Pittsburgh Marathon (Day 2 - Race Day!)

After a chilly and very restless night's sleep, I awoke slightly before my alarm and started my pre-race routine. Added to it, this time, was making sure that I activated the Hot Hands hand warmers nearly immediately, so that they would have plenty of time while still exposed to the air before putting them in my gloves. After all, it was 35F outside. BRRR!!!

Looking at the forecast, I was torn as to how I wanted to dress. Should I wear multiple layers that will be on for the full race (even when the temps get to be about 50F by the time I finish), or do I just deal with the pacer t-shirt (thanks, Brooks, for providing them for the team!), sleeves (which can be rolled down), and simply wear the tear-away jacket during the early miles, and mylar sheet on top of that inside the corral for the 45 minutes pre-race? I made sure to have all of that available to me but dressed in the three layers -- pacer shirt (from a different sponsor), MCM mock turtleneck (which is the main heat trapping layer -- they're really good), and the pacer shirt for this specific race. I also made sure to wear the warm fuzzy "throw-away" pants I had gotten years ago that I can't part with, they're so good pre- and post-race. And, of course, my wonderful NYC Marathon poncho was great to wear for my walk to the start and then pack away in my checked bag for post-race.

As part of the pacer team instructions, we had been told to meet at the VIP entrance at 10th St. & Penn Ave. The way it was phrased seemed to imply that that was an entrance to the August Wilson Convention Center, which it isn't, given it's two blocks away. I was confused about that the evening before, which may have added to my restlessness, but glad that I had left the hotel earlier than originally planned. It gave me more time to figure out what was happening upon arrival. As I walked down 10th St. towards the AWCC, I saw that forward movement around the side and towards the designated corner was completely blocked by a high chain-link fence. Despite there being one small opening between two segments, I didn't want to slip through that unless someone with the race ok'd it. Fortunately, as I turned around, there were two men presumably with the race walking my way. When I explained the situation, they advised that the start line was just around the other side, and that the elite runners (which I had mentioned during my explanation) were meeting inside the AWCC just behind the stage -- that I should go in there. 

Well, it was totally dark inside and no one else (pacer nor elite) had yet arrived, so I didn't know if this really was the place the pacers needed to be. A couple of other pacers made their way inside, and I texted our team leader. While the intersection they indicated we should meet was where most of the pacers were gathering, the actual meeting spot was, indeed, where I was located - so all worked out just fine.

Soon enough, there was an overwhelming number of pacers inside (we did have 78 people on the pace team, after all), chatting, some eating, several of us debating with ourselves about what we should be wearing given the frigid pre-race wait, but knowing temps would rise sufficiently and we would naturally generate our own heat, too. One of the other pacers had a nice fleece she was wearing and was none too keen about shedding it as a throwaway, but was prepared to. A little while later, I finally made my decision to keep my three layers, at which point I offered up my tear-away jacket to her so she could gear check her fleece rather than discard it.

After a brief jaunt outside to the start line to get the team photo and have a quick meeting (that finishes with the Serenity Prayer), we went back inside for a little while to stay warm, finish up whatever we each needed to do (including use the portapotty -- we had two dedicated just for us) before then heading out. Pittsburgh has VERY large corrals they use for the full and (front) half marathon, and my co-pacer (Logan Mudlo, not to be confused with my godson also named Logan) and I were to be near the back of Corral C. It felt like it had to have been about a quarter mile walk to get into position. Logan had a huge "feather banner" that he was carrying (which had our finish time on it, for easier visibility than just the small pacer signs we each had) which he would eventually hand off to a race volunteer on the side as we neared the start line. A few people came up to me while we were waiting to get started to ask the standard questions about strategy (even effort, not even pace; slow down a little during fluid stations, etc.) or to validate their choice of finish time based on what they've done in training (some were making the right call, others were being overly ambitious).

Surprisingly quickly, the race started. Pittsburgh has distinct starts for each corral (one every 10 minutes). So, our corral kicked off at 7:20, and it was several minutes after that point when we finally reached the start line. That's us in the highlighter yellow shirts at the bottom of this photo, and lots of the people around us would be with us for most of the half (before they split off), or their particular leg of the relay marathon, or for most/all of the marathon.

The first mile was a little cramped, which is good as that helped to control our pace so that we didn't go out too fast -- a problem most marathoners have, and a common complaint about many pacers (especially those who like to "bank time" -- an ill-advised practice).

