My NYC Marathon 2013 Experience

SmileAcrossTheFinish.com

THE FIRST TIME I EVER RAN

Back in August 2010 I could only will my body to run for fifteen minutes around a few blocks in my neighborhood.  One day in August, before my young twins would start Kindergarten and my morning gym routine would be rocked upside down, I had asked my Dad, an avid runner and marathoner, if I could try running with him.  We met on a Sunday and without any instruction we simply started to jog together.  I had planned to run a half hour except I couldn’t make it and stopped halfway because I was convinced I would pass-out and my knees would be damaged forever.

Every time we met I added a few more minutes to my run.   I didn’t know the distance or pace I was running. I didn’t know that my sneakers would have a huge impact on my legs. I didn’t think about nutrition or hydration. I didn’t think my clothes would impact my comfort level.  My goal was to run for however long I felt I could manage. I would tell myself to just keep putting one foot in front of the other, a little bit more each time.  It was hard and yet so much fun.

Fast forward three years later, I am running the first mile of the NYC Marathon across the Verrazano Bridge, and I remember how there was once a time when I couldn’t run more than fifteen minutes.  The thought gave me a wonderful sense of internal calm and joy that cocooned me from the gusts of chilly winds.

START OF THE NYC MARATHON

THE NEW YORK CITY MARATHON EXPERIENCE

Running the NYC Marathon was much more than a race, it was an experience.

The experience began when I went to the expo at the Javitz Center to retrieve my bib.   The moment I walked into the expo I felt a tremendous surge of emotions, my eyes welled up and suddenly I was crying.  Last year I went to the expo with my sister, just after Hurricane Sandy and having travelled through the dark, powerless streets.  While we were paying for some running clothes the official word came through from Mayor Bloomberg that the marathon would indeed be cancelled.  

Here I was again.  Two seasons of hard marathon training, now with two marathons on my legs (Philadelphia and Disney). I felt incredibly proud of myself.  My mom was with me for support. She hugged me as we wiped away our tears of joy and I got my bib.  When the volunteer handed over my bib it was as if I had just been handed a pass into heaven and an angel was telling me, ‘You did good, Tara. You made it.  Go on through.’  

There were giant maps of the course on display. Many were taking pictures while other’s were just staring at it in adoration and deep prayer.  I did both.

SmileAcrossTheFinish.com

SmileAcrossTheFinish.com

On my drive home to Staten Island I crossed the Verrazano Bridge and said a little prayer for strength and safety for  me, my husband, my Dad and my awesome running group friends who were all about to run the NYC Marathon.  The next time I would cross the bridge would be on foot.  Quite a mind-blowing thought when you really think about it!

MARATHON DAY

I live just a 10 minute drive from my home on Staten Island to Fort Wadsworth.  Preparing for the start of the marathon was the most relaxing and pleasant experience.  Since the marathon also took place on Daylight Savings, I gained an extra hour of sleep too.  I had concerns that starting late in the morning (10:30am) would throw me off since all my long runs are at 7am.  Not the case.  The later start time gave me the chance to properly eat, hydrate and warm-up before hitting the course.

Any aches and pains I had been dealing with throughout my training went completely out the window on marathon day.  What plantar fasciatis? What ham-string issues?  Calf pains? Not on me.  My body was wiped clean from all the adrenaline pumping through me.

The week leading into the marathon I could not sleep.  I would lay in bed and literally feel my muscles itching to run.  The night before the marathon I had the best night sleep.

My husband and I leisurely enjoyed breakfast before getting dressed for the race.  I ate 2 multi-grain waffles with some almond butter and a dash of maple syrup.  Drank some orange juice and a big glass of water.  And had my usual shots of espresso. All consuming was done about 3 hours before I would start running.  We blasted on our stereo AC/DC “It’s A Long Way To The Top If You Wanna Rock And Roll” and woke-up our young daughters with fanfare.

One of my obsessions for the marathon revolved around fashion and weather. What do I wear?  I know layers are the answer but what layers? The high would be 50 degress with 15mph winds.  I reminded myself that I always get hot once I start running so I layered a long-sleeve dri-fit shirt with a light tank-top. I was prepared to toss the top if necessary.  I wore hot pink sleeves that served me well once I eventually shed the long-sleeve shirt around mile 20.  I also had gloves that could be tossed.  Knowing there would be wind gusts I also wore my neck-scarf.  It’s great for covering your face in winds, or pulling over your hat to keep from blowing away. For the wait in Fort Wadsworth I wore a sweatshirt that I tossed aside at the start.

We were allowed to take a clear plastic bag into the Fort. I packed a Gatorade (to take a few sips just before starting), some toilet paper, a small towel to sit on and a large garbage bag where I had already cut a hole for my head.  In case it was very windy I would have put the bag over my body for insulation.

My husband’s start time was 10:00am, mine was 10:30am and my father 11:00am.  I went to the Fort with my husband while my Dad arrived later.  As a married couple with young children, training for a marathon added more challenges to our daily routine.  For more than six months we had plotted our running schedules around each other and the activities of our children.

Here we were on the verge of achieving our ultimate goal and once again, we would be on different schedules. We strolled through the Fort hand-in-hand enjoying the sight of thousands of runners from all over the world mingling about before he went off to his corral.

I then caught up with my running partner Ken in our corral. We sat on a grassy knoll off to the side of the bridge, waiting for our turn.  We heard the cannon blast for Wave 1 and looked up onto the ramp to the Verrazano Bridge to cheer on the runners. Such excitement to know that soon it would be our turn! We were in Wave 3 / Green and that put us on the lower level of the bridge. Of course I wished my start was across the upper level but there was nothing I could do about it so I accepted my course.

SmileAcrossTheFinish.com

Everything was nicely organized and very accommodating for the runners. There were Poland Spring tents with free bottled water.  A Dunkin Donuts table with free coffee.  UPS trucks collecting bags if  a runner wanted to reclaim a bag at the finish line.  And most importantly, the Royal Flushes were in great abundance.

We made our way over to our corral and were shuffled to the lower-level entrance ramp just past the toll plaza.  We were running on the left-side of the upper-level, closer to NYC. This is normally the lane for cars driving to Staten Island from Brooklyn.  The speakers blasted Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” to which everyone sang along and waved hands.  An announcement was made warning runners not to go to the bathroom on the bridge because it is dangerous and unpleasant…that gave us all a much-needed comic relief.  I was extremely relaxed. Ken and I mapped out our plan – take it easy, it’s a nice long 20-mile run and then we race.  I told Ken that although we will start the race together he should not feel obligated to wait for me or hold back if he starts to feel the need to push ahead.  No matter what happens, we need to run our own best marathon.

The gun went off and we started jogging, I hit start on my watch and stayed relaxed.  Not 100 feet onto the bridge we got hit with the first gust of wind. Oooo, it was strong! I hunkered my head down into my hat, tightened my form and nestled behind a pack of runners.  I figured being on the lower level probably had an advantage in that it buffered some of the strong wind gusts. 

We also didn’t have an incline like the upper level. I soaked up the views that I see every day going to and from work.  It was awesome.  I looked to my left in the direction of Manhattan and the upper-east side bridges and realized that in a few hours my little legs were going to bring me over there. It was such an overwhelming thought that I simply regarded it as no big deal. I knew I would do it.  

