11/7/04 - Sunday
Sunday – RACE DAY! Sunny, mid 60’s, perfect! 26.2 miles.
So 4 months of training come down to this one day. It’s been over a week since I ran, which has given me time to reflect a bit. The day started out great, woke up had some breakfast, left the house at 5:30am to head to the Meadowlands to catch the bus to Fort Wadsworth on Staten Island (runners village). Karen drove and Opus accompanied me to the bus stop. I arrived at the fort about 7:15 and had to walk about a mile just to get to the entrance gate. I stopped off at one of the many port-a-potties along the way. My color for the start was Orange, the UPS trucks for orange were conveniently next to the entrance, and the area for me to hang out in was not, had to walk a bit more. I met Jerome up near his Blue start area. The place was a complete cluster fuck of runners, 37,000 of them. It was a beautiful morning; in the sun it was very comfortable. We hung out on the grass and got some bagels, water, yogurt and power bars that were available to all the runners. We both packed our things and brought them to our respective UPS trucks. We then waited in the Orange start area. Basically with the long lines for the port a potties people began urinating any where. The Army reserve building behind me was a popular bush watering area. A few moments later while looking around I got to see some strangers vagina as she was pulling up her pants after squatting, it’s just not something you get to see everyday. Moments later we lined up... it was a half hour before the cannon would go off. Finally the cannon boomed and slowly we started moving, as we got closer to the exit I noticed no lines to the potties and I scurried into one knowing that if I went now I would not have to go again during the race. Surprisingly I had no nerves, I just wanted to run... I crossed over the start line my chip beeped and away I went straight up hill on the Varrazano Bridge. The views on this crystal clear day were amazing: the Atlantic to my right and Manhattan Island to my left... and a hoard of bobbing heads both in front and behind. Another surprise was the amount of room I had in front and behind. It always looked on TV like you had no room to move... not true! I had at least 10 feet on all sides. Leaving the bridge and into Brooklyn I got my first glimpse of spectators about 20 of them. Still it was cool to have people clapping and cheering for you. The crowds increased, rock bands were playing people would give you hi fives feeling fresh you are really able to enjoy the crowds. My stock happened to be high with the Brooklyn girls as I got some nice comments (my name was pinned to my shirt so I knew they were talking about me). Around the 4 mile mark I broke away from Jerome since he said he was not feeling great and that I should go ahead. The miles clicked away fairly quickly, before I knew it the first 10K was done. I was drinking something at every mile station (amazing how many cups are on the ground). At the 8 mile mark the 3 color starts merged into one big hoard, it was around this time that my Achilles started barking. Around mile 9 I ran with a red sox fan, we chatted baseball and the election and then lost each other at a water station. There was a lot of slight inclines for long stretches, I noticed that my right leg felt kind of heavy... didn’t pay it much mind. Mile 13 marked the end of my time in Brooklyn, I started crossing the Pulaski Bridge, then my left foot fell into an expansion joint, twisting my ankle slightly and jamming my big toe, I did not fall! Approaching the Quensborough Bridge is a big sign up on the trestle stating 11.2 mile to go, I thought this was great, time had gone by so fast I felt great. Now the Q’boro bridge is like a 10% grade, most were walking, I kept a slow jog going, again the right leg felt heavy.. I found out this was the prelude to the worst cramp I have ever had. Somewhere between 15 and 16 miles I had to stop dead for it felt like the muscle was going to rip off the bone. I stopped and stretched in the first aid area on the bridge... people in there were far worse than me and I did not feel that I should complain. Hoping to run thru this I went back out on the course and cramped some more going down hill and onto 1st Ave in Manhattan. Oh yeah even thru the pain Manhattan looked amazing when on the bridge. Well pain continued to follow me thru Harlem and into my birth place of the Bronx. Side note...I wanted to kill a non-runner woman round about mile 19, she crossed the street right in front of me causing me to put on the brakes and feel more pain... I proceeded to verbally accost her and then went on. I walked the Willis Ave bridge in hopes that stretching and walking for a bit might enable me to run more than a quarter of a mile at a time with out