Back in March of this year I was
checking my email and noticed I had two emails. One was a notification from
twitter and the other was from the NYRR (New York Road Runners). I eagerly
opened the NYRR email and read through it rapidly. Finally, after four months of
wondering what the situation would be for the 2013 ING NYC Marathon, I finally
had some concrete answers. The email outlined instructions describing the
amount of entries that would be given for people in a “guaranteed entry”
position and described the process the returning runners would need to accomplish to get a race bib. I was grinning knowing that I would be running the NYC Marathon this year. I was
also happy that the planning for this trip could officially begin. After rereading the
email for a second time I checked my other email. The email notification
from twitter was about a tweet Adam had sent me. All it said was, “April 24.”
It was referring to the new registration date for the marathon and I instantly knew he had just read
the same email. We would soon start preparations for our confirmed “runcation”
to NYC.
Immediately after the disaster of last year’s
marathon in NYC Adam and I were a bit distraught. The last minute cancellation
of the marathon hit us like a wrecking ball. Back in 2012, we had just picked
up our bibs from the expo and had bought quite a few souvenirs. We were in line
to purchase another marathon shirt when Adam’s father called and informed us
that the marathon was indeed cancelled. Adam handed the phone to me and his
father told me he was watching the news broadcasting the live announcement. I
told him we would check on it and call him back. It was true. The devastation from
hurricane Sandy had finally brought down the marathon. The people at the expo
slowly started to quiet down. The excited crowd soon became a strange
gathering. Adam and I quickly returned some of the purchases and made our way
toward the exit. Before leaving the expo we saw a crowd gathering around some
TVs that were broadcasting the announcement. It was true, the marathon was
cancelled. Some of the runners were in tears while others were hot headed and
looking for answers. I was in disbelief and it wasn’t until Adam pulled me out
of the expo and onto the shuttle bus that it hit me. I was not to be running
the NYC marathon this year.
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| Crowds gathered to confirm the cancellation in 2012 |
After dealing with the hardships of
delayed flights and cancelled hotels we decided to get home as soon as
possible. The public transportation was crowded and not running in all
locations. Taxis were sparse since gasoline stations had lines of cars blocks deep.
Hotels were charging outrageous prices due to limited space. People were
arguing in the streets and the hostility and anger could be felt in the air.
This was not the right time to run a marathon. Not here, when the city needed
to rebuild and get on its feet again. Adam and I spent the night with a friend and
left in the morning.
We arrived back in Chicago with a
bitter mood. We had spent a small fortune traveling to New York and seen firsthand
what the effects of hurricane Sandy had done. Fortunately, Adam and I weren’t completely
deflated. We still had a good attitude and decided to run the Hot Chocolate 15K race in
Chicago that next day. Instead of running a marathon in NYC we still made an
impact by wearing our NYC participant shirts and bringing attention to what was
going on with the recovery efforts. I’m proud to say that the Hot Chocolate race
actually recognized our efforts and even sent a care package in our name to the Sandy
relief effort. We made the best of the situation and began the long process of
waiting. We would wait and wait until we got the chance to once again run the
NYC Marathon.
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| Finishing the 2012 Hot Chocolate 15K with our NYC outfits (Hot Chocolate bibs were on the back, no bandits here!) |
And now here we were, both Adam and I again
in New York City in November. A year later we were standing among the sea of
people on the Verrazano Narrows Bridge waiting to begin the last part of our 2
year journey. It was all happening so fast, yet at the same time, it was like
time standing still. It had that spellbinding feeling of knowing you’re about
to enter something you’ve been excited about for a long time. For kids it might
be that moment before entering Disney World for the first time or for teenagers
going to their first Homecoming dance. But as adults, we rarely encounter a
moment of extreme anticipation before an exciting event. Finishing college,
getting married, or the birth of a child all have great emotional connotations.