As we started to descend the bridge I could feel the marathon was really about to begin as I started to hear cheers.  I repeated my affirmation that I always say at the start of a race – I will finish this race. I will finish strong. I will run the entire race.  By saying these words it’s like I’ve mentally locked in a promise between my brain and body to achieve my goal. It works every time.

My wave ran the first 3 miles on a slightly different course in Brooklyn before joining the other waves on 4th Avenue. We were never without cheers.  As we approached 4th Avenue the crowds were loud and packed on both sides of the street.  Runners were pouring onto the street like rainbow-colored sand in an hour-glass.  As we merged into 4th Avenue I felt a wave of energy sweep me off my feet. I wasn’t running. I was gliding!

I had my name taped on my shirt and spectators were calling me. Go Tara! Tara! Tara! Strangers were cheering for me. It was an amazing feeling.  I wasn’t paying attention to mileage.  Suddenly we were almost 6 miles in.  I kept an eye out for friends who were to be stationed along this marker.  I saw my dear friend and screamed and jumped and hugged her tightly.  I ran off and not 2 blocks later a runner taps my shoulder and says I dropped my phone with my friend.

I froze.  Ken said not to worry, just go back.  So I turned around and started trotting back, against the push from the runners, looking into the crowds that were packed 5 rows deep.  I saw my friend, yelled out and she tossed the phone to me.  This ordeal took no more than a minute. I figured it was meant to happen so I didn’t get upset. Maybe this little interruption helped recharge my muscles or saved me from a fall that would have otherwise happened? We made up the time lost because in a few miles we past the runner that had initially helped us.

At every fluid station we grabbed water and Gatorade and took a few sips.  By mile 10 I took a few energy chomps just to be safe on my glycogen reserves.  After mile 10 it felt like there were quite a lot of hills.  We paced ourselves through each one, reserving energy so we would be strong for the finish.

When we got to the Pulaski Bridge between Mile 13-14 that was the first spot where I saw lots of runners falling apart. There were many off on the side stretching or walking and with faces of pain.  It was a very steep, although short, incline over the bridge.  I leaned a little bit forward, hiked my legs high and charged up and over.  As we came down the hill I increased my speed and let gravity replenish my lungs and muscles.  If there were strong winds, I didn’t notice. If there was a chill, I didn’t feel it.

NYC Marathon 2013 Mile 13

The crowds were everywhere and they carried me through every borough.  It was one big party on the streets of New York.  Anyone that had hands out I smacked with a high-five.  If there were little kids I made sure to give them a high-five too.  The feeling of connecting with so many people was phenomenal.  I remember how I felt as a young girl watching my Dad run NYC Marathons in the 80’s and 90’s. I would get dizzy watching the endless runners move past me as I stood crammed behind the police barricade.

As we made our way towards the Queensboro Bridge I felt its massive height looming above me from the roadway. I stared it down and thought, okay, I gotta run over that too. I’ll get there. I can do it.  One step in front of the other.  On the bridge more runners were crashing.  We passed them though we weren’t running faster. We definitely slowed down but mentally we were feeling strong and in good spirits.  There was a police helicopter hovering just off the side railing of the bridge. Runners were stopping to take photos.  I soaked up the amazing views.

I am a New Yorker so while skyline is a view I know very well, it never ceases to take my breath away.  I thought of the foreigners running around me and how the impact of all the tall, closely fitted buildings and bridges must captivate their attention.  Does it make them feel intimated and insignificant?  Does it overwhelm their inner-strength or motivate them harder?

The bridge was a steady incline and we all felt it.  There was a silence and just the sound of sneakers hitting pavement. I didn’t put on my music. I enjoyed the sounds around me.  Finally we peaked and started to feel the relief of running downhill.  I knew we were about to hit onto the streets of Manhattan and that thought made me happy.

Ken and I braced each other. We know that at  Mile 16, when you start to head up First Avenue, is where runners get into trouble because they feel the energy of the crowds and being in Manhattan and then make the mistake of going too fast and ultimately bonking out.  We kept our pace steady.  The crowds were back and a welcome sight. I’ve heard of the ‘wall of sound’ that runners feel as they come off the Queensboro Bridge.  What stood out to me was seeing mobs of people crammed along the barricades, waving and cheering every single runner.

First Avenue is one long incline. At first I was looking at each street number but after a few blocks I stopped because it was making me feel the distance I still had to run. Instead I focused on the massive crowds that were cheering. By now my name tag had fallen off my shirt. I wished I had come up with a better plan for getting my name on my torso.  It was the higher miles where I really needed to hear my name.

Ken and I were looking at the crowds seeking friends.  Somehow we missed seeing everyone.  Except at 86th Street where we spotted his family.  There is simply nothing like seeing someone you know amid miles and miles of strangers.  His wife gave us bananas that we ate as we ran off.  That banana was a fantastic energy booster.

As we hit the Bronx the crowds thinned out but there was a lot of fun music blasting.  I realized how depleted everyone’s energy levels were becoming because there were few runners waving hands or high-fiving spectators.  We were all reserving as much as we could to keep our minds focused and legs moving.  The party atmosphere we felt throughout Brooklyn and Queens took a very different tone in the Bronx and Harlem as the real race – the last 6 miles – was about to begin!

I saw the Willis Avenue Bridge and thought, “Holy cow! We are actually here now, already!  It’s gonna be over very soon.”  The Willis Avenue Bridge has always seemed extremely far away from my point of life on Staten Island.  

My nutrition for this marathon has been a different approach from the past marathons.  I limited my Gu and Gel intake to just 2 packets and only once I reached +18 miles.  In the lower miles I took a few chomps.  And I ate two bananas.  One around mile 16 and another around mile 22.  What I found I most needed was salt.  I sweat a lot.  

Ken had a few salt packets and gave me one at mile 18 as I started to feel my legs getting a bit stiff and my running posture trying to compensate.  As if I was doing a tequila shot, I licked some salt, grabbed a shot of water and boom! I was back in action. I had to do it again around mile 22 and it made a world of difference.  My legs were starting to get stiff again and I could feel that my calves might start to cramp. I didn’t chance it. Another salt packet and like magic my legs loosened up again.

Every new neighborhood we crossed into was amazing. At some point we were in a Mexican area and I found myself shouting ‘Viva Mexico!’ and then it was Indian where the DJ was blasting Bollywood music.  As we came down from the Bronx into Harlem there was a Latin band playing salsa.  I found the energy to give a little cha-cha-cha in my run.

NYC Marathon 2013 Mile 20

Coming across Mile 23 I  looked ahead and saw the infamous Fifth Avenue.  It was yet another long steady incline.  I was expecting this moment after months of training.  I decided to ‘go fishing’ as I once read in a marathoner tip guide.  I’d spot a runner, reel him in and move on.  Runners were really hurting at this point.  Many were walking.  If I passed someone walking I’d pat them on the back and try to encourage them to keep on moving.  My pace was pretty steady throughout the entire marathon but here is where I really felt I was gearing up for a big finale.  I felt myself growing stronger.  As we started to get close to where we would enter into Central Park, Ken and I both began to really pick-up the pace.  The crowds were non-stop.  Our coach had trained us to get comfortable (although it’s never really comfortable. You just get comfortable with the uncomfortable) with running faster the last few miles of our long Sunday runs.  As we came to our final 5 miles our brains were doing just what it had trained to do.

