New York City Marathon 2011
By: Jonathan Halter
My “Second First Marathon”
You may have seen this phrase used by Dennis Livesay and Mark Ulrich through UCRR’s NYC tracking email thread, and wondered, “What are they talking about?” Through this training cycle, I have referred to New York as my “Second First Marathon” (hey, if there can be a Fifth Third Bank, there can certainly be a Second First Marathon!).
A little background
Why is this my second first marathon? Well, to make a long story short, I had a not-so-pleasant first marathon experience in 2009. I don’t talk about it much, and that’s mainly because it was truly the most painful experience my body has ever gone through. I swore I’d never do another. Later on I realized that my experience was of my own doing: I didn’t respect the distance; I rushed through training, and paid dearly for it during the race. That was truly a humbling experience. I wanted a do-over. I needed a do-over. I knew that until I ran a marathon in which I truly felt I had properly trained, then I had unfinished business. When I found out that I qualified for NYC (thanks Dave Harris!) with my time in the 2010 Thunder Road Half, I took it as a sign: it was time for my do-over!
Race weekend
Let’s start at the beginning: The Expo. If you have not experienced a marathon expo with Diane and Patrick, you have NOT experienced a marathon expo! I am so glad we hit it on Friday, so that I’d have a day of recovery before the race. Diane, her friend Jaime and I hit the expo first, and then Patrick joined us within about an hour. After a while, Jaime and I found a spot on the floor near the cash registers to sit and rest while Diane continued shopping. Diane would disappear into the racks of ASICS gear, and then reappear with more stuff! After a while, she finally decided that she was done, and we headed to the registers to settle up. As we stood in line I thought to myself “I’m glad this is finally over; I’m getting tired!” Just then Diane said “are you ready for the expo?!?!” to which I replied “I thought this was the expo…” Diane then informed me that we had just been in the official (ASICS) race gear section (i.e., tip of the iceberg) and had not even stepped into the main part of the expo containing all of the different vendor booths! We ran into Théoden (who was spending Friday night with friends), as well as many other Charlotte runners at the expo, including Beverly Kastel, another runner who we had met a few weeks prior at a NYC marathon meet up that Théoden had organized. I think we have convinced Beverly to join UCRR!
Hazel had a late flight and came straight to the expo. She joined us with enough time to get her bib, race bag, and T-shirt. Shortly after that, we left for dinner. Hazel had the best expo strategy: get there and take care of business, with minimal time on her feet, then get out!
Hazel, Diane, Shelley (Diane’s friend from NY), Beverly, Patrick, Jaime, and I had dinner at Serafina. We had a nice dinner where Hazel introduced me to Stella, which ended up being the beer of choice throughout the weekend.
Saturday morning I slept in until 8:30 and it felt great! I took my time getting up, and then went out for a 4 mile run around the city, just to shake the nerves out. The weather was beautiful; temps were around 43 at the time of my run. It was very refreshing.
I met up with the others and we went to VYNL for brunch, which was a funky cool little diner on 9th or 10th. I had their combo breakfast of eggs, sausage, French toast, pancakes and fruit! I highly recommend it if you find yourself in NYC (just don’t order the grits!).
We hooked up with Théoden in the afternoon, and hung out at Hazel and Diane’s room at the Sheraton until dinnertime. Hazel and Diane’s room ended up being “UCRR Central,” our meet up place throughout the weekend. Thanks to Hazel and Diane for being such great hostesses, and letting us come over and invade your space anytime we wanted!
Théoden had booked reservations for us at a great Italian restaurant called Nizza. As we made our way to Nizza, Diane and Hazel begged and pleaded with us to let them get pictures with the Naked Cowboy in Times Square. Of course, we couldn’t deny them this pleasure. If you haven’t seen the pictures, check it out on Facebook!
At Nizza, I had the Sunday pasta with meatballs and Italian sausage and it was absolutely delicious. Our server was very personable and a budding runner in her own right. She was born, raised and currently lives in Brooklyn, yet has never watched the NYC Marathon! We told her she should definitely come out the next morning to witness it because we run right through Brooklyn on 4th Ave, and her response was “oh, I’ve never been over that far.”
Race morning
Théoden and I woke up at 5am, knowing we needed to be out of the hotel and headed to the subway no later than 5:45. We got dressed in our brand-new UCRR gear (!), grabbed our bags and were out the door on time. The temps were in the low 40’s, so we bundled up well.
We hit the subway and made our way to the Staten Island Ferry dock. We were just in time for the 6:30 ferry, and were some of the first runners on board. We settled into some seats near the men’s room on the lower deck, and I hit that straight away. I’m glad I did because the line quickly grew very long.