stopping… all hopes were dashed as I continued to have problems with 10K left to go at this point any hope for finishing under 5 hours were long gone.. The Bronx was a little light on the people but it was only one mile in that borough. Back into Manhattan and up 5th Ave. It was a slow go, the people in Harlem were great enthusiastic although there weren’t as many peeps. The battle with my leg continued, I also became more aware of the pain in my Achilles every step was struggle but the miles continued to click by... 5th Ave. is a continuous upward grade, I swear I thought it would never end… the crowds got denser as I approached Central park... people screaming and encouraging, it was rather amazing. Happily the hill crested and into the park with about 4 miles to go. At mile 24 I took a drink, had a good stretch and prayed I would be able to sustain some running thru the park to the finish. My prayers for the most part were answered, although every step was painful, the cramp was no longer tightening up to stop me… I ran the last 2 miles at a 9:00/mile pace… the crowds were now deafening... running past the Plaza and then turning to the straightaway that leads to the finish, I was still running.. I just didn’t want to cramp, fall or throw up in front of the grandstand. I ran right by Karen and although I was looking for her… for some reason I missed her. I did what felt like a sprint to the finish… 4 months of hard work produced a 5:11:36... not what I wanted but there I was standing under the finish clock of the NYC Marathon, one of only 36,000+ finishers in 2004. I was both disappointed but proud that I ran thru the pain and completed something I had never done before... I ran 26.2 miles.
They continue to shuffle you thru the finish; you get your finisher medal, a picture taken and Mylar blanket. You then shuffle along some more with the thousands of other people to your UPS truck to get your things and then leave the park. I found Karen a few minutes later and got a hug and a kiss from the person for with out her support I would have never done this.Last side note: One hour after completing the marathon I proclaimed (ok, I said) I would run this again... and bonus, I saw Abe Vigoda eating a bagel, you might remember him from 70’s show such as Barney Miller, and Fish or movies like Joe vs. the Volcano where his career defining moment as the chief of the Wopani Woos
So 4 months of training come down to this one day. It’s been over a week since I ran, which has given me time to reflect a bit. The day started out great, woke up had some breakfast, left the house at 5:30am to head to the Meadowlands to catch the bus to Fort Wadsworth on Staten Island (runners village). Karen drove and Opus accompanied me to the bus stop. I arrived at the fort about 7:15 and had to walk about a mile just to get to the entrance gate. I stopped off at one of the many port-a-potties along the way. My color for the start was Orange, the UPS trucks for orange were conveniently next to the entrance, and the area for me to hang out in was not, had to walk a bit more. I met Jerome up near his Blue start area. The place was a complete cluster fuck of runners, 37,000 of them. It was a beautiful morning; in the sun it was very comfortable. We hung out on the grass and got some bagels, water, yogurt and power bars that were available to all the runners. We both packed our things and brought them to our respective UPS trucks. We then waited in the Orange start area. Basically with the long lines for the port a potties people began urinating any where. The Army reserve building behind me was a popular bush watering area. A few moments later while looking around I got to see some strangers vagina as she was pulling up her pants after squatting, it’s just not something you get to see everyday. Moments later we lined up... it was a half hour before the cannon would go off. Finally the cannon boomed and slowly we started moving, as we got closer to the exit I noticed no lines to the potties and I scurried into one knowing that if I went now I would not have to go again during the race. Surprisingly I had no nerves, I just wanted to run... I crossed over the start line my chip beeped and away I went straight up hill on the Varrazano Bridge. The views on this crystal clear day were amazing: the Atlantic to my right and Manhattan Island to my left... and a hoard of bobbing heads both in front and behind. Another surprise was the amount of room I had in front and behind. It always looked on TV like you had no room to move... not true! I had at least 10 feet on all sides. Leaving the bridge and into Brooklyn I got my first glimpse of spectators about 20 of them. Still it was cool to have people clapping and cheering for you. The crowds increased, rock bands were playing people would