The first fluid station was at around Mile 2. At first, given what was initially visible, I was extremely worried for what was to come at the rest of the fluid stations. While the tables on both sides of the road were well marked with the name of the electrolyte (in line with what we were told in advance would be the consistent order: electrolyte then water), both tables were completely emptied. It wasn't immediately obvious that there were many other tables that we were yet to pass. They have it set up so that there is a large amount of space between consecutive tables -- so their fluid stations wind up being quite long in aggregate. While that's great in terms of trying to prevent bottlenecks, it was also a sign that they couldn't keep up with demand. (And with it being as cold a day as it was, demand was much lower than it would have been had it started 20-30 degrees warmer.) They basically only had one volunteer per table -- definitely not enough to keep up with refilling the table with cups of electrolyte or water AND be able to hand out cups to the runners. (For the runners, it's usually much easier to grab a cup from someone's hand while in motion rather than have to stop to pick it up and start moving again.) But at least there were enough fluids throughout -- that's always the biggest concern.

Around there was also my first twinge of worry about whether I chose well with my outfit. I took my first step in moderating my temperature by adjusting my hat so that my ears were poking out. But it was maybe another mile by the time I took off the hat completely and carried it the rest of the way.

I was duly impressed with the energy that our group brought this time around. Any time I checked in ("how's everyone doing?" or "make some noise"), and even one time totally self-initiated by one of the group members (shouting while in an echo-y "mini-tunnel"), lots of them were decently loud, even well past the half-way point. While my co-pacer had never paced a full marathon before (though he has paced many local training sessions), he brought deep knowledge of the course and would often point out what neighborhood we were in, or what direction to expect to turn next (well in advance of being able to see it), or answer a random question about what we were seeing along the way. While the pair of us were trending a little too fast, he was completely responsive each time I took note of that on my watch and prompted that we needed to rein it in a little bit. There were a couple of times that he initiated that slowing down, too -- the few times that I inadvertently picked up too much speed as I was conducting to the upbeat music that was playing while using my pacer stick. I use that for myself to bolster my energy, but need to hold that in control better when pacing.

Somewhere around Mile 5-6 was my next concern about my outfit. Given the mock turtleneck that I was wearing as a middle layer, I was keeping in a lot of heat. There was no getting around it, as I wasn't going to take the time to step to the side (while the group moved on) to take off my top two layers to enable me to wrap the MCM shirt around my waist and put my pacer top (with bib number) back on, to then catch back up. I metaphorically crossed my fingers that I wouldn't actually overheat and start requiring throwing water over my head to regulate temperature.

The worst of the hills is at the bridge after Mile 11. (By this point, the half marathoners would have already split off from us and were ascending the bridge a drop earlier from us and on the other side of a low wall.) It's a decent, though brief climb reaching the crest of  the bridge, before descending on the other side after which we get to the real hill. This segment is steep enough and long enough that the marathon organizes "hill climber" volunteers to help cheer people along from the bottom to the top of the hill (before they turn back around to deal with the next set of people that are arriving by the time they get to the bottom of the hill -- what a workout for them). Thankfully they didn't try to push us to do a faster pace. We were purposely going much slower than our average pace (to keep that even effort going), and the last thing we pacers wanted was for other people to push our runners faster than they should actually be going at that point. We reached the top of the hill none the worse for wear and kept on.

I had a bit of a scare, though, at the Mile 12 marker. As I checked my elapsed time against my pace band, I had gone from approximately 1 minute faster than expected time (pushing the limit of where we should be too early) to more than 3 minutes faster. What? There's no way! Not after the hill we just took at a good, measured pace. Then before I "lapped" my watch, I noticed that my Garmin was indicating that this segment was only 0.8 miles. Well, that shortage would account for more than 2 minutes. Phew! Now to hope that it was simply this one marker that was misplaced, and that it would be made up for on the next mile. (Thankfully, that is exactly what happened.)

By the time we hit somewhere around Mile 16 or so, the wind picked up intermittently. This time I was quite relieved with my choice of outfit, as I was sufficiently warm, but no longer worried about the possibility of overheating. And happy that I didn't douse myself, as I would have been rather frigid with the cool breeze over multiple layers soaked through.

