The Lizard That Ate Manhattan

the five boroughs

New York City Marathon
November 1, 2009
Finish Time: 2:54:16
Rankings: 572/43571 OA 109/4922 AG 293/19883 USA Finishers
Pre-Race Nutrition: 2 packages Maple & Brown Sugar Quaker Instant Oatmeal, 12 oz coffee, 1 banana, 1 plain bagel, 8 oz Gatorade, 16 oz water
On Course: Water, Gatorade Endurance, Vanilla Gu at miles 6, 12, 18, and 22
Post-Race: 1 vanilla Gu, 3oz Emerald Nuts almonds, 1/2 chicken curry salad sandwich, 1/2 turkey sandwich
Post-Race part 2: Pint Beck's Octoberfest, Way too much salad and pasta at Carmine's on the Upper East Side

My "bumper sticker" courtesy of Raquel

Pre-Game: Alarm buzzed me awake at 3:30. Thank goodness that I remembered the time change and both alarms worked as expected. I grabbed my pilfered oatmeal packets from the previous day's breakfast and headed to the lobby for some hot water and coffee. The attendant was just starting to get things setup, so I had to wait a few minutes. He let me know that I could get full breakfast an hour early (at 5am) today. I told him thanks, but I have to catch a subway train at 5:15 to make the 6am ferry to Staten Island. Back to the room to eat, and obsess over the weather. I had packed for every possible condition the night before and it looked like I would need all of it. Rain was falling now, but was expected to lighten and maybe quit before the start of the race. So, off to the 1 train wearing my planned race gear, a pair of nylon track pants and fleece sweatshirt from Goodwill and a bag of extra shoes, socks, arm warmers, gloves, running vest and more. A sherpa would have been nice. On the subway ride, I was reminded that I certainly come from Polish stock. At the second stop, two runners from Poland got on and I swear that the older one was my dad from about 25 years ago. It was a little freaky.

At the end of the line, we arrived at the ferry dock and were funneled like cattle to the slaughter and onto the boat. The ride itself was full of nervous energy. I grabbed a spot on the floor near a window and was treated to a nice view of the Manhattan skyline and the Statue of Liberty aglow in the predawn darkness. Finally we arrived on Staten Island and boarded the busses that would carry us to the start villages. Once at the blue village, I grabbed one of the few remaining spots under the tent and out of the rain. Only 3.5 hours to kill until the start.

After spending time conversing with the english speaking runners nearby including a guy from Seattle in a Chelanman hat (small world) and checking out the food area I began to go a bit stir crazy. There were still 2 hours until the gun but I decided to get into my race shoes and socks and to figure out what gear I would leave behind on the UPS truck. I started to mentally get into "race mode" and the nerves subsided. A short while later I ran into Steve from my running club and we hung out together in our corral until it was time to enter the bridge.

Steve and me in the corral before the start

The Race: I really expected the Howitzer to be louder, but Sinatra did not disappoint. The first mile is entirely uphill as we climb the Verrazano Bridge into Brooklyn. Somehow, despite being in the first wave and less than a minute behind Meb at this point, I found myself having to weave around 60 somethings running about 10:00/mile pace. I can only assume these were ING sponsored VIPs. First mile ended up 10 seconds faster than planned. No problem just relax and cruise on downhill. Oops, now I'm 20 seconds ahead of my planned easy start. At the 5K mark, I found myself 30 seconds ahead of plan. Dammit! Slow down!

By now we've moved into the neighborhoods of Brooklyn. The crowds are a little quieter than I expected, but most of the neighbors are probably still hung over from Halloween night. Mile 4, right on pace and feeing very good. These are the miles to settle into a groove and enjoy the ride. By the 10K mark, I was almost exactly on goal pace. Soon we turned onto a road lined with brownstones and full of boisterous crowds and loud music blaring from speakers the size of a city bus. This is friggin' awesome.

Perhaps the hardest adjustment that I had to make was managing the aid stations. In most races I've done, there are aid stations every 2-3 miles and I know to take fluids at every stop, even if only a sip. In NY, there are aid stations every mile. In 50 degree weather, I certainly didn't need water every mile. After a while, I had no idea whether it had been 1 mile or 3 since my last cup of fluids. And did I grab Gatorade or water last time? I almost missed taking my Gu at mile 6 because I wasn't really keeping track of where I was on the course.

Near the halfway mark. Brooklyn gives way to Queens and my thoughts start drifting towards the second big climb of the day up the Queensboro Bridge. This is the loneliest part of the course. There are no spectators, the packs of runners have thinned compared to the start. Also, since we run along the lower deck of the bridge, there is a bit of a boxed in feel.

