Tuesday, November 07, 2006
New York Marathon Recap
Well, the 2006 New York City Marathon is complete. I’m back on the ground in Houston after a four-day adventure in the greatest city in the world.
Thanks to everyone who called, emailed, or sent text messages wishing good luck or asking about the race. Without your thoughts and support, I would not have been able to complete this adventure on running’s biggest day. I figured this forum was as good as any to share some thoughts about the race for fellow runners and my other peer groups, friends, and family.
It’s been a while since I wrote in the blog, so I’ll start from the beginning.
In 2005, I applied online for the New York City Marathon (heretofore known as the NYC marathon – cheap legal reference courtesy of Scott Kelly). I wasn’t selected, but decided I’d apply every year until my name was selected. After four years of applying, a runner is guaranteed entry. I figured my name would come up in 2008, as my marathon times are mediocre compared to some of the better-trained weekend warriors in my peer groups.
However, in June, I got the email from the New York Road Runners Club that I was selected to run the race on November 5. It was a thrill just to get selected. I was already in shape, having completed the Madison (Wis.) Half-Marathon on Memorial Day Weekend. The temperatures in Wisconsin that weekend were extremely warm for the season – records, in fact. Based on my finishing time and endurance, I knew I could finish NYC without much worry, but it was time to get in shape for the biggest race in the world.
I started hitting the road in Houston to train for the marathon. I knew my friends at KatyFit would be starting their training program in July, so I marked my calendar for then and completed some longer runs in June and over the 4th of July Holiday.
Then, the heat and humidity hit me.
Houston in the summer is legendary and I decided training for a PR in the NYC Marathon would be almost impossible with the heat, humidity, work schedule, and timing – less than 3 months ‘til race day. By making that decision, I put a lesser importance on the time in NYC and more emphasis on the enjoyment of the run. I set Houston (or New Orleans) as a goal race and began to view NYC as a long training run and maybe the world’s greatest fun run. In the end, I hit both a PR and enjoyed the route.
Instead of a long narrative about my experiences leading up to the race and then on the course, I’m going to switch to a stream-of-conscience style, as the entire event is very overwhelming on the senses. I’m sure I’ll leave some thoughts out as I complete this blog entry, but I’ve got one last day of vacation and I’m enjoying every minute of not checking the Cox Radio email address or answering the phone unless absolutely necessary.
Jennifer and I flew into LaGuardia on Friday night (11/3). We arrived around 4 p.m. and jumped in a cab to our hotel in the Bay Ridge neighborhood of Brooklyn. I gave the cab driver the address of our hotel and he provided me with a blank stare. Great, I thought, here we go again. The last time I took a cab was in Atlanta and it was Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride. However, after a couple wrong turns, our cab driver located the hotel.
We found our room, put our bags up, and flipped on the TV. We found WNBC-TV, the official TV home of the NYC Marathon and the only WNBC left on the AM/FM/VHF dial and I’ll never be able to say WNBC without the placing an emphasis on the “N” (Howard Stern’s Private Parts reference).
We were meeting my father at the hotel on Saturday to head to Manhattan for packet pick-up, but Jen and I decided we needed to hit Manhattan on Friday night for a little Italian food. I’m a big believer in that the Friday before a Sunday race is more important than the Saturday night. In other words, carb-load on Friday night. And, make sure a good night’s sleep can be had the second night prior to the marathon than on the eve of the race. With that in mind, Jen and I jumped on a subway (two blocks from our hotel) and headed for Little Italy.
I’ve been to New York a number of times throughout the years and am very comfortable on the subway. It’s safe, clean, and can get you anywhere you need to go. It’s a model of mass transit for the developed and developing world. However, when I jumped off the train on Canal Street in Manhattan with my wonderful wife (who’s been to New York a number of times also, but never Little Italy), she looked at me and said, “I think we’re in Chinatown.” I laughed to myself and said to give me a block or two. After a short walk, we began to get the olfactory sensations of lasagna and ravioli. Mulberry Street was within site. For those familiar with New York, understand the irony.