However, those accomplishments are often a more personal celebration with close
family and friends. So standing here among a crowd of runners from all over the
world brought back that special feeling that would be uniquely shared with not
just these 50,000 runners, but with 12,000 volunteers, 2 million spectators,
and everyone else involved with the 2013 ING NYC Marathon.
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| Special bracelet given to returning marathoners |
The national anthem was played over
dozens of loudspeakers and was sung by a chorus of children. Promptly following
was the start of the elite fields and a brief motivational speech by the race
director Mary Wittenberg and Mayor Michael Bloomberg. The 353
rd Army
Civil Command set off the howitzer canons to signal the start and the shuffle
toward the start line began. Frank Sinatra and his orchestra serenaded us with the iconic "New York New York" song as we
began the race. I crossed the start line and with a shout of joy I had begun
the NYC Marathon.
The calmness from the Staten Island
Ferry a few hours ago was completely gone. That ride had its own quality that
will not be forgotten easily. Seeing the Statue of Liberty and feeling the
chilly breeze had me shed the first of many tears that day. I’m not usually an
overly emotional person, but I couldn’t help but feel so blessed and fortunate
to be here today. Looking at the mountainous skyscrapers and seeing the rising
sun reflect off them made me realize that this life we live truly is wonderful.
Just taking in the view that symbolizes the freedom this country stands for
resonated deeply with me. Freedom is life and a choice. Some are born into it
while others fight their way to reach it. But for many Americans they are
unaware of how much freedom they have. They take it for granted and although
they live in a free society, they have yet to truly free themselves beyond the
social constructs and liberate their bodies and minds. I’m talking about
freeing yourself from limits your mind may have preordained. If I were to count
how many people have told me they could never run a marathon, well it would be
a marathon of a task itself. That feeling when you finish something you once
thought impossible is the lesson that running can teach you. And although I am
referring to the accomplishment of finishing a marathon, I am also addressing
the microcosm that running reflects in other aspects of life.
But why are those limits in place
to begin with? Some of us grow in less than ideal environments in which we are
never encouraged to go beyond our expectations. Sure, we see TV shows and
movies telling us we can be anything we want, but the ones that influence us
the most may not always encourage that behavior. With limited goals we can
never reach the stars that await our arrival. Running for long stretches of time personally teaches you these lessons that may have been overlooked during one's childhood.
But sometimes limits really are necessary, especially when safety is concerned. The security involved with this
race was like a presidential arrival. Armed Guards were at every post starting
at the Staten Island ferry. All bags were inspected before we could get to the
waiting area. Then once again before boarding we were watched and scanned as we made our
way onto the ferry. The ride itself was escorted by the Coast Guard and NYPD
boats with their guns displayed and ready. After getting off the ferry we were
checked again before boarding the shuttle buses that transported us to the
start village. Once we got off the bus the security tightened even more. There were
police dogs and police officers everywhere. It felt like a transient TSA operation. We
were instructed to wait for the next available police officer to scan us with
metal detector wands then frisk us and make sure we were just carrying runners' supplies. And
after the gentle grouping by New York’s finest I was warmed physically and also
warmed in my heart knowing our safety was a priority here today.
These security measures continued
throughout the course and I was happy to have such vigilance during the
marathon. But to understand why this race was protected so intensely we have to
recall the Boston tragedy that changed the way all major marathons function. That
cowardly act of hurting innocent people has put a limit and restriction on the
way these marathons are held. But just like our lives that have laws and moral
standards, these limits shouldn’t hold us back. We should acknowledge them and
learn that we can still go beyond the expectations they set. Looking at the way
this marathon was being run, it would have been easier to get scared and decide
not to participate in something that could be potentially dangerous. The
attempt of another terrorist attack was a possibility. And the decision of willingly putting your
body through a physically demanding activity is also not for the faint of heart.