The sun started to come up as we made our way to Staten Island. Not a cloud in the sky; the air was cool and crisp but the sun was so bright that it felt much warmer than the temperature (low 40’s) suggested. Off in the distance we could see the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, which makes up the first 2 miles of the course. It’s a massive bridge with an impressive elevation gain. Théoden promised that you really don’t even feel it; I later found out he was right.
We got off the ferry and waited for a friend before boarding the bus. Once Mischell found us, we made our way to the bus line. We stood in one that looked too long, then skipped to another. The bus started boarding, and from the looks of the line in front of us, we were on the edge of either not making it, or being the last ones. We ended up boarding the bus as the very last 3 runners. This meant that all of the seats were taken, and we had to stand for the entire bus ride, which was longer than the ferry ride (~ 30 minutes, it seemed). The bus was SO hot; it was like a sauna in there! That made for a long, hot ride.
We finally got to the village, but before we went in we hit the bank of porta potties right outside the bus stop. There was a line (of course) but not too bad, it took us maybe 5-10 minutes or so to get into one. Once we entered the village area, we noticed a large bank of unused, no-line porta potties right there (of course)!
I was “Green,” Théoden was Orange, and Mischell was Blue. There were separate villages for each starting color, so we wished each other luck and parted ways. I grabbed a bagel and Power Bar for breakfast, and made my way to the Green village. As I was entering the Green village, several race officials stopped us yelling “athletes coming through, athletes coming through!” They parted the crowd, so I stepped aside. Just then a gate flew open and out rolled the wheel chair, hand cycle, and Wounded Warrior participants. We all just dropped what we were holding to clap and cheer as they made their way to the starting line. I got a little choked up at that moment.
I checked my bag and quickly made my way over to the corrals at about 8:40. Temps (I’m guessing) were around mid-40s at the start. At around 9:10, we finally got called to make our way to the start, so we left the corrals and bunched up on an on ramp of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. Green runs the lower deck; Orange and Blue on the upper. I’ve been told you DON’T want the lower deck, but I actually enjoyed the extra shade for the first 2 miles.
The Race
As we made our way out of the corrals and to that start, they introduced and sent off the elite women. A bit later on introduced the elite men. The National Anthem was sung, followed shortly by a giant “BOOM!” The first thought that popped into my head was “COOL, there’s fireworks!” As I looked all around the sky for the fireworks, I noticed the crowd inching forward and around me. I then thought, “Where are you guys going?? You’re going to miss the fireworks!” I looked back at the start and noticed the clock ticking. “Oh, that loud boom must’ve been the starting gun; more like a start canon… I’d better get a move on!” I crossed the starting mat around 1:15 – 1:20ish.
The first mile was slow. I knew it was going to be due to the crowd, and I welcomed it. I did NOT want to go out too fast. I noticed that by the mile 1 marker that my Garmin read 0.89mi… Oh No! Being on the lower deck must be messing with the GPS signal, and I’m already off by .11 in just a single mile!
The second mile, Théoden warned me the night before, is one that is easy to get carried away on. Once you crest the bow of the bridge, it’s a very generous downhill slope. You start to get some elbow room as the runners space out, and you naturally pick up the pace. There are a lot of runners around you that just fly by, and it’s easy to get caught up with them, but I kept my cool, and ran it as slowly as I could.
We were out of the shadow of the bridge and into daylight by the 2nd mile marker. I manually hit the lap button on my Garmin at that point so that the Garmin splits would (hopefully) be in sync with the subsequent mile markers. I just made a mental note that the first mile is long, and the second one is short on my splits.
During mile 3, I heard a voice come up behind me: “Charlotte, North Carolina! I’m from Charlotte too!!” I looked to my right at a complete stranger, thinking, “How’d you know?” Then I realized that our new UCRR shirts have our URL, city and state on the back. GREAT idea, Chris and Jack! We chatted it up for the next mile. He’s a triathlete and just did a half ironman last month. He asked what I wanted to do and I said 3:15. He replied with “me too” then promptly dropped the hammer and took off; I never saw him again.
Since Green started on the lower deck, after the bridge we were all alone for a stretch. There was little-to-no crowd support until we merge back with Orange and Blue on 4th Ave. As we approached 4th, I could see the runners and hear the rumble of the crowds. It was absolutely awesome! We merged onto 4th Ave and for as far as I could see was a sea of runners, and spectators on both sides about 4 deep just going crazy!
Mile splits 1 – 3: 8:48 (long), 6:03 (short), 7:28 (just right!)
