I Heart NY

On a whim, in February, I entered the lottery for the New York City Marathon. It was only ten bucks and I didn't expect to get in. I was going for my big PR in Columbus. Columbus is flat, close to home, and I could drag the kids along. I started a blog detailing my training for Columbus. When Vivian Adkins sent me a message indicating that I got into NY, I was surprised and I actually felt like had won a lottery! So, now my goal marathon had changed, but my time goal had not. What to do?

Ok, enough of an introduction. Here's the scoop on the most awesome marathon in the world. In honor of all things New York, you better go grab a cocktail and put on a CD of Frank Sinatra or showtunes, put your feet up and get comfy. I have a feeling this is going to be long.

Marathon weekend in New York City is one of the busiest weekends of the year. The locals know this and try to stay away; the hotels know this and raise their rates. If you have any intention of running NY next year, make your hotel reservation NOW. You can always cancel it if you don't get in. Or, you can do what we did and rent an apartment on VRBO.com and live like a New Yorker for a weekend. You might want to make sure the apartment has an elevator though. Ours was a 4th floor walkup. 49 old and winding steps. Imagine how that felt after running 26.2 miles! But, oh how cool!

On Friday evening we had a great time with some old friends who live in Tribeca. We didn't get to bed until almost 2 AM so when 7 AM rolled around and I thought about rolling out of bed to walk a couple of blocks to Central Park to watch the olympic trials, I just rolled right back over and went back to sleep.

We took the free shuttle to the expo on Saturday. When I entered the lottery in February, I had to answer a question that would predict my finish time. There must have been date parameters because for some reason, I entered my personal worst marathon finish time: 5:09 from The Flying Pig Marathon 2006. My corral and race number were based on this and I was assigned number 34877 which projects a 5:15 finish time. If you've followed my blog, you know that I have made dramatic improvements this year and my training goal, and McMillan predicted finish time was approximately 4:20 (or less). The NYCM website indicated if this was the case, then to go to the help desk and they would help you correct the problem. I was told here that the website was wrong and I should just "work my way up." Ha. Ha. Anyway, other than that, the expo was alot of fun. The official shirt is a long sleeve technical tee. If you are an average height woman, like me, the sleeves will come down past your fingertips but it's a nice shirt. There was still plenty of asics branded logo wear available in most sizes and I was able to get the $160 jacket at the markdown price of $100. I also picked up a free Livestrong tech tee at the Nike store by showing my race number. It's now the best-fitting shirt I own. Thanks Lance! Oh, and great job yesterday!

Saturday night we had a great time meeting V-Teamers at a dinner arranged by Colleen. We met Mr. and Mrs. Mark(Carol), Julio, Jeff Burch, Bob Kujakowski, Vivian and Brian Adkins, Dave (Lobo) Wolfe, and the venerable Hal Higdon. Pictures, of course, will follow! My husband, Scott, was there too, but I still feel like I'm forgetting someone. Jess, we missed you! Julio, Jeff, and I made plans to meet at the Staten Island Ferry the next morning.

Vivian, Brian, Colleen, Hal, Carol (Mrs. Mark)

Mr. & Mrs. Mark, Julio

Race Day: Staten Island

I slept well on Saturday night and appreciated the extra hour of sleep. I caught the downtown subway and rode with hundreds of other marathoners to the Staten Island ferry. There I met Julio and we took the ferry together. I can't speak for the midtown bus, but the ferry is a superb way to get to Staten Island. Julio and I got to sit down by the windows on the Lady Liberty side of the boat. We got to Staten Island and we got off the ferry in a sea of humanity -- all marathoners waiting to board a shuttle to Fort Wadsworth. Once there, we walked until we located our blue corral. Then we had to locate the baggage drop. Being a "W" (for Wolf) my baggage was assigned to Truck #71. This is one of only two collosal screw ups in an otherwise amazingly organized race. I told Julio that I would meet him back at a tree after I checked my bag, but Truck #71 was located about a foot away from a high chain link fence with about 10 feet on the other side for participants to both enter the corrals and enter the baggage area from both directions. We were jam packed like sardines in a can going nowhere. Some people tried to climb over UPS trucks and climb the fence to get out until the park rangers and coast guard reprimanded them. I was just trying to get rid of my baggage! I finally managed to check my bag and escape, but I was actually sweating from being locked into the crowd for so long.

