Queens, NY. Home of the Mets (choke, cough) and... other things, I guess. I'll admit I don't know much about Queens, but that's one of the great things about this 5 borough challenge. I will see parts of NYC I would never see otherwise. And I did.
First of all, I had to wake up at 3:30am to get in my ice coffee and pre-race ritual done so I could make the bus at 89th and 5th by 4:30am. I arrived, before dawn, at MacNeill Park in College Point, Queens around 5:30am. The park was already strewn with runners stretching, sleeping, or reading by the light of the streetlights. The race started at 7, quite humid but overcast. The start was pretty congested and I couldn't really get going until after the second mile. Lots of hills and turns on this course. And, WOW, there are some VERY impressive houses in Queens....like, MANSIONS. In Queens!!! Who'd a thunk it?
I felt great up until somewhere between mile 10 and 11. Then, bad things started to happen. My legs felt great, but I just felt exhausted, low energy. The powergels and gatorade weren't helping, in fact I think I was feeling weighed down by it all.
I had set 2:15 as my goal, but I felt so good, I had been actually shooting for 2 hrs. After 10 miles, I resigned myself to the fact that I wasn't going to break 2 hrs today. Too hot. So I took a couple of walking/stretching breaks. I finished hard and then stopped too soon. There was a water spray at the finish, which was nice. But, when I actually stopped, I got very dizzy and grabbed a tree for support. I was ushered into the medical tent (my first time!!!) where they got my feet elevated and gave me a salt packet (gross). I was fine after a few minutes, no nausea or anything. Shaky legs for a few minutes, that's all. A French toast bagel (ooooo!!) and an apple from the volunteers before I went to pick up my bag. I was grateful for the change of clothes and the bus back to within 5 blocks of my apartment.
Queens was fun, even though it was far from my best. I'm glad it's over, though.
One more race in NYC this year. When I finish the Staten Island, I will have completed my requirements for guaranteed entry into the NY Marathon 2009. Then it's on to the Philadelphia Marathon.
Racing miles to date: 71.4
Next race: Staten Island Half-Marathon 10/14/08
Monday, September 15, 2008
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Prepping for Philly!!!
So, the plan has changed and I'm now registered for the Philadelphia Marathon on Nov 23. I decided to follow through on my "100 miles" commitment despite not getting into the NIKE Half. That meant I needed to add a long race. My parents and sister live just outside Philly so I can wrap up the running season and tack on the Thanksgiving family-time in the same week.
SO, I've got the Queens Half on Sept 14, the Shaolin :) on Oct 12 and the Philly Full Mary on Nov 23.
Training is on schedule, clicking right along. I haven't raced since the Brooklyn Half and I'm pretty anxious for that "race weekend" feeling, especially after the Olympics hoopla.
To remember: stretch, water, shoulders/elbows back and down, consistent pace.
See you in Queens!!!
Running miles to date: 58.3
Next race: Queens Half-Marathon 9/14/08
SO, I've got the Queens Half on Sept 14, the Shaolin :) on Oct 12 and the Philly Full Mary on Nov 23.
Training is on schedule, clicking right along. I haven't raced since the Brooklyn Half and I'm pretty anxious for that "race weekend" feeling, especially after the Olympics hoopla.
To remember: stretch, water, shoulders/elbows back and down, consistent pace.
See you in Queens!!!
Running miles to date: 58.3
Next race: Queens Half-Marathon 9/14/08
Monday, July 28, 2008
Healthy Kidney 10K and Japan Day 4M
Ok, here's the thing.
I found out that I hadn't gotten into the NIKE Half-Marathon (lottery system) which totally bummed me out. It was the only race I ran last year except for the marathon and I loved it!! It was so much fun! But no such luck this year. So I've come up with an alternative plan. More on that later...
In my quest for guaranteed entry into the NY Marathon 2009, the omission of the NIKE Half-Marathon means I have to come up with a replacement race. I live two blocks from Central Park, so I figured I'd just knock out one of the races run there. Easy schmeezy.
The Healthy Kidney 10k was on May 17. Starting and ending right near Tavern on the Green on the west side, site of the NY Marathon finish. I took it easy since I wasn't really in running shape (slackin' off) and feeling a little groggy. 1:05:32. Just ran this like a lap around the park with a group.
Japan Day seemed almost imperative. I work for a Japanese company (Yamaha) and it's a four-mile race in my backyard. No brainer. There were taiko drummers at the start (which was at the entrance to the park near my apartment), women running in geisha outfits, lots of after-race food, which I didn't expect. This was a fun little race I'll do again. 36:12.
Yesterday, I went to cheer on the NIKE Half Marathon participants. I entered the park at 102nd st, so the runners coming towards me had just finished the gnarliest part of the race, the Harlem Hill. I was right at the 5 mile marker. There were only a couple of other people there. I got some good pics and felt like an injured athlete, cheering on his teammates in the big game, even though I'm fine, just couldn't get into the race.
