I ran the New York City Marathon last weekend, and
absolutely loved it. It will be a
highlight of my year, as far as running goes.
As a teenager, back in the 1980s, I watched the New York
City Marathon one November Sunday morning on television. I followed running closely then, as a high
school runner and reader of Runner’s World.
I knew all the high performers.
The drama that year was whether Rod Dixon, a 10k specialist from New
Zealand, could step up to the marathon distance. Geoff Smith of England held the lead, in the
rain, for many miles, and looked to have the race in hand. However, Dixon closed the gap over the final
miles, and took the lead in the last half mile, with the announcers calling it
like a horse race. It was a great thing
to watch live, and I remember clearly thinking that day that I would run a
marathon some day.
Running a marathon seemed a huge thing back then. I registered for the Marine Corps Marathon in high school, but had to bail because of shin splints. I was running track and cross-country then,
and putting in lots of miles, as a teenager might do. It wasn’t until much later, in 1997, that I
actually finally went and took the distance on in Vancouver.
All these years, I continue to watch this race when I can,
and follow with interest. So, to finally
have a chance to run the course, which travels through all five boroughs (Staten Island, Brooklyn, Queens, The Bronx, and Manhattan), was absolutely a bucket list
item for me. There's only one New York.
And only in New York does getting to a start line become as much a production as running the race itself. I got out the door at 6:30 AM, and took the subway down from Lincoln Center to Battery Park and the Staten Island Ferry, coffee in hand, wearing disposable sweats. After a bit of a wait for my ferry, I enjoyed views of the Statue of Liberty from the water, along with a bagel, and hundreds of other runners. Another wait on Staten Island to catch a shuttle bus to Fort Wadsworth, which is the starting line. I finally arrived at 10:30 AM, right before my start time at 11:00 AM.
The race starts by going over the Verrazano Bridge, which
seemed to be nearly two miles. Police
and media helicopters are above, and it is just swarms of people. These days, everyone is stopping for a selfie
on the bridge. Once across the bridge,
you enter Brooklyn, where crowds await, with signs to cheer runners on. The next 10 or 11 miles are up through Brooklyn,
by restaurants, brownstones, gas stations, street art—all the sights of
Brooklyn. It feels like a parade, with
streams of runners, and the streets lined with cheering families and
bystanders.
I met my AC, Dave, and Deb right after leaving Brooklyn over
59th Street. This was
extremely special to me, and we were fortunate to find each other in the
crowds. Cell phones help, I guess. After that, I started getting a really bad
cramp in my lower abdominal region, and I couldn’t run. The last ten miles were a struggle of walking
and running, but the crowds and positive vibes were steady, and I was fine with
it. The slog up through Manhattan and
Queens was tough, but somewhere around the Bronx I seemed to be able to shuffle
again, though the feet hurt.
The excitement seemed to pick up all the more once back in
Manhattan. My fastest mile was my last,
though it wasn’t all that fast. The
finish line is marked with the flags of the many, many nations, represented by
runners. Banners hang from the light
poles, honoring past winners who’s names are well known to me—Joanie, Bill
Rodgers, Dixon, Grete, Tergat, Radcliffe, and so on.
The Finish Line is a production. You get the medal, and then they give you a
bag of recovery items (drinks, apple, protein bar), and then you shuffle for
almost a half hour to get a very nice poncho.
Finally, my feet ready to revolt, I found my sweetie in the family
reunion area. For many personal reasons,
this was the very best part of the whole event, as we weren’t sure she could
make this trip.
The rest of the weekend was filled with great moments. We went to the Lion King—our first show on
Broadway—with my AC, who is high school choregrapher. Fine eats, including bagels, pizza, pasta at
Joe Allen, and so on. A visit to the
Museum of Modern Art, to see Van Gogh, Picasso, Rothko, Warhol and others—an amazing
place that deserved more time.
Loved the race, and loved being able to do this with my wife
and family. A very special weekend.
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