I planned to work my way up to race pace in the first 5 miles, starting at 7:50, and knocking off 5 seconds each mile. I ended up ahead of schedule. By mile 4 I was at 7:22. I couldn’t seem to keep it slower than that; I was definitely caught up in the energy of the crowd! The bands were rocking, the people were high-fiving the runners. The miles just clicked by one after another:
Mile splits 4 – 10: 7:22, 7:14, 7:15, 7:14, 716, 7:19, 7:13
Somewhere around the northern part of Brooklyn, we ran through a Jewish neighborhood. Once we turned the corner, the vibe instantly changed from loud Brooklyn to very peaceful and quiet Brooklyn. They were lined up-and-down the streets, but a very reserved group of spectators. It was cool to see the different neighborhoods, and amazing how quickly they changed.
Around the halfway point, we approached a bridge and I thought “Yay! We’re at the Queensboro Bridge (QBB)!” As we ran across it I thought to myself “Everyone complains about the QBB being a tough part of the course… that wasn’t so bad!” It didn’t take long for me to realize that off in the distance and fast approaching was the actual QBB. I then realized my mistake! The earlier, much smaller bridge that brought us into Queens was the Polaski Bridge; the Queensboro was still to come.
Mile splits 11 – 14: 7:28, 7:28, 7:18, 7:21 (bridge)
In mile 14, I started to feel my calves twinge. It wasn’t bad; I could still run, but as we approached the QBB, I started to worry. We got there and started climbing it, which is a pretty healthy elevation gain. The twinge went away for a brief moment, and I chalked it up to climb shortening my stride. As we crested the top of the bridge (mile 15), I found the 3:15 pace guy! He was still holding his balloons, so I knew he was the one. I was like AWESOME! I wanted to keep him in my sights!
We started down the other side of the bridge and the twinge returned in my calves. As we got to the bottom of the bridge, we turned left through kind of a cloverleaf and that’s when my right calf just locked up! I immediately had to stop. I staggered to the side of the course and started doing calf stretches. One of the race officials approached to ask if I was OK and to see if I needed anything. I told her I was fine and that I just needed to stretch. I then asked if I could lean on her while I stretched and she said certainly! I must’ve stopped for about 80 – 90 seconds, and the pace group that I had just found was riding off into the sunset. All I could think was “Is this it? Am I finished? Will I be able to continue to run with this cramp?” It was a very scary moment in the race for me.
I looked up ahead, and I was about ¼ mile from the Gatorade/water station. I decided that I needed to get back into the race, and try to make it there. I thanked the nice woman for helping me and was back on track. I had to take miles 16 – 17 slowly as I loosened the calf back out.
Mile splits 15 – 17: 7:58 (QBB), 8:22 (stop-and-stretch), 8:13 (recoup)
By mile 18 I was feeling relatively better. I had found a gait that I could maintain pace and manage to keep my calf from locking up. The crowds started to become a blur, and I focused on my calves and pain management. Mile 20 is where we enter the Bronx; by mile 21, we’re leaving. All I remember from within the Bronx was the gangsta rapper on the stage throwin’ down some mad rhymes. As we approached the Madison Ave Bridge to exit the Bronx, I saw 4 NYPD cops waving red flags, diverting runners to either the left or right side of the bridge. As we passed I noticed a runner passed out cold in the middle of the bridge, and they were keeping her from being trampled. This was the first time I’ve ever seen someone passed out unconscious in a race, and it was a little disconcerting.
I noticed that I could no longer calculate my time as I passed each mile clock. I figured that the ability to do math in my head is inversely proportional to the number of miles I’ve run! This made it hard for me to get a handle on how much time I had to make up for a 3:15.
Mile splits 18 – 21: 7:23, 7:17, 7:22, 7:33 (bridge)
Miles 22 through 24 were (for me) the longest miles of the course, especially that 24th mile. We had just left the Bronx and were back in Manhattan, we were approaching the upper eastside of Central Park, and then running alongside of it. The last part of mile 24 is where we cut into the actual park.
Mile splits 22 – 24: 7:33, 7:19, 7:37
Central Park was absolutely CRAZY! It was so loud that I actually found some new energy. You know what else I found… MR 3:15 PACE GUY! Towards the end of 24 as we dipped into the park, there he was, trucking along and still holding his stick with the balloons!! I got right behind and started cruising with him for a while. About halfway into mile 25, I channeled the crowd’s energy and dropped the hammer. I left the pacer as fast as he left me at mile 16! Calves were not locking up, and I was giving it all that I could. Not knowing what his start offset was, I figured if I was in front of him, I still had a chance. I stopped looking at my watch because I wasn’t able to calculate anyways. For the next 2 miles, I just put my head down and started dropping road kill one after the other!