Running miles to date: 58.3
Next race: Queens Half-Marathon 9/14/08
I found out that I hadn't gotten into the NIKE Half-Marathon (lottery system) which totally bummed me out. It was the only race I ran last year except for the marathon and I loved it!! It was so much fun! But no such luck this year. So I've come up with an alternative plan. More on that later...
In my quest for guaranteed entry into the NY Marathon 2009, the omission of the NIKE Half-Marathon means I have to come up with a replacement race. I live two blocks from Central Park, so I figured I'd just knock out one of the races run there. Easy schmeezy.
The Healthy Kidney 10k was on May 17. Starting and ending right near Tavern on the Green on the west side, site of the NY Marathon finish. I took it easy since I wasn't really in running shape (slackin' off) and feeling a little groggy. 1:05:32. Just ran this like a lap around the park with a group.
Japan Day seemed almost imperative. I work for a Japanese company (Yamaha) and it's a four-mile race in my backyard. No brainer. There were taiko drummers at the start (which was at the entrance to the park near my apartment), women running in geisha outfits, lots of after-race food, which I didn't expect. This was a fun little race I'll do again. 36:12.
Yesterday, I went to cheer on the NIKE Half Marathon participants. I entered the park at 102nd st, so the runners coming towards me had just finished the gnarliest part of the race, the Harlem Hill. I was right at the 5 mile marker. There were only a couple of other people there. I got some good pics and felt like an injured athlete, cheering on his teammates in the big game, even though I'm fine, just couldn't get into the race.
Running miles to date: 58.3
Next race: Queens Half-Marathon 9/14/08
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Brooklyn Half-Marathon May 3, 2008
Brooklyn Half-Marathon
May 3, 2008
1:53:58
I had two race free months to prep for this one, and I wanted to set a pr under 2 hours. I read up on the course and it looked like it would be very fast until the last couple of miles. It starts in Coney Island and ends in Prospect Park. Many of the online discussion boards described this one as their favorite and, so far, I agree. While the end WAS tough (HR peaked at 112%), I DESTROYED my goal and had fun doing it. I felt great afterward, if a little spent.
NYRR had yellow school buses to take people to the start, BUT you had to buy a ticket ($5) in advance. I went ahead and got one when I registered, just in case, and I was glad I did. The subway to Coney Island takes FOREVER and the bus tickets sold out weeks before the race. When I picked mine up, I was told to “guard it with my life.” Sure enough, there were people offering up to $20 on the morning of the race for bus tickets. Crazy.
Being on a yellow school bus made me feel like some kind of aging giant, young enough to remember my own bus rides to school but old (and tall) enough to be pretty uncomfortable.
We arrived at the Coney Island boardwalk about an hour before the start, so I went down to the beach to stretch and listen to the ipod until time to check the bag. I went through the pre-race routine, hit the bathroom, threw the bag onto the bus for the trip to the finish line, and took my place at the start.
NYRR is now doing color-coded starting corrals based on your estimated pace. If you’ve run NYRR races before, they use your fastest race over a mile to color-code you. I was in the pink corral which I took to be a little emasculating; all the more reason to pick up my pace in this race so I’m not pink for the next race.
The boardwalk was a little treacherous. I knew to be careful, but it was nerve-wracking to see people wipe out at the beginning of the race. I just tried to focus on my self and stay alert and out of people’s way. When we finally got on the road, Ocean Parkway, it was smooth running all the way to the park.
I was feeling great about my pace, but I knew that the real test hadn’t even started. I don’t know this park very well, so I realized that I didn’t know how many hills I was really supposed to anticipate. My lungs were burning through my chest and I ran with my arms up for a little while. I couldn’t stop and walk now or I was sure I’d miss my goal. The park just wouldn’t end. The last mile and a half was within the loop of the park we had just ran, and I was thinking, “Sheesh!! How much more could there be??!?!?”
When I saw the 13-mile marker, I looked at my watch and I could see I was going to beat my goal pretty easily, so I coasted in, high-fiving the spectators. 1:53:58
I got my bag and changed my shirt. Had a bagel and an apple from NYRR and Sue and Kit met me at the finish area. I had beat my goal by over 6 minutes and I knew I could do better with an easier finish.
Chocolate chip waffles and a well-earned nap.
2008 miles to date = 48.3Al Gordon Snowflake Run - Feb 23
Probably my easiest race because I slept through it. New York Road Runners decided that, due to icy conditions, that this race would be redesignated as a "fun run." This meant that it would be untimed but it would still count towards the 9 race minimum I needed to gain automatic entry to the NY Marathon 2009. SWEET!!! Of course, I could have still run it, but 4 miles at noon is better than 4 miles at 8am in February, so I slept in a ran later in the day.
COUNT IT!!!
