New York Marathon Race Report

New York is an incredible place to run!

So, I never actually lived in NYC, but my sister did, I lived upstate for four years during college, and I spent a bit of time both working and hanging out in the city. I always found it lonely and unfriendly, honestly. Something about SO MANY PEOPLE everywhere just made me feel so isolated - by myself in the midst of thousands of people every time I went anywhere in the city.

But yesterday, what the NYC marketing people say about the city was completely true. It became like a small town, with everyone out supporting the runners - and it didn't matter that I passed by hours after the leaders, those New Yorkers cheered for me as if I were first. Crowd support was incredible.

And you know, athletes supporting each other was incredible too. I had tears in my eyes when I passed the double-amputee, pushing himself along on crutches. And a few blind runners. And more than a few people running "in memory of" a loved one.

I've already said New York wasn't about a PR for me. It was about soaking up the spirit of the city and enjoying the company of my friends. And, now that it's done, I'll also say it was about one more thing for me: it was about trying to be the kind of person and the kind of friend I want to be. And in that, I think I was moderately successful.

So here's a recap of the entire day - I want to remember it forever.

I spent the night at Danielle's friend's apartment near Columbia University so my family wouldn't have to drive me to NYC at 4 in the morning. Danielle and I woke up on time, and except for a mad scramble to find her earrings that she had accidentally tossed in the trash can, made it out of the apartment close to on time - but not quite enough. So we had to run four or five blocks to the subway station, fuss with the ticket system, go down the wrong side so we were on the uptown tracks, not downtown, race back up and over, and barely got on the train before the doors closed. Wendy got on the same train a few stops down, so in all we met up fairly easily.

We took the shuttle bus from the NY Public Library to Fort Wadsworth Park. This was probably the hardest part of the day - we got there around 6:30 or so, but the race didn't start until 10:10. They make you do this because they have to close the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge and all athletes need to be on the other side - but basically, you sit around on cold, wet grass for hours before you run. They had food, coffee, tea, and water - and of course Porta-Potties - but it was pretty hard sitting there in the cold, shivering and feeling my muscles stiffen up. I had worn a throw-away sweatshirt plus my winter jacket that I would put in my checked baggage an hour before we started running, a long-sleeve running top and my running jacket, plus two pairs of gloves (one throwaway, one real), but I was still cold.

The time passed quicker than I thought it would, though, and eventually it was time to line up. We walked to the foot of the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge, and then, as Bruce Springsteen's "Born to Run" blared, the gun went off! We were running!

So if you look at the elevation profile of NY, the biggest hill looks like the first bridge. Biggest, though, is extremely relative - and when you typically run in Seattle, there are NO HILLS WHATSOEVER on the NY marathon race course. Seriously. So that was a huge boost of confidence for me - I know I'm strong on hills, but I also know that they do make my heart rate rise, just like anyone else, and I was somewhat concerned that hills plus the amount of time I'd be on that course could combine to make me uncomfortable.

However, because there was the slight incline for the first mile, something unexpected happened: I warmed up. Enough that between miles 1 and 2, I shed my gloves, ear band, and jacket. I was unwilling to part with them (unlike so many other runners - probably for the first five miles we were dodging dropped clothing), so I shoved the gloves and ear band into the jacket pocket and ran with the jacket around my waist. We knew Wendy's sister would be around mile 7 and we could drop things we wanted to keep with her.

So when I warmed up, Wendy warmed up even more. She had been debating tights vs. capris all morning, and because of the cold morning, went with tights. Well, turns out that wasn't a good choice for her - she runs warm, unlike me, so by mile 2 she was HOT whereas I was just comfortable, maybe slightly on the cool side (perfect for running). Our plan had been to run 11 minute miles for the first three, until the crowd thinned out, then pick it up. When it was in theory time to pick it up, though, we couldn't. Wendy was hot and uncomfortable, which made her heart rate rise, and 11 to 12 minute miles was where we needed to stay if we were going to stay together.

Here's where it got hard for me. I was running so effortlessly. It felt great. But the crowds were so thick that it wasn't all that easy for the three of us to run side-by-side. So I was slightly ahead...and I kept getting further ahead, and having to slow down and wait until Danielle and Wendy caught up with me. After a while, this got pretty frustrating. I realized very early on that 4:20 was going to be impossible...and even 4:30 slipped away in the first few miles.