Fortunately, I have some experience of pushing my body beyond its limits and with the
support of the entire city of New York I knew I could face the challenges of this race. I also
had another “Ace” up my sleeve. I had the opportunity to catch a Broadway show
(Big Fish) while in town and one particular line had stuck with me.
“Those who face their fears, lead
the most interesting lives” – The Witch
With this encouraging advice I knew
this day would be interesting to say the least. I felt a little like Edward
Bloom of Big Fish at the start of this marathon. I was going to face my fears
and give this marathon my all. I had been dealing with quite a bit of taper
tantrums (phantom pains/panic attacks) leading up to this marathon. The fact
that I was nervous had me uneasy to begin with. I am rarely nervous going into
a race especially having accomplished much in the Ultra community (50k’s,
Ragnar, and 50 milers). Nonetheless it was a nerve wrecking experience going
into it. I was in peak marathon racing form and had no lingering injuries. So
when these phantom pains struck me I grew scared that I wasn’t going to perform
at my peak for this marathon. On top of that I had these small panic attacks of
just sheer excitement. I was going to be running on the world’s largest stage
for marathoners. I was aware that I was at the prime age of 27 where most
athletes peak in their lifetime. Also, I was returning to my first road
marathon since 2011 and my first competitive one since my first marathon back
in 2009. And lastly, I had some friendly competition between my brother Marvin
and close friend Adam going into this race. I wanted to perform well and say
that I tried my best. Therefore, I had an A, B, and C goal all prepared. My C
goal was to simply PR at this race and beat my old time of 3:29:39. My B goal
was to BQ (Boston Qualify) and finish in under 3:05. And my A goal was to try
my hardest and finish leaving everything on the course.
The marathon was under way as the 50,000 runners started their 26.2 mile journey through the 5 boroughs of New York City. As the momentum increased I took a
brief second to look behind me and see the endless crowd of runners in
procession running across the longest suspension bridge in America. The NYPD
helicopters patrolled the skies, the Coast Guard boats watched the rivers and
bays, and the runners did their running. I was quickly losing myself in the
moment. It was windy on the bridge and the cloudy skies embellished us with
perfect running weather. The excitement of entering Brooklyn and meeting the
famous crowds of New Yorkers was driving me forward.
As the course brought me into
Brooklyn I was a little shocked at how crowded the race still was. I had been
told that the race never really opens up and that you will run with crowds of
people for the whole race. Of course, the same had been said of the Chicago
Marathon, but if you are in the faster corrals (A-C) it does open up a bit
toward the end. Since I was in Wave 1 here I figured it would probably open up
as well toward the end of the course. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Just as
I was settling into a pace I noticed somebody wearing a Sycamore Pumpkin 10K
race shirt. This was the race I had run a week ago in the town down the street
from me. I was shocked and told the runner I had just ran that race last week. He
was as startled as I was. He thought nobody would know where that town was, yet
alone, actually have been a part of that same race too. We got to know each
other for about a mile before I took off ahead. I had to laugh at the
coincidence since the chances of meeting someone from down the street of where
I live are extremely low. This race has the largest number of international
runners and more often than not, the runners I tried to talk to would just
smile since they were from another country.
I can honestly say that everything
I’ve been told about this race is true. I had heard countless people say this
race is a must do. It’s on almost all the bucket lists on blogs and running
magazines. They say that this race is the best in the world. I can see why they
say that. The crowds are incredibly intoxicating. I started noticing the spectators getting
louder the deeper we got into Brooklyn. And again the international community
was noticed when various countries were represented with their flags on display
by the spectators. I started running on the outside of the pack and noticed
that it was an instant motivational boost as people would read my name I had
written on my shirt and cheered me on. Also the amount of outstretched hands
waiting to give us runners a hi-five was never on short supply. The entire
course from this moment on felt like a concert. The screams and cheering from
the spectators would only quell on the bridges which the spectators were not
allowed access to. I was so entranced with the cheering that it really didn’t
feel like I was running at all. The miles ticked by and I kept on pace. I was
drinking fluids at the aid stations and eating my nutrition at the right
intervals.