I know the course in Central Park with my eyes closed.  We started to run past the museum and then down Cat Hill (finally a down hill!) and I could feel the finish line coming closer!  I was scanning the crowds for my family but never did see them. At this point Ken was also feeling juiced up from the crowds and surged ahead of me.  I watched him run off with his hands waving to the crowds shouting “Make some noise, New York!”  We were both feeling on fire. I was happy to see him charge off because since I had trained for many months with him step-in-step I knew it meant we both had the strength in us to push harder.  He inspired me to push harder.

I was now zig-zagging past runners as I came along 59th Street and just a mile away from the finish line.  Only when I got to Columbus Circle did I notice that daylight was starting to slip away.  I kept picking up the pace and smiling at the crowds.

I don’t think I could have been living more in the now than during the 4 hours and 41 minutes it took me to run 26.2 miles.  There was never a moment where I thought in the past, nor did I think in the future. I just kept focused on the present moment I was in with the bounce of each step.  Right up until the finish line.

NYC MARATHON 2013 SmileAcrossTheFinish.com

I was so happy to see the finish line but also felt very sad because I didn’t want the marathon to be over.  I remember thinking the moment I saw the finish line that I could definitely run another 10 miles.  I looked around and made sure no one was blocking my moment.  I held my arms up with my hot pink arm-warmers, looked up to heaven, said thank you to God and my angels and smiled across the finish.

Ken finished a minute ahead of me and we both felt amazingly strong and pumped with energy.  We were handed our medals, took pictures, grabbed a tart apple, got a goodie bag (Gatorade protein drink, pretzels, protein bar) and made our way out of the park where we were wrapped in the most amazing NYRR Poncho. These ponchos were only given to those that opted not to check baggage.  I felt like a superhero being given her cape.

We met up with my husband (finish time 4:17) and compared stories.  Before Ken went on to find his family we said we’d speak later in the week and figure out our running plans for the following weekend!  Runners never stop.

Me and My Husband after the NYC Marathon 2013 SmileAcrossTheFinish.com

My husband and I made our way back towards the finish line and waited for my 69-year-old Dad.  By now it was getting dark outside.  I spotted his stride and he was moving steady and strong.  For the first time I wasn’t just a spectator for my Dad.  I was a marathoner too.  We screamed and hollered for him, gave him a huge hug and watched him finish like a champ his 9th marathon in 5:48!

REFLECTIONS

Looking back on my marathon experience, do I have any regrets? Is there anything I would change or do differently?  Regrets, absolutely not.  Do differently? I would run a lot more hills in my training.  And every time I would think I ran enough hills I would turn onto another hill just for good measure.  The NYC Marathon course is packed with hills, a lot of sneaky incline hills like on First Ave and Fifth Ave and a handful of rolling steep hills especially crossing the bridges.

I would also reserve my energy during the first 14 miles. Brooklyn was such a rush and I loved high-fiving spectators and waving and smiling at everyone.  That act used up a lot of energy and probably also slowed down my pace when you add it all up.

I hope that my journey to crossing the finish line, over all the months of training and while in the very moment of running the course, inspires even just one person to do something they never dreamed possible.  When you make an authentic decision to do something, the universe conspires to make it come true.  If you remain determined, committed and give it your best effort, you too can Smile Across The Finish!

NYC MARATHON 1979 & 2013 SmileAcrossTheFinish.com

THIS IS MY HAPPY PLACE: Comfortable With Being Uncomfortable

The above picture truly captures me in my happy place: body mid-air, arms swaying strong, relaxed posture, music pumping, hint of grimace and determination on my face as I taste the finish line just ahead.  It was taken at mile 13 of the Staten Island Half Marathon last Sunday. 

Ironically, I was actually quite uncomfortable: my calves started cramping around mile 11 because I was lacking salt, I was sweating so much that my glasses were fogging, my toes were starting to get a little bit numb and my brain was trying to lure me into slowing down to a more comfortable breathing pace.  All that is not what was on my mind in the moment the picture happened.  It’s what was in the back of my mind, trying to takeover.  

What was front of mind is a very simple thought, “You are stronger than you think. The uncomfortable will pass.”  I kept saying these phrases over and over again and willing my legs to go a little bit faster, my knees to lift a little bit higher, my breathing to relax. I thought of my training runs where my coach would push me to run tempo pace for miles (a much faster pace) after an easy 10 miles. Even though I was uncomfortable I knew that eventually I’d settle down and get comfortable with being uncomfortable.  

 

Since January 2013 I have run five Half Marathons (13.1 miles) and all within a finish time range of 2:10-2:14.  I finished the Staten Island Half in 2:04. Not a PR (Personal Record) or the sub-2 hours I so very much long to achieve and not my best Staten Island Half time (last year in 2012 I finished in 2:02) but I gave it my absolute hardest effort. Can’t ask for anything more of myself.

I realized after finishing the Staten Island Half that my legs have two marathons on them over the past year. Although I’d like to believe this fact makes me stronger, it can also make me plateau and face more muscle fatigue. (And oh have I: shins, plantar fascia, calf pains, hamstring tightening!) None of this matters. Comes with the training. I need to just stay relaxed, listen to my body, rest when I should rest during taper, believe in my strength and go as hard as I can for that finish line.

Although I’m not smiling in the above picture, a picture that truly captures my happy place, as soon as I rushed across the finish line, I was smiling ear to ear with immense satisfaction and pride.  I just LOVE that finish line!

You Know You’re Ready To Run A Marathon When…

Today was my last longest run before the NYC Marathon.  As my Garmin watch beeped mile 20 I realized that although I was uncomfortable, I was in familiar territory. I could handle the uncomfortable. I knew I could find my way. Over the past several weeks I have visited the elusive neighborhood of +16 miles quite frequently.  Each time I became more familiar and comfortable with my surroundings.  I was no longer venturing into no-man’s land wondering whether my body could run as far as 16, 18 or 20 miles.  I knew exactly where I was going.   Any sense of self-doubt or fears evaporated with my sweat.   With each visit I felt more confident I would get there more efficiently. As I came to the end of my 20 mile run today I visualized myself finishing the marathon by racing those last 6.2 miles with all my heart and soul!

One Month Until NYC Marathon 2013!

This 2013 marathon training season has flown by.  I started phase 1 in late May and have been gradually building mileage and speed-work ever since.  Today I ran another 20 mile training run which tops off a total weekly mileage of 48.  My legs have been very fatigued and achy in odd spots. I know these aches.  They are the aches of marathon training.  Having already run 2 marathons this past year, I’ve learned how to listen to the moans of my body.  I know which sensations are muscle moans and which are yelps of pain that cannot be ignored.  I’ve complimented my training with bi-weekly physical therapy sessions.  Initially to treat plantar fasciatis (a painful tightening near the arch/heel of your foot) and now mainly for tune-ups… my left hamstring, my right ankle, my left shin, my right IT band…all runners have their list.