We decided on a restaurant and dined. The first picture we saw in the restaurant was the owner with Opie and Anthony. Maybe it was my kind of place. Various other famous people we scattered throughout the walls. The atmosphere was great. Now, I’m not a food critic, but the food was fair and the service was terrible.
It also confirmed in my mind that food in the Midwest and the Northeast lacks the flair and style of food in the Southwest. Presentation isn’t as important in those regions as it is in Texas or the West. Yes, I’m politely saying the food in the Midwest and the Northeast is plain compared to food in Texas. That’s my belief and I’m sticking to it. This was also confirmed by visits to two local restaurants in Brooklyn. The food was good and the atmosphere was excellent at these stops, but the flair was lacking (and this is by no means an Office Space reference).
Jen and I finished our meal, grabbed a cannoli on the street and headed to the subway.
Saturday morning arrived and so did my father. We left our bags in Brooklyn and headed back to Manhattan for packet pick-up and lunch. We arrived at the Javits Center for packet pick-up and found a well-oiled machine. We were quickly passed off to our appropriate color group (more on that later) and grabbed our number and timing chip. Then, it was T-shirt pick-up and for this race - a nice technical shirt with long sleeves. I guess when the entry fee is greater than $100 American, a technical shirt can be provided.
The expo was the mother of all race expos. It had all the shoe companies including Mizuno (my brand), Nike, and Asics – the official sponsor. We walked away with more Powerbars, Marathon bars, and mixes than we’ll use in the next six months.
As with almost no other marathon operations, packet pick-up and the expo was a very well oiled machine – organized, structured, and very choreographed. Race day was the same day. It was almost a military operation, according to Al Trautwig, who anchored the marathon coverage. I heard most of the coverage on my Walkman as it as an AM/FM/VHF receiver and I was able to tune-in the pre-race soundtrack on WNBC-TV.
After a sightseeing trip to the Top of the Rock (my father enjoyed this because my mother is acrophobic) and lunch at a real New York pizza place (near Herald Square), it was off to the ESPN Zone in Times Square to catch up on college football before heading back to Brooklyn. Walking around Manhattan was probably not the best pre-race activity, but when you’re in New York, take advantage of everything around you.
Our hotel in Brooklyn was at the 5K mark of the race. It was great for my wife and father as spectators. They watched the live race coverage on TV and then could walk out to the sidewalk and see the runners live. For me, it became a logistical nightmare. I needed to get across the Verranzo Bridge by 7 a.m. for the 10 a.m. start. Buses to the start ran from only Manhattan. It meant either catching a city bus across the bridge or taking a car service. I opted for the car service. It turned out to be an expensive 3-mile ride ($45), but hearing the NYPD officer yell at the driver in his Brooklyn accent made it worth the money. The driver stopped where he shouldn’t have raising the ire of the cop. I threw my money at him and ran to the entrance. I let the driver deal with the Det. Sipowicz wannabe.
After waking up at 3:30 a.m. without an alarm on Sunday morning, I made it to the start of the race. I found my area in the orange group. Being orange meant that I started on the top of the bridge. Over-hydrated runners urinate on runners on the lower deck – not knowingly of course. It pays to be in shape because the slower runners get the bottom of the bridge.
I had about four hours to kill before the race. I read two magazines and dumped them in the trash. I ate breakfast, drank water, and stretched. I also peed in the world’s longest urinal – which was a distinct advantage for men over women.
Being a media junkie, I also checked out the WNBC-TV4 live broadcast and snooped on their set-up. There is such an allure of working in New York, but doing a live broadcast is no different in New York than it is in Houston, Austin, Boise, Milwaukee, or Madison. There are just more people that can watch or listen.
