The New York City Marathon

The day of the marathon arrived.  I spent the early part of the previous night trying to find a fitting pair of sunglasses to wear.  I was at the Urban outfitters at 9pm Saturday Night and found a lightweight pair.  Sleep was pretty fitful, I was afraid I would oversleep and miss my train.  I got up and got ready.  Jon walked me to the subway and rode part of the way with me.  Sunday morning at 7 and the only people on the train were racers.  There was a problem with the track, so we transferred to a bus taking us to the Staten Island Ferry

  The ferry was packed but I found a seat on the bottom deck and watched out the window as New York grew smaller.  It was a fairly quiet ride, maybe people were just as nervous, and we finally reached the shore and were herded to another bus taking us to Fort Wadsworth.  My start time was 10:40, and the drop off time for my bag to be taken to the finish line was 9:15.  I looked at my phone and realized I had less than five minutes to get rid of my clothes and whatever else I was leaving with the UPS trucks.  My warm pants and my coat and hoodie stayed behind.  I was in the 30 degree weather in my shorts and a long sleeve tee shirt.  Keith had given me a rain poncho just in case and I held onto that as well.  I spent the next hour hunkered down in what sunshine I could find under the poncho.  Around 10:15 we were herded into our corrals, then led toward the Verrazano Narrows bridge.  Before leaving the corrals, I ditched my long sleeve tee in the donation piles.  Waiting for the gun to start at the base of the bridge was cold and exciting.  A sea of people, all nationalities, all body types some excitedly talking, some crying, some that looked as nervous as I felt.

 Finally, as the shot rang out and a big cheer rose from the crowd, Frank Sinatra crooning "If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere..." over the loudspeakers pushed us over the starting line and up the slope to the bridge.
The bridges are the hardest part of the entire race for me.  The wind whipped around the runners and through our clothes on the bridges, the slope going over the bridges is pretty heavy and there aren't any other people on the bridge.  New Yorkers are amazing people, coming out in full force all along the route and cheering.  All along the streets through every neighborhood were young and old, bands playing, choirs singing, everyone cheering.  The toughest part of the course were the water/gatorade stops.  The runners bottlenecked and slowed, the ground was sticky and slippery.  Runners are never too concerned where they spit or throw their water so every mile was an exercise in not slipping and avoiding flying cups or spit or worse.  I felt pretty good most of the race.  I knew I had a long time to go to see my friends and Jon, waiting at mile 19, but that didn't stop Jonnie from calling my cell phone a few times to check my progress.   Yes, I was that guy that stopped to answer his phone. (At least I stopped, i saw people running and talking on their phone!)

 Coming across the bridge to First St and maybe 30 blocks from Jon and friends was quiet, no people but runners on the bridge, and cold.  The wind was all over the place and it was a long long bridge.  The reward was seeing Jon and Kara and James cheering and waiting on the side of the road.

The hardest part for me, I think I realized that the wall was facing me down, was right around mile 20 and I thought it should have been mile 21.  I was counting miles in my head and I was one off.  My legs were feeling heavy and I just wanted to get to the end.  Along the side of the road heading toward the park, I saw Julie and Kim and Loie.  Its nice to see faces you know in the madness of New York.  At long last I entered the park, and I knew the end was near.  My legs were ready to give up, but my lungs were feeling strong.  I passed a man running with an entourage and being filmed from the back of a golf cart in front of him.  I didn't realize til later that he was the Chilean miner.  I saw my good friend Jamie, who took the train from DC to New York.  Ahead I saw the finish line and I remember thinking to run harder across but I'm not sure my body was compliant.  As I crossed the finish line, my cell phone in my pouch rang and it was my mother calling to check on me.  Perfect ending to a long race.