Marathon Day NYC 2011

34th street and 11th Ave, we step into the expo to get our race numbers. The energy and excitement of 45,000 runners fills us with a new buzz. Do we belong? Have we earned the right?. Our unconventional training seems scarily inadequate. There is no changing anything at this point so we push on, making our final preparations. Pick out race clothes, write name on shirt and pin on number, carb load, pack post race supplies, set alarm, sleep, morning strech, eat nervous breakfast, catch cab to Statin Island ferry.

There are runners in all shapes and sizes, other nervous breakfasts, muffin, monster brownie, egg sandwhich, ball caps and bandanas, lycra, living billboards with t-shirts fighting cancer and autism, tutus glued to running shorts. Bus to the starting line. Free coffee and bagels, no thanks- too much at stake. Bodies covering every inch of side walk and grass, sleeping bags to keep muscles warm.

We reluctantly strip off all warm clothes and send them to the finish line. Discussion again, how shall we run? Time does not matter- we want to believe this but it is hard. Head to the starting line. Star spangled banner, elite runners burst from starting block. Ten minute miles we agree, this should be our goal, at least for the first ten miles. Try to be fresh at the half.

Calculating splits from races clocks is too hard. We run trying to listen to our bodies. 2 million spectators spread out over 26.2 miles, hardly a moment without cheering. Brooklyn first.  “TJ you can do it”, “Julie, you got it baby” the effect of our names called by strangers on the sidelines is utterly uplifting. Music of all kinds, tiny hands held out for high fives, offerings of Halloween candy, orange slices and banana halves. We catch up with the runners aiming for a 3 hour and 50 min race time and settle in.

Mile 11, “ouch”, “oh no” a new but familiar pain shoots through my left knee quickly escalating to severe status. As I stop to asses the situation I am jostled by runners with too much momentum to stop. I wonder if this is the end. Can we walk 15 miles to the finish? Stretch, keep going, the pain is less but how long will this last. Mile 13, into Queens, still a long way to go, not quite as fresh as we had hoped.

Mile 16, bridge to Manhattan. Total lower body pain and the left knee is getting worse. I need to stop, I need to walk, squat, stretch.  Ten miles to the finish, my eyes get blurry thinking about it. TJ still feels good and starts cheering me on. First avenue is packed with spectators. I can no longer appreciate them. One foot in front of the other. Dig down deep.  Run through the pain. I pick out running goals in the distance. I think I can make it to the second bus stop. Frequent breaks to stretch. Walking hurts too so might as well keep running. “You can do it, I am so proud of you.” TJ is amazing.

Into the Bronx, keep going. Look for Jon and Katrina. One foot in front of the other. Stretch when the road widens. Run to the next water station, maybe a whole mile this time. Last bridge, Manhattan. The final push. TJ becomes more quiet as he starts to feel more pain himself. Dig down deep, one foot in front of the other. Bright fall leaves, the roar of the crowd. I feel some unseen support give me a boost. Just keep going. Into the park, walk the uphill. Run, there they are! Our family is waiting and cheering us on. We can do it. Push. One more walk. Turn the bend, 400 meters, 200 yards, we can see it. Grab hands, cross the finish. 4:11:49. Grace.

Shivering, groan, muscles shake. No relief, no room to sit down. Pick up bag, sit down, warm clothes, sigh. Turn phone on, texts, phone messages, we are overwhelmed. Five smiling faces meet us as we hobble out of the park. So much love and support. The day is capped off by burgers, fries and malt. Our prayers are answered beyond what we could have imagined.  

Marathon Training 2011

Exactly one year ago, we wandered into central park on a brisk Sunday afternoon and were met by cheering crowds and a sea of runners. The NYC 2010 marathon was in full effect and the momentum was contagious. Watching runners push through their last 2 miles for a victorious finish, we entertained the idea of running ourselves.

The pieces came together, a lottery spot, a cause to support, and a swipe of the credit card. For the first time ever we became morning runners. Starting July 4th weekend, 16 weeks before the anticipated event, we starting crossing off boxes on the Hal Higdon “Novice 2” training schedule. This entailed 3 short runs per week, one long run and a day of cross training. Our egos were a little puffed up and we thought of ourselves a little higher than “Novice 2” but realistically looking at our schedules decided it was all that we could commit to.  We wanted to do our best and achieve a good time.

Our first long run in central park (9 miles) took a little wind out of our sails. This was going to be harder than anticipated. Training runs from my marathon 10 years ago were a little rosier in my memory. We advanced slowly but surely. I had a toenail turn black after our 12 mile run, a sure sign of a dedicated runner.  We came up with plans for hydration and were fitted for new shoes at a local running store.  Our calculated splits on our long runs was a little less than a 9 min mile.  This was ok, but we both wished we were going faster. Couldn’t we do a little better?

The first sign that things might not go according to our plans occurred 8 weeks in.  We headed to Utah/Colorado for a 10 day vacation. My ironman triathalon watch which was less than a year old died the night before our trip after running in a heavy rain. Wasn’t that watch supposed to withstand submersion, let alone a little sloshing? In the flurry of our leaving NY our running shoes were left behind.  Buying new ones seemed out of the question as we had just forked out a small fortune for the ones at home. There would be no running. Rigorous hiking over the next two weeks would have to do.  

Our cardiovascular status was no worse for the wear upon picking back up on our training although some muscles whined a bit. Everything seemed on track until a few days later when TJ’s knee started hurting. It was a tiny twinge a first but quickly escalated. Our first long run back we made it through 15 miles. The knee starting complaining by mile 9. We pressed on but the pain came sooner and sooner as the days passed. By the next weekend we did not make it past 5 miles.

If we ignored the knee it was not likely to get better on its own. After prayer and discussion we decided to alter the remaining of our training to optimize the possibility of actually running the marathon at all. The new plan involved a week and a half of rest, twice daily stretching and strengthening, short runs 5 days a week and no more long runs. Amazingly, the pain was gone our second day back running but other injuries were soon to follow.  Lower back strain, neck spasm, incapacitating foot cramps and a rolled ankle.  We took turns with our injuries, each one leading to a short halt in training. Needless to say we had no idea how things would go on race day.

Our plan for training was to condition our heart, lungs and muscles to be able to run the marathon and measure our abilities. Ultimately what happened was very different.  We grew in discipline together but also in flexibility and communication. Morning prayers which were typically sleepy in bed became more vibrant along our runs. And through grace, with each injury and setback we felt less pressure to perform and more free to enjoy.