Marathon day started and ended well. There were a few sketchy moments in between, but overall, it was a great day.
I met up with friends at 6AM for the trip to the start. Taking the ferry, as opposed to the bus as I have in the past, made this much later start possible. Combined with the extra hour from the time change, I was feeling well rested and ready to go.
The trip (subway, ferry, shuttle bus) went amazingly smoothly, but when the bus let us off outside of Fort Wadsworth, we found ourselves on foot, stuck in a huge, slow moving line. Still we got into the staging area at what seemed like an appropriate time, and we found a place to sit down and get organized.
Soon after, however, PL informed us that he had just heard over the PA that the corrals for the first wave were closed. We hadn't even checked our bags.
When I got to my corral, the entry was cordoned off, but a worker was checking bibs and letting folks duck under the cord to go in. Just as I stepped up she was saying that the she wasn't going to let anyone else in. I ducked under before she could finish her sentence. A lot of folks were behind me, and there was a lot of arguing, and folks were jumping the (8 foot) fence.
All was well, however, for those of us that were already in, so I just focused on relaxing and trying to put that moment of anxiety behind me.
Just then, DW tapped me on the shoulder, he and his cousin were right behind me in the corral. He was dressed as a cheerleader, and she as a football player. If you want to relax and get into the spirit of the event, these two are the folks you want to be with. By the time we were on the bridge and and ready to start, I was really enjoying the whole scene.
When the gun went off I stuck with my plan to run a slow first mile. It's the biggest hill in the course by far, but it's really hard to resist taking off. I was really happy when I saw that my 1 mile split was 8:25, and I told myself that there were plenty of miles in which to make up the time to get to my goal pace of 8:00.
And make up the time I did. In mile 2 (7:30). OK, that wasn't exactly the plan. But, I was on pace, and I had run the first mile slow. I decided to pat myself on the back and move on. I put on the brakes for the next miles, but try as I might, I still kept coming in at under 8:00. I was averaging around 7:55 though, so I decided to accept it. It gave me a little buffer for later.
I felt like I had the brakes on for the first 10 miles or so before the pace felt comfortable. I felt like I could run so much faster, but I knew how upset I would be if I went out fast and hit the wall again.
Near the 59th street bridge, I spotted DW2 (yes, this story has two DWs). We had run a 22 miler together in training, and it was great to see her looking really strong in her first marathon. Just after that, I saw AH on the bridge. It amazes me that in a race of 40,000, you can just bump into folks you know.
Coming off the 59th street bridge, I remember the other promise that I made to myself -- to take the steep downhill off the bridge at a slow pace and try not to abuse the quads. This is a famous place to take off, as the silence of the bridge gives way to the loudest crowds on the course.
Once again, however, my discipline was limited. As soon as I got off the hill and in front of the 1rst Avenue crowds, a began to speed up. Part of the reason for this burst of energy was the gradual realization that I wasn't going to hit the wall. Mile 18 was my fastest of the race at 7:25.
Passing the Gel station manned by Flyers, I got another boost. Big cheers from JN (Mr. Boot Camp), and RJ, in from Seattle to support the gang. I also saw JJ, who had to drop out due to a sprained ankle. Instead of staying home and sulking, he was out handing out gels.
As I navigated the rough roads and turns of the Bronx, I was starting to feel the miles in my legs, but psychologically, I was over the hump. I could tell that it was my day.
I had often wondered what the 5th avenue hill would feel like if I was really trying to keep pace, as opposed to just keep going, and I was happy to find that it was not much of a problem at all. With each passing mile, my confidence grew, and my sore muscles mattered less.
On Central Park South, I was running strong and scanning the crowd for my family. I never saw them, although they saw me, I found out later.
As I approached the finish line, I had no interest in kicking. I was safely under my goal time, and sprinting up the hill just seemed silly. I crossed the line in 3:28:51, a huge PR, and for my age group, a BQ.
Steps from the finish, DW2 found me (she had finished 20 or 30 yards ahead). It was great to share the celebration with her, as she was as happy (at least) as I was.
We walked out together, performing the two phase NYC Marathon ritual of first cursing the race organizers for making us walk so far, and then realizing that it was a really good idea as our legs began to recover.
When I got out of the park, my wife and son were waiting for me :-)
Posts