Once I reached the half way mark
(mile 13.1) I felt a bit of sadness knowing that I was already half done with
this marathon. I also was feeling the cool breeze as we crossed the second
bridge and headed into Queens. Again the raucous fanfare continued throughout this borough until the
next bridge. The Queensboro bridge was deceptively long. There were number
signs along the bridge that must have been for vehicle traffic because looking at them
increasing from 1 to 10 really didn’t make any sense. I kept wondering how high
the numbers would get before the bridge ended. I knew the end of the bridge was
near as I could see the brilliance of this course design up ahead. A few
hundred yards ahead I could see the wall of spectators waiting to yell their
lungs out to us as we entered Manhattan and the famed First Avenue.
"When you run up First Avenue in New York, if you don't get goose bumps, there's something wrong with you." - Frank Shorter
The quick descent off the
Queensboro bridge led us right into the electric cheers from thousands of people
cheering and screaming for us. I couldn’t help but feel chills, both from the
encouragement and from the strong winds. I ran looking to my left and right. I
still couldn’t believe how many people were out here cheering on so many
complete strangers. This tugged at my heart strings again as I realized that
this city is full of life. People represent life and life is wonderful. Running
out here in the streets of one of the most populous cities in the world and
surrounded by millions of people is an experience. Having so many individuals
rooting for us and basking in all that positive energy just leaves you feeling
like there is nothing you can’t do. My mind was in ecstasy and I was in love
with the moment. Unfortunately, the moment wouldn’t last forever as my body
would soon send a reminder that we are all human.
The long tunnel of spectators would
be paused briefly as we crossed the next bridge heading into the Bronx. The
Bronx was a whirlwind as the sun was coming out and the cheers were deafening
with the increasing brightness. The entire borough was out and people were
catching the action from their stoops, rooftops, and balconies. The next bridge
brought us back into Manhattan and the long tunnel of spectators picked up
right where we had last seen them. Both sides were full and I was grateful they
would be there. My legs at this time decided that I wouldn’t be continuing on
at a PR pace. Instead they would have a much more rewarding experience in mind.
I got to mile 22 and noticed my quads would begin to twitch slightly. I eat my
last gel and pushed on. My legs held together but again right at mile 23 my
quads were starting to rebel again. I kept running and noticed that the more I
slowed down the more the twitching would increase. I decided to keep running
and hopefully push these looming cramps away. I managed to run for about
another minute and felt the cramps extend into my left calf and even the bottom
of my left foot. I was now running with my calf twitching and my left toes
doing involuntary curls while my whole left foot was turning outward with each
step. I decided I needed to slow down otherwise my entire leg might give out
and I would collapse.
It’s not that I was afraid of
collapsing. In fact, I went into this race planning on collapsing but with the intent on doing so after
I crossed the finish line. I was upset that if I collapsed here I would need to
crawl 3 miles to get to the finish. Because whatever the circumstance, there
was no way that I wasn’t going to cross that finish line. As soon as I slowed
my pace down the cramps immediately began to take control. I gripped my
pulsating left quad and desperately tried to maintain my balance. I was trying
to move over to the far left side of the course so as to not block the other runners, but I
was paralyzed. I tried leaning on my right leg and then the right calf cramped
up. I felt a pain I never felt before. Not being able to move my legs I just bent over on my knees and tried to massage my cramping quads. I panicked for a brief moment.
It wasn't long before the magic happened. As I looked down at my fatigued legs I started feeling something incredible. I felt some
pats on my back and runners waving to me as they passed me running along. That got
me to look up and see them running ahead. The sun was shining and as I squinted
I looked behind me to see the endless flow of runners still coming. Then I
found the right component to focus my attention to. I looked to my left and saw
the relentless crowds cheering for me. They called out my name and told me to
keep moving. It only took a moment but I straightened up and felt a wave of
confidence come over me. As I yelled and choked on more tears, I triumphantly
was able to take one step. The crowd went crazy and encouraged me even more. I
managed a smile and a quick wave and took another excruciating step forward. Then
I took another and another until I was able to walk. I felt so entranced in the
moment knowing I could finish. I also knew the next 3 miles would be a
wonderful crucible of my character.