2008 miles to date - 35.2
COUNT IT!!!
2008 miles to date - 35.2
Bronx Half-Marathon - Feb 10, 2008
Below is the story of the Bronx half marathon from Feb 10. I've become lazy at posting, so I'm going to post a bunch of things all at once now. Enjoy...
Feb 10, 2008
The Bronx Half Marathon (2:14:49)
It’s cold, wet but not raining, biting winds invite you to stay in bed instead of running 13.1 miles.
Alas, I am committed. I’m up. I’m running another half-marathon.
I’m wearing 2 shirts, a fleece pullover, a windbreaker, 2 pairs of underwear, running tights, and windproof pants. I brought 2 pairs of gloves, a head-n-neck warmer, skullcap, and ear warmies. I am prepared.
Today, we travel to the Bronx. The “Boogie-Down,” as it is known. Today, almost 4,000 runners have come to run through some of the least scenic parts of New York City. How many “unisex hair braiding and salon” businesses can you cram onto one thoroughfare?
Anyway, I was generously driven to the starting line by Loretta, a friend of Sue’s father. I figured a ride from a nun beats out the 4 train any day. And, hey, a nun…. I needed all the help I could get.
The race began easily enough. I’d taken it pretty easy this week since I’d just run a half marathon two weeks prior. Maybe I took it too easy.
Weird. I expected all the cars to be gone, “No Parking” on the day of the race, but this was not the case. Only the area around the start/finish line was carless.
I started out at the back of the pack, but still found myself running ahead of my pace. I started flagging around mile 8 again, same as last time. Low energy, high heart rate. I found myself walking a couple of times just to let my heart rate go down.
There was a headwind for two solid miles of Grand Concourse. That was the 8-10 mile area of the race. Reports indicate a 20 mph wind with gusts up to 29 mph. Rough…
This course had a lot of “doubling back,” so I was running the same roads more than once. Not the most scenic views of the Bronx, but at least I’ve seen parts of the city I’ve never seen, and that’s part of the adventure.
After the finish (2:14:49), I changed into some dry clothes and headed out.
The subway ride home was even a little adventure. I was seated and a woman asked me to slide over and make some room. No problem. But as she sat down, she CRUSHED my toes with her huge, fat feet. I winced and she apologized immediately. BUT, the douchebag she was with proceeded to yell at me because he though I was wincing at having to move over. She told him she had stepped on me and he shut up, WITHOUT APOLOGIZING TO ME. “Um, I just ran 13 miles, so it hurts when people step on my feet.” He acted like he didn’t even hear me, like I suddenly didn’t exist. Dick.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Manhattan Half-Marathon
Good morning to you, Manhattan Half-Marathon.
It is January 27, 2008. 30 degrees outside and I'm about to run 13.1 miles in Central Park.
Simply put, I do not feel up to it.
The morning greets me with a dull, thudding pain in my back. I'm trying to avoid taking ibuprofen by the handful like I did around the marathon. Sooooo, I've been waking up sore everyday, like... retired football player sore. This was not going to help.
The donning of appropriate winter running gear took place with apprehension.
2 pairs of underwear, windproof pants, heavy socks, moisture-wicking shirt, cotton t-shirt, fleece pull-over, windproof jacket, head/neck/face "gator," skullcap, wrap-around ear warmy, gloves, runnin' shoes.
This was to be my longest run since the marathon back in November.
I loaded up the iPod shuffle with a good playlist (Foo Fighters, Beck, NIN, Metallica, Primus).
The start was a short jog from my apartment, perfect warm-up distance.
The park was bumpin', y'all! Music, thousands of people including spectators with signs.
The horn goes off and I cross the start at 8:35am.
I felt great until about mile 8. The toughest hills were, by that point, out of the way. But my body began to rebel.
Rick's Body: What?!? Five more miles?!? Fuggedit, pal. I'm cold, wet and tired. Time to go home.
My fancy, moisture-wicking fabrics were simply wet rags at this point. I was getting colder and colder, which made me run faster, which made me sweat more, which made me colder.
Sue and Coach Parker met me at the finish. Well, what was left of me.
4996 finishers. I finished in 2:19:03.
Lesson of the race: Just because you ran a marathon a few months ago doesn't mean that a half-marathon in Central Park will be a piece of cake. It's still thirteen miles of hills.
I will: eat better, hydrate more regularly, stretch more regularly, get more sleep.
My pictures.
Next race: February 10 Bronx Half-Marathon
It is January 27, 2008. 30 degrees outside and I'm about to run 13.1 miles in Central Park.
Simply put, I do not feel up to it.
The morning greets me with a dull, thudding pain in my back. I'm trying to avoid taking ibuprofen by the handful like I did around the marathon. Sooooo, I've been waking up sore everyday, like... retired football player sore. This was not going to help.
The donning of appropriate winter running gear took place with apprehension.
