The NYC Marathon - Part 3 - The Race

The morning started like any other race morning, dark and quite.  Since I chose to take the early ferry to Staten Island (5:30am), my day started quite early, at 4:00am for dress and travel to the docks.  After I clothes and lubed up and used Nip Guards for the chest, it was layering time.  While the temp would be in the mid-40's, the forecast called for high winds.  Keeping warm until the race started at 9:40 would be paramount.  Ski pants, sweatpants, and multiple jackets were the clothes for the day, which would allow me to remove layers as the temp rose.  After gathering my belt, GU, bib, and hat, I headed off to the docks without waking anyone in the hotel room.

The city that never sleeps seemed to be taking a nap, as the only people I saw from the hotel to the docks were racers, all bundled up, all excited and scared of the next 10 hours.  Since it was far too early to eat my normal breakfast of bagels and peanut butter, I grabbed a Clif bar at the docks and joined the crowd boarding the ferry.  At this point I was concerned with how I would hold up for the race.  I had an issue a month and a half before the race to my foot that caused my training to move to a non-running solution for a month, and I was concerned that it wouldn't hold up to the stress of a marathon, even at a slower pace.  I was worried about pace, as I was in the first wave, with the 8 minute milers and faster.  Basically, I was worried, but all that went away the minute I saw the Lady, standing there in the harbor, greeting all of the runners as they headed towards the start of an amazing adventure through her great city.  Seeing her put my mind to rest.  My pace didn't matter, my foot didn't matter.  I was running the largest marathon in the world, through one of the greatest cities in the world that loved this race and its runners so much, they shut the city down for us.  This would be amazing, and I wanted to take it all in.

The view from the Bus before heading to Fort Wadsworth

The dock on Staten Island was several miles from the actual staging area at Fort Wadsworth and while it would be interesting to use those few miles as a warmup run, the wind was enough of a deterrent to choose the bus as transport.  The benefit of being so early to the staging area was a lack of people, so there was zero wait for a bus.  After the bus took a wrong turn leaving the dock, we headed to the staging area and the long wait for the start.

The view heading to the staging area

The staging area was at Fort Wadsworth, which is at the base of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, and the area was split into three sections, based on the color assigned to each runner.  The starting line is at the base of the bridge, on both levels.  Two groups would start on the upper level of the bridge, split between the two lanes, while the last group would start on the lower level.  I was in the green group, which started on the lower level.  All group green racers met on the other side of the fort, with a nice open field to gather in, outside of the parking lots.  The wind at this point was gusty, but not too bad, but it reminded me that I should have brought something to cover my ears, as all I had was my white Shamrock cap.  Luckily, Duncan Donuts had a free hat that could solve this issue.  While it was “something I didn’t train with” I grabbed one to help for the start of the race.  At this point, I found a place on the grass to lay in and get more rest, while waiting for the start.

Verrazano-Narrows Bridge

The corrals open at 8:30, and closed at 9am, leaving us 40 minutes to get to know our fellow runners, and try to keep warm.  In these corrals resided big blue bins where runners were putting clothes they wanted to donate, which is where I placed all of my throw away clothes.  Several people were actually hanging inside those boxes to keep from the wind, or find clothes to help keep warm, as they came under dressed.  At 9:30, Wave 1 moved to the starting line, so we stripped down to our running clothes and headed out.  The National Anthem was played and the Mayor spoke, twice, due to a commercial break, and we were off.  Everything went well for the first 2 minutes, and then we hit the bridge over water.  Cross winds of 45+MPH were slamming us at a steady rate, and within 5 minutes I had lost my cap.  For the next 2 miles, each runner made a valiant attempt to stay on their feet and not crash into the runners to the right of them, while dodging clothes, bags, and anything else that had now become a projectile.  The two miles went quick, and everything felt good, while each of us tried to draft without any disasters.  The next few miles put us on the highway, and then through small community roads, as we moved down a slightly different path from the path used by the upper level starters.  The wind was still there, but we waved enough to help hold it off, and we had enough people to easily draft. 

First Avenue!

We then hit Third Avenue, where all of the runners merged together.  This went far better than I thought, making me wonder if these NYC runners merged like this with thier cars.  Here we experienced the wind directly, as it was now a steady headwind.  From this point until Queens, we would be in the open, with a valley of buildings directing the wind at us.  Here also started the 45MPH cross wind bursts.  All of my planning of drafting and slowing down for the wind, all of the strategy that should have been put into play at this point, all of it was tossed out the window.  Not because of forgetfulness, not because of pain or tiredness, but because of the people.  Third Avenue was lined on both sides with a sea of people cheering for anyone and everyone.  Police stood on the medians cheering the runners, and bands lines the sides playing a wide range of music.  All of this energy, all of this joy rushed over me like a wave, and I rode it.  As I came up to the police on the medians, I would try to high-five them, and when they would let me hang, their partner would give them crap.  I would run the crowd and high-five everyone that had their hand out.  The joy was so great, I just wanted to keep running hoping it would never end.

