Wave 2. Green corral #35. Out of, I don't know, 36? Waaaaay in the back! If you haven't checked out my previous post, read about my adventures leading up to the start of the NY marathon.
Running the Verrazano
The Verrazano-Narrows bridge is a site to behold. From the lower area where the corrals are, looking up onto the bridge and seeing the first wave of runners take off, I was filled with a sense of pride and excitement. Proud to be part of something so BIG, so grand, surrounded by runners coming from all parts of the world united for the love of running.
As we walked onto the bridge, you could feel the excitement. My new buddy and I made our way up to the very front of wave number 2, squeezing our way through the crowd and winding our way through runners, tossed aside garments, porta potty lines, you name it. But by the time we were ready to walk up onto the bridge we were pretty much front and center. Everyone around started wondering how long until the gun went off, and slowly, people started to shed to their race attire. I tossed my sweatshirt and was ready to go. Not 2 minutes too early - there actually ended up only being about 22 minutes between wave 1 and 2, we went a bit early!
As soon as the gun went off, it was as if a huge amount of tension was gone. Time to GO! The first mile of the race is as uphill incline, up to the center of the bridge, but I doubt anyone really felt the rise. That first mile was the most exhilarating mile I've run. Ever. We were on the bottom deck of the bridge, I can't even imagine what it was like on the top. We had beautiful fresh gusts of wind pushing across the bridge, powerful enough to be thrilling but gentle enough to leave us with a sense of optimism. On the side of the bridge, right near the crest of the hill, was a helicopter taking pictures. I remember putting my hands up and waving frantically as I ran by - we pretty much all did - hoping to be one of the lucky ones to get this candid shot.
Once the top of the bridge was reached, it is difficult to maintain pace. All of a sudden there is this wonderful gradual downhill for a whole mile, so tempting to let lose and just go. But I was warned, thanks to my coach, to relax and enjoy the view. That's exactly what I did for the next mile, all the way down into Brooklyn.
Joining Waves
Coming down off of the bridge, coming back down to earth, we entered Brooklyn. I remember a few small hills at the beginning, but also a new source of inspiration. Since we were at the beginning of the wave, we soon ran into those who were in the later part of wave 1, including many runners who had one handicap or another. I saw one woman running who had a prosthetic leg, and she was running so strongly and so determined. Makes you realize that everyone has come here to NY with their own story, their own struggles and their own goals. It's not a race against each other, or even a race against the clock, but a race for each of us against our own hurdles.
Somewhere around this time, our green wave met up with one of the other colors. My memories are too hazy at this point to remember if it was the orange or the blue, but I remember approaching an intersection and all of a sudden being in a large mass of runners. We were pretty spread out up until this point, so now it really felt like the huge race that NYC is. We joined in from the right, and continued straight for a few miles of REALLY LOUD cheering and support. Brooklyn fans are the best!
Everybody Loves Kristen
I just liked that heading :). I decided the night before the race to write my name on my singlet. It's an idea I got from watching numerous road races, and realizing that I could only cheer for those whose names I knew - or read off of their shirts. As I ran through Brooklyn, I didn't go two steps without hearing 'go Kristen!!'. I think those runners around me must have been confused. That, or thought that I must have grown up here in the city. Nah, I just live for the applause! It's hard to give up or slow down when people are constantly screaming your name, that is for sure. If you ever run a road race, I would highly recommend!
Cultures Abound
Somewhere around mile 8, we finally joined the 3rd wave of runners. We also came to Williamsburg, which is a small section of the race which sticks in my mind. After the crowds, cheering, music, of the first few miles, the relative quiet stretch through Williamsburg was quite a contrast. There were still many people cheering, but also an ever-present influence of the surrounding Hasidic Jewish community. I recall running while people went about their everyday business, crossing the road in front of runners, some acknowledging that the race was going on but some not. To some people in NYC, this was just an average Sunday. Imagine that!
Pushing Through to Queens
My coach told me that the second big hill happened at mile 15, the Queensboro bridge. It is at this point that the runners who go out too fast start to suffer. You want to be passing people on that bridge, not be passed! So, that was my mentality and that was my goal. For the first 15 miles of the race, I kept telling myself to take it easy so that I was still relatively fresh by mile 15.
That philosophy kind of worked. There is this bridge at mile 13 though that had me fooled for a short while. Coming up to it I thought that this couldnt possibly be the second big bridge - it was small-ish - and we were only at mile 12/13. However, the happy and high on adrenaline part of me thought that I was just doing that awesome. Somehow, I was further than I thought. Nope. The real Queensboro bridge did come at mile 15. And I was ready for it - both passing people and being passed. That was a very long bridge, I tried to maintain speed on the way up but I know that this is when I began to slow down my pace.
It is also at this point that I think we got a bit of rain. As we go later in the miles, things become hazy :).
THE WALL
Coming down off this second bridge, I was all optimistic. Right on pace for my goal race time, feeling great, the knee injury not complaining at all. And I had made it through that 15 mile hurdle.