2 pairs of underwear, windproof pants, heavy socks, moisture-wicking shirt, cotton t-shirt, fleece pull-over, windproof jacket, head/neck/face "gator," skullcap, wrap-around ear warmy, gloves, runnin' shoes.
This was to be my longest run since the marathon back in November.
I loaded up the iPod shuffle with a good playlist (Foo Fighters, Beck, NIN, Metallica, Primus).
The start was a short jog from my apartment, perfect warm-up distance.
The park was bumpin', y'all! Music, thousands of people including spectators with signs.
The horn goes off and I cross the start at 8:35am.
I felt great until about mile 8. The toughest hills were, by that point, out of the way. But my body began to rebel.
Rick's Body: What?!? Five more miles?!? Fuggedit, pal. I'm cold, wet and tired. Time to go home.
Rick's mind: I am a warrior. Too tough to kill.
Rick's Body: You're an idiot. Who do you think you are? No way can you do this.
Rick's mind: I am stronger than my body.
Rick's body: That doesn't even make sense. You're a babbling idiot trying to take your mind off the pain you're inflicting on yourself.
Rick's mind: Shut up...am not!
Rick's Body: Idiot.
My body was mad at me.
I actually questioned whether I would finish. I took a walk break, surrendering to my goal of 2:15. I'd be glad to finish under 2:30 at this point.
My fancy, moisture-wicking fabrics were simply wet rags at this point. I was getting colder and colder, which made me run faster, which made me sweat more, which made me colder.
Sue and Coach Parker met me at the finish. Well, what was left of me.
4996 finishers. I finished in 2:19:03.
Lesson of the race: Just because you ran a marathon a few months ago doesn't mean that a half-marathon in Central Park will be a piece of cake. It's still thirteen miles of hills.
I will: eat better, hydrate more regularly, stretch more regularly, get more sleep.
My pictures.
Can you feel it? I did.
2008 racing miles to date: 18.1
Next race: February 10 Bronx Half-Marathon
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
The Frank Lebow 5 Miler
On Saturday Jan 12, I ran the Frank Lebow 5 miler in Central Park.
This is the first race, the first five miles, of my year's fitness goal.
100 miles of racing in 2008.
Frank Lebow, in 1970, co-founded the New York City marathon. Then, it was just four loops around Central Park. Not the five borough extravaganza that it is today.
The race was fun. It started at 9 am, later than most races. We started in the park at around 99th st and ran counterclockwise. I finished in 44:07 which is 8:47/mile. Since I have a half-marathon scheduled in two weeks, I needed to do a long run this weekend. So, I ran another lap around the park, albeit a good deal slower. Ten miles total. A pretty good start to the weekend.
Not much to tell about the race itself....44 degrees, calm wind, 4419 finishers. Good crowd.
The quest has begun.
2008 racing miles to date: 5
This is the first race, the first five miles, of my year's fitness goal.
100 miles of racing in 2008.
Frank Lebow, in 1970, co-founded the New York City marathon. Then, it was just four loops around Central Park. Not the five borough extravaganza that it is today.
The race was fun. It started at 9 am, later than most races. We started in the park at around 99th st and ran counterclockwise. I finished in 44:07 which is 8:47/mile. Since I have a half-marathon scheduled in two weeks, I needed to do a long run this weekend. So, I ran another lap around the park, albeit a good deal slower. Ten miles total. A pretty good start to the weekend.
Not much to tell about the race itself....44 degrees, calm wind, 4419 finishers. Good crowd.
The quest has begun.
2008 racing miles to date: 5
My NY Marathon Story
Hi there-
Below, I have pasted my 2007 NY Marathon story.
4:46:48.
My official time in the 2007 New York City Marathon.
Which I ran.
2 days ago.
My legs are angry. I dread moving them. As long as I don’t move, I can almost forget about how much they hurt.
The pain aside, that was a hell of a lot of fun. Maybe my mind was wandering to take away the pain, but it felt like a crazy amusement park ride. Remember “Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride,” the FIRST time you rode it? Like that, except the whole thing lasted for about 12 hours and it tested every fiber of your being at the same time.
As our story opens, I awake at 4:50 am, unable to wait for my alarm to go off at 5:00 am. I go through my “long-run ritual” which had been tested and retested now through several long runs during training. I eat a bagel with peanut butter, drink two ice coffees, dress, listen to the Police and Foo Fighters on the iPod, do a final equipment check, take a picture, kiss the wife good-bye, and I’m off.
The subway ride to the southern tip of Manhattan to catch the Staten Island Ferry takes about 25 minutes. There are no express trains, everything running local. Lots of marathon runners with me. More and more runners board at each stop, all of us carrying our regulation clear plastic bags. By the time we reach Bowling Green, we are shoulder to shoulder, practically buzzing with anticipation.