The start was a little daunting. What should I wear? How cold would it be? Jen and I had cleaned out our closets in January 2006 and taken six garbage bags of clothes to the Purple Heart folks. That left my closet a little empty. I needed some discard clothes. In my promotion/marketing director days, this was easy. I grabbed a movie sweatshirt out of the closet prior to a big race. That’s what I did for Chicago in 2005.
Now, our promotion director had no promo sweatshirts. I was going to have to improvise. I found an old knit poncho purchased in Mexico and wore that for warmth. I also layered a couple of old flannel shirts. If I left these on the course, Jennifer would be very happy. As the sun came up over Long Island and we stood on the bridge to start the race, I started dropping the clothes. Somewhere, a homeless person in the New York area has a stylish red and white poncho. If I didn’t drop it Sunday, it would have made its way to the Goodwill pile in the next couple years.
After a four-hour wait, it was time to head to the bridge to start the race. I was near people of my own ability. We talked about strategy and college football before the race. One of the best things I did for the race was to wear a Texas Longhorns burnt orange T-shirt. It was easy for people to yell for me. Instead of trying to read my name, they could see the color and the Texas emblem then shout “Go Texas.”
As a proud graduate of the University of Wisconsin, it was hard not to wear a Bucky T-shirt. But until the current chancellor is removed from office for letting the institution slip in the national ratings and fighting battles that don’t need to be fought, I’m not giving Bucky any free publicity. Full disclosure – I did wear a knit hat with a Wisconsin logo, bit that was not as visible. It simply covered my ears from the wind.
Crossing the bridge was great. Frank Sinatra was singing in the background. Six helicopters floated above the bridge. Manhattan was in view. So was the Statue of Liberty. And 39,000 runners were packed into one large pack, shedding clothes and screaming. There was more adrenaline on the bridge than anywhere I’ve ever been including a college fraternity house and a Las Vegas casino.
We ran across the bridge and that’s where the race started. Mile 1 is on the bridge. It was very slow. I could reach out and touch someone the entire race. I couldn’t get a stride until mile 4. I was busy trying not to get run over or tripped. Even when that was happening, I still ran into a construction barrel on the 59th Street Bridge, an uneven manhole in Williamsburg, and 7 or 8 runners throughout the course. Crowded is an understatement. It was like running with the entire crowd at Minute Maid Park following a Roger Clemens pitching appearance. Runners were everywhere – left, right, forward, back, diagonal.
And, a bigger challenge was the language barrier. In past marathons in Houston, Austin, San Antonio, New Orleans, Chicago, or Madison, a simple "on your left" was understood. In the NYC Marathon, there were so many languages spoken that sometimes German, Italian, Chinese, or Arabic were the only languages understood by other runners. That meant some bump drafting (yes, a NASCAR reference).
The water stations were also tough to navigate. I decided on Saturday night as I tried to fall asleep that I’d walk all the water stations. This proved to be a good strategy as the concrete and pavement was soaked at each station with Gatorade and discarded cups. I saw people slip, fall, and tumble into each other at the water stations. By walking the water stations, I probably saved myself a fall or two.
For as crowded as the course was with runners, the spectators were awesome. The streets were lined with at least one person in every mile. Sometimes the crowds were five or six deep. They cheered for you as if you worked with them in Brooklyn, the Bronx, or Manhattan. The crowds were truly inspirational. Including my own fan club.
Jen and my father saw me at mile three. By selecting a hotel on the route, I was able to make a necessary pit stop. It added four minutes to my official time, but allowed my to not sit in a port-a-pot. For this, I give our trip planning an A. After passing my fan club, I hit a stride for the long stretch of Fourth Avenue in Brooklyn. I went from a 14 minute pace to a nine-minute pace at some points.
Then, the blue and orange routes merged at mile 8. Again, it was a crowd and a slow pace. You’re trying not to step on anyone. The course again merged with the green near the 59th Street Bridge, again slowing everything down.