I also know when my brain is tired from building mental toughness.  Sometimes my runs are all just a long series of arguments with myself. It’s tired from arguing with me! My brain tries to coax me into modifying my training plan.  For example, it will tell me to slow down just a notch when I’m doing speed-work, or to make a  6 mile training run a 4 miler. Or it tells me to stop for 5 minutes to drink and stretch instead of pushing through the discomfort.  It will tell me not to run the hill or to stay in bed.

I’ve learned how to listen and decipher the nagging, negative voice.  I know when I need to shut it up and when it’s time to truly listen.  When I really do need that extra rest day and when I need to push harder and keep moving forward.  My technique is nothing fancy.  I simply tell myself at the start of a run that I WILL do this. I WILL finish.  (That Under Armor commercial was definitely created by an athlete!)  I think of this technique as being similar to when I turn on my internal alarm clock.  I can go to sleep and tell myself I must wake-up at 5:30am. It works every time. I am up just before the alarm sounds.  It’s the subconscious at work.

Yesterday I ran 8 easy miles.  I debated running just 4 but when I got to the park I hit 6 miles and decided to just go for it and squeeze out 8.  As my coach likes to say – money in the bank.  It wasn’t my best run, it certainly wasn’t my worse run but I still got it done. What did I expect? Why bother worrying? I still got it done.  Money in the bank.

Today’s 20 mile training run began at 7:00am in thick fog and high humidity. I train with an awesome group of runners. We pair off into various pace groups. I have a running partner who is a great conversationalist and a strong runner who helps make the time fly by.

We ran along the Staten Island boardwalk, starting at the Fishing Pier, went out to Miller Field, Cedar Beach and then turned around in the opposite direction and ran along the boardwalk towards Fort Wadsworth (which was closed due to the government shutdown) so we ran Lily Pond Avenue down to Bay Street, all along the water down to the Staten Island Ferry Terminal, past Staten Island Yankee Stadium and the 9/11 Memorial, and further out to the promenade near Jersey Street, turned around and ran back to the boardwalk’s Fishing Pier.

It was extremely humid and we were soaking wet from head to toe.  My hair was as wet as if I had jumped in a pool.  By mile 16 we did a quick pit stop for water, I took an energy Gu and we decided to crank on our iPods and stepped up our pace for the last 4 miles.  It felt amazing!

I’m especially happy with the strength we had to finish strong.  This was one of those runs where I finished feeling like I could run not just another 6.2 Miles (Marathon) but easily 10 more miles! I could actually imagine myself running an Ultra Marathon!  This is the kind of thinking I had after finishing my very first Half Marathon (Brooklyn) in 2011. I was astounded that I had just run 13.1 miles and looked beyond the finish line thinking, hmmm, maybe I could run a marathon.  Maybe an Ultra is in my future?  Anything is possible.

Here are my splits:

Total Runtime: 3:28  Average Pace 10:24

Mile 1  10:35

Mile 2 10:21

Mile 3 10:30

Mile 4 10:36

Mile 5  10:22

Mile 6  10:42

Mile 7 10:41

Mile 8 9:24

Mile 9 11:00  – Stopped for water (2min break)

Mile 10  10:38

Mile 11  10:52

Mile 12  10:41

Mile 13  11:21 – Stopped for energy supplement (2min break)

Mile 14 10:41

Mile 15  10:25

Mile 16 11:19 – Stopped for water (2min break)

Mile 17  9:26

Mile 18  8:50

Mile 19  9:00

Mile 20 10:00

From Runner to Marathoner: I Have Only Just Begun

Halloween – 1981 

The Year My Dad Finished the NYC Marathon in 3:29
Me at 9yo, dressed as “Daddy’s Super-Jogger”, holding my sis

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On Sunday, November 18, 2012 over the course of four hours, thirty-six minutes and twenty-seven seconds I went through a metamorphosis.  I went from being a runner to a marathoner.  Crossing that beautiful finish line I realized I was never, ever going to be the same person I was before 4:36:27.

I arrived in Philadelphia on Saturday and went to the expo for my bib.  There was a separate line for NYC Marathoners and I learned I would be corralled with my fellow NYC Marathoners in Corral 2.  I felt very welcomed at the expo.  Philly customized each runners bib with your name printed on it but since NYC Marathoners were late registrants, they had a booth setup with black markers where you could write in your name. How thoughtful and convenient!

That night my family and I had a lovely dinner at Pizzeria Stella where I carb-loaded again.  I had been carb-loading on pasta since Wednesday.  I also kept drinking lots of water and coconut water to fill my tank with as much of a reserve of energy as possible.

Back at the hotel room after I obsessed for the hundredth time over the weather, wind, humidity, hourly temperatures and my body heat while running, I laid-out my clothes with confidence they would serve me well. I organized every single item I planned to carry on me: my Garmin watch (fully charged), my energy GUs  (both with and without caffeine)/chomps/beans/water, iPod Shuffle, cell phone armband. I hate running with a belt and although I packed one I managed to shove all my energy shots into the tiny pockets around my leggings.

I also planned to pin my bib to my leg so I could take off my long-sleeve shirt. I wrote my name with a Sharpie on packing tape, put a second strip on top for protection and stuck it on my shirt. Everything was ready.

Ready to run the Philadelphia Marathon 2012

I tried to sleep and although I felt calm I could not doze off. I had slept very well all week so that I was confident even if I didn’t sleep before the race I would be fine.

My alarm went off at 4:30am and I got to business with more carb-loading. I chugged down an 8oz coconut water, 8oz water, 1 banana, a few scoops of peanut butter, half a bagel and a Stinger honey waffle. I forced myself to bite, chew and swallow at that ungodly hour even though I was still full from the pasta just a few hours earlier.  I wanted to get it all down within 2-hours before the race allowing enough time for digestion and absorption into my muscles.

Most important was getting my daily shots of espresso.  The Starbucks in my hotel lobby opened at 5:30am so I got on line with other caffeine-addicted runners around 5:15am.  There were already droves of runners starting to walk the dark streets towards the start line about one mile away. I couldn’t wait to get moving.

My husband and sister were running the marathon too.  We kept coaching one another on do’s and don’ts (wear the extra layer, bring the extra chomps, don’t forget to look on you right for our parent’s and the kids at miles 13 and 25, don’t focus on your time). None of us run the same pace so we hugged each other tightly at the start line and then scattered off to our assigned corrals.

The weather was sparkling perfect.  35-40 degrees, barely a breeze and mostly sunny.  I had a hoodie just to keep warm while waiting to start  but was so pumped up with excitement I took it off once I got to my corral.  I took a Cliff Double-Espresso Turbo Shot (yummy!) and finished my 4oz bottle of water. I had my iPod Shuffle and used the music to relax and center me.  AC/DC “It’s A Long Way To The Top (If You Wanna Rock n Roll)” was on repeat and I was bopping along to the riffs while keeping my leg muscles loose.  I imagined I was like an Olympic athlete with their headphones on while waiting to do their event. In other words, I was putting on my game face.