Thinking about checking my baggage


Once in the corral, I looked for the 4:30 pacer, knowing that there was no 4:20 group. I tried to be as inconspicuous as I could since the 4:30 group corresponded to numbers 26,000-28,000 and everyone around me seemed to be abiding by the numbers. I didn't see any race marshals though, so knowing what I know now, I would have definitely moved up even further in the corral. At about 10:10 I heard the vague sound of what must have been a start canon, but we didn't go anywhere. In fact, our corral slowly, in fits and starts, started walking toward the starting line at the Verrazano-Narrows bridge. Around a corner, time for a pit stop, back in the line (same place, LOL), and we kept going. As I looked around at the throngs of people, heard the many different languages being spoken, laughed at the costumed runners, noticed all the runners with cameras in hand, I started tearing up for the first of many emotional moments to come.

Finally! The bridge and the strains of "New York, New York." As Marilena said, it was easy to get on pace immediately. The three corral starts made for a deceptively easy first eight miles. Up and down the biggest hill of the course and we were in

Brooklyn

If you are going to run the New York City Marathon, you've got to wear an "I Love NY" t-shirt. The spectators in Brooklyn were amazing -- they LOVE New York! Instead of screaming my name they screamed "We love you too!" or (the best one) "I love you too, Babe!" I wore my Girls on the Run tiara which I had decorated with my name and heard "Go Natalie" and "Go Natalia!" I high-fived kids. I love Brooklyn! My pace was great and my energy was high. Between mile 8 and 9 the three corrals converged and things became more complicated and confusing. I immediately found myself running with a 4:00 pace group only to realize that it was a green corral pace group. There were about thirty in the group and they muscled me out of their way with a "Pace group coming through" shout. What's up with that???? At times, with the converged corrals and the narrow roads, I found it difficult and at times impossible to keep on pace. I grew frustrated. I didn't want to give up my goal so quickly, but I couldn't figure out a way to pick up my pace without expending too much energy weaving through the crowd. In the meantime, I enjoyed the diversity of the neighborhoods in Brooklyn. It seemed there was a band on every block and they were playing all of my favorite songs from my playlist from "Vaseline" by The Flaming Lips, to "Low Rider" by War, to the Rocky theme song. Pretty soon, we were on a downhill stretch facing a sign that said "Slow Down: Sharp Turn Ahead" and we were in

Queens

Queens was a mecca of shopping and little restaurants. The crowds were enthusiastic and I kept thinking, "where's the 59th Street Bridge?" We went over a bridge, but it wasn't the Queensborough -- it was steep, but it was short. Then I saw it. I knew that coming off the bridge would be a highlight of the race. We had driven over it by taxi. I had seen it lit up at night. The Queensborough/59th Street Bridge is long. I think it's a mile long, as I noticed that it appeared to be marked in .10 mile increments when we were on it. You run on the lower level of the bridge -- the upper level is for trains. I was wearing my sunglasses, and initially, I felt like I was blind in the dark. My eyes needed to adjust to the lack of light. I hated running on this bridge. Runners were slow. They stopped. They took pictures. They walked on the incline. Again, I was frustrated. Finally, we descended to the deafening roar of the crowds in

Manhattan

I chose this moment to run into a porto-potty under the bridge that had no line. At that particular moment, the crowds in the street on 1st Avenue decided to cheer "Go!Go!Go!Go!" Fortunately, I was able to comply. ;) As I started up the long, incline that was 1st Avenue, I looked ahead and all I could see was thousands of runners ahead of me and the streets lined with thousands of cheering people. For the second time, I thought about what I was doing, here in New York, running a marathon right through the streets of Manhattan and my eyes welled up with tears.

Runners coming up 1st Avenue, Manhattan

(I have to say something here about best laid plans. And I am a planner. I had Scott's itinerary for the day completely planned out. I had printed out his subway route. He had a pace band to match mind. He had maps. He was wearing a special, lime green, t-shirt. When I got off the bridge in Brooklyn I realized we had forgotten one thing. A very important thing. Which side of the street would he be on? Once I hit 1st Avenue, I knew it would take a miracle to every spot him).

