CelluloidCineMaier

At the time of this writing, it has been one week since I ran the NYC Marathon (and coincidentally one year ago today that I ran my first 1/2 marathon).

It was my first time in NYC (which is seriously insane, considering how long I’ve loved the city from afar), so the experience is still so vivid. Not a day has gone by that I have not fondly reflected on the details, and now with the official photos finally in, I can finally put it down on “paper”. (I’ll save the non-marathon NYC experiences for another day, so that this doesn’t get overly long.)

PRE-RACE

My dad & I took a free shuttle to the expo on Saturday morning where I was able meet up with Twitter buddies Carlos (also running his first 26.2) and Corina (a fellow Texan — and Valleyite — who was marking her 10th marathon with NYC). As expected, the expo was abuzz with activity, and I scored several NYCM shirts and other gear, including my next pair of running shoes (Brooks Adrenaline 11s!). My one huge “to-do” at the expo, besides picking up my bib & goodie bag, was to get my knees taped up at the KT Tape booth, which I was able to do in rather quick fashion, thankfully. And because I didn’t have any knees issues during or after the race, it was well worth having it done.

That evening, my family and I ate at the official Marathon Eve Pasta Party. It was held at the finish line area, so after enjoying our dinner of lasagna, salad & rolls, I was able to get a glimpse of where I would complete the next day’s journey. It all still felt very surreal. 34 years I’d waited to be in NYC. 34 years too many. I was in awe and at total peace.

When we got back to the hotel, I got all my gear & bags ready. Throwaway clothing & blankets, race clothing, hydration gear, Powerbars & Hammer gels, the works. It was a laundry list that I was very, very careful to fulfill. Didn’t want to be lacking anything. Then, I set my alarm — er, two alarms — for 4am.

RACE DAY

4am came quickly. I probably slept anywhere from 4-6 hours (not very clear, since I woke up a lot during the night). I quietly dressed as my family slept, and a few minutes before I needed to leave, my mom woke and snapped a couple photos of me.

Now, while most other NYCM runners were having to take a mid-town city bus or ferry to get to the start on Staten Island, I was lucky that Citymeals-on-Wheels — the charity I was running for — was providing transportation from their offices to the start. I wouldn’t have to worry about standing in line to catch a mid-town bus or squeezing onto a ferry. Getting to Staten Island was going to be easy.

The bus from Citymeals was going to leave at 6am, and I wanted to be at their offices by 5:15 at the latest. I walked to the end of the block from my hotel and hailed a cab to take me the additional 1-1/2 miles. A couple other runners were already there, and we were directed to their third floor offices to relax, eat and use the restroom if needed.

Citymeals was amazing in how well they took care of us. They had a table filled with bagels, oranges, bananas, water & Gatorade. I zeroed in on a salted bagel. A good, classic NYC bagel. Man, that was the perfect way to start my race morning nutrition. It was soft & delicious, and I washed it down with plenty of Fiji water (yep, Fiji is a sponsor of the charity, so we got the good stuff!).

The Citymeals director gave us the rundown of what to expect and she highly encouraged us to put our names on our shirts. “People will call out to us?” someone asked. “Oh yeah,” she said. She laid out some tape, and I asked her for a permanent marker to write my name directly on the tape (instead of spelling out my name with the tape, as some did). I honestly believe that the encouragement to do this propelled my race experience from great to super freakin’ unforgettably phenomenal.

The bus arrived promptly at 6am and the 30-ish of us got on. It was a huge bus. For 30-ish people. LOTS of room to spread out, relax and enjoy the 45-minute journey to the start. I sat comfortably and took in all the sights as we drove by. (Ah, New York. How I’ve always loved you.) I later noticed there was a restroom on the bus. Most of us took advantage of it. Had to enjoy the perks while they were still available.

When we got to the start, we were hurried off the bus (time only to unload and keep moving), took a quick group photo and joined the thousands of other runners making their way into their respective color groups (blue, orange or green). I lost the Citymeals group almost instantly (not that we were trying to stick together). Now, it was all me.

I made my way to the green start village and assessed the situation. It was about 7am — I was not scheduled to start running until 10:40 (third wave). Signs posted said my corral (61) would be called to line up at 10:15. So I had roughly 3 hours to chill. First order of business — take my finish line bag to the UPS bag drop and get to a porta-potty before more runners started pouring in. I had taken in lots & lots of water by that point. I followed signs to the trucks, dropped the bag and immediately got in line in front of the portas. The lines were relatively short, so my wait was only about 2-people deep. About 5 minutes later, I was in one. And it already stunk. Blech! I pulled out one of my many plastic bags, laid it in the “sink,” put my gear bag on top of it, and covered the seat with toilet paper. I was in and out as fast as possible.