The race kicked off at 7:00am to the awesome theme song of Rocky. There is nothing like getting ready to run a marathon in the City of Brotherly Love near the infamous steps that Rocky charges up and having the theme song blasting in your honor!  The race got started at 7:00am sharp but my corral was still waiting at 7:30am to get moving.

Like a race horse behind a gate, I just needed to GO! I couldn’t take another moment of tapering, waiting, carb-loading, resting, stretching, pep-talking, hydrating, wiggling my toes, adjusting my clothes, tightening my hat, setting my Garmin watch, fitting my headphones, taking deep breaths… enough! I had my game face on and was ready to run a marathon.

Then our moment came.  The friendly announcer called out to the NYC Marathoners to get ready.  The DJ played Frank Sinatra’s New York, New York and we all started singing at the top of our lungs, hands waving in the air.  “Welcome New Yorker’s to the Philadelphia Marathon! You have waited a long time for this moment. Longer than you originally planned.  We are happy you can run your marathon here in our city.”

With that we were off and I was trotting across the start line, syncing my watch.  I started to push out fast pacing at sub-9. That’s too fast for me.  The crowds were cheering and I kept telling myself to calm down, slow down, relax.  For a split second I heard this voice in my head mumble, What the hell are you about to do? And then I quickly calmed myself remembering I’m going to do exactly what I am trained to do and what I love to do: just go for a run.

My plan was to think of the race in 5 mile increments. I kept re-programming my mind into thinking it was going to run five 5-mile routes instead of 26.2 miles and to just focus on each 5 mile phase. I had even thought up themes for each 5 mile phase.

Miles 1 – 5: warm-up

5 – 10: quicker pace, give yourself some padding on the time

10-15: stay loose and consistent and try to hold the quicker pace

15-20: stay loose, relax and expect to slowdown

20-25: who the hell knows? just keep moving! Go, go, go. Enjoy the experience. Look to the crowds and your surroundings for motivation.

26 – 26.2: let the finish line pull you in

Around mile 3 I was starting to settle into my warm-up. I turn to my left side and am shocked to see my running coach prancing along on the course just next to me!  He had secured a bib from a friend for the Half Marathon (13.1 miles).  It was a gift from the heavens to have my running coach there to pace me for the first 13 miles.  After mile 5 we kicked it up a little bit to a slightly sub-10min pace.

A lot of the course is flat, there were less than a handful of hills. Nothing like the rolling hills I was familiar with running on Staten Island or in Central Park, NYC. There is a real hill around mile 7-8 but what goes up, also comes down.  It felt good to cruise control down that hill and loosen up my legs.

This course was full of surprises with the change of scenery.  You run from historic downtown Philly where the streets are fairly narrow, through the colonial neighborhoods, out to the industrial section, along highway and then on to the park along the river and then back into the streets of downtown.  Not knowing the course or the landmarks awaiting me made it easy to get into a flow and lose myself on the course.

This was my first marathon and I was going to enjoy every moment of it.  Every time I saw a child with their hand out, I gave them a high-five and thanked them.  I tried to read all the fun and inspiring signs cheerers were holding.  There was one woman who was holding out a box of tissues.  Very smart! I grabbed a few.

One of the many tips of advice I was given was to take an energy shot (GU, Bean, Chomp) every five miles and at every fluid station take a few sips of water and/or Gatorade, even if it’s a tiny sip.  You don’t want to dehydrate or wait until you are thirsty.

I also made sure to do an honest check-in with my body every five miles.  I’d take a moment to really listen to my body. How do my feet feel? How are my legs? Time to do a few high knee strides to loosen them up and see how they feel. How is my posture? Give my arms a good stretch and wiggle my fingers.  Am I breathing easy or heavy?

At mile 13 I started to get very warm. I was wearing a tank top layered with a long-sleeve black dri-fit shirt and gloves. My Lululemon leggings and compression socks. I know the rule is never run with anything new but the gloves were a newbie for me.  I bought them at the expo when I realized it would be around 30 degrees.  I never run with gloves. Usually I wear mitten-sleeves.  These gloves were awesome and I think they helped keep my blood pumping better.

I was hesitant to take off my long-sleeve shirt not knowing if the wind would kick up around the river.  My coach said not to be hot and sweat too much or I could dehydrate so off came the shirt. I tied it around my waist.  Much better.  Wearing the tank with the gloves was a perfect combo, like a sugary-salty treat.

Around Mile 14 – Philadelphia Marathon 2012

My coach gave me one last word of advice before we departed. He said when I get past mile 22 just keep on moving. Hear him in my head shouting GO.  You think all those simple words of advice and signs of inspiration mean nothing?  That they are just noise?  Not when you’ve been stripped down to your pure heart and soul, trying to move your body across 26.2 miles! Those simple phrases mean everything to a runner and are all we can really process into our mind.

We parted ways and a few minutes later I saw my parents with my twin daughters screaming for me at the midway point.  I gave them all a cold squeeze.  I had packed an extra backpack for them to hold with spare clothing and energy shots/water just in case. (I wasn’t sure if Philly would be prepared for the extra 2000+ runners and decided to pack extra supplies).  My mom asked if I needed anything from the bag and in the blink of an eye – Nope, I’m great! And off I went.

The divide came up for those running the half marathon. At this point the marathoners continue out past the finish line for a long loop back. This meant I was running past a lot of elite and very fast runners pacing a 2 to 3 hour marathon. There was a moment where I felt the weight of the long road ahead of me while other’s were finishing their cool 13.1 miles. I sensed a pang of fatigue but quickly brushed it off by repeating to myself: The best is yet to come.

I settled down for the long stretch out along the river by watching the runners heading towards me on my right side hitting their 22+ miles. They all had a look of struggle and pain on their faces. How bad is it? Were they happy? Were they having fun? I had to look away knowing that in an hour I would know the answer to those questions. If those fast runners looked like it was a struggle, how will I feel? I pushed away any thoughts of fear. I decided to generalize the situation and told myself a white lie: they looked in distress because they cared about their time and ranking.  My goal for this first marathon has always been to finish feeling good and I needed to hold onto that thought.

Mile 14-15 I remember vividly.  I was listening to my music, trying to keep my quicker pace consistent when I realized I was breathing very hard. I felt like I was starting to breath through a straw.  It was time to do a body check.  I realized I shouldn’t be breathing this hard. Something wasn’t right.  At first I just thought I was running too fast and that was why my breathing was heavy.  I thought the chill in the air was making me work harder. I thought I was just getting emotional after seeing my family and that was why I couldn’t catch my breath.

One of my worse training runs came into my mind and saved me.  It happened when I had only been about 3 miles into a training tempo run when I crashed and could not catch my breath. I had to stop. My coach said I hit my lactic acid threshold and needed an energy shot or Gatorade.  I was glad that incident happened because if it occurred during a race I would know how to manage it.

I wasn’t quite at Mile 15 but I ripped out another GU (Cliff Shot Vanilla) and slugged it back. The fluid station was coming up so I took two cups of Gatorade. That refueling made a world of difference.  My breathing became easy again and I relaxed.