Mile splits 25 – 26: 7:09, 7:04
We turned right and ran west along the south side of the park, then turned back in, headed north towards the finish. The last .2 miles took forever. Once I saw the official clock at the finish line read 3:17:xx, it took the wind out of my sails; considering my start offset, I was about a minute over. I cruised in.
Official Finish Time: 3:16:06 (PR by 1:03:33)
All-in-all, not a bad second first marathon! I was able to make peace with this distance; I feel that I truly put the time into training for this one, and my experience was far-and-away better than the first. I enjoyed every second of it (except the calf cramp!). Will I do another? MOST DEFINITELY!
I want to thank my biggest fans: my wife Virginia and my kids Micah and Maya for putting up with me during this past year. Coming to my races and cheering me on, being patient on the weekends as I do my long runs, and for giving me the support during my fall training and during the race. I wish you could have made the trip with me! I also want to thank my “running family,” UCRR. You’ve made me enjoy running again. I get so much from our runs; not just the workout: your knowledge, experience, and advice that have helped me all along the way. Oh, and wine has helped too!
—–
The Good
I was blessed with a GREAT group of experienced marathoners to make this trip with. BONUS: Diane and Théoden have both run this race before, so they knew the logistics and had great advice for me. DOUBLE BONUS: Hazel, Patrick and Diane have all lived in New York before; they knew the city, and that helped me throughout the weekend. They were my “New York City Marathon Dream Team!”
Getting a hotel closer to the finish than I had originally booked: GREAT idea (thanks Théoden!)
The Bad
I’ve got to figure out how to get a handle on my calf cramps. This happens to me towards the end of my half marathons (twinges, not complete lockup), and it started in mile 14 in NYC: essentially around the end of a half marathon. After the calf lockup in mile 16, I was fortunate enough to be able to stretch it out enough to continue on in this race. (open to suggestions!)
The logistics of this race were overwhelming. Having to get up almost 5 hours before your start time, take a subway, ferry, and then bus ride to the start, lots of standing and walking took its toll on me; I was tired before we even started the race! It’s probably not the best race choice for a newbie like me to attempt a BQ.
However, would I trade the experience of running NYC for a BQ? Absolutely NOT! I’ll try again; maybe even Myrtle Beach in a few months (right, Hazel?! 
* * *
By: Theoden Janes
New York? Again? Just my luck.
I’m probably not the luckiest man on the planet, but as the New York City Marathon lottery goes, I’ve got a pretty good batting average.
First year I applied, boom. In. Ran NYC 2009 as my first 26.2. Second year I applied, no dice. Was just trying to rack up the rejections, anyway, so I could do it again in 2013. But I applied again this past year, and — boom — my number came up again.
So I’m standing there Sunday on the base of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, Staten Island side, surrounded by thousands of other runners from all over the world. There’s an NYPD helicopter circling above, and a TV news chopper, and a couple of single-engine planes dragging banners, and another helicopter, and I get this lump in my throat and I think to myself: I can’t believe I’m fortunate enough to be able to do this race. Again.
Then New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg addressed the masses over the P.A. system, a woman sang “The Star Spangled Banner,” the cannons fired, and Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” rang out as we started heading up the two-mile-long bridge.
Going into the race, I wasn’t completely sure what was realistic. In 2009, I ran Charlotte’s Thunder Road Marathon just five weeks after NYC, and last year, I did Thunder Road six weeks after the Ridge to Bridge Marathon in western North Carolina. This time, though, I had booked a date with the Big Apple just 15 days after the 2011 Ridge to Bridge race, in which I ran as hard as I could and posted a 3:13.
I did tell many people that I was doing this one for “fun,” that it wasn’t a race but an experience to soak up. So I figured somewhere in the neighborhood of 3:30-3:40 was a nice, safe goal for the notoriously challenging course in New York. But as many of you competitive types probably know, the temptation to “go for it” can sometimes be overwhelming.
The week of the race, I had successfully convinced myself and my coach that my legs were feeling great, and we agreed that I could try to run 7:45s, which would get me in under 3:25 — a great time for a runner like me on a course like this. The day before the race, though, as she and I were walking in midtown on the way to catch the shuttle to the expo, she suddenly said, “So I was thinking that maybe you should run 8s for the first half, and then if your legs feel good at that point, you can start to turn it up a little bit and see what happens.” This sounded like a good idea … until I got to the starting line, and greed started seeping into my psyche.