The Staten Island Ferry Terminal is packed as well. All different languages, all different size people, all of us excited to get the journey to the start underway. When we finally board, I manage to snag a seat near the Staten Island side of the boat, hoping that I’ll be able to walk right onto a bus to take me to the start. Fat chance. More waiting in line at the Staten Island terminal for the bus to the starting area (although I do get a seat). I walk another ten minutes or so to my starting area where I lay out a poncho on the ground to stretch. It’s still two hours to the start, so I drink a little Gatorade, eat a protein bar, massage and ice my knees for the ordeal ahead.
What a great place for people watching! There are people like me; alone, stretching, sipping water or Gatorade, looking around nervously. There are groups, mostly women, chatting and laughing easily. There are mother/daughter teams, couples, and what look like entire choirs of foreigners. There is nowhere like this place right now.
Everyone’s talking about Ryan Shay, the runner who died in the Men’s Olympic Marathon Trials in Central Park the day before. We’re nervous, apprehensive. I meet a couple more marathon virgins. We lament how long the start is taking.
“Nothing we can do about it!”
Eventually, megaphone-people start telling us to line up. We start to see some runners crossing the bridge a few minutes after the gun goes off at 10:10 am. We’re still too far back to even see the start, but it means we’ve started, at least.
I reach the start line 30 minutes later, and I start my first marathon at 10:40 am.
Then something unexpected happens. I become a little sad. It occurs to me, just as I begin the race, that this is the beginning of the end. In five hours or so, nine months of training and anticipation will come to an end. It’s almost over. I’ve been thinking about it for nine months, and it’s almost over.
SHAKE IT OFF!!! The only way to enjoy this is to stay in the moment; enjoy each second of the next five hours as its own, unique experience that will never happen again. Even if I run this race again, it will never be like this.
Everyone around me is in great spirits. There are costumes, props, singing. I happen to be in a crowd heavily populated by Germans who seem to love the call-and-response type of singing. I’m already wondering how long that will last. Sheesh. Shut up already.
NO!!! I’m not going to be a jaded New Yorker today! I’m going to enjoy singing Germans and boisterous mariachi bands and ANYTHING else that happens today that would usually annoy the self-righteous crap out of me. Whoo-hooo!!!!!!
I’m feeling great at this point, running very easily at about 10 min/mile, a little faster than I thought I would, but anything slower feels like walking. It’s not too crowded and I can dictate my own pace.
Once I got onto Seventh Avenue in Brooklyn, the crowds picked up. These people were cheering like they were getting paid to do it. I was told to expect enthusiasm, but it was overwhelming! Fourth Avenue in Brooklyn was great. Here, one of my favorite moments of the day occurs. A black guy yells out, “Yeah, Rick, go ‘head, Rick!!”
I give the cursory “Thanks dude” wave and he says, to his friend, “Yeah, Rick, man, that’s my n----- right there.” I laughed out loud. Only in Brooklyn, and only today, would that happen. Thanks, black dude in Brooklyn. I AM your n-----.
I felt good going into Queens. I love the feeling of running through the city and not needing to know where I am. I could just run and follow the crowd. I remember “Larry the Lighthouse.” A guy WEARING A LIGHTHOUSE that says “Larry the Lighthouse” on it is running the NY Marathon. He elicits screams of “LAR-RY! LAR-RY! LAR-RY!” from some of the more intoxicated spectators. THAT’S friggin’ nuts!
When I got to the bridge to Manhattan, the Queensboro Bridge, I felt the first “message” from my legs. Nothing too loud or scary, but I was feeling it. The Queensboro Bridge is a mile long and void of spectators, silent except for runners’ footfalls and breathing. After two hours of crowds screaming your name, it was a nice break, but also a little eerie.
Manhattan. First Avenue. Whoop-whoop! I was told to expect a wall of cheering spectators. I was not disappointed. It was crowded all the way to Harlem, at least 3 deep with people on either side. Kristen had a peeled orange waiting for me at 74th st; fantastic.
By this point, I was getting used to people cheering for me by name…”Go Rick! You’re doing great!” If you ever run a marathon, I highly recommend putting your name on the front of your shirt. Then I heard, “GO CLAW!!!” What?!?! Only a Blue Man would call me that. There was Eric Rubbe on the west side of First Avenue, running alongside me on the sidewalk. How did he find me? That may have been the best surprise of the whole race.
The first of two scheduled family pit stops was at 102nd st and First Avenue. I fuel up with coconut water (great source of potassium) and liquid amino acids (muscle recovery) here and mineral ice for the knees. 18 miles down. Still cruising. Still smiling.
Then to the Bronx. The Boogie Down Bronx. I’ve only ever come to the Bronx for Yankees games. Knowing that the finish line is five miles from the point I leave the Bronx, I’m looking for a bridge the whole time. I remember a lot of music in the Bronx, and there was one guy holding a sign that read, “All the training miles.” I almost cried right there. Good one. I pointed at him and he pointed back. He knew.
