TCS NYC MARATHON 2015 RACE REPORTFirst, in case you were worried--I AM ALIVE! As evidenced by me typing this right now, you can rest assured that I have not fallen off the face of the Earth. I haven't fallen far from it, but I'm still here (for now)!
The weeks and the days leading up to the marathon were just as crazy, if not more even more crazy than last year. The reason why this thread has gone cold as of late, and why there wasn't a pre-race report was because I was basically living at the hospital for about 10 days, tending to a family health emergency that required basically all of my time and energy. I won't bore/scare you with all of the details, but it was something that was very sudden, very scary, and quite emotionally draining. I missed some classes, I missed an exam, and wasn't able to do any running during the tapering period of my training. However, I was encouraged and extremely motivated to run the marathon. This was a special year--the year I was a part of the ad campaign, the year I would be running with my 4th grade teacher, and now I would be running for more than my Crohn's charity--I would be dedicating this one to my family member who I needed to be strong for. If anything, the expo and the race would give me a nice break from the stress of the hospital.
The day at the expo was a lot of fun--I went with my brother (not running) and met up with my old 4th grade teacher and her (new) family. Believe it or not, she ran the marathon when I was her student! And it just so happened that after all these years, for her 40th birthday, she decided to run it again. She was the very first person I knew who ran the NYC Marathon, and I can still remember watching the race for the first time in 2003. To make things even more surreal, my face was all over the place--they really loved that photo! After picking up our bibs and reminiscing about the troublemakers in my class back in the day, we parted ways and wished one another luck. She took her kids to the finish line and I stuck around to enjoy the festivities. Some time later, I got a text from her telling me to come to the finish line in Central Park ASAP... and then I saw why.
...In my final 15 minutes of fame, there I was--on a GIANT wall at the finish line. I mean, a HUGE HUGE HUGE wall with my photo, right where the champion's podium is set up (yes, I did end up on the broadcast during the awards ceremony...in the background, anyway LOL). I asked the security guards if I could hop the barricade and get a photo of me standing in front of it...and then the most unbelievable thing happened. An unassuming photographer comes up to me, slowly, and matter-of-factly says "Hey. That's my photo, you know." That's right... I got to meet the photographer who made me 'famous'! I thanked him profusely for doing such a great job and for the opportunity. He thanked me for my enthusiasm. Then, fittingly, we took a photo together in front of his photo of me. What a funny end to that chapter!
RACE DAY
Finally, after 7 races and another year of (somewhat disciplined) training, the moment of truth had come. It was the 1st of November. There was no fudging it anymore. It was the day of the TCS NYC Marathon!
The morning was overcast, but warm. Yes, it was the 1st of November, but one would never have guessed it. For the last two years I shivered and shook at just the thought of standing in the freezing cold for hours on end at Fort Wadsworth, layered like a mummy but chilly nevertheless. But today, even before the sun rose, I was beginning to sweat. I chose to wear tights again (scarred by the 2013 marathon where I wore only shorts and a singlet...and nearly froze to death in the morning), and that was good enough to keep me warm in the morning. I donated my throwaway layers almost right away. It was going to either turn out to be a pleasant race, or a hot one...time would tell.
This year, I was once again lucky enough to gain access to the special VIP tent! I can't exactly tell you
how I got access, but I did, by perfectly legal means, and it was even nicer than last year! The tent has walls, seats (you'd be surprised how hard seats are to come by in the start area), copies of the day's newspaper, deliciously moist muffins, hot coffee, hot chocolate, fresh fruit, private port-o-potties, and heating. Basically, it's so nice that you forget that you're about to run a race! I only spent a short time here until I left to meet with an old friend who was also running, but wow, was it nice!
I entered my corral, 1E, still very far from the front, but closer than I've ever been. My bib number was in the 9000's, the highest it has ever been. The dry conditions made for an easy wait. We were herded to the bridge, and BANG! We were off!
THE RACEMy strategy going into this race was to 'sleepwalk' through the first half, get over the Queensboro Bridge, and then treat the final 10 miles like a 10-mile race. If I could maintain something like an 8:10 pace until Manhattan, and I could speed it up considerably in those last 10 miles (like a 6:50ish pace), a 3:30 marathon would definitely be within reach. In both 2013 and 2014, I had been too aggressive in the beginning; I dipped too far below 8:00 too quickly and for too long. I flamed out badly at the tail end. This year, I wanted to try a different approach.
So, I took it really easy over the bridge, and really easy through Brooklyn. I took it really easy, spent time high-fiving a lot of spectators, and having an all-around good time. The marathon is really so much fun! Especially when you're not thinking about it as a race, it's really like a giant party and a celebration of NYC. I didn't even bother to look at my watch for a lot of the time. I just monitored my effort and felt that as long as my heart rate seemed to be below a certain threshold, and my breathing was stable, I was going to be fine.
Then it came time to put my money where my mouth was. I came to the dreaded Queensboro Bridge. And the bridge was already eating runners for breakfast, left and right of me. My legs felt okay--like they had about 16 miles under their belt, but my heart rate and composure were still nearly perfect. I was a little behind pace, but I was confident that I could catch up. As we finally crested the endless bridge, my legs felt a little beaten up, but my spirit was excited...finally, after 16 miles of being patient and holding back, the race would truly begin!
We marched down the bridge onto 1st Avenue in Manhattan to roaring applause. It is still, in my opinion, the most awesome feeling a runner can experience in a race in NYC. And then, I began to lengthen my stride. I grit my teeth, clenched my fists, and threw down the hammer. It was time to catch up. It was time to soar!
