The New York City Marathon is special

Our team met at the Staten Island ferry to ride to the starting line together. One of the many unique things about this marathon is that EVERYONE needs to take some form of public transportation to the starting line.

The runners leave in waves, based on your estimated finishing time. We had some first-time marathoners in our group so we all started in the last wave so we could take some pictures together at the Bridge.

The starting cannon fired and we started running up the steady slope of the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge. The pack started to separate as we ran. Lot’s of people were pausing to take selfies on the Bridge.

There was a commotion as someone near us collapsed. Some runners were calling for help. Some police officers were walking along the bridge and they ran towards the incident. I kept running towards Brooklyn and soon an Ambulance was making its way carefully through the runners. Later I found out that several of the MD’s I was running with responded to the emergency and began administering chest compressions within seconds. Another ran back towards to start to get help. They were in the right place at the right time to help.

There were fifty thousand of us running together, so you are never alone during this race.

I was careful not to burn too much energy on the bridge and soon I descended into Brooklyn. I realized that I was going to need to take a piss break, which I did at mile 4. After that, I was determined to make up a little bit of lost time and increased my pace. Park Slope was bumping with energy.

The roads were crowded with runners and fans offering beers, waving signs and shouting encouragement. The signs in Brooklyn are the best.

I shifted into cruising mode and felt fantastic as I passed through Williamsburg. The crowds were pressed against the runners like you see on TV watching the Tour de France. They were almost too close, but the energy was infectious.

I was weaving through runners, burning energy but keeping my pace. I entered Queens and reached the halfway mark in 2 hours, slightly ahead of my 4.5 hour goal.

I continued to pass other runners on the Queensborough Bridge going into Manhattan. After the hum of Queens, the bridge is silent. I had music in my ears to stay in rhythm.

Descending into Manhattan, the miles remaining get smaller and the wall of sound of the fans cheering on 2nd Avenue is deafening. The streets are impossibly wide and it’s a straight shot to the Bronx.

I knew the Marathon route by heart, but I didn’t realize until I was running up 2nd Avenue that I was on the same avenue I had walked to visit the hospital every day to see Ankush while he was recovering.

All of the emotions of the past year bubbled up and I started to cry. My energy level surged. I ran my 2nd fastest mile of the day.

Neesha was waiting at Mile 18 with some friends and family. I saw them and waved. I wanted to stop but I also felt that if I stopped, my body would cramp, so Neesha got a high 5 and an unintelligible scream that meant “I love you” as I ran by.

A few blocks later our cousin Ashmi and her daughter Mira saw me and ran a bock alongside me shouting encouragement. The tears were mixed in with my sweat and flying off me. I was running too fast, but I didn’t care. Only 6 miles to go!

At this point in the marathon, physical fatigue sets in. More and more runners were walking and cramping up in front of me. Hydration stations get congested. My race strategy was to keep moving.

Another bridge and a slight hill into the Bronx. More music, more crowds, more encouragement. Each borough is so different. The crowd is like a relay race, they keep the energy moving. It’s a group effort from the entire City to keep the runners moving.

I took a slice of orange from a stranger, a piece of banana from someone else. I was drinking cups of water and gatorade every mile at the hydration stations and sometimes just from people along the route.

Back into Manhattan to what’s described as the hardest mile, a gradual hill down 5th Ave. Someone yelled, “Keep going! Use your arms and shoulders!”

Exerting effort to weave through runners, I felt my hamstring begin to cramp and so I downshifted and clutched the back of my left leg as I continued running, massaging the muscle with my fingers.

I took some more gatorade for the salt and ate my last packet of Gu. My hamstring relaxed and I knew my body was going to take me the distance. It’s a mind game now. The crowd urges you forward. “Keep going, You are so close to finishing!”

I use music for training runs. You don’t really need it for NYC, but it helped me finish. Meditation to forget the pain. Breathe. Just a 5k to go. You are in the Park now. The crowd is even louder and tighter. Watch out for other runners stopping to hug their friends. Take the S curves carefully. Don’t fall down. Now you are at the bottom of the park, there’s Columbus Circle. The finish line is in sight. You can do it. Keep moving!

I crossed the finish line in 4:11:56. My legs felt like cement. I had exerted every ounce of energy in the tank. I was too tired to be excited about hitting my goal. I shuffled along to accept my medal for finishing and fished a bottle of water out of the post-race goodie bag. I was soooo thirsty. I pounded the water and wrapped the orange shawl around shoulders.  This is the stage where you tell yourself, “this is my last marathon!”

It took another mile of walking before I was able to get to Neesha, Ankush, Ashmi, Mira and our other friends. By that point, I was too sore to even get my shoes off.  I leaned on Ankush and Neesha swapped out my shoes, socks and gave me some sweats and a sweatshirt to wear.

New Yorkers are famously standoffish, but Marathon day is different. Kindness from strangers is the order of the day and the medal elicits an earnest “Congratulations!!!” from everyone you see. The streets are full. The Marathon is a holiday and the City continues partying into the night. We stopped for pizza slices and walked for a bit before getting into a cab home.

At home, some high fives from the doormen, more pizza and then an ice bath > hot shower > recovery socks and stretches > water > more food, some Tylenol and then bed.

Happy 26.2!

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