I ignored the cardinal rule of marathoning: You don’t ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER take the distance for granted. Things can turn in an instant. One moment you feel like you’re in complete control, the next moment your race is spinning out of it. (Just ask Mary Keitany.)
My fastest mile of the race was the second, a 7:38 coming down the mile-long, 225-foot plunge on the far side of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. My fastest mile of the second half was the 18th, a 7:52 along First Avenue in Manhattan, which typically draws the biggest and loudest crowds of the entire race — at times 6 to 8 people deep for more than a mile on the west side of the street.
This is ironic because I had spent weeks, months even, warning friends of mine who also were running that those were the two spots where they most needed to keep themselves in check.
My race was by no means a disaster. My slowest mile was No. 24, a 9:01 coming up the long incline on Fifth Avenue in Manhattan, alongside Central Park, where two-thirds of the runners around me seemed to also be running in slow motion. I soldiered through, without walking, on not-fully-recovered legs, on a course that does everything it can to chew you up and spit you out. (Those bridges were steeper and longer than I remember them, and the climb up Fifth Avenue is agonizing.)
After I ran New York two years ago, I wrote a recap that started slowly and was WAY too long — but I also really feel it captured the experience of running the race about as well as I could have captured it.
That blog entry provided a lot of specifics about the unique qualities of the various areas that the course runs through. This time, I’ll just make a blanket statement: To me, Marathon Day in New York is a day that’s full of so much hope. Runners hope to get a PR. They hope to spot someone they know in the crowd. Friends and family members hope their runners see the sign they’ve made for them. Children hope they can get a runner to give them a high five.
Race officials estimate that 2 million spectators line the course every year. Maybe that’s a wildly inaccurate guess. And, sure, tons the fans have a vested interest in the event (i.e. are out there to support someone running). But I think there are lots of people, especially in Brooklyn and Queens and the Bronx, who just come out because it’s fun to cheer. It’s fun to gawk. It’s fun if you’re, say, Italian, or Japanese, or Ethiopian, to go bananas when you see someone running past flying the country’s colors on his or her clothing.
Seeing people who might not otherwise give a hoot about running take time out of their day to be a part of the event in some small way is so awesome, so inspiring, so awe-inspiring.
Purely from a numbers standpoint, I did OK on Sunday. I ran a 3:35:54 — 1:44:07 for the first half, 1:51:47 for the second half. Not great, not a complete meltdown. These are numbers, though, and as much as I love numbers, this weekend was about the power and the pleasure of bonding experiences.
One of the many unique aspects of this event is that unless you have remarkably fast or charitable friends, you can’t just say to your spouse or your brother or your neighbor or your college roommate, “Hey, let’s go run the New York City Marathon.” Your number comes up, you do the detective work to find out who else’s number has come up, then social plans begin to formulate. After spending a night with a couple who lives in New York but wasn’t running the race, I shared a room Saturday and Sunday with a guy I barely knew before the trip and now would consider a good friend. I had a great dinner with some Charlotte Running Club members on Friday night, a fun lunch with my coach and her sister on Saturday, and a delicious feast with friends from the University City Road Runners group I belong to on Saturday night. Each crew was a motley one, many of us thrown together by chance — but I couldn’t have asked for better companions.
Now, as fantastic as the entire experience was … this time around, the inconveniences stood out a little bit more. New York is, of course, expensive; my hotel room was — after taxes — more than $900 for two nights. Manhattan is a city geared toward walking and standing around waiting in lines, and one of the worst things a marathoner can do the day before a marathon is a lot of walking and standing around waiting in lines.
Race morning is a long ordeal that involves walking, then a subway ride, more walking, then a ferry ride, more walking, then a bus ride, more walking, then a whole lot of standing around. You could get a ride from someone across the bridge, but the Staten Island Expressway must be cleared by 6:45 a.m., so if you go that route, you’re in for three-plus hours of waiting around in the start village.
The course is very crowded. There were 42,000+ runners when I did it in 2009, and 47,000+ this past Sunday. They’re sent off in three waves so it’s really kind of like three races with 15,000-16,000 runners in each, but it’s still a ginormous number of runners. Worse, occasionally fans, locals, or cops will try to cross the street.
After finishing, it’s a long, cold march to the baggage trucks containing your warm clothes and your cellphone. It’s a virtual certainty that you won’t see a friend or loved one for at least 20 to 30 minutes after you cross the finish line, at a time when a hug would feel like the greatest thing in the world.
The whole thing sounds pretty awful, doesn’t it? Well, go ahead and be scared. If you don’t enter the lottery next year, the chances of my number coming up again only get better.
