Race Report: NYC Marathon, 11/6/16
Every race, I have three goals: to have fun, to avoid injury and (of course) to be faster. In this race, I managed to accomplish the first two – a vast improvement over last year, the first time I did this race.
Executed terrific logistics in getting there. My friends Dietmar Serbee (from Cologne, Germany, now running buddy in Hastings on Hudson) and Juan Berton Moreno (from Buenos Aires, Argentina, who traveled 12 hours for this race, and stayed with me for a few days!) joined me at an Airbnb in Staten Island on Saturday night to avoid the crazy shlep and wait at the Verrazano Bridge.
My goal was to break 3:30 at 8:00 min/mile or less in order to qualify for Boston for my age group. That’s feasible, based on the 3:31 I had done at the New Jersey (flat, flat) Marathon in 2014. Also, I wanted revenge for my 4:13 NYC Marathon last year, when I hadn’t trained enough for this race (after recovering from a big season of triathlons). Though assigned to corral D, I joined Corral F to be with the pacer for a 3:30 race – not to follow the pacer, but to start with a less yahoo crowd.
BOOM! A Howitzer starts the race!
I did the first four miles, pretty much as planned, staying in heart rate zone 1, but slipping into zone 2 (141-151 beats per minute) and then tried to stay there for the rest of the race. I focused, staying in the middle of the road (yes, Coach Debi, there WAS a blue line painted to show the most efficient tangents, and it felt like something friendly I could depend on), running pretty strong, but I started tanking after mile 12.
I’ve tried to figure out what went wrong, that I slowed down so much so quickly. Debi thinks that I think too much, but I think she’s wrong. (“No, Doctor, I’m not in denial!”). I wasn’t getting despondent as my time dropped from 8:00 minute miles to 8:12 to 8:20… rather, 8:38 and slower was resulting from feeling early fatigue. And I grew to accept early on that this was not going to be a PR. So, I think I was too focused on heart rate instead of form. Getting into the stride I developed this season, and firing off my legs in a straight line at the end of each step, takes more effort. But attempting to minimize that effort, I wore myself out by firing up my hamstrings and adductors instead of engaging the much heartier glutes.
If I’ve figured out how to make the next race better, I’ll be totally satisfied with this race. Because Brooklyn was amazing – shouting out to drummer Art Lillard, with whom I had played 20 years ago; passing a gospel choir sounding so much better than the Very Loud Rock Bands (turns out, it was the church of Karen Hemmings, our admin assistant); marveling at the silence of the Hasidic blocks in Williamsburg (no one there to watch, let alone cheer, such immodestly dressed runners; it’s another world, man…).
Starting at mile 14, I started walking every water stop (instead of every other). And then I started walking between water stops, including up the infamous Queensboro Bridge.
But the roar of Manhattan was, as everyone says, huge and uplifting. And I realized: there’s no shame in walking. In fact, there’s no shame AT ALL. This really is MY race. Not qualifying for Boston hardly equates to failure. I’m running the NYC Marathon; what a blessing that I can run; what an amazing, huge event this; look at all these people! Total strangers shouting out “PRIMO! Vamos, Primo!” (Because I’ve ironed “Primo” onto my shirt in honor of cousin Rob, who is my inspiration to compete and has to defer running marathons),
and THERE’S RACHEL, my wife, she found me around 90th and 1st Avenue, I had told her that if things are going well I wouldn’t slow down to hug her, but I stop and she starts to say “You’re doing gr…” stops herself and says “You’re going to be OK”, and I agree with her, and keep on slogging (still staying upright, popping EAA’s and chewable saltstick tabs now and then, but just not able or willing to PUSH THROUGH and get faster).
And Ken Fuirst (high school acquaintance, renewed friend through the gym) is THERE at mile 19.5, just as promised, just like last year, and he joins me while I’m jogging / walking and tells me “don’t worry about making that PR”, me: “oh, that’s gone out the window a while ago”, Ken: “you’ve accomplished a lot” because we’ve talked about other races, and then laughs at “we’re getting older!”, me: “I’m gonna walk, but I’ll be OK,” and I am so moved at his generosity and affirmation. And more strangers saying “You look great!” (“You’re lying, but thank you!”), and biking/commuter friend Sean Sheely is handing out water at Mile 22, big smile and encouraging, and Dietmar (who started in Wave 2, 25 minutes after I started) pats me on the back and passes me (he’s terrific and smiling and gets a 6-minute PR), and one woman, I think in upper Manhattan, big and light brown hair and sunglasses, I can’t remember anything but the sun shining onto her and her huge smile and shout out and that’s for ME, that’s for ALL of us, this is amazing. So many people, a million spectators for 50,000 runners, 200 folks cheering for every athlete, simply tremendous.
I’m walking a lot, but when I get to downhills (like the Willis Avenue Bridge, and after entering Central Park) I run (come on, it’s downhill!) and I don’t want to be that guy who threw up so I’m walking again, but I do the math and realize with a little more effort I can do better than last year, and I owe it to these huge crowds in the final 0.2 miles to push harder, and I cross the line with a 2-minute course PR.
4:11:36. 40 minutes slower than my best marathon.
Plan B had been to take a Metro card in the bottom of my shoe (which I did), save my legs by quitting halfway, and run the Philadelphia Marathon in two weeks. And I had actually researched: registration for Phillie was open until 11/11/16. But even though I had nothing to prove – I mean, I know I can run this distance! — I never really wanted to quit, just for the sake of a better result. I can’t say the crowd gave me more courage and more speed, but I can say the crowd made me so very grateful to be at such an amazing event. And in this awful, fractious and frightening post-election world, enjoying the unity and hope and the affirmation was a blessing.
Hey, I just finished a marathon.