Almost to Manhattan part 1

As we got closer to Queens, and thus closer to the halfway point, I kept looking at my watch, as I felt I was running slower than my planned race pace of 8:30, as it felt like 9.  It would seem that, even with the headwind, I was keeping pace, so at the halfway point I chose to keep pushing the same pace.  It was risky, as I know I had been fighting wind the whole time, but without risk, how can you learn?  On to the 59th street bridge and Manhattan part 1.  The crowds were still full as we weaved through Queens, keeping the energy level high.  I could see the Manhattan ahead of us and started to think of the bridge and the fear everyone had for it.  Could it be as bad as the 14th street bridge on the Marine Corp Marathon course?  The answer would be yes.  The 59th street bridge is a double-decker bridge, where we would be using the lower level.  Only runners were allowed on the bridge, so as we turned onto the approach, which was a steep grade up, the cheering crowd faded into the background.  All we could hear was the traffic above us and the footsteps of each runner as they pushed through the bridge.  The view was interesting, as it starts over Queens and then across the river, but the view ahead was depressing.  You cannot see the exit of the bridge until you are almost on it, so you never get the feeling of almost being there.  Instead, all you can think of is "When will this end?".  Something was needed to get the energy back, as I was slowing down and my drive was fading.

That something was First Avenue in Manhattan.  As we got closer to the end of the bridge, you could hear the growing roar, the amazing energy that could only be a New York City cheering crowd.  The break in silence was amazing, with each runner picking up the pace, showing a smile and gaining back some of that drive lost across the bridge.  We passed through Mordor and we were no worse for wear.  Turning onto First avenue also meant that I was just a mile away from my wife Sallie and my father Steve.  They were waiting at 92nd Avenue, and that gave me a push and focus.  Only stopping briefly to remove a stone from my shoe, I recovered a good amount of my pace by the time I met up with them.  I said my hellos, got a kiss, and headed back out and up First avenue to Harlem.  The crowd here started to thin, compared to the mass of people earlier in this section of the course.  At mile 19, the wind and pace finally started to take a toll, as my hip flexors started complaining.  I dropped the pace a bit, knowing that we still had headwind until Mile 21, and once we got to Fifth Avenue, we would get a tailwind.

Running after walking up the Harlem bridge

This strategy went out the window less then a mile later, when we hit the bridge to Harlem.  The steep uphill triggered more pain, causing me to walk a bit up the bridge and run down the other side.  I pushed through Harlem and when we hit the bridge back to Manhattan, I ran into the same issue, so I walked a bit more and moved to a run/walk strategy.  This worked for a bit, but the pain grew and by Mile 22, I was done running.  I was also mad that the expected tailwind wasn't there, instead we got more headwind up Fifth Avenue, which was uphill.  

Sad, annoyed, and in pain, walking

I sent a text to my wife, informing her that I was in trouble, but that I would be walking the rest of the way.  I knew they were waiting for me further up Fifth, and I used that as a focus point to keep moving forward.  After what felt like a century, I got to them at Mile 24, and just seeing them almost brought me to tears.  The emotions of finally getting to my support team, the pain, and the fact that I felt I had failed my father all hit me at once.   I used this emotion to push on, yelling at myself to make it to Central Park and then try to run a bit.  While this was a good idea, it didn't work, as my hip had tightened and wouldn't run more then a minute's worth before I had to go back to walking.  The crowd was amazing, even here.  Each person tried to encourage me to push forward, to get back to running, and that energy helped me as I finally felt like I would get to the end, being it much later then I had hoped.  As we rounded the corner out of Central Park, I made the decision that I would run the final section to the finish.  This meant that at Columbus Circle I had to push through the pain and run.  The crowd was loud here, cheering each runner to finish strong, and I used that to move me forward, to trot, then run, then sprint to the end.

The finish was uphill and I was in pain after I crossed the line, but I crossed, at a time of 4:24:19.  Then started the walk of the wounded to the exit.  Since I signed up for no bag checks, I would be gifted with a fleece poncho.  The problem was that it took over a mile to get to these ponchos, and it was cold, and I could barely move my right leg.  Once I finally got there, and after telling multiple first aid volunteers I was OK, I met up with my wife and father, changed clothes, and started the trek back to the hotel for a shower.  I made sure we walked as much as possible, as the walking was helping the hip, and by the time we got to the hotel, I felt 100% better.  I showered, packed, and headed to Penn Station for the train home.

After reflecting on the race, my training and how I ran it, I had many takeaways.  Drafting and slowing the pace a bit was paramount to surviving this race, and I deviated from that strategy too quickly.  The fact that I lost over a month of running near the end of my training also proved to be a problem, as that was one of the factors that led to my hip flexor having issues.  Most important, I reminded myself that running is fun, that the atmosphere, crowd, and course was amazing, and just finishing such an iconic race was enough for me.  Now it is off to rest, then training those hips and legs to help stability from here on out.  Remember that there is no such thing as a failed race, unless you never use the lessons learned, and keep repeating your mistakes.