1st Avenue is a gradual uphill climb for about 4 miles. Yes, I said four miles. The grade is so minimal that if it wasn't four miles you might not even notice it. But I managed to keep going and stay on about a 10:00-10:15 pace. I didn't drink at every water stop in hopes of making up time, but each stopped caused me to slow down anyway because of the vast amounts of debris and spilled gatorade on the road. I know there must have been entertainment in this part of Manhattan, but the longer I ran, the less aware I became of my external surroundings and the more internal became my focus. Somewhere around 100th street, the 4:30 pace group became my pace group and I realized that I would probably finish around 4:30. At the crest of the hill, we crossed a bridge and we were in

the Bronx

We were only in the Bronx for one mile, but what a mile! The people of the Bronx really supported the runners with "Welcome to the Bronx" signs and banners. I was no longer running uphill and I became aware of D.J.s and bands. Before I knew it we were in

Harlem

and there was only 10k to go. Harlem is beautiful. The brownstones are lovely. It's very picturesque. I wondered if Bill Clinton was watching from his office -- maybe he would hand out orange slices? I realized that I was going to have my best final 10k of any marathon I'd run. I could feel that there was going to be no wall today. I wanted to go faster. I felt like I could pick it up. I just couldn't find an opening. At one point, in Harlem, I heard honking and sirens and the Brightroom video camera cart came through the middle of the road at a snails pace. No one could pass the truck. I was really pissed. I'd already said goodbye to 4:20 and now the truck was between me and the 4:30 pacer. This marathon is like rush hour in L.A.!!! Why couldn't I join the carpool lane???

With 4 miles to go we were back in Manhattan going downhill on 5th Avenue (runs parallel to 1st Ave.). I knew I could do it. I love to run 4 miles. I looked for Scott as he was supposed to be at mile 23 just before we entered Central Park. The crowds were so inspiring! I was ok with not seeing my husband. Just before Mile 24 we turned into Central Park. I've run here before. I know it's hilly, but it's beautiful. The crowds were in a frenzy. Then I hear it behind me in my left ear, "GO HONEY!!!" and I see a glimpse of lime green. It can't be! This wasn't one of our planned viewing spots! But there he was, running beside me (against the rules, I know), but I was thrilled to finally see him. When I saw the 24 mile sign, my body was ready to quit, but my brain was actually saying, "slow down -- you don't want it to end." Fortunately, I listened to the other part of my brain that said don't slow down -- finish strong. So I told myself (outloud) to dig harder. With 800 meters to go, a young guy passed me and shouted "C'mon Wolf, let's go!" (back of my shirt said "I Am The Big Bad Wolf"), but I couldn't quite keep up with him. A quick jaunt onto Central Park South, then back in the Park and uphill to the finish! I smiled for the camera, hit my watch, and looked for Colleen. She placed the medal around my neck and gave me a big hug, which I desperately needed.

Post Race

I hit my watch at 4:31:15 (official time 4:31:12 -- had to smile for the camera). I gave the NYCM everything I had. I ran with my body and my mind. I crossed the finish line with nothing left over. We were handed a heat sheet and someone stuck a piece of tape on it to keep it closed (nice touch), an apple, a water, and a heavy bag filled with a bottle of gatorade, water, another apple, and a recovery bar. Then we were funnelled down the road toward the UPS trucks. Once again sardines. Only this time it was a dangerous situation. I felt sick. Other people felt worse. We couldn't move. Every few minutes there was a call for a medic. "Runner down" became a familiar refrain. Being a "W" I had to walk uphill another mile to Truck #71 for my baggage and then exit the park at 85th Street. I must have looked scary, because no less than half a dozen medics asked me if I was ok. I could barely walk, my lips were blue, and I was crying. My fingers turned white from the cold and I stopped in the medical tent for a pair of surgical gloves. I don't know why I was so emotional. When I finally got out of the park and saw Scott on Central Park West, the tears really came. I can only speculate that I have been so focused on this race, that when I realized that it was over, I was completely overcome with emotion.

Our friend Charlie meets us at the "W" on Central Park West (Bet you thought he was that tourist!)

Being a marathon finisher in New York City makes you a celebrity for a day. A tourist wanted to take my picture. Then he wanted to pose for a picture with me in it. Then we got on a crosstown bus and I wasn't allowed to swipe my metro card.

I LOVE NEW YORK!!!!!