Around mile 16 where the spectators thinned out and all you heard were runner’s footsteps I saw my sister running past me on the opposite side of the course. She was leading the charge in her neon yellow outfit in the 4:00 Hour Pace Group.  We locked eyes and screamed wildly at each other and with such intensity that I actually felt dizzy when the moment past. A few miles later I saw a friend and her husband cheering me on that gave me a huge boost in an area with a sprinkle of spectators.  I had been running for almost 18 miles, mostly talking into my head, conserving my energy, that when I let out the gush of screaming, I actually thought I might expend all my energy.

Mile 18 – Philadelphia Marathon 2012

Around mile 20 I passed a bar where folks were dancing and holding shots of beer out for the runners.  I passed on the offer and once again chugged a Cliff Shot Razz flavor.  I had been taking an energy shot every 5 miles so by now I was positively, absolutely DONE with the energy shots.  I started popping my watermelon flavor beans for electrolytes.

Mile 18 – Philadelphia Marathon 2012

I had tried not to look at my watch often and after Mile 22 I just stopped looking at it altogether.  I was indeed slowing down. Everyone around me was too.  There were runners starting to walk and limp along the sidelines.  I had trained to run at most 20 miles and here I was going beyond my maximum mileage.

At mile 23 I was feeling some new aches in my calves and quads but pushed on.  There started to be a quiet voice in the back of my mind whispering suggestively that I should walk, just for a few minutes. It was trying to tempt me with the idea of stopping to stretch. I shut it up immediately. Stopping was not part of my marathon training plan. It would be so much worse if I stopped.  My engine might not start-up again.

At this point I realized the truth of what all marathoners state.  The last 6.2 miles of the marathon is when the race really begins.  Anyone can get themselves up to 20 miles. (yes, even you sitting on your couch thinking you can’t walk around the block.)  It’s all about those last 6 miles, which potentially equals another hour or more of running at my average pace for the marathon.  I had to block the time out of my head and just focus on what my coach said: Keep it moving and go. My arms were in sync with my legs as I gently pumped my arms which helped move my legs up, out, back; left, right, left, right.

Somewhere around mile 24 I saw my husband walking along the side. I was very surprised and worried to see him. He had been pacing to do a 4 hour marathon.  He said his left leg started hurting around mile 14 and slowed him down drastically until he knew he had to walk/run or risk not finishing.  He tried to run with me but I was moving a little too quickly for him.  We gave each other words of encouragement and off I went. I couldn’t stop. I had to keep it moving.

Now I was running on the course where an hour earlier I had seen the faster runners with looks of distress.  I looked to my right-side and distracted my mind by watching the much slower runners only just now hitting their 16 mile mark. Some were struggling or limping in pain and other’s were just slow and very steady.

There were minimal crowds in the last few miles and those that stood by were just watching us and not cheering.  I cranked up my music and tried to relax.  The Rolling Stones “Sympathy for the Devil” came on and then Talking Heads “Psycho Killer”. My legs were starting to kick up speed as if the auto-pilot knew the runway was coming up. (Pleased to meet you. Hope you guessed my name. ) The crowds started to get a little larger and there were now packs of folks holding signs.  I kept chugging through.  (Psycho Killer: Run run run awayyy.)

I didn’t look at my watch. I had no idea what mile marker I was at.  25, 26? I don’t know Philadelphia so I had no idea where I would spot the finish line. I just kept pushing along and looking on my right-side for my family. Now the crowds were packed in, 5 rows deep.  I turned off my music and took it all in. I never saw my family at the finish line but that’s okay.  What I did see was nothing like I had imagined at the end of all my long training runs.

The last .25 to the finish line seemed to move in slow-motion as I focused in on the Finish Line and realized I was minutes away from running 26.2 miles. I saw a collage of flashbacks in my runner’s-eye: my alarm clock of 4:30am, my street in the morning darkness, the spot where I practiced hill repeats, my Garmin heart rate monitor strap, a printout of my training schedule from my running coach and the classic photo of my Dad crossing the 1981 NYC Marathon.

1981 NYC Marathon

I was about to have that moment now too!  I couldn’t look anywhere else but at that finish line.

I was glad the moment passed in slow motion.  I almost didn’t want the journey to end. I had my arms up and was smiling and yelling for the last .2 of the marathon. My coach told me that before I cross the finish line, look around and make sure there was no one blocking me so that I get a great photo smiling across the finish.  I did just that.

Like a newborn not wanting to leave the comfort of its mother’s womb, I realized when I crossed that finish line I was going to be reborn as a marathoner.  Just like a baby, seconds after crossing the finish line I began sobbing uncontrollably.  The lone runner. It was my own race, my own journey, even though I was surrounded by 12,000+ other marathoners.

A teenage girl put a medal around me and I couldn’t stop crying.  A teenage boy put a foil around me and I was still sobbing.  I looked around and realized all the runners around me were crying!  I stood in line to take my post-race photo and with a tear-stained face I worked that pose like a diva.

As I gathered my emotions and checked in one last time with my body I realized I had more in the tank. If I had to keep going, I definitely could have done it.  Next time I will push myself to go a little faster too.  I have only just begun.

I found my sister and we screamed and hugged like maniacs.  She achieved her goal of sub-4 hours (3:55!). My husband came along shortly after feeling disappointed and glad to have finished.  He had trained to run Philadelphia, not NYC.  I felt very sorry that he was frustrated and at the same time reminded him that this was his first marathon so he still PRd (Personal Record). The three of us were like a little trifecta of the marathon experience.

Later that evening after we were back home and relaxing I was on the living room floor using my foam roller across my tired legs and my 7-year-old twin girls were nearby playing. I told them to sit close to me in a circle cause I had to tell them something important. We held hands and I told them to close their eyes with me and take a snapshot of seeing Mommy running up to them in the marathon. I told them that this is a day I would like them to always remember. I told them today wasn’t just a day they had to wait a long time outside, watching lots and lots of runners, cheering them on in the chilly air. One day they will understand just how special it was just as I figured out many years after watching my Dad run his marathons.

(Read here for that story: https://smileacrossthefinish.wordpress.com/2012/01/06/im-in-to-finish-2012-ing-nyc-marathon/)

Redefine Possible: Philadelphia Marathon 2012

Freedom Sculpture by Zenos Frudakis (Located: 16th & Vine Street, Philadelphia, PA) –
SEE IT, BELIEVE IT, BE IT!

As I started my two-week taper into the NYC Marathon, my legs had the chance to stop, look around at the redecorating I had done over the past several months of hard training and decided to shout back a strong opinion.  My left hip is where I heard the most complaints.  I suddenly found myself limping as I walked.  This was not a good sign and I needed help asap. A magic wand would have been ideal. Instead, I went for PT and the therapist diagnosed a sprained left hip. Rest, rest, rest. If I am able, rest to the start of the marathon!

Agh, my worse fear realized. I listened to my therapist and more importantly to my body. I stopped all cross-training too. However, I couldn’t stop my inner alarm clock from waking me up at 4:30am ready to go. That was so hard to temper.

Then Hurricane Sandy came along and cancelled the NYC Marathon.  The days leading up to the official cancellation were an emotional roller-coaster.  I felt my desire to blast off dwindle to a flickering flame.  On marathon Sunday I chose to join New York Runners Support Staten Island and redefined my finish line for the NYC Marathon.

