Novermber 5, 2011
Marathon Eve – I flew into town on Saturday with just enough time to visit the Expo and check into my hotel before meeting my brother and his friends at a bar in Inwood. I ate yam fries whilst everyone else had beer. I complained my yam fries were not sufficient fuel, so we stopped at a Ramen place.
Marathon Eve (a little later) – We watched the Bama –LSU game at the hotel. The score was tied at the end of the fourth quarter, and despite protestations from my brother the game had to be turned off so I could sleep.
November 6, 2011
Base Camp (6 AM – 10:30)– I woke up promptly at 4:50 and boarded the bus to the Verrazano Narrows Bridge at the Fort Wadsworth area of Staten Island. As the bus drove across the bridge I had the thought that I would be running on this very bridge in a few hours.
Our bibs divided us into 3 tribes: blue, orange, and green. I joined my fellow greens for a festive party. There were bagels, Powerbars, water, and hot coffee for us to enjoy. All around me I saw runner of every tribe and nation speaking their Babel of tongues. I heard French, Spanish, Italian, and German and others. The international runners often wore their flags, so I saw that even amongst the English speakers there were English, Australians, Kiwis, and South Africans.
I checked my smart phone to see how the Bama-LSU game played out. Damn it.
Starting Line (10:40)-
The runners were divided into 3 waves, with the 3 colors represented in each wave. I was Wave 3, Green – which is another way of saying ‘Last’. From Base Camp I could watch the first Waves run by on the bridge. We waved to them, and they waved back. Finally my group was called and we moseyed on over to the starting corral. As we slowly shuffled to the start they started to play that song that goes something like ‘Start Spreading the news…duh du-duh duh…something, something’ – you know the one. It all felt very New Yorky.
Miles 1–2 (Verrazano Bridge)-
Everyone was jazzed. We clapped when cop cars drove by on the other side. We slapped hands with bridge workers and cops sitting on top of their cars watching us go by. Some British girls (identified by the Union Jacks they were waving) had taken off their shirts and were running in bras –not sports bras.
At the end of the bridge this guy was peeing off to the side, which was funny because the announcer before the starting line told us specifically not to do that. Runners tossed hats and layers aside in heaps as they decided they were too warm to need such things.
I felt confident.
Miles 2–13 (Brooklyn) The race split into two for just a little bit, and then the two courses converged onto a main street that took us through Brooklyn.
People cheered from every side and there was no end to them. Occasionally tourists would cross the street, and despite their attempts to find breaks in the crowd, they would always force runners to slow. Bad tourists, bad.
Somewhere around mile 10, perhaps the Williamsburg area, I stopped at a Porta-Potty. I had to, but I lost no time because there was no line.
I still felt confident.
Mile 15 (Queensboro Bridge)
We had just run through Queens and had entered the Queensboro Bridge. This to me was the hump, that one part in my training where my legs would feel like jelly and want to quit. It’s not the farthest I had run before, but I had never run to this point without feeling weak.
As we left the bridge and entered Manhattan, I felt fine.
Mile 18– (Manhattan)
In my training I had never run past 18 miles –I started to feel tired. I took advantage of the fuel stations, the first I had seen.
Mile 20– (The Bronx)
We crossed the Willis Ave. Bridge into the Bronx. As I entered this cheery little Borough a bystander held up a sign that said ‘You Have Entered the Bronx – Better Start Running!’ Thanks.
Mile 20, as I now know, is where the marathon begins. It hurt. I wanted to stop, but forced myself to remain steady.
Mile 23– (Mt. Everest)
A hill sprouted up right before our eyes. This is Manhattan, not San Francisco. I wanted to die
Mile 24– (Central Park)
I did not notice the loveliness of the park because I still wanted to die.
Mile 25 — (Central Park at Colombus Circle)
I heard someone yell my name, which I didn’t think was important until they said my last name. I turned around and saw my brother waving. I waved back. Then my brother ran ahead to slap my hand – show off. Someone else tried to slap my hand but I didn’t realize it was my sister-in-law until I passed her. I turned around and waved as if to say ‘sorry’.
Mile 26–
Meh.
26.1–
Come sweet death.
26.2–
Though I had absolutely nothing left in me, I gave it one final kick into the finish and passed this girl right at the end. She was cute. I hope she wasn’t mad.
Elapsed time: 4:49:36
Average pace: ~11
The Finish Line–
To do justice to what happened here I must write a narrative perhaps as long as this one.
TO BE CONTINUED…