I soared past the crowds on 1st Avenue, flying uptown as the street signs whizzed by--the 60's, the 70's, the 80's... Mile 17 came quickly. I grinned as I thought to myself, "if every mile goes by this quickly, I'll be in Central Park in no time!" And I continued to soar into Harlem, and toward the Bronx, and then a very different kind of soaring happened. The kind of sore that's not so good.
As I made my climb into the Bronx, the wheels began to come loose. Before I knew it, my pace had dropped, my heart was thumping hard, and my legs were begging for mercy. I had jumped the gun. My strategy had backfired horribly. And now I had 10 kilometers of pain to look forward to. My chances for 3:30 weren't looking so good anymore.
I painfully jogged my way through the Bronx, my quads tightening with every step, my hamstrings having already abandoned ship. I stopped for gatorade and water at an aid station, something I hadn't done more than a few times up until that point. I was confused. What had happened? How had I so suddenly gone from feeling fine to feeling gutted? It was like someone shot a hole through my fuel tank and everything had gone pouring out. I was a balloon flying around, rapidly losing air. Yet, the grind continued.
By the time I had re-entered Manhattan, I could barely get my legs to keep moving. When I was still strong, I had made up for the lost time, but I was now bleeding valuable seconds, seconds I knew I couldn't regain (there was no way I would be able to physically push myself to a sub-7 pace at this point, even a sub-8 pace would have been an all-out effort). I was coming up on the hospital where my family was. Seeing my brother in the distance strengthened my resolve. I drank another gulp of gatorade and water and sprang into action. I wanted to be strong for my cheer squad, comprised of my family and friends. It was the largest cheer squad I'd ever had at a race. They even went so far as to draw giant signs for me--I did my best to hold my head up high and heroically glide to them, giving them the greatest "thank you" I could muster as I continued to run up the hill that makes up most of Mile 23. Somewhere, standing in the lobby of the hospital, watching from behind the glass, was my mother. She couldn't actually leave the building, but she was with me in spirit the entire way.
I slogged my way into Central Park, my legs seizing and freezing up from fatigue. Time continued to tick, and 3:30 was looking all but impossible. I so badly wanted to reach that goal this year--a year in which I had reached all of my time goals, even the most ambitious ones...and I so badly wanted to reprise the role of the hero in the posters that I had been made out to be. When I woke up, I had this feeling that this would be the year I could finally achieve it. But the mighty clock was a stroke too fast. 3:30 had come and gone, and there was no turning back (I could barely move forward, let alone turn in any direction!). This would not be the year, after all.
But the race continued, and as I crawled my way past the final aid stations, the crowd erupted in support for me. Minutes continued to go by. Now I was losing my chance to beat last year's time of 3:38 and set a PR. I tried to spring into action again, for one last push. But my legs refused. A smile cracked across my face as spectators continued to shout my name and show me love. I shuffled along and tried to enjoy the experience, despite the awful feelings of fatigue. My brain was fried from the stress my body had gone though, and from the lack of sleep I had gotten over the last week. The disappointment of missing 3:30 and not being able to even set a PR washed over me very quickly--all that I was concerned about at this point was finishing. Rather, SURVIVING! LOL. Four times I had run this far...and for whatever reason, it still hasn't gotten easier!
As I approached the final stretch, I tried one last time to get the engine going. And, finally, it got going! Good thing too--as I neared the finish line, my school crush (and her guy friend, of course) suddenly appeared at the sidelines to cheer me on. I whipped past them, began to soar one last time, and attempted to make one of my trademark finishes. I had had a long, long, and painful race. I had a long, painful week. But at the tail end of it, I had finished. I had completed my third official NYC Marathon. I bit Crohn's back once again.
My Splits (the bridges resulted in some really funky splits this year):
1 8:52.0
2 7:36.1
3 8:00.7
4 8:01.7
5 8:04.1
6 8:05.2
7 8:03.6
8 8:09.7
9 8:14.4
10 8:01.3
11 8:16.9
12 8:00.9
13 8:15.6
14 8:14.8
15 11:19.7
16 10:00.3
17 7:16.3
18 7:05.8
19 7:09.6
20 8:34.5
21 8:36.9
22 8:53.3
23 9:42.7
24 10:04.5
25 10:39.9
26 9:18.7
27 :52.3 0.11
Finishing time: 3:43:29 (8:32/mile)
In the end, I have mixed feelings about this year's marathon, but few excuses. The conditions were perfect for a goal-breaking race, but I ultimately paid the price for a lacking training season and a wild strategy. I had been disciplined in my training all year until September, when the long runs and the mileage count the most; if there's anything this year has confirmed for me, it is that you
really cannot cheat your way to a good marathon. You have to really do your homework and put in the mileage! You can't simply run off of race experience (unless of course you're Kenyan).
However, because I didn't really think of the marathon as a race until I crossed into Manhattan, I have to say, it was FUN! The most fun at a race I had probably all year. There's nothing like having your name called out a thousand times over the course of almost 4 hours, and seeing the spectrum of runners makes for the greatest people-watching experience a filmmaker can hope to have. I was also so happy that I had a handful of friends scattered across the course--most of whom came as a surprise, which was awesome! My extended family also got to see me run in person for the first time, and, hey, I can now say I'm a three-time marathoner!
Of course, I am disappointed that I was unable to set a PR, which hurts when you only have one shot per year, but it hasn't had a negative impact on me, it has only strengthened my motivation for next year. Yes, that's right, I am saying it right here and now, I WILL be back. And I will be back with a vengeance! But...first...time for some shake shack and a cold bath. Ahhhhhh.....
Official Results:Finishing Time: 3:43:29 (8:32/mile)
Place: 6,908th out of TBD (like 50,000)
Stay tuned for a full reflection on 2015: The Year of Discipline! Until then, enjoy some of these photos from race week (the last one is my favorite!)