A few days later I heard the Philadelphia Marathon was opening slots for about 3000 NYC Marathoners.  My husband was already training to run it so I was familiar with the race.  Still nursing my injured left hip, I was initially reluctant to sign-up.  I had now been tapering for 3 weeks, that included 2 weeks of complete rest.  My mental focus was a mess.  Last thing I wanted to have happen was to get into the Philly Marathon and be too injured to finish.  I pushed my fears aside and signed up for the lotto.  My sister did the same and a few days later we were accepted.

It was GAME ON!  Gulp.  I went for several sessions of PT and each time felt improvement.  This past week I did a proper taper training run and felt fantastic.

Sat: 4 miles
Sun: 8 miles
Mon: 3 miles
Tue: 4 miles
Wed: 4 miles (tempo)
Thur/Fri Rest
Sat: 2 miles
Sun: 26.2!

My legs were feeling strong again but my mind was not in the same place.   One of the purposes behind starting this blog was to “both mentally and physically prepare to run the NYC Marathon and beyond” and here I am losing my mental mojo when I need it the most! After the crazy emotional up’s and down’s of the past four weeks, my inner-rocket had fizzled out.  The only way to reignite it was to believe in myself again.

I remembered my mantra: See It, Believe It, Be It and then thought of the above picture.  It is a sculpture I have adored for many years and keep as my Facebook cover image.  It is titled “Freedom” (by Zenos Frudakis).  The sculpture visually represents exactly how I feel this journey has been for me: See It, Believe It, Be It!

And then today I got my special sign from God that everything is going to be wonderful.  I learned that the sculpture is located in Philadelphia near the Start/Finish Line!  Of course I was meant to run this race. I will be exactly where I am supposed to be on Sunday, Nov 18: In Philadelphia with my family nearby, running my first marathon with a Smile Across The Finish.

How I FINISHED the ING NYC Marathon 2012

Hurricane Sandy blew destruction across my Staten Island neighborhood. Fortunately my family was just inconvenienced without power for 6 days, tree damage and low gas in our cars. Many other’s were less fortunate. Areas that are among my most favorite running grounds were completely demolished and flooded.  This is a blog post from Oct 14 where I completed my last long run in the sections destroyed by Hurricane Sandy: http://bit.ly/TdFKdb

Staten Island – West Brighton – Tree Damage from Hurricane Sandy

I kept asking myself, “How could there be a marathon?” And the answer in my heart was always, “No, there just can’t be.” I had already accepted the marathon would be cancelled even though an official announcement was yet to be made by NYRR CEO Mary Wittenberg. She never made it. Mayor Bloomberg insisted it was going forward. NYRR sent newsletters to confirm that it was on.

I just couldn’t believe it. And then an angry mob began hating on runners. I had Facebook Friends post about tripping runners, protesting at the start line, blocking the course. The general sentiment that echoed in my head was: “Running the Marathon is a disgrace. It is an insult to every New Yorker who has suffered in any way.”  This is not the spirit of the NYC Marathon. The marathon was founded on bringing together all 5 boros of NYC.  I was very conflicted.

At Friday afternoon’s press conference (2 days before the marathon) Mayor Bloomberg continued to insist the marathon would happen.  So I took a deep breath and began a 3 hour commute into NYC to the Javitz Center for the expo where I would pick-up my bib. This was supposed to be a thrilling process and instead I was masking feelings of dread and sadness.

Minutes after receiving my bib, while at a cash register with my sister paying for some running items, a friend called to say the Mayor just cancelled it. I was beyond relieved and also sad and angry. Why wait so long to make a decision?

Moments after getting my bib at the expo for the NYC Marathon 2012, Mayor Bloomberg announced it was cancelled

On Sunday, Nov 4, I joined NY Runners Support Staten Island at the ferry (met my sister too) and went into the coastal areas hit hardest to distribute supplies and help my neighbors cleanup. It was heartbreaking and uplifting to use my well-trained body to help another in dire need.  The group was organized in a matter of 2 days all via Facebook.  This is an interesting article from the Huffington Post that describes how the entire event was organized via social media.  http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jordan-d-metzl-md/nyc-marathon-staten-island_b_2094399.html

We were a group of strangers and yet we organized quickly and smoothly and adapted to any change of plans.  One of the great things about runners is that we are very familiar with organized chaos (on a race course thousands of runners weave past one another; in training a lone runner dodges the surprises of urban streets: cars, dogs, pedestrians, potholes) and being corralled into groups (12:00 pacers go to the back; sub-8:00 pacers to the front).  We are also task-masters (give us a training plan and we will get the job done) and highly goal-oriented (when’s the next race so we can plan our strategy to cross that finish line).  There were at least 500 runners that flowed off the ferry.  The orange river poured outside the terminal where everyone organized into smaller group’s based on which area they were going to help.

My group chose to run into the Oakwood Beach area. As we ran into the residential streets where homes were completely shredded apart my heart dropped.

Staten Island – Hurricane Sandy

Staten Island – Cedar Grove Beach area – tops of homes blown off their foundations

There were no signs of FEMA, Red Cross, government personnel, military officials… I don’t even know who should have been present around such a catastrophe.  All I saw were lots of neighbors helping neighbors in every way possible.  With our backpacks stuffed with supplies, one of our fellow-runners even had a twin-baby stroller stuffed with items, I sort of felt like the cavalry.  These folks clearly needed man-power desperately.

It was amazing to see my community come together.  There were teenage girls walking the streets with trays of coffee to hand-out; packs of men walking with shovels and gloves ready to move debris; older women setup tables in front of their homes where food was on display for anyone to take (“Want some baked ziti? I have hot lasagna here!”); pick-up trucks with out-of-state license plates were cruising the streets looking to help provide man-power or unload supplies.

We started by asking each homeowner what they needed and how we could help.  A very simple question that sliced through an onion of raw, burning pain.  Some folks were too emotional when asked the question.  Other’s were too proud to take anything so I had to be persistent.  Quite a few apologized that I couldn’t run ‘my marathon’ and I told them not to even give it a thought.  I could care less.  I want to help and I have strong legs so tell me where to run and I’ll get what you need.

There were make-shift supply distribution hubs (usually at street corners) that had collected cleaning supplies, clothes, food.  I grabbed a bucket, bleach, gloves and sponges.  I started trotting around through the streets passing out items.  Sometimes I’d stop at a home to help clear debris, other times I would ask someone what they needed and run back to the make-shift supply hub to get the item.

Would-be New York City Marathon runners instead pitched in to help storm victims on Staten Island.

I wore my orange marathoner shirt.  Funny how orange was the color for the 2012 marathon. It’s also the color for Staten Island, thanks to the bright orange ferries.

A year ago I was IN to FINISH the ING NYC MARATHON 2012. Here is my blog post that started the journey: http://bit.ly/SKcjuw.  I have spent the entire year mentally and physically preparing for Nov 4, 2012.  The day was supposed to start on Staten Island and take me on a course through all 5-boros, finishing in NYC.  God had another course for me to follow that started and ended in my own backyard, on Staten Island.  Helping my neighbors was the best way I could have put all my pent-up energy to a positive purpose.  I will run the NYC Marathon in 2013 and come back better, faster and stronger, just like New York City.