We had a reasonably large group all the way through about Mile 23, when I belatedly asked the question I usually ask at Mile 20 -- "what's your go-to mantra when things get tough?" Mine is rather trite but works well for both myself and encouraging the group: "you got this!" Some people reference religion, others say they think about their family. One person gave "don't be a bitch!" response as what he tells himself. OK, whatever works for you, my man!

This was also the point where I announced to everyone that if they hadn't broken in front of us by Mile 25 - 26, that I would yell at them to get in front of us. Our goal is to make sure everyone in our group finishes before we cross the line.

About three people slowly drifted in front of us shortly thereafter -- not to be seen again. Most dropped the pace to some extent during the next couple of miles, so finished behind pace. One young lady stuck right by my side the entire rest of the way, intermittently voicing her doubts about being able to keep it up. She only moved off when I saw the Mile 26 marker ahead of us and I told her that she had to get in front of us now and stay there. As she did so, Logan and I were amused to see her pump the air victoriously with both fists as she was approaching that marker before the final turn. (What we found out after the finish when we saw her again was that her brother was at that spot cheering her on - giving her one final boost of energy to the finish.) In the end, she finished a little under 4 hours 29 minutes.

Our last group member now in front of us, we needed to resist the natural temptation to charge through the finish line at top speed (contrary to the advice we give all runners -- finish as fast as your legs can take you). We came in almost exactly where I was planning, finishing in 4:29:16.

The race did a very good job in the finishing chute area in term of spacing out things enough re: getting your medal, heat sheet, and post-race food and drink; there was never a bottleneck. And when we finally reached the exit where there was the inevitable crowd of family and friends trying to find their runner emerging, the crowd control personnel did a really good job of maintaining a few open "channels" where the runners could actually exit unhindered. (Would that races like MCM or Flying Pig did that sort of thing.)

I made my way to the pacer tent where I grabbed my gear check bag and, after eating a couple of the items I had just collected, started to change. I got my sneakers and socks off pretty quickly, donned my warm, fuzzy "What the Elf?" pants, and put on my flip-flops. While I had considered taking off my first two shirts (which were wet) and just keep my top pacer shirt on, I decided against that, and simply donned my poncho. Mmm... warm.

In the process of doing all of that, when I thought I would take off my shirts, I took of my medal, wrapped the lanyard around it and set it down on the table right next to me. (You already know where this is going.) Somewhere along the line during my changing, chatting with other pacers who had finished, and going between the table and the garbage pail to chuck my garbage, the medal "walked away." I checked repeatedly my gear check bag to see if I had actually placed it inside (no), and checked underneath the few items on the table (not there either). What the hell?!

When I explained the situation to the ladies at the Information booth a little ways away and asked if there's any way I can get another today, they advised that I contact the race via the app and that they would ship me a medal -- it's actually a fairly common request. (Seems ridiculous to have them incur the cost of shipping if that can be avoided.) In talking with some other runners, they suggested that I just go back into the finisher area and get another. Having already taken off my bib from my shirt, I made sure to have that in my hand (along with all of my other stuff, since I didn't know how much longer the pacers would be at the ten) and made my way back to the exit of the finisher's chute. I fibbed to the couple of the crowd control personnel, telling them that I had inadvertently not gotten my medal before exiting, showing them my bib -- they graciously allowed me to enter, despite the huge DO NOT ENTER banner. When I finally reached the area where the medal racks were, I approached one of the people handing out medals and repeated the fib to her. While she remarked that she didn't know how anyone could have gotten past them without getting their medal, she wasn't challenging me, and graciously handed me a medal.

Finally back at the pacer tent, one of the people I pace for with a different company who was running the marathon (not as a pacer) sat down with us and was chatting. He had taken one of the empty boxes in the finisher chute and wound up putting all of the post-race food and drink in that -- much easier to carry that way. He set it down on the table and had his back to it. I was positioned in such a way so that I could see it to my side. All of a sudden, while we were all talking, some random non-runner (and likely not even a spectator/supporter) walked through the tent area and snagged a small pint-sized box of chocolate milk that was in the box o' stuff. Thankfully, I saw it, and I called him out before he was even a few steps away, pointing out whose milk that was that he just took, that it was NOT free for his taking. Duly chastised, he set it on the table and walked off. No apology. Made me wonder if something similar happened to my original medal; I'll never know.

Eventually, several of the others headed out to a pub on the north shore -- which, logistically, was a nuisance for me, so I begged off of joining, and headed to another place which was directly en route to where my car was parked at the hotel.