“Run the first part with your head,
the middle part with your personality, and the last part with your heart.” –
Mike Fanelli
Running Coach Mike Fanelli knew
what he was talking about. My heart would be getting one hell of a workout the
last part of this marathon. With my legs somewhat returning I was able to start
running again. And again to test my character my legs gave out, this time in
the opposite order. My right quad cramped up and my left calf followed. I was
feeling the pain, but at the same time I loved my failure. It was the best place to have a shutdown like
I was facing. I could have broken both my ankles and I still would have
finished. That crowd is dangerously powerful. Luckily I was just suffering
muscle fatigue and after a few minutes of stretching I was on the move again. I
continued this cycle for the next 3 miles. I would cramp up, stand still while
massaging, walk a bit, jog next, and then run. Then the cycle would begin again
and I would be immobilized with pain, tears, and sheer enjoyment of
experiencing such catastrophe among the best environment that mankind can
create. I wish I had the energy to tell those cheering fans how much they meant
to me, but I’m sure they already know. They don’t call this marathon the best
in the world for nothing.
I eventually made my way through
Central Park and saw the “100 yards to go” sign. I looked at the clock and saw
it was almost at the 4 hour mark. I decided I would beat that mark and finish
strong. I transitioned from my jog to a run. The run immediately activated my
cramping reflex and by the time I had 50 yards to go my left leg was completely
seized up again. I wasn’t going to quit now and literally hopped on my right
leg sprinting across the finish line. I managed to jump at the finish and scream
with joy as I had completed the 2013 ING NYC Marathon.
The wonderful volunteers at the
finish area took immediate care of me. I was in totally cramping position again.
Bent over at the knees I was just smiling and wallowing in pain. I had gotten
accustomed to brushing off the volunteers and medical staff along the last 3
miles telling them that I was in pain and I was hurting but I could absolutely finish. I
didn’t want assistance as that would disqualify me from being an official
finisher. I had even walked by a medical station at mile 25 and did my best to
walk through the pain so as to not be pulled from the race. So when the
volunteer was offering help here at the finish and I was refusing, it wasn’t until he reminded me
that I had crossed the finish line already and his help wouldn’t disqualify me.
I laughed and realized he was right. I instantly agreed to his help and placed
my arm around his shoulder. He escorted me to receive my medal and found me a
wheelchair. As I sat there and he helped massage my cramps away it all began to
soak in. Here I was suffering more than I ever have before and I couldn’t help
but look at all the other finishers and feel complete satisfaction. I had run with
all my heart on that day and I had accomplished something amazing. It wasn’t my
prettiest race, but I loved every second of it. The city, the volunteers, the
runners, the doggies, and the crowds made that one day in the Big Apple one that
I will remember forever. The NYC marathon is unlike any other marathon and I’ll
leave you with the words that someone once told me: If you get the chance to
run New York, do it. You won’t regret it.
I would like to thank everyone who
supported me on this almost 2 year journey. Thank you to everyone who donated
to my charity Cell Mates on the Run last year and for all of you who wished me
luck and warm thoughts going back this year to finish what I started. A special thank you to my friends Lisa and James for coming to support us runners. A fraternal thanks to my brother for joining us on this wonderful journey, and lastly a dear thanks to Adam for initiating this entire endeavor with his lucky entry via the lottery back in 2012.
One last note, I also
decided the moment after I crossed the finish line that I would absolutely love
to run this race again. So if anyone has the itch to run NYC, let me know and I
might come back for the ride.
