I am in love with New York City. Not the kind of love that you want to wake up next to every morning for the rest of your life, but small doses here and there is just fabulous. My friend moved to the city a couple of years ago and this was my second trip out there - although this trip was completely different from the last, I feel like I was able to get much more intimate with the city and learn a lot more about it in the short time I was there.
To get to the start (which is on Staten Island), I was assigned to the 8.00 ferry from Manhattan. The hubs, my dad and I left the hotel around 7.15 on Sunday morning to walk over there,
ensuring I'd make it to the ferry early and hopefully onto an earlier boat. Although I was expecting 44,000 runners - the largest crowd ever for this race - I was surprised by the sheer mass of people waiting for the ferry. There were thousands of people waiting, and this didn't include the thousands that had left earlier or who had gone over on busses or from New Jersey. Luckily, because we'd arrived early, I was able to say good bye to my spectators and get on a ferry around 7.45. (Please note my rockin' sweats and very excited and awake expression. I just love being anywhere surrounded by tens of thousands of people at the crack of dawn.) I noticed on Saturday that a cough I've been dealing with for about a month (allergy-related) had gotten worse, and now I had a sore throat to go with it. During our walk to the ferry on Sunday, it seemed to be even worse, but that just wasn't the time to worry about it! I decided to ignore it for the day since it wasn't terrible and make a doctor's appointment for when we got back home to see about getting an inhaler or allergy pills or something. Considering this happens every year, I was tired of dealing with it.
Everything started moving really fast once I got on the ferry. We were shuttled to Fort Wadsworth, I checked my bag at the UPS truck in my start village and the next thing I knew the cannon was firing (seriously, how cool is that? They start the race with a cannon and not a wimpy little gun) and a crowd of people were running across the Verrazano Bridge above me (it's really hard to see, but there are tons and tons of people running on that bridge).
The wave starts were great, and honestly, with 44,000+ people running, I don't see any other way to do it. <---- That is all that I could see as I was walking to the starting line. A sea of people and porta-potties. As soon as we turned the corner, though and saw the actual "start" line, the crowds lightened up and it was easier to move.
The course starts with a ~250 ft climb up the Verrazano Bridge, the steepest climb on the course, and I was glad it was in the first mile. It wasn't a hard hill by any means, considering the excitement of the race and the fact that I did all my long runs (15-20 miles) on hilly courses, but it was enough of a reminder that you've got a long way to go and not to kill yourself just yet. It was after getting to the top of this hill, and somewhere about halfway on the way down, that the entire right side of my body decided to revolt. About 2 1/2 miles into the race. It started with the plantar fasciitis in my foot, which had been flaring up for about a week, but had never bothered me during a run before and eventually travelled up into my right hip (also not weird, but it usually waits till after I'm done) and my lower back. I knew I'd be seeing the hubs and my dad at Mile 8 and again at 16, so I'd just ask them for some Tylenol then.
The crowds were indescribable. It was nothing like anything I'd
ever experienced before. I think I had a perma-grin on my face through Mile 18 just because the crowds were so amazing. The noise they made got to be too much at times. It blew my mind that people got up and out of their houses on a Sunday morning just to watch a bunch of crazies run by them. Bands were set up throughout the course and at one street corner you'd hear hard rock, and at the next you'd hear someone playing a cover of a Beatles song, while at the next, it'd be a Reggae band.
I eventually got to the Queensboro Bridge, linking Queens to Manhattan, at Miles 15-16 which I'd been warned was terrible. It's not quite the same incline as the first bridge, but it's a long, steady hill on a bridge inaccessible to spectators, so you're all alone. I've heard people describe it as the place where they've really questioned themselves and their ability to finish and I knew that I couldn't allow myself to get to that point that early in the race. By this point, my legs were feeling the work I was putting them through, but again, the incline wasn't too bad. It was easy to ignore everything going on around me and focus on all the training I'd done leading up to this - most of which was worse than what I was going through at that moment. Coming off the bridge, which is pretty quiet without the spectators, you burst onto the street in Manhattan and into the screaming crowds. It was amazing.
The rest of the race was really good. I missed the hubs and our dads (by this time, my father in law had joined up with them) at Mile 16 by mere minutes and expected them at 20, hopefully with my Tylenol for my foot/hip pain. 20 comes and goes and they're not there...I wasn't worried about any of this because I knew they were using the subways and were on their own, so I expected us to disconnect at some point. Finally, at Mile 22, I see the hubs and our dads in Harlem.
The end of the race is kind of a blur. I didn't really start falling apart until the last 4 miles or so, and even at that, I hesitate to call it "falling apart." It was harder once we got into Central Park, it seemed like it was hill after hill after hill, and even though I know they weren't steep, they were just at a very unwelcome time. When I got to Mile 25.5, I pulled off my headphones (I'd resorted to them around 22) and forced myself to run the last .7 miles to the finish line. People around me were screaming, crying, stopping to take pictures. It was the happiest group of people I'd ever seen. With Abba's "Dancing Queen" blaring from the speakers (my friends from many years ago will understand the significance), I finally stepped across the finish line.
After getting my medal, heat blanket and posing for a quick picture, I began the looong walk to claim my bag and exit the park. In all, after getting my bag and then going to meet the hubs and our dads, it was about an extra mile tacked on. Ouch. All I wanted to do was lie down! But it was all worth it when I was met by the hubs and a little blue Tiffany's box holding the necklace I had been unsuccessful in buying the day before at the expo. :) Between the walk to meet everyone and forcing myself to walk all over the city the rest of that night and the next morning, I can honestly say that I haven't been very sore. For Denver last year, I was severely sore for about a week.
To sum it up, this was an amazing race. I'd hoped to not repeat races so I can experience as many as possible, but I think this one may have to be a repeat. I know that I'm leaving out so much for the sake of not going on for hours and hours, and I'm a little out of it so I may come back to edit later. Which leads to this...that cough and sore throat? It turned out to be the beginnings of H1N1. Yep. Hooray. I've been camped out on my couch ever since we got home Monday night (it hit while we were traveling home). The hip thing comes and goes. I'm going to keep an eye on it because it's been around for a while now but it generally goes away on its own. I think my foot is going to require a follow up with the podiatrist. It feels good now, but it didn't feel good for a while.
Overall, I'm pretty pleased. It's not a PR but I'm not out there to win anything...this is all for fun and time doesn't matter as much to me as it does to other people. Yeah, I had a secret time goal that I didn't meet (no, I won't tell you what it was), and who knows...maybe if all these random pains/flu things weren't happening, maybe I'd have met it. But what makes me really proud is that 1) I ran way more than I did in Denver last year. I stuck with my 5 min run/1 min walk intervals until Mile 17.5, where I switched to 4 min/1 min and stuck with that pretty closely until the end. 2) My pace was really consistent. I don't set my watch up to show me my pace so I don't obsess about it, so I have no clue how I'm doing while I'm running. All I can see is elapsed time and distance, but I don't take the time to figure out my pace.
So, what's next? I'm not sure about Phoenix RnR. I just don't know if I have it in me for another marathon in 2 months (I think...ask me when I can get up off the couch without losing my breath). I have some friends going out to Long Beach to do that half in February, but it's not a good weekend for us. I'm trying to convince the hubs that Chicago would be a lovely trip for his birthday - which just happens to be in October. ;)