give you hi fives feeling fresh you are really able to enjoy the crowds. My stock happened to be high with the Brooklyn girls as I got some nice comments (my name was pinned to my shirt so I knew they were talking about me). Around the 4 mile mark I broke away from Jerome since he said he was not feeling great and that I should go ahead. The miles clicked away fairly quickly, before I knew it the first 10K was done. I was drinking something at every mile station (amazing how many cups are on the ground). At the 8 mile mark the 3 color starts merged into one big hoard, it was around this time that my Achilles started barking. Around mile 9 I ran with a red sox fan, we chatted baseball and the election and then lost each other at a water station. There was a lot of slight inclines for long stretches, I noticed that my right leg felt kind of heavy... didn’t pay it much mind. Mile 13 marked the end of my time in Brooklyn, I started crossing the Pulaski Bridge, then my left foot fell into an expansion joint, twisting my ankle slightly and jamming my big toe, I did not fall! Approaching the Quensborough Bridge is a big sign up on the trestle stating 11.2 mile to go, I thought this was great, time had gone by so fast I felt great. Now the Q’boro bridge is like a 10% grade, most were walking, I kept a slow jog going, again the right leg felt heavy.. I found out this was the prelude to the worst cramp I have ever had. Somewhere between 15 and 16 miles I had to stop dead for it felt like the muscle was going to rip off the bone. I stopped and stretched in the first aid area on the bridge... people in there were far worse than me and I did not feel that I should complain. Hoping to run thru this I went back out on the course and cramped some more going down hill and onto 1st Ave in Manhattan. Oh yeah even thru the pain Manhattan looked amazing when on the bridge. Well pain continued to follow me thru Harlem and into my birth place of the Bronx. Side note...I wanted to kill a non-runner woman round about mile 19, she crossed the street right in front of me causing me to put on the brakes and feel more pain... I proceeded to verbally accost her and then went on. I walked the Willis Ave bridge in hopes that stretching and walking for a bit might enable me to run more than a quarter of a mile at a time with out stopping… all hopes were dashed as I continued to have problems with 10K left to go at this point any hope for finishing under 5 hours were long gone.. The Bronx was a little light on the people but it was only one mile in that borough. Back into Manhattan and up 5th Ave. It was a slow go, the people in Harlem were great enthusiastic although there weren’t as many peeps. The battle with my leg continued, I also became more aware of the pain in my Achilles every step was struggle but the miles continued to click by... 5th Ave. is a continuous upward grade, I swear I thought it would never end… the crowds got denser as I approached Central park... people screaming and encouraging, it was rather amazing. Happily the hill crested and into the park with about 4 miles to go. At mile 24 I took a drink, had a good stretch and prayed I would be able to sustain some running thru the park to the finish. My prayers for the most part were answered, although every step was painful, the cramp was no longer tightening up to stop me… I ran the last 2 miles at a 9:00/mile pace… the crowds were now deafening... running past the Plaza and then turning to the straightaway that leads to the finish, I was still running.. I just didn’t want to cramp, fall or throw up in front of the grandstand. I ran right by Karen and although I was looking for her… for some reason I missed her. I did what felt like a sprint to the finish… 4 months of hard work produced a 5:11:36... not what I wanted but there I was standing under the finish clock of the NYC Marathon, one of only 36,000+ finishers in 2004. I was both disappointed but proud that I ran thru the pain and completed something I had never done before... I ran 26.2 miles.
They continue to shuffle you thru the finish; you get your finisher medal, a picture taken and Mylar blanket. You then shuffle along some more with the thousands of other people to your UPS truck to get your things and then leave the park. I found Karen a few minutes later and got a hug and a kiss from the person for with out her support I would have never done this.Last side note: One hour after completing the marathon I proclaimed (ok, I said) I would run this again... and bonus, I saw Abe Vigoda eating a bagel, you might remember him from 70’s show such as Barney Miller, and Fish or movies like Joe vs. the Volcano where his career defining moment as the chief of the Wopani Woos
posted by Larry at 7:57 AM
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