FINISH LINE PHOTO:  Me and my sister wearing our orange marathoner shirts, the same color of the Staten Island Ferry, after the most unforgettable day helping our neighbors.

My Last Long Run Before The NYC Marathon: 47 Total Weekly Miles

This past Sunday I ran 20 miles and that tipped my weekly mileage in at a total of 47 miles; my highest to date and my max before the NYC Marathon.  This was my second 20 mile run.  I also ran two 18 milers over the past several weeks. I love the way I feel after running high mileage! Utterly, completely exhausted and fantastically strong all at the same time. This is the course I ran with my amazing Ironman running coach and fellow running-mates from the YMCA.

We met at 7am in the parking lot at the Fishing Pier off the South Beach boardwalk with pink and orange sunlight crackling across the NY harbor sky.  In the distance was the Verrazano Bridge, Manhattan skyline and the edge of Coney Island with the infamous parachute ride.

It was about 50 degrees with a crisp ocean breeze. I have this rule that unless the temperature is under  49 degrees, I will not wear a jacket or long-sleeves for a run. I always end up too hot once I’m settled into a run.  For this run I wore a T-shirt and although I felt a chill, I held out from adding a jacket.

The run our coach mapped out was fairly flat with the exception of when we got into historic Fort Wadsworth.  We hit those steep hills for miles 16 – 19 to really test our strength and prep us for the NYC Marathon course.

This is one of my favorite courses to run because of the views and the endless paths you can tack onto your route if you want extra mileage.  The terrain also switches at different mileage points with boardwalk wooden planks, concrete, paved streets, gravel and grass at various spots.  It’s a nice way to strengthen your tired legs as you push into high mileage.  There are also public bathrooms and water fountains along the way – an essential for any long-distance runner that isn’t willing (or forced) to rough it in a bush!

This is a view of the fishing pier and the Verrazzano Bridge in the distance.

Around mile 13 there was a car show setting up in the parking lot and a toy race-car speedway event happening too.  We took a 5 minute pause and watched the cars zip and zoom around the mini speedway. So cool!

This little guy was especially fast and slick on the turns!

When we ran into Fort Wadsworth I was knocked back by this breathtaking, up-close image of the Verrazzano Bridge.  I couldn’t help but get emotional thinking this is where I will line-up at the start of the ING NYC Marathon.

This is Fort Wadsworth. There are some delightful hills.  After our first loop and by around mile 17 we decided to go around again, you know, for good luck. It was tough and it was absolutely awesome.

I rarely looked at my Garmin watch to keep track of the mileage and time.  I just kept going and going, breathing easy and keeping loose in my mind.  As we hit mile 18 we kicked up the gears and I had the stamina and desire to push faster.  I imagined myself crossing the finish line in Central Park.  I know I will finish the marathon. I know I have the mileage in me.  I can’t wait to get started!

Quit Complaining! It’s Your Choice

Would you like some cheese with your whine?  It’s so easy to whine and complain.  Sometimes it seems like there’s more inspiration behind the act of complaining than in the act of being positive.  The groans can roll off your tongue so quickly. While complaining can make you feel better, for the short-term, it also brings on a wave of negativity to you and those you are complaining and commiserating with.

I could easily allow myself to whine and complain throughout my runs and workouts.  This past week of marathon training was tough, with high temperatures and relentless humidity.  I tipped in with a total weekly mileage of 35 (my max to date) that included Hill Repeats.  I am also very busy at work where there’s never any downtime thanks to the Blackberry which means I am constantly carving out pockets of precious time to spend with my 7-year-old twin girls.  How easy it would be to say I don’t have enough time or I’m too tired or it’s just too hard.

Nah. I don’t choose that option.  I choose to limit my grumblings if not avoid it altogether.   Doing so makes me feel better and stronger.  I have enough challenges to conquer with marathon training and work/life balance as a full-time working mom, that I see no value in adding ‘complaining’ as a means  of motivation and inspiration.

I have a habit of immediately looking for a solution whenever I’m confronted with a problem.  If I want to run the marathon, I need to train.  That means, even when it’s hot, humid, raining or whether I feel tired, bloated, achy… I need to get out and train.  It’s very hard work.  I might as well embrace the challenge of new behavior rather than blanket it with a negativity of complaints that will only slow me down.

Here is how I felt running last week in the high humidity and heat:  soaking wet through my socks, my eyes stinging from a non-stop waterfall of sweat down my forehead, a scratchy throat from the occasional gnat that flew into my mouth and when I paused for a sip of water my body was so burning hot that steam was rising off my arms.  That is how I felt.  What I kept thinking is that all these difficult sensations that I had to learn to run with are merely part of the training process.  I was reminded of this awesome quote: “Don’t Be Upset By The Results You Didn’t Get With The Work You Didn’t Do”.  I decided to grab the challenge, store it in my (sweaty) pocket and plan to bring it out at the marathon.

When I feel my mind wanting to drift into the Land of Excuses, sabotaging my will-power to keep going, to keep pushing, I remind myself of that phrase.  I will not put myself in a state of denial about my true actions.  I do not plan on running the NYC Marathon wondering if I trained enough.  I want to wake up that morning feeling 100% prepared physically and mentally to get up and just run all 26. 2 miles. No regrets.  I don’t believe you can lie, cheat or trick your body into running a marathon. Anything I DIDN’T do in training will reveal itself at some point over 26.2 miles.    I want to avoid or at least limit that kind of result from happening so that indeed I will be smiling across the finish line!

Pushing thru a heat wave at the NYRR Queens 10k in Flushing Meadow – July 2012

 

Running the Brooklyn Half Marathon: I Want More

I love running Half Marathons!  Within the past year I have run four.  In a week I will run my fifth (NYRR Manhattan Half) and then I look forward to the NYC Half on March 15 and the More Magazine/ Fitness Magazine Women’s Half on April 15.  I figure eventually all these halfsies will lead me to a whole: specifically the ING NYC Marathon.

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.

As I merged onto Ocean Parkway there was a lone man cheering.  He said, “You’re halfway done! The finish is just down this road.”  Ha, just another 6-ish miles. That flat run on the parkway was long and quiet.  There were no cheerers.  But occasionally an elite runner who had probably finished an hour earlier and now decided to run back on the course towards Prospect Park would shout a cheer like “You can do it runners!  Push it!”.  I felt grateful and inspired to think that I was able to participate in a race with other runners that were a hundred times faster than me.

The end was nearing when I approached the boardwalk at Coney Island and saw the Parachute Ride and Ferris Wheel in the near distance. When I turned the corner in the parking lot with my feet pounding the boardwalk’s wooden planks, heard the Black Eyed Peas “I Gotta Feeling” blasting and crowds cheering around the finish line, I actually felt a little sad it was all about to come to an end. I wanted more! I knew I had more in me.

I remember looking at that Finish Line as I was passing Nathan’s Hot Dog stand and the Verrazano Bridge far off in the distance, with my husband and sister on the sidelines screaming for me, and thought that if I had to run another 5 miles I absolutely had it in me to go the distance.  I felt so proud of myself for discovering I had 13.1 miles in my legs.

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!