New York City Marathon Race Report: Pre-Race and Race Results
Every great holiday is preceded by an evening feast the night before the event. There’s Christmas Eve, New Year’s Eve and my favorite, Marathon Eve. It has become somewhat of a tradition in our house. The night before the marathon, my wife, Rose, decorated our family room with balloons and proceeded to prepare an unbelievable pasta dinner complete with meatballs, sausage and garlic bread!! Keri, Dan and my daughter, Christine, joined us for the pre-race festivities which concluded with my favorite chocolate fudge cake. After stuffing myself, I settled into my recliner to contemplate the next day’s event. Shortly afterwards I went upstairs to watch some TV and rest my legs.
On race day my alarm was set for 4:00 a.m., but I never had to listen to the annoying ring because I arose several minutes earlier. I actually want to take a minute and thank George W. Bush. It’s because of George Bush everyone running the New York City Marathon gets an extra hour’s sleep!!
After two cups of coffee, a bagel and a banana, I kissed Rose goodbye and jokingly told her to let us know if she sees us on TV along the race course. Keri and her fiancé, Dan, picked me up for our ride to Giants Stadium where we boarded a bus that would take us to the runner’s village at Fort Wadsworth.
It wasn’t long after we entered the runner’s village that Keri met up with a few of her fellow bloggers. I had the distinct honor of meeting Jaime, Penny, Liz, Janae and Sarah and listened to their incredible individual stories. Jaime, who never ran more than 10 miles during her training ultimately passed us near 21. Sarah, who ran a marathon the day before, hopped on a plan and flew to New York to run the NYC Marathon, and passed us at mile 18. Liz, who attempted a sub-3 marathon and finished with a new PR of 3:05. I can’t believe that so many runners blog, or is it that so many bloggers run? For a few minutes, I felt like Bart Yasso the Chief Running Officer of Runner’s World as we swapped running and training stories.
In the village, we were surrounded by a diversity of people from dozens of countries and all walks of life with one thing in common: running. Not just running, but running marathons. After a few minutes in the village, we wisely made our way to the area near the corrals. The corrals opened promptly at 8:20 a.m. for Wave 1 and were pre-assigned based upon expected finishing time. With 47,438 runners entered, it was critically important to be with runners of similar abilities to avoid the congestion that is inevitable along the race course. One thing, however, we learned that day was that it is also extremely important to get to your corral on time, because they promptly closed at 8:55 A.M. Tardy runners were literally sent to the last corral in the Wave.
At approximately 9:20 A.M. the corrals were opened and we were herded to an area near the toll plaza leading to the Verazzano-Narrows Bridge where we assembled before making our final approach to the starting line. The roadway was lined on one side with New York sightseeing buses that formed a barrier between the entrance ramp and the runners. They also served as a makeshift port-a-potty for those runners that consumed too much pre-race water or Gatorade. {Keri}: Gross.
With the race slated to start in only a few minutes, I wanted to use our final time on the ramp to create an imprint in my mind that would hopefully stay with me for the rest of my life. As I looked around I was able to observed one of the most beautiful, panoramic, blue skies I’ve ever seen, with barely the hint of a cloud. It something I could have easily missed amid the noise and excitement that morning. Circling the start was small yellow plane, similar to the ones you see flying along the New Jersey shore in the summer, pulling a sign that said something like, Run, Life, Fun, Beer. Several helicopters continuously hovered above, while a jet off in the distance ascended onward and upward, leaving behind a white contrail painted in the sky like the Blue Line on the road that lay ahead of us.
As we waited to move closer to the actual starting line, you could literally feel the energy emitted by the crowd. And then, suddenly, we were given the signal to move into position for the start! As we strolled towards the toll plaza, a large sign above announced a $13 toll!! We were finally within sight of the starting line which was probably only a few hundred yards in front of us. The singing of New York, New York was followed by the Star Spangle Banner and then the blast of the cannon signaling the start of the greatest race on earth echoed before us!!
And with that, months of training, eating and sleeping right were all distance memories yielding to the demands of the moment and a stampeded of runners all chasing the finish line. The initial climb up the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, while the most dramatic in terms of elevation along the course, also provided one of the most brilliant vistas of the day. Runners were jumping up on the concrete barriers to take pictures. The sound of helicopters hovering near by while taking video was amplified by the cold blue steel structure of the bridge. A Coast Guard helicopter complete with red and white markings appeared to keep a watchful eye to make sure that no one jumped off the bridge. {Keri}: Is that what they were there for?? I didn’t know that! For a few moments, it felt more like we were actors in a movie than runners in a marathon with all the flashing cameras and TV cameras before us.