After crossing the bridge into Manhattan, I saw my fan club again at 68th Street while I was headed to the Bronx. They also appeared at mile 25 in Central Park. Knowing they were on the course was a big inspiration.
I reached the final 800 meters to go with little energy. But, I also knew what it was like to run an 800 with little energy. This is where I turned it on. I knew I could set a PR and I did – by 59 seconds.
I reached three of five goals - that's the salesperson in me.
I finished. That’s goal #1 for any race.
Goal #2 was to have my name in the New York Times. To do that, I needed to finish less than 5 hours on the official clock. I accomplished that.
And, I set a PR.
I wanted to finish in less that 4:20 and that can be accomplished in Houston or New Orleans next year.
A four-hour marathon is also within sight. I need to keep pounding it out and finishing in New York will continue that inspiration.
I wouldn’t have made it through the course without the help of friends and family who texted, emailed, called, and asked about my training. If I listed names, I’d leave somebody out. You know who you are and to each of you I say thanks.
To Jennifer and my father who showed up in New York to make this possible, I’m forever grateful. Without knowing that you’d be along the course, it would have been difficult to continue. Thanks to the power of text, I was able to track their location and find them because finding a runner is like finding a needle in a haystack.
I’ll probably write more at another time, but this is a start. I think I’ve missed a mention of the celebrities in the race, although I did beat Gov. Huckabee of Arkansas. I could talk forever about the neighborhoods, especially Bay Ridge, Williamsburg, and Central Park. I missed a mention about our Monday trip to Coney Island and the sense of appreciation it gives you for history.
As Jen and I waited for our delayed flight from LaGuardia on Monday (because of storms in Houston), I decided I’d sign up for the lottery in 2007. Why not? I’ve been through it once and have really come to believe that the New York City Marathon is the greatest sporting event in the world. It’s not about professional athletes getting paid millions of dollars. It’s about millions of people cheering for the everyday athlete and weekend warrior. It’s about you and me accomplishing a goal of personal fitness, growth, and achievement. It’s something that all of us can do and that’s why it’s special.
-30-
Thanks to everyone who called, emailed, or sent text messages wishing good luck or asking about the race. Without your thoughts and support, I would not have been able to complete this adventure on running’s biggest day. I figured this forum was as good as any to share some thoughts about the race for fellow runners and my other peer groups, friends, and family.
It’s been a while since I wrote in the blog, so I’ll start from the beginning.
In 2005, I applied online for the New York City Marathon (heretofore known as the NYC marathon – cheap legal reference courtesy of Scott Kelly). I wasn’t selected, but decided I’d apply every year until my name was selected. After four years of applying, a runner is guaranteed entry. I figured my name would come up in 2008, as my marathon times are mediocre compared to some of the better-trained weekend warriors in my peer groups.
However, in June, I got the email from the New York Road Runners Club that I was selected to run the race on November 5. It was a thrill just to get selected. I was already in shape, having completed the Madison (Wis.) Half-Marathon on Memorial Day Weekend. The temperatures in Wisconsin that weekend were extremely warm for the season – records, in fact. Based on my finishing time and endurance, I knew I could finish NYC without much worry, but it was time to get in shape for the biggest race in the world.
I started hitting the road in Houston to train for the marathon. I knew my friends at KatyFit would be starting their training program in July, so I marked my calendar for then and completed some longer runs in June and over the 4th of July Holiday.
Then, the heat and humidity hit me.
Houston in the summer is legendary and I decided training for a PR in the NYC Marathon would be almost impossible with the heat, humidity, work schedule, and timing – less than 3 months ‘til race day. By making that decision, I put a lesser importance on the time in NYC and more emphasis on the enjoyment of the run. I set Houston (or New Orleans) as a goal race and began to view NYC as a long training run and maybe the world’s greatest fun run. In the end, I hit both a PR and enjoyed the route.