Back into Manhattan for the “ride” home. Now, I KNEW that these upcoming miles would be the hardest. Duh. After the twenty mile mark, I was officially running farther than I had ever run in my life. I took a picture of myself crossing this, the LAST bridge of the race.
Once I reach Manhattan again, I’m running a route I’ve run a few times already. I’m now only blocks from my apartment, so the rest of the race is in my backyard. I stopped at about mile 21 to stretch and slap my legs a little. They felt like two-by-fours barely attached to my hips. Inflexible and heavy. I have another family pit stop at 100th st and Fifth Avenue, mile 23, but I don’t remember much. My stomach is sloshy from Gatorade and PowerGels. All I could think about was getting to the park. Then it would be almost over. I’d be home, in my backyard.
As I enter the park I can’t stop grinning. I quash the impulse to yell, deciding I might need the energy. Everything hurts, but the crowd is amazing, and I’m almost there. I’m running the end of the marathon just a few blocks from my apartment! There’s a huge banner stretched across the road, “Mile 24.” There’s almost no running left!
Here is where your hero is shown his own mortality by that most cruel god, Marathon. I’ve run this stretch of road countless times in training, but someone seems to have come in to the park and steepened all the hills! Brutal. Merciless. I had to stop on the last incline of the park because my hips were screaming. As much as I had wanted to get to the park all day, now I want out.
I exit the bottom of the park for the east-to-west run on 59th street. Kit is there….high-five….”You’re a rock star, dude!” I turn west on 59th and…holy crap…it’s uphill! Not steep, but long, and up all the way. I put my head down and grind it out.
I’ve now completed 26 miles. Right before the re-entrance to the park at Columbus Circle, there’s a uniformed police officer (probably not an officer, actually… he was older with the white dress shirt, like a captain or whatever) with a megaphone. Calling out every runner he sees, he’s yelling the whole time…
“This is for all those training runs when you had to go to bed at 9 or 10 instead of going out with your friends!!…this is for the people who rolled their eyes at you when you said you were going to run a marathon!!…this is for getting up before dawn today!!!...This is it!!...What do you have left?!!!...What do you have left!!!!”
I had a little bit left. I emptied the tank.
Coming back into the park, I literally had to push a guy out of my way to get around the corner at Columbus Circle. I remember signs like “400 meters to go” which meant nothing to me at that point. I had no idea how far that was. I was just looking for the lights of the finish line. I snapped a couple more pictures and then put the camera away for the final stretch. Enjoy it, look at the people, listen to the guy on the mic reading people’s shirts…”Hey, here comes Rick…Great job Rick!” I run/sprint/fly/coast/glide through the finish with my arms up, feeling great. I don’t know how, but I feel great.
Then I stopped running. I can’t believe I just did that! My legs were audibly buzzing. I can’t believe I just did that! A girl gives me a medal, I take her picture. I can’t believe I just did that!! Another guy offers to take my picture right there as well…sure! I get a baggie with a bagel, water, Gatorade, apple. THEN, the Heat Sheet, that foil blanket you see runners wearing after the race. Cool. I can’t believe I just did that! All the runners are herded towards the baggage claim area, whether you had checked a bag or not. Now, I had intentionally NOT checked a bag so I wouldn’t have to be in this line, but I was trapped by fencing and park rangers. Eventually, a guy in front of me broke through the fence and a bunch of us followed. I had a three mile walk back to the apartment in front of me, so no danger of an inadequate cool-down. I picked up another Heat Sheet for my legs and found my way across the park back home, still unable to believe that I just did that.
I was the only marathon finisher, at the time, walking across Central Park. There were lots of “Congratulations” from other runners as I walked home. One lady actually stopped me to take my picture. Funny.
Home, finally.
My fan base is waiting for me at the apartment…mom takes a few more pictures.
I had recorded the TV broadcast of the race, of course. We watch the beginning just to hear the Alec Baldwin voiceover intro. Very stirring.
Shower, stretch, ice packs, beer, pizza, beer, change ice packs, pasta, beer, cupcakes, beer.
I fall asleep with football on TV and ibuprofen in my bloodstream.
I ran the New York City Marathon.
Wow.
Below, I have pasted my 2007 NY Marathon story.
4:46:48.
My official time in the 2007 New York City Marathon.
Which I ran.
2 days ago.
My legs are angry. I dread moving them. As long as I don’t move, I can almost forget about how much they hurt.
The pain aside, that was a hell of a lot of fun. Maybe my mind was wandering to take away the pain, but it felt like a crazy amusement park ride. Remember “Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride,” the FIRST time you rode it? Like that, except the whole thing lasted for about 12 hours and it tested every fiber of your being at the same time.