The “tunnel” on the Queensboro Bridge. Not for the claustrophobic

Soon I could see the top of the bridge and began to relax in anticipation of the downhill recovery to come. Unfortunately, the Queensboro is flat in the middle and now I would have to wait about 3/4 of a mile to get my downhill slope. The first doubts started to creep in as I realized that the final 10 miles of this run would be much more difficult than the miles I had already covered. As we started the descent, and heard to first roar of the First Avenue crowds, the runner next to me exclaimed how he loved this part of the race. "Dont pull a Ramala." I told him. Hendrick Ramaala is famous for running the first mile off the bridge stupid fast.

The men's lead pack coming off the Queensboro Bridge (I am not with them)

I think I heard my name…maybe

I pulled a Ramaala....6:06 for this mile, a full 24 seconds ahead of my goal pace. First Avenue was everything that I'd heard it would be. There were no Halloween hangovers here, just a city's worth of screaming spectators every bit as excited to see us as they had been to see the leaders before us. The next 4 miles are a cacophony of noise and energy. Powerbar had a special aid station here. Anyone whose energy was feeling low enough to need a Powerbar here is missing the point of running NY. This is what the race is all about. Unfortunately, First Avenue leads inevitably to the Bronx.

And so the life was sucked from my body. Damn Yankees.......The bridge leading to the Bronx is not nearly as high as those that have come before. This bridge however delivers its own brand of punishment. The bridge surface is open steel grating. The race organizers put a lovely goldenrod colored carpet over the grating but I still felt every sharp surface through my shoes. It was like running over a cheese grater, especially after 20 miles. The crowds here were much smaller than along First Avenue, pretty much on par with Brooklyn and Queens. However, the letdown was huge, and I soon began to feel myself slowing down. By mile 21, I walked the aid station both to get a good drink and to give myself a break. This would be the theme for the next few miles. Run as hard as I can for a mile. Walk the aid station. I took my final Gu at mile 22, about a mile earlier than planned since I really needed the boost.

At mile 24, I decided that I wouldn't walk anymore. I only had 15 more minutes of running to go and was starting to feel the boost from the Gu. Mentally, I needed to keep running even if I slowed to my usual recovery run pace. Fortunately, as the course enters Central Park there is a slight downhill that allowed me to pick up some momentum and get back to my goal race pace. From there, the crowds carried me. My field of vision had narrowed to the point where I almost ran into a few other runners that were walking and looking defeated. Somehow, my body kept on with the LRR movement towards the finish.

Mile 25. Are we there yet??

There is a long straight uphill stretch along Central Park South before the final turn to the finish line. I tried not to focus on the distance to go and simply keep an eye out for the runners I was now cruising past.

Now comes the part we’ve seen on TV....I knew these final turns, rises, and dips thanks to years of watching TV coverage of NYCM. The banners announcing the final yards and meters also helped to make this section feel blazing fast. The finish line was now in sight. I knew that I would miss a PR, but dammit I can still beat the 2:55:00 mark on the clock. Arms raised in triumph as I crossed the line. Even a faulty chip wouldn't keep me from hitting the qualifying time to come back to NY again. (My chip worked, but I didn’t want to take any chances)

Post-Race: Nobody talks about the cruel joke that is mile 27 of the NYC marathon. In order to keep the sea of humanity moving forward, NY makes the higher seeded runners walk the farthest after the race in order to retrieve our bags. The walk for those numbered 8000 and lower was at least a mile. I picked up my medal and a space blanket along with a bag of "food". Don't race NY for the finish line buffet. My bag had a bottle of water (GOOD), a shrink wrapped bagel (WTF?! This is the bagel capital of the world),an apple (cute, but not what I wanted right then) and a bag of almonds. My legs began to cramp and I knew that I needed salt. I had already eaten a finish line Gu in lieu of food and now needed the almonds. They tasted awful at that point, but they represented the only salt delivery mechanism available. Eventually, my body stabilized and I reached the exit to head back to the hotel. Happy to be done. My string of marathon PRs snapped but proud of my accomplishment.

Don’t run NY for the schwag….They were sold out of jackets at the expo by Friday and by Saturday the pickings were mighty slim for a guy who wears a small. Don’t run NY for the medal. It’s a nice weight, but I expected something fancier, especially since this was the 40th anniversary of the race. Don’t run NY for the food at the finish. I spoke of it earlier and it really is mediocre.

Do run NY because it is the most amazing experience you will ever have as a runner. The organizers do an incredible job managing to get 44,000 runners onto Staten Island for the start. The crowds are twice as big as Boston and, aside from the bridges and the mile through the Hasidic Jewish neighborhood in Brooklyn, there are no dead zones. Over most of the course, there are no barriers between the crowds and the runners. The police do an excellent job of keeping the roadways clear, but at times I understood how rider on the TdF must feel going up the mountains.

I’m not sure when I will run NY again, but I will. Traveling across three time zones and an entire continent isn’t easy. Nothing in NYC is cheap. Waking up 6 hours before the race begins kind of sucks. All of that fades away once you arrive at Fort Wadsworth and the starting village. If you can’t hit the qualifying times (which are tougher than Boston’s) then get your name into the lottery now. You will never regret running the NYCM.

For the numbers geeks