Next order of business — find a place to spread out my blanket and sit for a while. But not before I stopped at the photo area to get a pre-race pic snapped. Quick & easy. After, I found a nice open area in the grass, just in front of the corrals. I put down a plastic bag, my blanket, sat down and wrapped myself in a second blanket. And spent the next hour and a half or so people-watching. It was so fun. I watched the first two waves hurry to their corrals, prompted by announcements in various languages. And I watched people around me slather themselves with Bodyglide. Lemmie tell ya, it was like an open locker room. Men and women would strip down to their skivvies to get Bodyglide in the right places. And many, many men took it upon themselves to pee openly — on a tree, on the side of a street, anywhere. Got a lot more sights than I bargained for! Ha!

At about 8:40 or so, I ate my Powerbar, drank more water, and continued to people-watch. I tried my best to just relax. I could have slept, but I was just too excited. I was about to run the NYC Marathon. How could I relax? When the second wave was pretty much gone, I decided to make one last stop at the porta-potty before abandoning my pre-race bag of goods. Over at the potties, we could see earlier wave runners on the bridge. We waved and cheered up at them. Thrilling. Just thrilling. After my final potty break, I put my blankets & throwaway jacket in designated donation bags. And when it came time to line up, I placed by pre-race bag (which still had a full bottle of water, a Powerbar, toilet paper and plastic bags in it) by a fence and made my way to my corral.

In the corral, I met an older lady who was walking the marathon. She said she had done many others before including London, Las Vegas, etc etc. And then, lo and behold, I found out she was from Mission, TX. A city in the Rio Grande Valley. The area where I grew up (Harlingen). We laughed at how small a world it is! When we started to make our way to the Verrazano Bridge, I lost her and came upon yet more Texans! This time from The Woodlands and Austin! Seriously! Surrounded by Texans at the NYC Marathon! It was hilarious. We inched closer & closer, then we heard the 10:40 gun go off — it wasn’t long. Wasn’t long before we would cross the start line.

GOING 26.2 MILES THROUGH 5 BOROUGHS

It didn’t take but maybe 8-10 minutes before my feet touched the first timing pad. I started my watch for 1:1 intervals. And I was off. (With 2 injury setbacks during my training, I chose to use the Galloway method to get through the race.) I tried so hard to not go out fast, but I still hit a 13-minute mile by Mile 3. I was trying to keep my pace at a 14-ish-minute mile to finish around 6 hours. And it was right then I thought, What for? ENJOY YOURSELF. Enjoy every step. Look around you. You’re in New York-freakin’ City. Absorb it. I choked back tears, slowed my pace more and did just that. The Verrazano bridge was a steady incline, so I’m glad I came to this decision quickly. (On a side note: I was unfortunately in the wave that ran on the second level of the bridge, not the top like 2/3 of the NYCM runners. I was a smidge disappointed when I found out about that (weeks ago), but it was for less than 2 miles, so I had to lay that disappointment aside.)

Finally, we were over the bridge and running through Brooklyn. Oh, Brooklyn. The crowds in Brooklyn were something else. Immediately, people on both sides of the street were calling out my name. “Way to go, Erica!” “Erica, you look good!” “Erica, yes!” “Erica! (clap, clap, clap)” I CANNOT tell how you joyous this was. There were groups with instruments that would sing a song just for me. Groups observing from their balcony windows that would catch my name and start a rap song with it. Just phenomenal. I gave them all thumbs-up and I was smiling from ear to ear. When people told me the crowds would carry me, I never in a million years imagined they would carry me that much.

As I ran, I loved watching the neighborhoods change, the nationalities change, hearing the different accents in which my name was pronounced. Men, women & children all out to support us. Firefighters, police officers, everyone. God, it was beautiful.

I thanked the numerous volunteers through every water/Gatorade stop, and before I knew it I was in Queens. Same thing. Incredibly supportive crowds. My name called constantly. I Facebooked along the way (and read many, many more encouraging comments from family and friends, which, too was an absolute joy), snapped pics when I could, and before I knew it, I was halfway home. I felt like I had floated through the first 13.1 miles.

And then my Achilles started to tighten.

I battled my Achilles late in my training, and when I felt it tighten up on me, it really scared me. I had a vision of not finishing. No, that was not an option. Just slow the pace even more. I did. And a couple miles later, the tightness subsided. Whew. Thank you, Jesus.