As our story opens, I awake at 4:50 am, unable to wait for my alarm to go off at 5:00 am. I go through my “long-run ritual” which had been tested and retested now through several long runs during training. I eat a bagel with peanut butter, drink two ice coffees, dress, listen to the Police and Foo Fighters on the iPod, do a final equipment check, take a picture, kiss the wife good-bye, and I’m off.
The subway ride to the southern tip of Manhattan to catch the Staten Island Ferry takes about 25 minutes. There are no express trains, everything running local. Lots of marathon runners with me. More and more runners board at each stop, all of us carrying our regulation clear plastic bags. By the time we reach Bowling Green, we are shoulder to shoulder, practically buzzing with anticipation.
The Staten Island Ferry Terminal is packed as well. All different languages, all different size people, all of us excited to get the journey to the start underway. When we finally board, I manage to snag a seat near the Staten Island side of the boat, hoping that I’ll be able to walk right onto a bus to take me to the start. Fat chance. More waiting in line at the Staten Island terminal for the bus to the starting area (although I do get a seat). I walk another ten minutes or so to my starting area where I lay out a poncho on the ground to stretch. It’s still two hours to the start, so I drink a little Gatorade, eat a protein bar, massage and ice my knees for the ordeal ahead.
What a great place for people watching! There are people like me; alone, stretching, sipping water or Gatorade, looking around nervously. There are groups, mostly women, chatting and laughing easily. There are mother/daughter teams, couples, and what look like entire choirs of foreigners. There is nowhere like this place right now.
Everyone’s talking about Ryan Shay, the runner who died in the Men’s Olympic Marathon Trials in Central Park the day before. We’re nervous, apprehensive. I meet a couple more marathon virgins. We lament how long the start is taking.
“Nothing we can do about it!”
Eventually, megaphone-people start telling us to line up. We start to see some runners crossing the bridge a few minutes after the gun goes off at 10:10 am. We’re still too far back to even see the start, but it means we’ve started, at least.
I reach the start line 30 minutes later, and I start my first marathon at 10:40 am.
Then something unexpected happens. I become a little sad. It occurs to me, just as I begin the race, that this is the beginning of the end. In five hours or so, nine months of training and anticipation will come to an end. It’s almost over. I’ve been thinking about it for nine months, and it’s almost over.
SHAKE IT OFF!!! The only way to enjoy this is to stay in the moment; enjoy each second of the next five hours as its own, unique experience that will never happen again. Even if I run this race again, it will never be like this.
Everyone around me is in great spirits. There are costumes, props, singing. I happen to be in a crowd heavily populated by Germans who seem to love the call-and-response type of singing. I’m already wondering how long that will last. Sheesh. Shut up already.
NO!!! I’m not going to be a jaded New Yorker today! I’m going to enjoy singing Germans and boisterous mariachi bands and ANYTHING else that happens today that would usually annoy the self-righteous crap out of me. Whoo-hooo!!!!!!
I’m feeling great at this point, running very easily at about 10 min/mile, a little faster than I thought I would, but anything slower feels like walking. It’s not too crowded and I can dictate my own pace.
Once I got onto Seventh Avenue in Brooklyn, the crowds picked up. These people were cheering like they were getting paid to do it. I was told to expect enthusiasm, but it was overwhelming! Fourth Avenue in Brooklyn was great. Here, one of my favorite moments of the day occurs. A black guy yells out, “Yeah, Rick, go ‘head, Rick!!”
I give the cursory “Thanks dude” wave and he says, to his friend, “Yeah, Rick, man, that’s my n----- right there.” I laughed out loud. Only in Brooklyn, and only today, would that happen. Thanks, black dude in Brooklyn. I AM your n-----.
I felt good going into Queens. I love the feeling of running through the city and not needing to know where I am. I could just run and follow the crowd. I remember “Larry the Lighthouse.” A guy WEARING A LIGHTHOUSE that says “Larry the Lighthouse” on it is running the NY Marathon. He elicits screams of “LAR-RY! LAR-RY! LAR-RY!” from some of the more intoxicated spectators. THAT’S friggin’ nuts!
When I got to the bridge to Manhattan, the Queensboro Bridge, I felt the first “message” from my legs. Nothing too loud or scary, but I was feeling it. The Queensboro Bridge is a mile long and void of spectators, silent except for runners’ footfalls and breathing. After two hours of crowds screaming your name, it was a nice break, but also a little eerie.
Manhattan. First Avenue. Whoop-whoop! I was told to expect a wall of cheering spectators. I was not disappointed. It was crowded all the way to Harlem, at least 3 deep with people on either side. Kristen had a peeled orange waiting for me at 74th st; fantastic.
By this point, I was getting used to people cheering for me by name…”Go Rick! You’re doing great!” If you ever run a marathon, I highly recommend putting your name on the front of your shirt. Then I heard, “GO CLAW!!!” What?!?! Only a Blue Man would call me that. There was Eric Rubbe on the west side of First Avenue, running alongside me on the sidewalk. How did he find me? That may have been the best surprise of the whole race.