I chose pretty well. The place was definitely popular, but not so busy that it took over-long to get served. Friendly service, good music (mostly 80s, at least during my meal) and a tasty burger. I can't ask for much more for my post-race lunch.

By the time I finished my lunch and headed out, it was pretty late. As it was definitely after 2:30pm, I was expecting that the race was nearly wrapped up (as I thought there was a 7-hour time limit, and the last corral kicked off at 7:30am, so 2:45 seemed a likely time for the official end). As I walked back, I crossed the road that is the stretch leading to the Mile 26 marker and the final turn. As I got to the far side of that, I paused to see if there were any runners still out (since the barriers hadn't been removed yet). Lo and behold, there was one who had just turn the corner a few blocks away from me. There were multiple times that she stopped. As she got closer, it was clear that she was physically struggling somehow. Rather than merely clap and cheer her on, I approached while she was pausing and working out her back (which has been spasming since Mile 18) and asked her if she wanted company during the last quarter mile to the finish. She accepted. She talked about her back giving her a problem, asked me how I did (at which point I mentioned leading a pace group), and was a bit self-deprecating about how slow she was. I complimented her on the fact that she was getting it done -- not only is she not simply sitting on the couch like so many out there, but being on her feet moving for well over 7 hours is a very difficult task, even if the pace itself is slow. She asked if she was the last one -- I didn't know, but knew it was close to the end of the race, given the timing. She thanked me for pacing her the last bit - my second team of the day, as she would put it. Shortly after we passed the half marathon's Mile 13 marker (meaning there was less than 0.1 miles left to the finish line), I said my goodbyes -- so that she could have her finish line photo unmarred by having me in them, and wished her good luck. The finish line announcer was still doing his thing (though I didn't hear him say her name), and I even saw at least two more people approaching the Mile 26 marker as I was returning to my previous route towards my car. While she finished the race, and I'm confident she was handed a medal, it appears that she is not in the final results as a finisher. While I didn't see her bib number nor did I hear her name, she was certainly older than me, by all appearances, and there was no such result at the tail end of the results.

I didn't know precisely what to expect from the Pittsburgh Marathon, but was duly impressed for the most part. Certainly willing to return again.

Pittsburgh Marathon (Day 1 - Expo)

I've had this marathon on my radar for a few years now but dread doing it because of the hills. The profile looked daunting, and having been to the city several times and witnessed its hills first-hand (though not necessarily ones on the actual course), it definitely intimidated me. But I finally decided to take the plunge and pace it at a reasonable enough pace that managing the hills wouldn't likely be a problem (especially if I were to do enough incline work on the treadmill). A bonus for the weekend is the fact that my oldest godson is currently a student at Pitt, so I would be able to visit with him for a little bit, too.

After the slog of a drive, and dealing with the horrendous signage, confusing intersections, and construction EVERYWHERE, I managed to park at my hotel before walking the mile to the expo.

By the time I arrived -- about 12:30pm on Saturday -- the place was PACKED! Here's what the crowd was trying to get inside.

I was duly impressed by the size and scope of the expo. Even though I'm generally jaded on expos and tend to not get anything at them (save for some freebies that might be available), this one was pretty good. The only thing that would really improve it would be if they had some semblance of programs (speaker going over the marathon course, advice to first-timers, panelists of elites/former winners, etc.). But for those who are looking for various merch, this one was better than Boston since returning from COVID.

Unexpectedly, we were even featured on one of the directional signs (though the pace company's name itself -- OnPace Race -- wasn't specified). Nonetheless, it's nice to have acknowledgment by the race organization.

Upon entering, my plan was to get my race bib and shirt, meander the expo to see what was there, and then go to the pacer booth to help out. That plan was put on its head when I went to the correct area to pick up my bib and they told me they didn't see my number or name (despite my having a confirmation e-mail). Hmm... What's up with that? They point me to the Runners Services desk (a standard help desk type area where problems can get resolved). Alas, they had the same issue -- they couldn't find anything, and mentioned that there was a separate area that I had bypassed where any bibs that had been customized with a runner's name were pulled aside. (Strange method, but ok.) Rather than bother going there, though, I took a chance that the packets had been picked up by the pace team leads and were being held at the booth.