Instead of a long narrative about my experiences leading up to the race and then on the course, I’m going to switch to a stream-of-conscience style, as the entire event is very overwhelming on the senses. I’m sure I’ll leave some thoughts out as I complete this blog entry, but I’ve got one last day of vacation and I’m enjoying every minute of not checking the Cox Radio email address or answering the phone unless absolutely necessary.
Jennifer and I flew into LaGuardia on Friday night (11/3). We arrived around 4 p.m. and jumped in a cab to our hotel in the Bay Ridge neighborhood of Brooklyn. I gave the cab driver the address of our hotel and he provided me with a blank stare. Great, I thought, here we go again. The last time I took a cab was in Atlanta and it was Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride. However, after a couple wrong turns, our cab driver located the hotel.
We found our room, put our bags up, and flipped on the TV. We found WNBC-TV, the official TV home of the NYC Marathon and the only WNBC left on the AM/FM/VHF dial and I’ll never be able to say WNBC without the placing an emphasis on the “N” (Howard Stern’s Private Parts reference).
We were meeting my father at the hotel on Saturday to head to Manhattan for packet pick-up, but Jen and I decided we needed to hit Manhattan on Friday night for a little Italian food. I’m a big believer in that the Friday before a Sunday race is more important than the Saturday night. In other words, carb-load on Friday night. And, make sure a good night’s sleep can be had the second night prior to the marathon than on the eve of the race. With that in mind, Jen and I jumped on a subway (two blocks from our hotel) and headed for Little Italy.
I’ve been to New York a number of times throughout the years and am very comfortable on the subway. It’s safe, clean, and can get you anywhere you need to go. It’s a model of mass transit for the developed and developing world. However, when I jumped off the train on Canal Street in Manhattan with my wonderful wife (who’s been to New York a number of times also, but never Little Italy), she looked at me and said, “I think we’re in Chinatown.” I laughed to myself and said to give me a block or two. After a short walk, we began to get the olfactory sensations of lasagna and ravioli. Mulberry Street was within site. For those familiar with New York, understand the irony.
We decided on a restaurant and dined. The first picture we saw in the restaurant was the owner with Opie and Anthony. Maybe it was my kind of place. Various other famous people we scattered throughout the walls. The atmosphere was great. Now, I’m not a food critic, but the food was fair and the service was terrible.
It also confirmed in my mind that food in the Midwest and the Northeast lacks the flair and style of food in the Southwest. Presentation isn’t as important in those regions as it is in Texas or the West. Yes, I’m politely saying the food in the Midwest and the Northeast is plain compared to food in Texas. That’s my belief and I’m sticking to it. This was also confirmed by visits to two local restaurants in Brooklyn. The food was good and the atmosphere was excellent at these stops, but the flair was lacking (and this is by no means an Office Space reference).
Jen and I finished our meal, grabbed a cannoli on the street and headed to the subway.
Saturday morning arrived and so did my father. We left our bags in Brooklyn and headed back to Manhattan for packet pick-up and lunch. We arrived at the Javits Center for packet pick-up and found a well-oiled machine. We were quickly passed off to our appropriate color group (more on that later) and grabbed our number and timing chip. Then, it was T-shirt pick-up and for this race - a nice technical shirt with long sleeves. I guess when the entry fee is greater than $100 American, a technical shirt can be provided.
The expo was the mother of all race expos. It had all the shoe companies including Mizuno (my brand), Nike, and Asics – the official sponsor. We walked away with more Powerbars, Marathon bars, and mixes than we’ll use in the next six months.
As with almost no other marathon operations, packet pick-up and the expo was a very well oiled machine – organized, structured, and very choreographed. Race day was the same day. It was almost a military operation, according to Al Trautwig, who anchored the marathon coverage. I heard most of the coverage on my Walkman as it as an AM/FM/VHF receiver and I was able to tune-in the pre-race soundtrack on WNBC-TV.
After a sightseeing trip to the Top of the Rock (my father enjoyed this because my mother is acrophobic) and lunch at a real New York pizza place (near Herald Square), it was off to the ESPN Zone in Times Square to catch up on college football before heading back to Brooklyn. Walking around Manhattan was probably not the best pre-race activity, but when you’re in New York, take advantage of everything around you.
Our hotel in Brooklyn was at the 5K mark of the race. It was great for my wife and father as spectators. They watched the live race coverage on TV and then could walk out to the sidewalk and see the runners live. For me, it became a logistical nightmare. I needed to get across the Verranzo Bridge by 7 a.m. for the 10 a.m. start. Buses to the start ran from only Manhattan. It meant either catching a city bus across the bridge or taking a car service. I opted for the car service. It turned out to be an expensive 3-mile ride ($45), but hearing the NYPD officer yell at the driver in his Brooklyn accent made it worth the money. The driver stopped where he shouldn’t have raising the ire of the cop. I threw my money at him and ran to the entrance. I let the driver deal with the Det. Sipowicz wannabe.
After waking up at 3:30 a.m. without an alarm on Sunday morning, I made it to the start of the race. I found my area in the orange group. Being orange meant that I started on the top of the bridge. Over-hydrated runners urinate on runners on the lower deck – not knowingly of course. It pays to be in shape because the slower runners get the bottom of the bridge.
I had about four hours to kill before the race. I read two magazines and dumped them in the trash. I ate breakfast, drank water, and stretched. I also peed in the world’s longest urinal – which was a distinct advantage for men over women.
Being a media junkie, I also checked out the WNBC-TV4 live broadcast and snooped on their set-up. There is such an allure of working in New York, but doing a live broadcast is no different in New York than it is in Houston, Austin, Boise, Milwaukee, or Madison. There are just more people that can watch or listen.
The start was a little daunting. What should I wear? How cold would it be? Jen and I had cleaned out our closets in January 2006 and taken six garbage bags of clothes to the Purple Heart folks. That left my closet a little empty. I needed some discard clothes. In my promotion/marketing director days, this was easy. I grabbed a movie sweatshirt out of the closet prior to a big race. That’s what I did for Chicago in 2005.
Now, our promotion director had no promo sweatshirts. I was going to have to improvise. I found an old knit poncho purchased in Mexico and wore that for warmth. I also layered a couple of old flannel shirts. If I left these on the course, Jennifer would be very happy. As the sun came up over Long Island and we stood on the bridge to start the race, I started dropping the clothes. Somewhere, a homeless person in the New York area has a stylish red and white poncho. If I didn’t drop it Sunday, it would have made its way to the Goodwill pile in the next couple years.
After a four-hour wait, it was time to head to the bridge to start the race. I was near people of my own ability. We talked about strategy and college football before the race. One of the best things I did for the race was to wear a Texas Longhorns burnt orange T-shirt. It was easy for people to yell for me. Instead of trying to read my name, they could see the color and the Texas emblem then shout “Go Texas.”
As a proud graduate of the University of Wisconsin, it was hard not to wear a Bucky T-shirt. But until the current chancellor is removed from office for letting the institution slip in the national ratings and fighting battles that don’t need to be fought, I’m not giving Bucky any free publicity. Full disclosure – I did wear a knit hat with a Wisconsin logo, bit that was not as visible. It simply covered my ears from the wind.
Crossing the bridge was great. Frank Sinatra was singing in the background. Six helicopters floated above the bridge. Manhattan was in view. So was the Statue of Liberty. And 39,000 runners were packed into one large pack, shedding clothes and screaming. There was more adrenaline on the bridge than anywhere I’ve ever been including a college fraternity house and a Las Vegas casino.
