
I would
cautiously glance at my watch to make sure I wasn’t falling into the same trap,
but my goal here was to stay in control.
I ended up running a 6:40 mile, which is by far the fastest mile I’ve
ever run in a marathon, but given the context of running down a large bridge, I
felt it was a conservative way to start.
Miles 3-12
 |
| We just met in real life but we're totally holding hands |
Mile 3 began as we entered Brooklyn and started the long
trek up 4
th Ave.
My goal for Mile 3 was to settle into an
easy/steady effort, which in my plan was between 7:10-7:15.
We were immediately greeted with crowds and
loud music playing nearly every block.
I
kept telling myself to don’t let the excitement force my pace, so I’d reign
myself in a number of times.
I soaked it
all in and crossed Mile 3 in 7:12.
I had
lost Hollie in the 1
st mile on the Verrazano, but didn’t want her or
myself to stress about sticking exactly together since it was pretty crowded
and we each needed to run our own races, despite having similar goals.
Sure enough, somewhere during Miles 3-4, she
ran up on me and we ran together for the next couple of miles.
 |
| Sneaky uphill stretches through Brooklyn |
The course generally trended uphill in the
form of extended false flats rather than actual hills, so you felt like it was
mostly flat, but it wasn’t.
We both had
family expected to be spotting us between Miles 7-8, so we were on the
lookout.
Unfortunately, I missed my
family, so I passed through without seeing them.
With a 1.5 yr old, I never assume anything,
so I figured he didn’t take so well to standing around.
Turned out, at around the exact moment I
probably came through, one of the NYPD nearby requested to randomly search my
sisters bag.
Oh well, onto the race.
 |
| Cruising through Brooklyn |
As the miles ticked by, it was cool to see the changing
dynamics of the neighborhoods, both in the people spectating as well as the
music being played.
Brooklyn was
loud.
In my opinion when I came through,
louder than any other borough (including 1
st Ave in Manhattan).
And while I’d like to think I soaked it all
in, the reality is that I spent most of my time looking 3-5 ft in front of
me.
Anyone who has driven in NYC knows
that they aren’t known for the pristine shape of their roads.
Well when you cram all these people through
these streets, everyone has to put their foot somewhere.
I just wanted to make sure the place I put my
foot wasn’t a pothole or on top of someone else.
The worst thing that could happen in a race
like this is a stupid injury.
So I had
to spend much of my time watching the road.
I did make sure every once and a while to look up when I could, which
always left me in a better mental state.
Seeing so many people along the course, literally without a gap, gave me
one of the most proud feelings to be there running this race.
But I quickly came upon one of the only breaks in
crowds, which meant only one thing – the Pulaski Bridge was near.
 |
| Headed up the Pulaski Bridge at Mile 13 |
Miles 13-16
Exiting the crowded masses onto the first of two big bridges
gave me a sense of accomplishment. I was
now entering the section of course where I knew it was time to get started to
work. While I never intended the push
the pace on the bridges, my goal was to hold steady effort. I found myself passing quite a few people, a
number of which were already cramping.
Based on my research of the course in advance, I never considered the
Pulaski Bridge to be a big climb. But as
we started the climb at the foot of it, it sure seemed like it, not to mention
the wind that was fully slapping us in the face. I pressed on and crossed 13.1 in 1:34:28,
which was right where I wanted to be. I
was still feeling fresh and I loosened up on the downhill as we entered
Queens. After winding our way through
Queens for a short bit, we quickly entered a more industrial stretch that
brought us closer to the Queensboro Bridge, which was looming in the
distance. There were still crowds
around, but a bit less so than in Brooklyn.
DJs spun music with some fast beats to get us ready to hit the bridge. I made sure not to push on the climb, so I
backed off the effort some. I was still
passing lots of others who appeared to be struggling from the early miles and
felt really strong. While I didn’t have
a goal pace on the bridge, my goal was to run it by feel, knowing that I held
back. I felt I did a good job of keeping
a steady effort without going too far into the red. Once we crested the top, we gradually headed
downhill. The one thing I remembered
about descending the Queensboro Bridge was that the downhill wasn’t nearly as
steep as the uphill, meaning you didn’t get the chance to run equally fast
downhill and you had to slow on the uphill.
That is, until we hit the exit ramp off the bridge. A sharp u turn literally drops you out onto
the street, with a quick turn onto 1st Ave and a return to the
crowds.
Miles 17-20
My pre-race plan was to get off the bridge feeling
relatively good and start to up the pace a bit slightly. I turned onto 1st Ave to find the
streets lined with people screaming (though still less loud than Brooklyn, but
with more people) and a wicked headwind.
I haven’t much mentioned the wind, primarily because it was there all
day. It never stood out for me, other
than being a nuisance to my overall time goals for the race, but once we hit 1st
Ave you could really feel it whipping right into our faces. As I started to pick up the pace, I quickly
received a shockwave down the back of my leg.
Out of nowhere, my hamstring began to tighten up. I couldn’t believe how good I still felt and
was having this happen. I pulled off to
the side of the street to stretch, only to find thousands of people yelling me
to get back and run. Trust me people,
I’d be running if I could.
So there I was, having the best marathon race, feeling
better than I’ve ever felt 16 miles into the race, and my hamstring has decided
it has had enough.
I started with the
usual attempt at slowly running again in the hopes that my body would gradually
relax and I’d be able to get back on pace in a mile or two.
Over the next couple of miles, I’d continue
to keep running, but would learn that every downhill would cause my hamstring
to tighten to the point of having to stop.
Not good when you had every intention of blasting through this section
of the course.
I started going into emergency
mode and grabbed Gatorade from each and every aid station.
In the past couple of marathons, I’ve found
this stuff, which I typically despise, to help me late in races.