The first of two scheduled family pit stops was at 102nd st and First Avenue. I fuel up with coconut water (great source of potassium) and liquid amino acids (muscle recovery) here and mineral ice for the knees. 18 miles down. Still cruising. Still smiling.
Then to the Bronx. The Boogie Down Bronx. I’ve only ever come to the Bronx for Yankees games. Knowing that the finish line is five miles from the point I leave the Bronx, I’m looking for a bridge the whole time. I remember a lot of music in the Bronx, and there was one guy holding a sign that read, “All the training miles.” I almost cried right there. Good one. I pointed at him and he pointed back. He knew.
Back into Manhattan for the “ride” home. Now, I KNEW that these upcoming miles would be the hardest. Duh. After the twenty mile mark, I was officially running farther than I had ever run in my life. I took a picture of myself crossing this, the LAST bridge of the race.
Once I reach Manhattan again, I’m running a route I’ve run a few times already. I’m now only blocks from my apartment, so the rest of the race is in my backyard. I stopped at about mile 21 to stretch and slap my legs a little. They felt like two-by-fours barely attached to my hips. Inflexible and heavy. I have another family pit stop at 100th st and Fifth Avenue, mile 23, but I don’t remember much. My stomach is sloshy from Gatorade and PowerGels. All I could think about was getting to the park. Then it would be almost over. I’d be home, in my backyard.
As I enter the park I can’t stop grinning. I quash the impulse to yell, deciding I might need the energy. Everything hurts, but the crowd is amazing, and I’m almost there. I’m running the end of the marathon just a few blocks from my apartment! There’s a huge banner stretched across the road, “Mile 24.” There’s almost no running left!
Here is where your hero is shown his own mortality by that most cruel god, Marathon. I’ve run this stretch of road countless times in training, but someone seems to have come in to the park and steepened all the hills! Brutal. Merciless. I had to stop on the last incline of the park because my hips were screaming. As much as I had wanted to get to the park all day, now I want out.
I exit the bottom of the park for the east-to-west run on 59th street. Kit is there….high-five….”You’re a rock star, dude!” I turn west on 59th and…holy crap…it’s uphill! Not steep, but long, and up all the way. I put my head down and grind it out.
I’ve now completed 26 miles. Right before the re-entrance to the park at Columbus Circle, there’s a uniformed police officer (probably not an officer, actually… he was older with the white dress shirt, like a captain or whatever) with a megaphone. Calling out every runner he sees, he’s yelling the whole time…
“This is for all those training runs when you had to go to bed at 9 or 10 instead of going out with your friends!!…this is for the people who rolled their eyes at you when you said you were going to run a marathon!!…this is for getting up before dawn today!!!...This is it!!...What do you have left?!!!...What do you have left!!!!”
I had a little bit left. I emptied the tank.
Coming back into the park, I literally had to push a guy out of my way to get around the corner at Columbus Circle. I remember signs like “400 meters to go” which meant nothing to me at that point. I had no idea how far that was. I was just looking for the lights of the finish line. I snapped a couple more pictures and then put the camera away for the final stretch. Enjoy it, look at the people, listen to the guy on the mic reading people’s shirts…”Hey, here comes Rick…Great job Rick!” I run/sprint/fly/coast/glide through the finish with my arms up, feeling great. I don’t know how, but I feel great.
Then I stopped running. I can’t believe I just did that! My legs were audibly buzzing. I can’t believe I just did that! A girl gives me a medal, I take her picture. I can’t believe I just did that!! Another guy offers to take my picture right there as well…sure! I get a baggie with a bagel, water, Gatorade, apple. THEN, the Heat Sheet, that foil blanket you see runners wearing after the race. Cool. I can’t believe I just did that! All the runners are herded towards the baggage claim area, whether you had checked a bag or not. Now, I had intentionally NOT checked a bag so I wouldn’t have to be in this line, but I was trapped by fencing and park rangers. Eventually, a guy in front of me broke through the fence and a bunch of us followed. I had a three mile walk back to the apartment in front of me, so no danger of an inadequate cool-down. I picked up another Heat Sheet for my legs and found my way across the park back home, still unable to believe that I just did that.
I was the only marathon finisher, at the time, walking across Central Park. There were lots of “Congratulations” from other runners as I walked home. One lady actually stopped me to take my picture. Funny.
Home, finally.
My fan base is waiting for me at the apartment…mom takes a few more pictures.
I had recorded the TV broadcast of the race, of course. We watch the beginning just to hear the Alec Baldwin voiceover intro. Very stirring.
Shower, stretch, ice packs, beer, pizza, beer, change ice packs, pasta, beer, cupcakes, beer.
I fall asleep with football on TV and ibuprofen in my bloodstream.
I ran the New York City Marathon.
Wow.
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