But then, entering Queens, reality set in. The next 3 miles was ok, some slight up and downs, but nothing major. Around mile 18, thats when I hit my wall. It's supposed to happen at 20, I'm not sure why mine decided to come early. I think maybe it was the long slow uphill that was sneaking up on us. Supposedly you can't even tell, but I can tell if a road is one degree above flat! Especially at mile 17.
My fueling strategy up until that point had been spot on as well. I took a Powergel at mile 5, 10, and 15. But miles 17 and 18 were tough. I felt myself slowly rolling to the point of a stop, and my mentality starting to change. It's amazing how before a race, even for months before a race, you can be so amped up to RACE, to run a best time, to run FAST. But during the race, the comfort and pleasure of slowing down is such a temptress, it often overcomes a weakened mind. My mind started thinking of how nice a day it was, and how it would be lovely to just slow down and enjoy the crowd, enjoy NY. It doesn't really matter if I finish fast anyway right? I say 'my mind' started thinking because, come on, thats not what I wanted!! But just as our muscles physically become weak, our mental strength and our ability to keep pushing in the face of discomfort become weakened as well. It just seems less and less worth it.
Thats why I decided to stop. At mile 19, I actually stopped at the water stop and took my last gel early. I walked, for only about 10-20 seconds, but that is what I needed for a mental break. Instead of rolling slower and slower, I wanted to get back at it again. And it worked, to a degree. I never got back to my 7:40 pace of the first half of the race, but I was able to stay aroud 9:30 for the rest of the race. That's quite a bit slower, but in the past I've been known to pull some 11 or 12s at the end of the race :).
At Long Last.... Central Park.. and more Central Park...
Having made it through my mile 18/19 wall, I ran slowly and steadily through 20... 21... 22. And honestly, I don't remember much. Long roads, a whole lot of fans, and a constant voice that just said 'keep going, keep going.' At every mile I was tempted to stop, at every mile I convinced myself that I would stop at the NEXT mile. Having an internal debate in my mind, with both sides being very tired and confused.
I think around mile 23 I noticed that I was in Central Park. And there is a CRAZY hill around this point. Probably not that steep for a morning run, but very very steep for a mile 23 hill. I did slow down, just worrying about right foot in front of left foot for awhile. I am pretty sure that this was my slowest mile. And being in central park, you can't help but expect the finish line to be right around the corner. Even though I knew that I had 3 miles to go, it is hard to imagine that I'll be running for 3 whole miles around a park.
But indeed, that's exactly what happens. Those last 3 miles were long. So long. I'll admit that I started counting, a trick that my mom uses to pass the miles. It goes something like this : I have a mile to run. I can run a mile in about 500 seconds. Let me count to 500 and worry about the counting, and I'll be at the next mile mark before I realize it. I got from 24 to 25 in 475 counts. Undoubtedly counting much slower that 1 per second.
One more mile! Count to 475 again right? Well, at 500 I was still at the '1/2 mile left' mark. I guess I slowed down some more. But what's really cool, if you're still conscious at this point, is that there are so many markers in the last 1/4 mile. Last 1k. Last 400 meters. Last 400 yards. Last 300 yards. Enjoy every second of it, because THIS IS IT!!
The Finish
I crossed the line at 4:00:57. Having started in wave 2, I knew that put me around 3:35. Qualifying time for Boston for my age is 3:35...... so close!! I wouldn't find out my time until hours later when I finally found my family, but ended up with a 3:38. If only we'd actually started 25 minutes behind wave 1 :).
As soon as I crossed the finish line, I was greeted by a wall of runners and volunteers. The runners struggling to 'keep walking' and the volunteers encouraging them to 'keep walking.' Instantly, my legs cramped up in their entirety. My hip flexors just stopped working, my knee pain came rushing back.. you name it, it hurt. At least from the waist down.
I owe a huge thank you to the awesome volunteers at the race that day. After about 5 asks, I finally admitted that maybe the med tent was a good place for me. One of the volunteers helped me over to the tent, and it was nice and warm inside! She helped me to a bed - there were rows and rows of beds, runners getting stretch, massage, some even getting emergency care as they were dehydrated or injured. My pain was minor compared to others, but a student therapist gave me some nice massage that loosened up my hips enough to walk again. I am eternally grateful, or else I may just have been stuck in Central Park forever.
After the med tent, I kept walking. It was cold, so cold. And walking, and walking, and walking... Probably slower than a snail, as each step was so painful. I had no bag to pick up, so I can only imagine how long I would have had to walk if I'd had a bag to pick up first. Somewhere along the treck we were handed bright orange ponchos. Orange, with amazing blue furry warm stuff on the inside. I love my NY poncho. I don't know where I'll ever have the opportunity to wear it again, but it is a keeper. That poncho helped me make it through mile 27 of my marathon.
Finally, I met up with my family at the family reunion spot. I found out my time at this point, hugs all around, and lots of stories to tell. A much shorter, condensed, and tired version of what you got to hear :).
I love NY. Take a chance, and enter the lottery. I will be doing so each and every year, knowing full well that if I get in I won't be able to turn it down. The excitement, the fun, and the joy of running in such a vibrant city makes all the pain worth it :).
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