Sure enough, OnPace had picked up all of our race packets to add to the pace-team specific packets they had compiled for us (that contained custom pacer shirts and hats, thanks to Brooks, and our pace band and magnets and, for the first-timers, their pacer boards). Between the several pacers who officially signed up for a shift and me (and possibly others?) who didn't manage to sign up for a shift but did one anyway, the three signs that provided the lineup of pacers (for the marathon, the half marathon, and the back half marathon), and the two post boards broadly outlining the timing of the starts, the booth was VERY crowded. And that was before we had multiple runners at any given moment chatting with us, asking the standard questions, getting sage advice from the pacers.

Once I was there, I decided to stay at the booth and only deal with exploring the expo a little bit once I finished up a couple of hours chatting with runners.

By the time 3pm rolled around, I was a little tired from being on my feet the whole time, so decided to take a quick turn through the expo before finding a seat, prior to figuring out how to get up to the room where we were set to have our pacer meeting at 4pm.

Above is the set-up they had for what I think was supposed to be some sort of hall of fame induction, based on what I was overhearing from a couple of people in the row in front of me. I didn't get to stay for it, since it was starting at the same time as our pacer meeting. Having previously (and obliviously) walked past the elevators a couple of times earlier, I went back to the pacer booth in time for them to be wrapping up -- and I just joined the herd heading on up; I knew they'd know where to be going.

The team meeting was a good chance to briefly meet the team (where were a total of 78 of us pacing across the three events), find out some scuttlebutt about a few choice areas on the course, and get some last-minute directions on where to be meeting in the morning.

Afterwards, slightly later than planned, I headed out to meet up with my godson, to take him to dinner and drop off a few select things that I brought out from his parents in my car. It was a good time getting another update on his studies, efforts towards getting a film internship over the summer, and some other issues. Throughout the dinner, we each kept on noticing yet some other quirky bit of decoration.

These two were behind me, and just a couple of things that were drawing Logan's attention.

These were on the opposite side of the room behind Logan, drawing my attention:

At one point during dinner, he noticed a couple with their young daughter positioning a large Kermit at the fourth chair at their table. We hadn't seen them come in, so we just figured that the young girl brought along her own Kermit to join in the meal. Then, what seemed like not too long afterwards, I noticed they were gone and so too, I thought was Kermit. But, no... as I was going around after dinner and before we left, I saw him just hanging out on this chair on the side. Apparently, it's another piece of the eclectic decor.

Interestingly enough, there were a few medieval pieces on display, also.

Notice the small suit of armor next to the full-sized one? Well, with this being on the other side of the room from our table, we hadn't noticed it for quite a while. (I think the person sitting in the chair just next to it was in my line of sight. Someone else might have been in Logan's.)

And, naturally, there was this denoting the men's room. (The women's room had a similar figure depicting Wonder Woman.)

What kind of restaurant would you expect all of this to be in? It happened to be a family-owned Italian restaurant (Zarra's). Very good food. When getting the check, I asked our waitress about the varied decor. While she gave an interesting history of the place (it had been a small concert venue -- The Electric Banana -- that had hosted some pretty big acts back in the day), she never really answered the question, unfortunately. Definitely worthwhile checking out if you're in the area.

After dropping off Logan at his apartment and handed over the things I brought from Virginia, I headed back to my hotel. Despite trying briefly to find some street parking to avoid paying the exorbitant garage price, I was having no good luck, given the planned road closures and temporary tow-away zones, so I bit the bullet and parked in the hotel garage. It was late by the time I checked in, got up to my room, and laid out everything for the morning. 

I only had a little time to wind down watching a little bit of TV before hitting the hay.

Record-breaking Six Days

Talk about a monumental week in marathons.

This past Monday, at the Boston Marathon, was an enormous course record-breaking performance by John Korir, finishing the course in a blazing fast 2:01:52. How the heck he could possibly have pulled off such a feat, smashing the prior record by more than 1 minute, is anyone's guess -- damn! And if he's capable of doing that time on THAT course (and doing it in a negative split, no less), he's sure to be able to break 2 hours on a flat course. And everyone was wondering if/when he would finally be the first one to do it.

Well, what's all the more amazing is that he won't be the first or even the second one to do it.