The next big challenge was crossing the Queensboro bridge into Manhattan. Oof. That was a hefty incline. Pretty tough. But man, that was where I got some of the best cityscape photos. Just amazing. (By the way, did I mention the weather was PERFECT? Yeah. It was.) By Mile 16, I started to feel the soreness, the fatigue in my legs. No debilitating pain. Just soreness. Whoa. 10 more miles to go. That’s when I noticed others around me struggling, too. But we were in this together. We could do this. The crowds continually told us so. Just before mile 19, I heard one crowd member say, “Just get through the Bronx, and you’re home free.” We were only in the Bronx (from Manhattan) for about a mile, then back in Manhattan. Mile 21. I had officially gone further than I ever had before (I topped out at 20 miles during training). 5 more miles to go. 5 more miles. I started to think of what the equivalent of 5 miles was in my neighborhoods. Not much.

Then, much to my (and my fellow runners’) dismay, we started to hear announcements that parts of the streets were opening up to traffic. Argh! I had read that after the “sweep bus” (a bus available to those who felt too ill to finish, a bus going at a 15-min/mile pace) passed, the roads behind it would start to open. Yikes! I was officially going slower than a 15-min/mile! Ha!! Luckily, they opened only one side, so I didn’t have to completely abandon the roads right then! Thank God! I’m sure the people way, way behind me had to eventually get on the sidewalks.

It didn’t really matter. Because before I knew it, I was at Mile 23. Central Park. I choked back more sobs. I was almost there. I could hear people around me offering more words of encouragement. “You got this.” “Just a couple more miles.” “A lot of respect, a lot respect for you guys.” Oh, the park was sooooo wonderful. Running through it was a dream. I was floating again. I had been communicating with my husband via text, and he said that he and my parents were at the finish line, on the left side, at the “200 yards to go” sign. This was it. I kept moving. I was going to finish the NYC Marathon. I rounded Columbus Circle. 1/2 mile to go. Just 1/2 a mile! Oh my gosh! Then the straightaway. 800 yards to go. Breathe. 600 yards to go. I can see it. 400 yards. My family, my family is near. 200 yards, I caught sight of them. Mom was crying, they were all yelling. I stopped for a moment and cheered and waved at them. Oh, what a blessing to have them there! Then, just ahead, the finish. I crossed the final timing pad. I raised my arms in triumph. I was done. And the tears just started to flow.

They placed the medal around my neck. “Congratulations,” the volunteer said, and I barely whispered a “thank you,” the emotions were running so high. I got my finisher photo taken, then was immediately wrapped in a heat sheet. I made my way through the finish area, was handed my finisher bag, then directed to the UPS trucks that held the bag I checked in back on Staten Island.

I finally found an exit around 77th street. I called my family (who were gushing with congratulations), and told them to just meet me back at the hotel (on 56th). It would be easier. I staggered down the city streets in somewhat of a daze. Should I try to walk back the 2 miles to my hotel? The legs said no, no, no. Traffic was bumper to bumper, so taking a cab was probably not going to get me back any faster. Then I saw a pedi-cab! Ahh!! A pedi-cab! I made my way to one, but not before another couple got to him first. Eh, I’d keep walking until I found another one. Didn’t take long. “How much?” I asked. $30 was the quote to get me back to my hotel. Yeah. $30. I know. I was pretty much taken for a ride. But ya know what? I was taken for a ride. Ahhhhhh, sweet relief for the legs. Best darn $30 I ever spent.

I actually beat my family back to the hotel by a few minutes and when we were finally reunited, my dad sobbed as he embraced me, telling me how proud he was of me. I really was so incredibly lucky that my family was there to see me complete my first marathon. To support me and lift me up when it was over. I was — I AM — very blessed.

I would do the NYC Marathon again in a heartbeat. Maybe someday in the future, I will make my way through the boroughs again. It is a race I think should be on every runner’s bucket list. I can’t imagine anything else is quite like it.

To all the people who donated their hard-earned dollars to Citymeals-on-Wheels to help me meet my commitment to them, thank you. I will be eternally grateful. 10,000 meals will be served because of you.

To my family and friends who carried me through the race with just as much support as the crowds, thank you. It was a dream come true.

And to New York …. I will always hold you in the highest regard. You carried me. You carried this Texan through your streets and showed me just how much you love and strongly support runners. (I was one of 44,829 runners to finish that day.)

New York … thank you.