After more than two minutes we crossed the starting line and I finally got to hit the start button on my Garmin. As we crossed the start line I also thought to myself that the leaders were probably already more than a half mile into the race! I had hoped that our pace at the start would be closer to 8:00 / mile, but the congestion on the bridge combined with unwanted clothing begin discarded resulted in a traffic jam not dissimilar to that which you would find on the Garden State parkway on a Friday evening in the Summer. {Keri}: Ughh Jersey shore traffic is the worst! As we approached the apex of the bridge, we spied the first mile clock of the day which read 11:40-something. While we approached the first mile marker, the leaders were probably heading into mile three. According to our watches, we mustered an 8:44 pace which while slow for a first mile, would seem fast later in the race!!
But with the slow first mile on a steep portion of the course, we were able to conserve some energy and ran our best mile of the day at Mile 2 (7:34) taking advantage of the downhill slope of the bridge without overrunning. As we came off the bridge, we got our first taste of the New York crowds which would continually build all along the course, and it was simply amazing!
Before the race I warned Keri that I might not be as talkative as she is used to on our training runs because I needed to focus and breath. As we exited the bridge, our Wave entered Brooklyn where we were greeted with signs that said “Welcome to Brooklyn” and “Welcome to Brooklyn- Now Go Home!” It was one of the few places that I was able to take notice of my surroundings because I felt fresh, but the wide berth of the bridge gave way to the narrow streets of Brooklyn which presented a unique challenge that wasn’t unexpected. At the beginning of the race, each Wave follows a unique route after exiting the bridge just before Mile 2. While the sea of runners split into its smaller tributaries, it was really impossible to pass anyone at this point of the race, but some runners tried. I can’t tell you how many times I had someone clip one of my heels as they tried to squeeze by. While I was slightly annoyed, I also understood that this was a race and they weren’t purposely trying to tackle me.
We were, however, able to maintain a fairly steady pace of 7:53 – 7:55 / mile over miles 3 – 6 while somewhat limited by the narrow streets and wall to wall runners. I attempted to run down the center of the road to avoid the sloping edge of the crown in the road which I knew would take its toll over 26.2 miles if I had to run on an uneven surface only veering to the side as water and Gatorade tables approached. But every once in a while, I got a glimpse of the fabled Blue Line that directs the runners to Central Park like the Yellow Brick Road to Oz..
As we banked another mile at 3, I struggled for the first time to reach into the small pockets of my running shorts to retrieve a GU. The task was made more difficult by a safety pin which I strategically paced to prevent my supply of GUs from falling out of my pocket as I ran. While the experts suggest consuming a Gu ever 20 minutes, I strive to consumed one 20 – 30 minutes prior to the race and one every 3.5 to 4 miles to replenish lost nutrients. Even though the weather was cool, I knew it would be extremely important to stay hydrated by drinking either water or Gatorade at every chance. I would consume 6 or 7 GUs while running and crush scores more with my feet as the popping sound of unopened GUs and energy gels which were mistakenly dropped by runners would become all too familiar.
The hospitality of the spectators in Brooklyn was second to none and was further punctuated for me when I observed some runners wiping their heads with paper towels. I wondered immediately where they came from and then up ahead I spotted a gentleman, roll of paper towels in hand, gladly distributing then towels to sweaty runners. He handed me a towel and I was able to wipe the sweat from my head which quickly returned, but for a few brief moments, I felt relief.
The water tables, which were present at every mile starting at Mile 3, were chaotic and a little dangerous to say the least. Keri was a big help after the mid-point of the race by navigating through the log jamb on my behalf and grabbing a water or Gatorade and delivering one to me. Apolo Ohno may have run with his trainer, but I had Keri!! (I think she would have beaten Apolo if I didn’t slow her down). {Keri}: I don’t think so.
I thought to myself on several occasions that if they can fuel fighter jets in midair, why can’t they come up with a better way to distribute water and Gatorade along race courses? I’ve come to expect that tired runners will stop to drink as they should, but I really wish they would learn to grab a water and stop off to the side- not 6 feet out on the course or at the table itself.
Beyond the tables, we pushed deeper into Brooklyn on our way to Queens. The roadways were still congested, but the controlled pace established by the group around us allowed us to maintain a steady pace which I had hoped that we could maintain for the rest of the race.
Miles 4 through 7 sailed by as Keri kept a sharp eye out for an old college friend. We cruised through Brooklyn at a rather comfortable pace.