8 miles down, and don't we look lovely! (Me, Wendy, Danielle)

So we saw Wendy's sister between miles 7 and 8, dropped my jacket off with her, and got a decent boost from that. The next thing to look forward to was seeing Eric, Wendy's husband. He was supposed to be around mile 11 with a fabulous gift for Wendy: shorts! After some confusion around where exactly he was going to meet us, we did find him and Wendy changed from tights to shorts, right there on the sidewalk in Brooklyn. We had our little pink skirts on over our tights, so she was somewhat covered, but it still drew more than a few interested glances our way. Wendy also ditched her white Princess shirt - which was SOAKING wet, I picked it up off the ground to give to Eric - and ran in a bra top. Danielle decided to be in solidarity with Wendy and run in her bra, too (a pink one, of course), but I knew John would KILL me if I ran in just a bra, plus I wasn't warm enough to really want to. So I kept my clothing on. :-)

Wendy said she felt so much better in shorts and her bra top, so I was hoping we'd be able to pick up the pace a little bit. I asked her whether she wanted me to do the math and give updates on how we were doing. I do this in every race I run, from my 1-mile time trials to the marathon. It's one of the ways I keep my brain occupied during running. I play with fractions and percentages and make predictions and figure out how fast I'd have to run to come in at X time, etc. At this point, she was still interested in hearing our pace and predicted finish time.

But we really weren't speeding up much. When we hit the halfway point on the Pulaski Bridge, heading from Brooklyn into Queens, I saw 2:30 on my watch. So I knew then that we were likely looking at a five-hour marathon.

Realizing that, though, took away some of the frustration I had been feeling up until the halfway point. I'd run 13 miles in two and a half hours. There was no way in the world that I was going to PR, or see 4:20, or see 4:30. I had really set 4:30 as the "acceptable" time for me to run with my friends, and it wasn't going to happen. So I had to tell myself to just suck it up. To stop caring about what other people think of my time. To live in the moment I had, right then in New York. It was going to be over sooner rather than later and I'd only have the memory. I didn't want the memory to be of being annoyed at my pace or my friends or anything other than the joy of running comfortably amidst a crowd of supportive people and with great friends.

I still felt fabulous at this point. My legs were starting to feel somewhat heavy, but my heart rate was low and I was fully able to talk, laugh, yell, and sing. And skip, and dance. So I did all of those things throughout the second half. There was one thing that happened around mile 16, on the Queensboro Bridge. I had gotten ahead again of Danielle and Wendy, and then you go through this really dark part of the bridge (felt like a tunnel, but I'm not sure it actually was). During that part, I could barely see even with my sunglasses off, so I just kept running and slowed down to wait for them to catch up when we got back into the light. When Wendy and Danielle caught up, Danielle said, "We were just talking, and we don't want to hold you back - so why don't you just go ahead?"

NO! I just got so annoyed that they would suggest it. (I'm not annoyed now - I just was in the moment.) I had already resigned myself to whatever time we got, and was trying to re-focus my time goals on Wendy's - she had said she wanted to come in under 5 hours and make the New York Times (they publish the names/times of the people who run the marathon in under 5). So I just said, in a annoyed tone of voice, that I wasn't going to leave them. But I wanted to know whether I should encourage Wendy or just shut up. I guess I thought that encourage was what was wanted, though I'm less sure now.

So from that point on, I made more of an effort to stay side by side with the girls. Amazingly to me, the crowds of runners were still thick - really, it never thinned out at any point on this race. I hadn't ever experienced that before (though this is by far the biggest race I've ever done). I started making phone calls to whoever I could think of - John, my mom, Aleks, and later, we called Latosha and Regan for some over-the-airwaves encouragement. Danielle and I started monitoring Wendy's eating more closely - she was getting snappy some of the time, and we weren't sure if she hated us or was close to bonking.

My fueling strategy, by the way, was perfect. I did a pack of Jelly Belly Sport Beans just before the race started, then after the first hour, then every 45-50 minutes thereafter. I used course water and didn't carry my own. I knew with the cooler weather I'd be okay without the extra weight and water.

