** Please note this post includes some information pertaining to marathon running that concerns bodily functions- and lack there of in my case. It is a reality of endurance running that I feel people need to understand that race day is not all bling and finish line photos.**
Steph, Sissel and I were on a bus by 5:45 and on our way to the start line. We arrived about 6:30 am after crossing the Verazzano Narrows bridge. The bridge that begins the race.
We arrived to coffee, bagels, powerbars, and water for food and drink and Dunkin donuts hats to keep our heads warm. We found a spot on the ground where we would have to sit and wait for the next 4 hours. This pre race village was like nothing I had ever experienced at a race.
Wave 4 would set off after the 4th cannon at 10:55 am.
We took photos, ate food and made countless trips to the toilet. Then in the distance we could hear a bit of Frankie's "New York, New York". The first cannon went off at 9:40 signifying the start of the race. So exciting to hear it. Only two more to go and it would be our turn to head to the corrals.
As at anytime in life, and also when loading for endurance running, and taking on food from the early hours, one has to also attempt to get rid of it. This was a process that I tried and tried to do for 7 hours. Let's just say I carried all the food from the morning and dinner from the night before the whole 42.2 kms all the way to the finish line- and beyond. I had loo roll with me right up until I approached the start line in the vain hope that my body would co-operate and free me of a pound or two. Today was not that day so at the start I took my 2 Imodium which I had been delaying until I absolutely could not wait any longer. Not even 3 coffees could get things moving today. Toilet lines on race courses are long and cost valuable minutes. It's easier to take Imodium. Many people advise against it as they can cause dehydration. I have not had any issues. You will see from the photos that I carried a food pregnancy with me.
After wave 3 had left we had managed to move in to one of the runners tents. The wind was awful so the tent gave us a wind break.
About 20 minutes before we had to head to the corrals, I stood up and was in agony. For a brief moment I believed my race had ended before it had started. My left rear end was locked and I could be in trouble. Severe glute pain and what felt like pain in my facet joint. Could hardly walk.
It was a mad rush to stretch out that glute and within an inch of it's life.
Finally with the pain dulled and final pre race prep began. Couple of Voltaren to begin. I had worn spare shoes and socks to the start so it was time to change into race shoes and socks.
I'd gone with the purple runners.
Steph and I reapplied the body glide. There is no shame. Shirts up, skin out to get under bras. I'd reglided my legs in the loo. Chaffing is no ones friend. Body glide is everyone's friend.
On my last trip to the loo I found an early exit bracelet. A huge prize as it meant that I didn't have to walk 15 blocks in the wrong direction and then 15 blocks back at the end. It was a prize money could not buy. My Race organiser had selected baggage for me-I had asked for No baggage. No bracelet meant another 2 miles or so to my day.
10:10 am Our time had come. The corrals were open. However, can you believe, at one of the biggest races and one of the world majors, our corral was not sign posted. We found where we had to be eventually. I was calm. I'd done this before. I just wanted to get going. The last of the toilets passed me by as we walked to the beginning of the Verazzano Narrows bridge that would take us into Brooklyn.
I had a little cry as we approached the bridge. Sissel had flown from Greece to run with me. Steph had flown from Canada. It was an emotional day.
Frankie started singing and we were a just a short time away from starting the final leg of the journey we had begun many many months before.
It was the final long run.
And then at 10:55- the Wave 4 cannon went off.
Steph, Sissel and I crossed the start line within a few minutes. Those girls dragged me up that bridge at a pace of 8 min/km. The uphill kept going. At 1 km Steph took off to run her race. An arrangement that we had made long ago. Sissel and I had arranged to stay together as long as possible. Laurel Del Fuego from the Dashers caught up with us near the crest of the bridge. Sissel then dragged me down the bridge. I asked her not to tell me the pace. It's better not knowing until I have to take care of the pace myself.
As we entered Brooklyn, the continuous undulation of the course continued as it had began on the bridge. The trail through Brooklyn for Orange after 3 x 90 degree turns is a long long straight road.
The street numbers count down. I remember from about 94th. I'm sure I ran more than 70 blocks. I lost Sissel just before the 5 km drink station. I was not worried. I needed to pull my pace back slightly.
I had decided to break the race in to 5 km blocks and walk thru the drink stations and take gels then and Gatorade between gel stops. 5 kms came and went. 10 kms came and went. Was happy with pace and time. Weather was still good. Cloudy and about 10 degrees celcius. Perfect weather for me.
15 kms arrived and I was there in just over 2 hours. Was still in Brooklyn. The hills kept coming and going. Up, down, up down. In part of the course in Brooklyn, in Williamsburg, there are many Orthodox Jews. There were many out to watch- a majority thinking like most that we were nuts.
And the hills kept coming.
At 18 kms, race strategy changed for several reasons. My lungs were burning. I didn't care. I'd put up with this through the Melbourne Half. It was just that race distance again- twice.
At a point just after 18 kms I noticed my iPod had died. 24 kms to go and no music. It was time to change to Galloway intervals and use the crowds to get me along. There were enough people cheering and high fiving to keep me going. The crowds and bands for this race are like nothing I had ever experienced. I started with 2:00/1:00 and then decided that I would be better with 1:30/1:00 so I could go faster on the run.
Not long after the iPod crisis that I realised running had started things moving in the belly. I needed to stop to offload or stop the offload. I chose the latter. 1 last Immodium. 2 Advils for a chaser.