I’d run through an aid station and grab two
cups to drink.
This section of the
course was very rolling, with a fair amount of uphills, but also some
downs.
Each time I hit a down, I’d get
that same shock into my hamstring.
The
only thing I could conclude was that the downhills from the bridges caused too
much fatigue that my body wasn’t ready for.
Truth be told, I ran lots of hills in training in preparation for this
race.
Too bad it was the uphills I
focused on.
And while many of my tempo
runs and long runs included stretches of downhill running at race pace, I
probably should have spent a bit more time doing some focused downhill running
repeats.
 |
| Cresting the Willis Avenue Bridge at Mile 20 |
By the time I got to the Willis
Avenue Bridge, I was mostly running ok, but if I kept the same pace, I was
pretty confident that I’d come in slower than my last marathon, which would leave me short of my goal to PR despite the tough course and conditions.
So with nothing to lose, I made an executive
decision to do the one thing I’ve never considered doing in marathon when
things were tightening up and my body was slowing –
Go as hard as I can for as long
as I can.
Miles 21-26.2
I had only 10k left to go and my body had raised its white
flag to surrender.
But I was not about
to have any of that.
I worked too hard,
spent too many early mornings, had come too far to give up that easily.
So I fought with everything I had in my heart
and mind to say shut up to my body.
And
for the first time in a marathon past the 20 mile marker, I felt reborn.
While the huddled masses were cramping and
slowing, similar to myself only a short bit ago, I was flying.
As I continued picking up the pace while
heading up and over the Madison Avenue Bridge, I passed by Hollie and wished
her a strong finish in her first marathon (
she killed it in 3:17!).
In her words, after discussing our races, “I took off like a missile”.
 |
| Despite it being Mile 24, I still look pretty good! |
When planning my race strategy, I had read all about Mile 22/23 and the
long uphill stretch up 5
th Ave once we came back into
Manhattan.
I knew it would be tough no
matter how my race was going since it was so late in the race, but given my
recent revival, I hit that hill with a mental state of “bring it on!”.
I passed by my family, who said I looked like
I was still moving really well.
In fact,
I threw down a 7:09 on that uphill mile!
 |
| Focused on the finish |
As we crested the hill, we entered Central Park, which
despite my tunnel vision of just wanting to be done, was loud and encouraging.
Unfortunately, most of this section of the
course was yet more downhill.
So despite
my ability to run again, the downhills still bothered me.
I did my best to keep pushing with everything
I had as I slowly counted down the minutes I had left to run.
With only 2+ miles to go, I knew I’d be done
in 15+, so I just kept pushing.
 |
| Almost done! |
After weaving through the winding road in Central Park, we dropped back
onto the road along Central Park South, for what seemed like an eternity as we
headed toward Columbus Circle in the distance.
Once I made it to Columbus Circle, Central Park West seemed like the
longest stretch ever, not to mention all uphill.
Having signs started with 800m to go helped
break things up, but I was starting to get a bit fuzzy in the head.
I was running on fumes by now and knew that
the finish line was near.
The difficulty
with the last ½ mile is that you can’t see the finish line until you’re virtually
there.
The emotional boost one gets from
seeing (not hearing) the line typically helps give you a little bit of extra
oomph for the last stretch.
I was
hurting.
I knew it was coming, because I
passed signs that said 400m, then 200m.
I visualized myself running on the track and how little I had left.
But until I saw the actual finish line, I was
convinced those signs were a big fat lie.
Finally, after 3 hours, 13 minutes,
and 1 second I crossed the finish line with a new PR (by 1:34)and earned every bit of
it.
 |
| Exhausted at the finish |
Division Place: 304 out of 4,259 FinishersGender Place: 1,647 out of 30,589 Male FinishersOverall Place: 1,775 out of 50,134Pace: 7:23
Doing some rough math based on research I've come across of running into a headwind that is at about the equivalent speed as you are running (my pace is about 8.2 mph and it was
widely reported to be at least a 15 mph sustained headwind), it would have cost me about 10-15s/mile. Seeings as how the winds were blowing faster than I was running for nearly 21 miles, I think its safe to assume I've left myself quite a bit of room for time improvement next time.
 |
| Proud of my effort on a really tough day |
Sometimes you have the race you dreamed of, and sometimes
you don’t.
For me, part of my dream was
completely fulfilled.
I ran my absolute
best effort on the day, which gave me a PR of 1:34.
No amount of
“what ifs” have haunted me since this race.
I can’t control many things like the course or the weather, but I can
control my effort.
I gave this race
100%.
And while I have much greater
aspirations in terms of a finishing time, I have no regrets.
This WAS the race I dreamed about.
I’ve always dreamed about having a race where
I ran the last 10k strong without sacrificing the early miles by going too easy.
And while I
experienced some issues prior to getting there (cramping at Mile 16), those
only added to the accomplishment of it all.
This race had all the excitement and drama, and I came out the other
side stronger.
Stronger knowing that I
can push through the pain when it sets in no matter where on the course.
Stronger knowing that even on a challenging
course in even more challenging conditions, I can still run my best effort.
 |
| Not gonna lie - having my name on ESPN was one of the highlights of the day! |
Anyone who has spent some time with me knows that I have
greater goals than what I ran here.
But
anyone who knows me also knows that I will keep running no matter what.
My fire was lit before this race.
Now, it is bigger than ever.
I’m hungry for more and I have the patience
to do it right and keep chipping away.
 |
| Couldn't have done it without the support of my cheering squad! |
This is already getting long enough, but I'll follow up in another post about my post-race thoughts and lessons learned going into the next one.
For those interested, below are my 5k splits, followed by my
hand timed splits at each mile marker:
