Every time I looked at the weather forecast I automatically reacted with an enthusiastic ‘Yes, Snow! Bring it!’ and decided no matter what the scenario, I was going to finish this half marathon. Nothing was going to hold me back unless the NYRR organizers decided to cancel the run.

A few days before the Manhattan Half Marathon I started reading “The Secret” by Rhonda Byrne.  (I’m a voracious reader because I spend a lot of time commuting for work.) I was deeply affected by the notion of the Law of Attraction and the tremendous power we have within our thoughts to project us onto various frequencies.

In preparation of this race and throughout the actual run, I thought a lot about what The Secret teaches about how to think positive. Thinking in negative terms will not be heard by the universe.  For example, as a runner if you think – “I won’t fall on the snow. I won’t get hurt.” – the universe doesn’t hear the negatives, only the positives.  Your thoughts will be interpreted as “I fall on the snow. I get hurt.” and thus attracting those events to you.

The night before the race there was a lot of chatter on the NYRR Facebook page about whether the race will be cancelled. Would anyone run in the snow? And plenty of negative talk about hating to run in the snow.  I put up my mental shield, closed my eyes and went to bed visualizing myself running through the snow, around the loops of Central Park, gliding up and down the rolling hills and finally crossing the finish line. I even visualized sipping slushy water and Gatorade at fluid stations.  I ran the race before I even crossed the start line so I knew I could do it.

Early in the dark of morning, my husband, who is also a passionate runner and signed up for this race, was concerned about traveling into the city and whether we could run in a snowstorm without getting hurt or freezing cold.  I told him I was confident we could do it. We just need to dress warmly (we had all the right gear), take it very slowly and carefully. Make the event fun, not a nuisance. Don’t focus on achieving a specific time. Just finish.  As it turns out, the organizers had the same idea and decided to turn the race into a Fun Run with no scores or official times.

When we opened the door to our house and walked to the car the dark chill was invigorating.  I just kept repeating to myself, “I will finish this run.”  The ride into the city was slippery and slow.  When we came out of the Battery Tunnel and drove up the Westside Highway there wasn’t a runner, let alone a dog-walker, in sight.  My mind wanted to drift into negative-land but I concentrated on countering with positive thoughts.

As we drove along Central Park West, getting near 63rd street, I finally saw one runner with a bib prancing over the snow into the park.  I felt a little relief.  Then as we drove a block more I saw a handful more runners jogging across the snow-covered street.  And soon there were at least 20 runners heading into the park for the race.  I felt motivated and excited to join them as soon as possible. The party was on!

We parked the car and lightly trotted into the park to the baggage check-in area.  There were about 2 inches of snow on the ground and the storm was just getting started.  In case you were wondering, NO the paths were not plowed.  The streets had barely been touched. Who was going to take time to plow and salt the walking paths of Central Park before an 8am race?

I quickly get a crash course on how to run on snow.  Woah, was it slippery and slow!  But I was doing it and so were lots of others around me. No one fell or wiped out or crashed.  Everyone was bouncing gently across the packed-down snow that kept on sprinkling on our running gear.  Turns out that there were many runners who showed up (i don’t know actual count but at least a thousand based on the snaking trail of racers).   It was an awesome feeling to be in that charged environment.

Off we start to lots of cheers and shouts of encouragement. We work our way around the bottom loop of Central Park and then up the east side.  We had to run 2 counterclockwise loops.  It was a lot of work just to take a step that could project your body forward.  My entire posture had to be re-adjusted. At first my ankles were a bit wobbly.  I had to watch for ice patches and keep to the fresh powdery snow with good traction.

My eyes had to adjust to all the whiteness to avoid feeling nauseous.  My hat and jacket were getting covered in a nice coating of snow that I had to shake off every so often.  My eye-lashes were frozen icicles that I had to keep wiping.  My breathing was also impacted because the snowflakes kept being sucked up my nose or into my mouth causing me to choke and get a chill at the same time.  Some might find these obstacles a complete turn-off to running; I loved every single moment of being confronted with new challenges.

Running thru a snowstorm

For the first several miles I kept expecting my feet would get wet and chilled.  It never happened.  Throughout the entire race I was always comfortable and warm. My face was chilled but it felt wonderful.  My hands were warm.  My body felt strong and light. Most important, my feet were warm and dry!  God bless the inventor of the Brooks Pure Cadence sneakers and my WigWam Ironman Socks (yes, socks are equally important as sneakers to a runner.).  I was very curious to see how my sneakers held up in snow or rain.  They remained perfect the entire run.

As we passed mile 3 my husband and I looked at each other in wonder… ah, only mile 3?  We had worked extremely hard to push along the course.  Every step was a subtle slide back so that it sort of felt like running on a treadmill if you didn’t concentrate on projecting your body forward.  So many times I could have let negative thoughts sweep over me.  Like when we passed mile 5 and the snow was a good 4″inches and covering most of the mile marker sign.

Central Park covered in snow is a magical vision.  I lost my bearings often because there was nothing but a milky whiteness surrounding me, covering all the buildings and paths.  The park was also very quiet and still except for the gentle movements of the runners.

There are many reasons I wanted to do this half-marathon but mainly it was because I wanted to prove to myself I could do something I’ve never done before as long as I set my mind to it.  Amazing challenges have come my way throughout my life and I have conquered them, worked through them, feeling stronger and better for it. But the challenge of running a marathon I have yet to accomplish.  This half marathon was one goal I set to keep me on track towards achieving a marathon.

One fear that had been nagging at me for months was the weather on the day of the NYC Marathon.  What if it rains? What if it’s freezing cold? What if it snows? All of which are possible in early Nov for NYC.  How can I prepare?

The Manhattan Half Marathon was my test. Now I know that the weather will only help me to finish the marathon, not hinder me.  I do not have a real-time goal… 4:30 hours would be very nice though.  It’s going to be my first one so I will just focus on finishing.

Weather will not stand in my way and I’m learning how to keep my mind from getting in my way.  If you put your mind to it, you can do it.  All these phrases can sound cliche` if you never actually tried putting them to good use.  But I did use them to push me across the finish line of this race. The power of positive thinking is where true strength can be found!

We finished the race in 2:30 minutes which is a few minutes slower than our average half marathon finish time.  Our average pace hovered around the 11 min per mile range.  With double the energy it required to take each step this race was as much a strength training experience as it was cardio.

As I approached the last mile I felt sad to see it all come to an end.  Once again, I wanted more and felt strong enough to keep going if I had to.  Give me a blizzard and I was ready to run straight through it! I think that’s a great way to end a race when your longterm goal is to run a marathon.

At the Finish Line of the Manhattan Half Marathon 2012

How did I get to this point?  Here’s the story of my first half marathon.

I ran my first Half Marathon in May 2011, the Brooklyn Half. It was a beautiful Spring day and my first time running 13.1 miles.   I ran that race with my Dad and sister.  My sister is a lot faster so I only saw her for hugs at the Start and Finish line.  My Dad, who is my running buddy,  stayed with me for a few miles in Prospect Park but then I gradually drifted away around mile 4.  He, being a very experienced runner, kept telling me to just follow my feet so I did just that.

I had no strategy or plan of attack. I was just focused on finishing.  I didn’t care about my pace. I didn’t care about my NYRR Account Profile and what race times would appear. Being a newbie to the racing community and entering it without any sense of competition my only real fear was that I would fall behind in the pack as everyone passed me and when I got to the finish line they would have already started packing up.  Back then I didn’t even feel I could call myself a runner even though I did run 3-5x a week mostly with my Dad.  I guess I just hadn’t caught my mind up to my body yet.

The Brooklyn Half was my second race.  The first race I ever ran was about 8 weeks earlier, the 15k Colon Cancer Challenge (March 2011).   For that race I was giddy with enthusiasm just over being a participant that it wasn’t until I looked at my time and ranking on my NYRR profile that I realized I was quite close to being the LAST one to finish!

Last?!  Oh, was that why as I came around mile 8 there were so few runners around me?  And why when I crossed the finish line – smiling, arms up like a champ – I felt like I had joined a party that had been going on for hours?  What did I know about running races?  Nada.  So the fact that during that 15k race there were merely 149 runners behind me was a smack on a pride I didn’t even know existed in me.

So my strategy for the Brooklyn Half was simple: Don’t Be Last.  I had this fear of running alone, watching every runner pass me by, as I struggled to get to the Coney Island finish line.

My Dad said the biggest mistake runners make is they start out too fast and then crash. He kept reminding me to take it easy and not get caught up in the rush because later on I will pass a lot of these runners who were flying by me.  Wise advice except it sort of messed with my head after knowing how I ranked in my last race. What if I go too slow?

Like a sign from God, as I was settling into the run around mile 5 there was a girl just up ahead of me wearing a T-shirt that read “DON’T BE LAST!”.  I took a moment to get a sense of my surroundings.  There were a lot of runners still behind me and I saw quite a few stopping on the sidelines at fluid stations or to stretch.  I suspected my Dad hadn’t passed me cause surely I would have seen him. So I calculated that there were at least 40 runners who will definitely be behind me.  Phew, I won’t be last and I won’t be alone in the end!

When we came out of running the two shady loops in Prospect Park and hit the sprawling, flat Ocean Parkway in a beating Spring sun my heart skipped a few beats in awe.  I was about to run up a highway ramp! Where are the cars? Do I need to look both ways?  Can my body do this?

There were all kinds of shapes, sizes and ages around me and ahead of me.  In the time it took to absorb this thought I was coming down the ramp onto the parkway, finding my strength from the pack of runners all around me.  If they are doing it, I can too.  And off we merged onto Ocean Parkway.

I thought, “So this might be how it feels running the NYC Marathon, running major roads and highways that are shutdown just for the runners.” I loved that sensation. That was the moment I actually decided I would one day do the marathon.  I may have been at Mile 8, not having even run 13.1 miles yet but that image of the Ocean Parkway leading the way to Coney Island sealed the deal for me.  I want to experience that kind of roadway all over NYC!  Give me the Verrazano Bridge, the BQE… I want to run the streets of my city.

The sensation of running an actual highway where cars zoom by was energizing. Passing traffic signs with speed limits and running through red-lights gave me a real charge. Of course I had trained on the streets in Staten Island plenty but I had to work around the bustle of traffic.  This time the roads were only for runners.  It was also one of the first warm days of Spring and the sun was beating hard so we all kept to the shade of the trees.  It felt great.

After I finished (2:31) and enjoyed a few bites of an apple we all gathered near the finish line straining to see my Dad come through.  About seventeen minutes later I spotted him in the distance and we started hooting and hollering like no one else around.  As he got closer, my sister and I busted back out on the course to help bring our Dad home.

A cute fact about Coney Island- my parent’s, who have been married 44 years, had their first date on the Parachute ride which is just to the right of the finish line.  Now another special memory was made in that same spot – finishing the Brooklyn Half Marathon with his two daughters and a smile across the finish!

Me and my sister bringing our 67yo Dad into the Finish Line!

Once again I had to face the challenge of those Central Park hills.  I find I actually prefer not to know much about the course and just tackle it as it comes.  Perhaps this is an approach I prefer just for Central Park because of the varying degrees of rolling hills.  So just when you think you’ve accomplished the 2 big hills, suddenly you’re on mile 5 and there comes Cat Hill, kicking your butt even though it’s not supposed to be much of anything compared to what you ran at mile 1 and 2.  Or maybe this is a naive novice approach?  Isn’t ignorance sometimes bliss?

Running is such a mind-game of personal puzzle pieces.  Not everyone’s piece fits in the same way to get a picture of the finish line.  Some pieces require water at mile 2, other’s need a sip of Gatorade at every fluid station while still other’s won’t drink till the finish.  Some prefer to start out in the front of the pack, other’s prefer to lay far back and enjoy the feeling of passing other runners as you build up speed each mile marker.   

I planned to run the first 3 miles kinda easy and then push hard for the last 3.  I sort of kept to that plan.  I had a friend join me for the run and I don’t train with her so her presence still impacted my strategy whether I realized it or not because now the puzzle pieces I was fitting together to make my perfect picture of crossing the finish line unintentionally became a duo effort.  Sometimes that was a really good thing when it meant more motivation and sometimes it just became an added level of decision-making to an already tricky jig-saw puzzle. 

By mile 5 we were really pushing up Cat Hill hard and then as we started down the hill I looked at my friend and said for about the fifth time – “Put it in cruise control to the finish!” – because when you go down a hill it should be just a free-flowing sensation with minimal effort or energy so that you can clear your mind and cleanse out your muscles and heavy-breathing from the challenge of going up the hill. 

We pass mile 6 and we have a point-3 to go.  That point NEVER came!  We started to hear the announcer and music but when I looked ahead I just kept seeing the snaking trail of the racers as though it was never end.  We are now passing speakers and a lot more runners that have finished and are eating their apples and bagels.  But still, we can’t see the finish line.  I can’t keep pushing at this fast pace of close to 9 min per mile.  My friend says “Where is it?! When is it gonna end?!” And then finally we see it just around the bend.

I finished the race feeling amazing and invigorated because I pushed myself harder than ever with an average pace of 9:54 but my per mile splits were a lot faster than I’ve ever done for a run of more than 5 miles.  I have never had a bad experience running a race.  Every one of them has been an incredible adventure and journey for me.  I always focus on the positives and little victories rather than anything negative. 

And yes, I absolutely did smile across the finish of my first 10k.

Let’s start with the wild notion of ultra-marathoning.  I had never heard of this type of running until a few months ago when I met a real, live Ultra-Marathoner at Paragon Sports store in Union Square, NYC.  I was buying a running jacket and wanted a salesperson that actually runs.  When I asked the guy “But do you run?” he smirked and said, “Yeah, I run.” So we started chatting and next thing you know he tells me he’s running the Knickerbocker race in Central Park that weekend which is a 60k!  I asked him how he trains and he says he JUST runs to and from work.  Well, where do you live? Assuming he would say in Harlem or Battery Park City.  Way out in Queens.  He runs around 15 miles in the morning and again at night!  HUH???!!!

The book Born To Run is just chock full of inspiring stories and all kinds of trivial and historic facts about running, coaches, races, sneakers, Mexican Indian tribe the Tarahumara and a whole bunch of super-hero type runners.  He talks about races that are 100 miles, through hills and rough trails!  And here I am focused on achieving my first marathon. 

There were so many lessons and tips to take away from this beautiful book but one point that stood out to me comes from the message of the title.  We were all born to run.  As children we run freely and joyfully, constantly. And somehow we lose that tick. But thousands of years ago running existed for our survival.  We stand upright and breath with 2 lungs BECAUSE we had to be able to run for extremely long distances in order to hunt for food.  No other animal has the ability to run for as long a distance as the human being. 

It is truly amazing to think just how far the mind and body can be taken if you allow your soul to soar.

He says the training should begin around 16-18 weeks from the marathon date so for me that will mean in June.  But that doesn’t mean I’m not already focusing on keeping a steady and consistent running schedule to keep my legs strong and endurance at its strongest level.   He suggests keeping a diary or a blog throughout your training.  Check! Already on it. 

This Saturday I’m running a lovely 10k NYRR race in Central Park.  My strategy is to run it for speedwork.  I’ve been trying to improve my pace this past year into the 9:30 – 10:00min pace range for runs over 5 miles. 

On Jan 21 I’m looking forward to running the Manhattan Half Marathon in Central Park.  For that one I just want to have a steady 10:30 pace which will be the same pace I had for the Staten Island Half, Grete’s Gallop and Queens Halfs in 2011.  Grete’s Gallop was also a half marathon in Central Park and it was, by far, the hardest course I have ever run.  The rolling hills were just that, rolling… and endless. Even the last 5 miles, up and down, up and down.  So my attitude is to just take it easy and focus on having fun and finishing.

Funny how I mentally go into races generally thinking I’ll take it easy and just push when I can, and cruise when I want, don’t overdo anything, just focus on finishing and having fun.  But then once I cross the Start Line the ‘Take It Easy’ strategy flies off with the breeze of a pack of runners and I’m suddenly pushing myself to pass one more ass.  The ‘Pass One More Ass’ strategy has really helped me go faster. 

My sister (also a runner on a similar journey as myself in planning to run her first marathon at the ING NYC Marathon) made the suggestion to me once when she joined me halfway into Grete’s Gallop to help push me along.  She said, ‘Find an ass and pass it!’.  It works.  There’s always some ass in front of me that if I zone in on it and take a deep breath I’ll gradually manage to squeeze past.   Now whenever I run a race, I inevitably take the Pass One More Ass strategy. 

My Dad said that what piqued his interest in running were Bill Rodgers and Frank Shorter, two of the most elite and successful American runners of all-time.  The NYC Marathon began in 1970 and originally consisted of four loops around Central Park with just a few hundred runners.  In 1976, thanks to the pioneering vision of Fred Lebow, the race expanded to hit all five NYC boroughs and attracted approx 2000 runners, including Olympians Frank Shorter and Bill Rodgers. 

In this picture we had just dropped my Dad off at Fort Wadsworth.  The date was Oct 21, 1979.  Notice the limited crowd and the low number on his bib.  The running boom was just getting started! 

It was absolutely thrilling to see him come running up to us, cold and sweaty, and hug and squeeze us at every spot!  Back then there was no such thing as gels and power drinks.  My mom would have a huge container of honey that she’d scoop into my Dad’s mouth like medicine for a baby and I would hold fresh-cut oranges in a ziplock baggie.  My fingers would freeze holding out extra oranges and then go numb from clapping so hard for all the runners.  As if that was an act of endurance?! 

I also remember seeing all kinds of characters pass by.  There was the waiter who we saw at every marathon.  He wore a black jacket with tails and bow-tie and held a tray in one hand with a champagne bottle and glass.  There were those who ran backwards and the guy who ran while juggling.  To my young eyes, watching the runners sometimes felt like being at the circus. 

I remember after my Dad finished his first NYC Marathon he received a spectacular poster of the Verazzano Bridge with all the runners crossing it. The shot was taken from above so you saw the full span of the bridge from Staten Island and thousands of runners charging across it.  I put this poster on the wall just to the side of my bed.  At night I would lie on my side and stare at the poster wondering where my Dad could be amongst the crowd.  My Dad told me how runners would start stripping off layers of clothes while crossing the bridge and just throw them on the pavement or off the side of the bridge.  I found this little fact about littering your clothes on world’s largest bridge to be fascinating and would daydream at the poster imaging shirts flying off the sides of the bridge. 

That same year I decided  for Halloween I would dress-up as ‘Daddy’s Super-Jogger’.  My mom ironed the letters onto a sweatshirt (she lost the ‘Y’ so it actually read Dadd’s Super Jogger), gave me my Dad’s sweatband and wristbands, a water bottle (she didn’t have a real water bottle so she gave me my little sister’s baby bottle!), sneakers and off I went proudly jogging in the P.S.69 Halloween Parade.  Running doesn’t require much of any props so my costume kinda looked like I was going to gym class.  That’s me in the middle holding up my sister.

In 1981, when my Dad was 37yo, he finished the NY Marathon in his best time ever – 3:29:30.  He said that as soon as he hit Central Park he suddenly felt like ‘a firecracker was up his ass’ and he ran like the wind to the finish.  He got across the finish line faster than my family could keep up to greet him.  My Dad bought a picture of himself crossing the finish line which has lived in a frame on top of the piano all these years. 

Everyday when I would practice piano I would gaze at the picture and think how casually normal my Dad looked, merely hopping, over the finish line.  But I never understood the magnitude of what he accomplished, from achieving a fantastic time to simply finishing the run of 26.2 miles!  Until now.

Back then I never felt a desire to run.  I never even dreamed of running the NYC Marathon. I just enjoyed being an observer, the daughter of someone who was a marathoner and a very driven runner.  My friends and neighbors all knew my Dad as a runner.  So many times someone would tell me, “I saw your Dad running near my house at 5:30am when I went out to grab the paper.  How does he do it?”  I would shrug and just say, “He does. He gets up and goes running.”

It wasn’t until I myself reached my 30′s, when I began very light running on the treadmill and outside (3-4 miles tops)  that I started watching the NY Marathon on TV and unravel a hidden desire to want to run this race myself.  My childhood memories of being surrounded, unconsciously, by the NY Marathon and the determination of a marathoner, came flooding back to me.  Yet I never mapped out a real goal.  Occasionally I would go for a short run with my Dad but I never considering properly training for races or making running a consistent part of my lifestyle.

Maybe it’s because I’m a mother and wife now and recognize the value of organizing time, staying healthy, and generally feeling balanced between work and life that running has become my center around everything else. 

So here I am now at the start of 2012, turning 40yo in October, officially accepted into the NYC ING Marathon! I just wish I could find that poster I once had on my bedroom wall.  Only this time I’d put it on the wall in my girl’s bedroom.

Here are some more vintage pictures of my Dad running the NYC Marathon back when it wasn’t even 5 years old. Notice the llight crowd of runners and the simple clothing. 

There were so many interesting folks interviewed in the film but I was especially impressed by Kathrine Switzer, a pioneer for female runners, who was the first woman to run the Boston marathon.  She wasn’t an elite runner, just a woman who loved running and proved to the world that anything boys can do, girls can do…and sometimes even better.  Listen to her bonus interview footage on this link where she talks about training with her male coach.  They decided to run their own 26.2 miles as part of training and when they got there – it was in a parking lot - she said to her partner who was already struggling, ”Let’s do another 5 miles”.  And they did but she had to lock arms with her buddy to help him get to the end.  Now that’s serious determination.       

http://www.marathonmovie.com/

http://www.kathrineswitzer.com/index.shtml

My hands were killing me from relentlessly clapping but I felt awful if I stopped clapping.  Every runner deserves a clap.  I hate when I run a race and volunteers just stare at me.  Say something! Motivate me!

Next time I’m gonna stick my hand out and get high-fives.  I always liked volunteers that demanded a high-five as you were pushing through a course. 

I know how wonderful it feels to hear cheers, especially the ones that really strike a chord with your body and make you get a rush of adrenaline, perk-up with a smile and bring it on home.  So rather than just shout the standard ”Come on runners!  Go runners! ” I switched my chants to a series of phrases that I would personally love to hear:

You guys look awesome!  You guys look great!  

Finish is just around the bend!  

Push it just a little more into the Finish! 

Deep breath and you’re home!

It wasn’t until the 10+ min a mile pacers started coming in that I really felt a rush of energy and excitement with cheering.  These folks needed the cheers.  You saw their faces light up when you said that the finish was just around the bend.  And that’s when I started shouting, “SMILE OVER THE FINISH!”  The effect that phrase had on runners was just amazing to watch.  One guy was barely at a jog and when I said “Hey, you did it! Smile over the finish!” he smiled, waved his hands like a champ and practically sprinted to the end.

I ran my first race in March 2011.  It was a 15k Colon Cancer Challenge in Central Park.  Not really sure why I decided to become a NYRR member and do races. I just felt the need to give myself goals to better myself.  It was a bitter cold day, below 25 degrees, and pretty windy.  I didn’t care. I was so excited and captivated by the entire experience of running a race; from picking up my bib the day before at the 89th Street NYRR office, waiting around early in the morning with a DJ blasting music, lining up in the corrals, jumping around to warm-up, singing the national anthem, hearing the start gun, the slow herding to the start line then a skip, trot, jog and swoosh a run – that I smiled the entire time.  I smiled at pedestrians, volunteers, other runners. I could not wipe the smile off my face.  The only thing that was aching on me after I finished the race was my face from all the smiling. 

My cousin, who is a runner, told me very wise words for my first race. She said, “Don’t forget to smile across the finish line.”  That phrase says it all to me about the kind of attitude I have as a runner and how I plan to be when I cross the finish line of my first marathon in 2012!