The third and final crisis- lost 2 bottles on the course. Left them there and decided to take on water/Gatorade alternating at every stop. I had been doing well with that already.
A quick refocus and I was back on track.
The Queensborough bridge was approaching. The hills kept coming. The undulation on this course was endless.
The approach to the Queensborough Bridge is a huge incline thru 13.1 miles- where they actually ask you to slow down. At half mara distance I had picked up 300m on the Garmin. I had to get rid of this. Extra distance is caused by weaving around other runners and taking outer edges of bends. The focus needed to switch to a straighter path and the inner trail if corners.
Half way and a great photo stop and then a downhill into the uphill of the Queensborough Bridge. The bridge that never seems to stop going up.
And then through of the silence of the bridge I saw a shirt- with a cow on it. I was sure it was another Dungog Dasher. I'd seen that shirt on my group. I called out -" is that a Dungog Dasher?". It boomed thru the silence on the bridge. And it was a Dasher. It was Becca Heath Fitzgerald. The photo is hideous but was lovely to catch someone from my group.
And as the bridge finally became down hill- I rounded the corner and came on to First Avenue. The crowds were plentiful and loud. Still- after all these hours they were there. A far cry from Paris, where the was barely anyone around. It's a long straight road up to the Bronx.
And the hills keep coming.
The gel stop was welcome to collect some different flavors.
Red Berry Blast was wearing a bit thin. So collected some Orange and some pomegranate.
17 miles done. 9 miles to go.
At 31 kms, I lost satellite reception in an area with no interference. However, prior to that at 30 I had noticed I had shaved off the extra distance I had gained previously. At the 30 km timing mat, my Garmin agreed and I had come in 2 mins under my Paris 30 kms and completed my fastest 30 kms time ever at 4:13. Interestingly at this point I thought to myself- in 12 kms this will all be over- I'm not sure I'm ready for it to be over. Can you imagine a thought like that entering your head when everything is burning, you have been short of air for 8 miles and there is still 8 miles to go?
It was over the bridge and into the Bronx.
Photos stopped as I no longer really had the physical and mental capacity to unzip the pouch, remove phone safely, replace phone safely and rezip pouch.
It was 150% focus on not slowing down and running fast during the runs and keeping the walks at less than 8:40min/km if possible.
And the hills kept on coming.
Another point was that the drink stops were in the runs so had to collect drink, squeeze cup and get onto a walk to get it down without choking. I had been taking on gels every few kms now. I had nothing left. They had started giving out bananas which made the course dangerous when people drop the skins and it mixes in with gels, water and Gatorade.
So while the drinks stops were in the runs, I had to go slowly through to avoid falling over.
Out of the Bronx and back on to Manhattan. The long straight road back to 59th. 70 odd blocks- uphill.
Mentally and physically spent but knowing a PB was well within my grasp I pushed on.
I had one chance. I couldn't tank now. Pain is temporary, glory is forever.
I thought I was pacing for about 5:52 but was actually a little slower. All I wanted was 5:59:59. A sub 6 hour marathon and 6 mins better than Paris.
And the crowds were still there.
And the hills kept coming.
I wanted into that park. Getting in to that park meant that I was nearly done.
Arriving into that park was a relief. There was a bit of downhill, and then the hills returned. I felt like I was going slow but legs were still moving fast on the runs.
At 25 miles, emotions got the better of me for a few seconds but as that affects my breathing which is already compromised (but even) I had to recompose. My lungs were on fire. I really had hardly any air.
Ventolin had been sucked back at every mile for the last 10 or so miles. Whether it was working or not- it's a comfort.
At 59th and 5th, I exited the park. This was it. Less than a mile to go. Not much air and it was again uphill. The sun had set 30 mins ago, it was getting dark but the crowds remained. Having walked the finish line twice, when I rounded into the park all I was looking for was the 400m to go sign. The equivalent of 1 lap of a track. Walk breaks went by the wayside as I re-entered the park with about 600m to go. I was going to run to the finish.
The chute- like most of the race- UPHILL.
200m to go and the finish line in sight.
At 100m Mum was in the Grandstand cheering.
Everything burning like a mofo, I ran across that line.
A little over 14 hours since I got up, it was over.
9 months, 6 days and a mere 5 hours and 56 minutes since I had put on my trainers for the first time to train for this race and set out for a 2 km run to start from zero again- I was a NY Marathon finisher.
5:56:12 is the official time.
PB by 9 minutes.
And the shoes- Purple
Thank you to Tim Campany for taking the screen shot below of me crossing the line.
The ubiquitous Garmin shot.
The Bling
Post race:
It's dark and cold so they give you a heat sheet. Let me tell you- that is warm.
After crossing the line, you hunt down that medal. It's the biggest prize.
They take a photo with your medal on. I'm waiting for that to show up in my official photos.
The early exit bracelet meant I could get out at 77th. I got a fleece lined poncho. It was amazing and warm. I would not have got this without finding that bracelet.
At 72nd I got on the subway back to the hotel. Feet were absolutely caning.
Just before the hotel front door, Sissel caught up with me. She had come in 11 mins prior to me. We had finished.
Sissel and I had been messaging each other daily supporting each other for months. We had met in Paris. It was our second marathon. I dare say it might not be our last.
An amazing day.
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