John was waiting for us around mile 17. He was up on top of something snapping pictures, and I made him come down and give me a kiss. Then I had to run faster to catch up with the girls.


Left to right, Danielle, me, Wendy


The last five miles were definitely the most fun for me. I had completely let go of the time goal, because by this point I was sure we were going to come in under 5 hours. So I just danced to the tunes from the "best DJ in the Bronx," then I did the twist while running when we crossed back into Manhattan, and I sang and was generally a goofball for a while. Then I had a great idea at mile 22: at mile 23, we'd all eat our last bit of food, whatever we were using, and we would dedicate the mile to a co-worker of Wendy's, who had told her she "didn't look like a runner."

So we ate, and I dictated a letter to the co-worker. It went something like this:

Dear co-worker,
As I run between miles 23 and 26.2 in New York City on this gorgeous marathon day, I look around me and I see many people. Some are fat, some are thin, some are tall, some are short, some are old, and some are young. But we all have one thing in common: we're going to finish this race today. And you, sir, could probably be here with us, running from mile 23 to 26.2. However, you would have gotten to mile 23 by car, bus, or train - certainly not by your feet.

Love, Wendy, who doesn't "look like a runner" but certainly is!

So we continued through Central Park. John saw us a few times and took our picture (though I only noticed him once), and Eric apparently saw us too and took pictures as we approached the finish line. At this point, I was back to doing some math - and I realized that we might not make 5 hours without a strong push at the end.


I didn't know John was there until we had passed by!


At mile 24, we passed some porta-potties. Wendy reminded me that she'd been so good and hadn't stopped to go! I said I was going to congratulate you, but I didn't want to give you any ideas. And she said that we'd come this far without, she could certainly hang on until the end now.

We definitely picked up our speed the last few miles, passing many, many people. We were dodging around folks - there were quite a few walkers by now, but people still filled almost all the available space. The last half mile came and we knew we needed to go all-out to make 5 hours. I couldn't believe what Wendy was able to put out. We picked up the pace dramatically with the finish line in sight - at 400 meters to go, I thought we had four minutes, then realized it was only 2, and was just yelling at Wendy to go, go, go! She turned to me and yelled, "I'm going as fast as I can!" Um, oops! I shut up and just kept running. I was running hard now too, but not as hard as I could have - my max HR for the day was 175, and I'm sure that was right at the finish. (That's fairly low for me - my max HR overall is 202, so I'd expect to see a full-on sprint to the finish hit at least in the high 180s, if not 190 or so.)


Sprint to the finish


We crossed the finish line together. I looked at my watch. 5:00:25. We hadn't made it. But I did hold out a little bit of hope - I thought we were 8 minutes back from the clock (meaning, took us 8 minutes to cross the start line from the time the gun went off), and I knew the clock said 5:07 something when we crossed. I figured my watch could be off by 25 seconds over 5 hours, right?

Wrong. My official time was 5:00:20. So I missed being in the New York Times by 20 seconds. Wendy said afterwards something like, if only I had put my shorts on faster...but really, it's not about that. It's too bad we won't be in the NY Times - I had wanted to be, and in fact, never once did it occur to me that I would come in over 5 hours until mid-run yesterday - but ultimately it's meaningless. (Update: The NY Times must have had additional space, because they published the names of everyone who finished under 5:05. But still - it's cool, but not that important.)

So I didn't run my fastest yesterday. It was certainly my most comfortable marathon, and that says something big. Today I'm somewhat sore, but not incredibly so, and that's great. I hope my friends still love me after yesterday - I feel like I tried really hard to not be so competitive (and it's definitely not competition with them, it's with myself) and tried to be a good friend and supporter. Danielle stayed with me on the Seattle marathon last year when I know she could have run faster. Finishing with her meant the world to me. Yesterday, I think I paid it foward to Wendy.

Finishing with my friends was more important and just more RIGHT than finishing alone, in a lonely city, surrounded by tens of thousands of strangers. I can't honestly say I feel 100% good about the actual number: 5:00:20. But I can say I feel great about my choice.