{Miles 4 - 7}: 7:56, 7:57, 7:55, 8:02
And for a while I thought that a 3:35 – 3:40 finish might be in the cards. As you can see by the chart {below}, there are some rolling hills, but nothing too extreme which would induce premature fatigue.
Just beyond Mile 8, the three Waves converged for the first time since we were separated since the start. The energy of the crowds along Mile 8 equaled that of the runners running and provided great distraction because we were about to make our first notable ascent since the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. Feeling strong, we powered up Lafayette Avenue at an 8:11 pace, followed by an 8:08 for Mile 9 concurring the first significant hill out on the course. We confidently sped through Mile 10 at an 8:00 minute pace aided both the crowd and downhill slope as the road compassionately slowly returned to its original elevation.
Miles 11 – 14 flew by rather quickly and were relatively flat save the Pulaski Bridge, which appeared at Mile 13.
{Miles 11 –14}: 8:12, 8:17, 8:15, 8:17
But the incline of the Pulaski Bridge became a decline and vanished as quickly as it appeared so any time lost climbing the bridge was recovered on the downside. However, any relief we felt suddenly evaporate by the mammoth structure known as the Queensboro Bridge. The mile long climb to the summit of the bridge really isn’t all that extreme, but it comes at a bad time. After running some respectable miles, the Queensboro Bridge inflicted the first real body blow of the day. {Keri}: Yes. it. did.
Up until that point, our average pace only varied by only a few seconds per mile. I remember saying to Keri earlier that I wanted to maintain a consistent effort, not pace, while running the bridges. But that effort only resulted in a 8:48 pace for Mile 15 and an abysmal 9:38 for Mile 16; however, our Garmins lost signal for at least part of the time while we were running the bridge because we were on the lower level, so I’m not sure how accurate that readout is. Garmin or not, my body paid the first significant toll of the day.
We finally reached the top of the bridge and were rewarded with a relaxing downhill run for the next couple of miles as we were getting ready to make our brief foray in the Bronx and then onto Manhattan!!!
{Mile 17 –19}: 8:22, 8:16, 8:34
Not only did our pace improve, but I was able to recollect my thoughts and began to think for the first time that day that the finish line was less than a training run ahead. But it was also where I began a refrain that I would repeat several times per mile until the end of the race to Keri: “Sorry, I can’t run any faster.”
Mile 20 – 9:07
Mile 20 took us over the Willis Avenue Bridge and into the Bronx. The short rise in elevation would be a precursor to the rest of the course as we approached Central Park and inflicted the final body of the day. I knew that 3:45 was slipping away, but I was not discouraged. While I enjoy running, I know my limits when it come to running. By that point, the cumulative effects of the preceding miles were all coming together. Until that point, I felt some joint pain in my knees, a stiff neck because when I get tired I run with my head down so as not step in a pothole and twist an ankle, and muscular tightness in my chest (not cardiac related, but muscle strain) from holding my arms high.
Add to that legs that increasingly felt “heavy” and its no wonder I slowed the pace and began to take shorter steps. I probably could have shaved a minute or slightly more off of my finishing time if I wanted to endure increasing pain, but I was sincerely happy with my progress that day. Keri, on the other hand, was smiling like she was out for a walk in the park, i.e., Central Park!
Rocky Balboa didn’t win his first Championship fight, but he inflicted some serious pain on his opponent. I wanted to finish the race on my feet, standing tall and proud as they placed the finishers’ metal around my neck and not being dragged across due to a serious miscalculation.
And it’s Miles 21 – 26.2 that I remember the most that day.
{Mile 21–26.2}: 9:19, 9:02, 9:22, 9:48, 9:38, 9:34
Not because our pace crawled to no better than 9:02, but because as we turned onto to Fifth Avenue, off in the distance was the majestic Empire State Building! But up ahead was a grade that began just before the end of Mile 23 and would not crest until after Mile 24! By then we were on East Drive and ready to enter Central Park. Could I muster one or two sub nine or eight minute miles and capture that 3:45? No, way!!!
As we ran, I mean jogged, the last mile or so, I couldn’t wait to see the finish line, not so much to finish the race, as crazy as that might sound, but to take in the final visual that is the New York City Marathon. As we approached the finish line Keri and I each raised our arms together positioned like we did in Philadelphia two years earlier as we came to the end of The Blue Line as we had started.
Next From Blue-Eyed Dad: Marathon Comparison and Training Analysis
Good morning!