We ran across the bridge and that’s where the race started. Mile 1 is on the bridge. It was very slow. I could reach out and touch someone the entire race. I couldn’t get a stride until mile 4. I was busy trying not to get run over or tripped. Even when that was happening, I still ran into a construction barrel on the 59th Street Bridge, an uneven manhole in Williamsburg, and 7 or 8 runners throughout the course. Crowded is an understatement. It was like running with the entire crowd at Minute Maid Park following a Roger Clemens pitching appearance. Runners were everywhere – left, right, forward, back, diagonal.
And, a bigger challenge was the language barrier. In past marathons in Houston, Austin, San Antonio, New Orleans, Chicago, or Madison, a simple "on your left" was understood. In the NYC Marathon, there were so many languages spoken that sometimes German, Italian, Chinese, or Arabic were the only languages understood by other runners. That meant some bump drafting (yes, a NASCAR reference).
The water stations were also tough to navigate. I decided on Saturday night as I tried to fall asleep that I’d walk all the water stations. This proved to be a good strategy as the concrete and pavement was soaked at each station with Gatorade and discarded cups. I saw people slip, fall, and tumble into each other at the water stations. By walking the water stations, I probably saved myself a fall or two.
For as crowded as the course was with runners, the spectators were awesome. The streets were lined with at least one person in every mile. Sometimes the crowds were five or six deep. They cheered for you as if you worked with them in Brooklyn, the Bronx, or Manhattan. The crowds were truly inspirational. Including my own fan club.
Jen and my father saw me at mile three. By selecting a hotel on the route, I was able to make a necessary pit stop. It added four minutes to my official time, but allowed my to not sit in a port-a-pot. For this, I give our trip planning an A. After passing my fan club, I hit a stride for the long stretch of Fourth Avenue in Brooklyn. I went from a 14 minute pace to a nine-minute pace at some points.
Then, the blue and orange routes merged at mile 8. Again, it was a crowd and a slow pace. You’re trying not to step on anyone. The course again merged with the green near the 59th Street Bridge, again slowing everything down.
After crossing the bridge into Manhattan, I saw my fan club again at 68th Street while I was headed to the Bronx. They also appeared at mile 25 in Central Park. Knowing they were on the course was a big inspiration.
I reached the final 800 meters to go with little energy. But, I also knew what it was like to run an 800 with little energy. This is where I turned it on. I knew I could set a PR and I did – by 59 seconds.
I reached three of five goals - that's the salesperson in me.
I finished. That’s goal #1 for any race.
Goal #2 was to have my name in the New York Times. To do that, I needed to finish less than 5 hours on the official clock. I accomplished that.
And, I set a PR.
I wanted to finish in less that 4:20 and that can be accomplished in Houston or New Orleans next year.
A four-hour marathon is also within sight. I need to keep pounding it out and finishing in New York will continue that inspiration.
I wouldn’t have made it through the course without the help of friends and family who texted, emailed, called, and asked about my training. If I listed names, I’d leave somebody out. You know who you are and to each of you I say thanks.
To Jennifer and my father who showed up in New York to make this possible, I’m forever grateful. Without knowing that you’d be along the course, it would have been difficult to continue. Thanks to the power of text, I was able to track their location and find them because finding a runner is like finding a needle in a haystack.
I’ll probably write more at another time, but this is a start. I think I’ve missed a mention of the celebrities in the race, although I did beat Gov. Huckabee of Arkansas. I could talk forever about the neighborhoods, especially Bay Ridge, Williamsburg, and Central Park. I missed a mention about our Monday trip to Coney Island and the sense of appreciation it gives you for history.
As Jen and I waited for our delayed flight from LaGuardia on Monday (because of storms in Houston), I decided I’d sign up for the lottery in 2007. Why not? I’ve been through it once and have really come to believe that the New York City Marathon is the greatest sporting event in the world. It’s not about professional athletes getting paid millions of dollars. It’s about millions of people cheering for the everyday athlete and weekend warrior. It’s about you and me accomplishing a goal of personal fitness, growth, and achievement. It’s something that all of us can do and that’s why it’s special.
-30-