Just six days later, at the London Marathon, TWO men finished in earth-shattering time. First up was Sebastian Sawe, who finished in 1:59:30. Not only crushing the previous official world record set by Kelvin Kiptum only months before his untimely death a couple of years ago, but ALSO beating Eliud Kipchoge's special INEOS 1:59 event time -- where he had a specially designed event optimizing absolutely everything that can be controlled -- perfect flat course, perpetually fresh contingent of pacers forming a wind break in front of him, laser-guided course knowing the exact area that he must run inside of (no chance of going unduly wide of the tangent line), etc. No, Sebastian Sawe did it in London during normal racing conditions! (And he was fortunate for the temps to be nearly ideal, ranging about 52 - 55F during his time on the course.)

Only 11 seconds later, in 1:59:41, came Yomif Kejelcha. While he will be remembered in the print results of world record times for a while, this miraculous DEBUT marathon likely will be overlooked in conversations because, despite the fact that he broke the "impossible" two hour barrier, he did so in SECOND place. Absolutely amazing.

Heck, even the runner in third place broke the previous 2:00:35 record. Jacob Kipling, while not cracking 2 hours, came in a tantalizingly close 2:00:28. Dang! Top three all beating the previous world record.

What is the physical limit? I don't think anyone will be able to answer that question, now.

And, yes, Tigst Asefa broke the women's-only marathon world record in an amazing time of 2:15:41.

The records just keep on tumbling down. Truly amazing.

Jersey City Marathon

After being squeaked out of being able to register for Boston, and not managing to secure a charity bib for Boston, I belatedly answered the call to be a pacer for the Jersey City Marathon and was able to get on the team, as a spot at my pace was still open. In the last week before both marathons were held, I inferred from a message from one of my friends that they just might be able to swing a "miracle bib" for Boston, and I tried to gameplay how I would manage to do both races while not getting my hopes up too high. (There would be LOTS of driving involved.) To my mom's great relief (no offense taken here -- she worries), Boston didn't happen - so I was only running Jersey City.

I left very early on Saturday morning so that I could not only help out manning the MarathonPacing.com table for a bit of time, but also do some of my afternoon/evening plans (which I'll get to). Given the early departure, it only took me 4 hours to drive up and park at the expo. Amazingly little traffic.

As I understand it, in the previous few years, they were in a small area of a nearby mall, where the vendors wound up getting nearly no foot traffic. So, this year was the first year that they had an expo in a dedicated ballroom (actually, two) in a hotel. The main room was rather a bit cramped, and unfortunately our table was directly next to the OrangeTheory (?) table, where they had a C2 Concept rowing machine set up to challenge people to row 100m as fast as they could. The prize for fastest male and female was something like a free personal training session, I think. All well and good, but in addition to the loud cheering on of each competitor, they were ring a cow bell as loudly as possible. Despite the fact that I am frequently yelling "More cow bell!" (thank you, Christopher Walken) on course when I hear someone ringing/banging one, this is one time I wanted no part of it. It made it VERY difficult for us to have conversations with the runners who had any questions about pacing and joining up with us on race day, etc. Oh well, there's really no way to have known that in advance -- hopefully the arrangement next year will be more conducive to conversation.

After spending about 90 minutes or so chatting with full and half marathoners, giving them advice, allaying some fears, etc., I went and grabbed the lunch that they were providing to vendors (in which I had been advised we were permitted to partake) before changing to go into Manhattan. Nice -- I was figuring I'd be grabbing a last second meal in the City before the show I was seeing.

I changed in the men's bathroom, dropped my change of clothes and race stuff inside my car, and set out for the PATH train into Manhattan. In all of the years I lived in New York, including the several years I lived in Queens, I had never set foot on the PATH train; I didn't really know what to expect. Wasn't all that different from the subway, except that their speaker system actually had intelligible announcements. The biggest problem I had with them for the two stations I wound up using within NJ over the weekend is the fact that their signage was only sufficient to point you broadly to the station, but there was none that actually pointed you to the specific entryway on the side out of sight, so it's easily overlooked if you haven't been to the station before. (I passed it initially by a block before asking someone and being pointed to where it was.)

Once in Manhattan, I had to book it pretty fast to make my way uptown the 12 blocks to the show. But I couldn't help but stop and take a photo of an amusing sign on my way:

I wound up arriving at the Golden Theatre and got to my seat about 2 minutes before curtain. I felt like Robert Wang catching a flight. (IYKYK)

Operation Mincemeat is a very amusing show. There's good reason why it's run has been extended as much as it has been. In short, it's based on a real-life World War II operation where the Allies needed to convince the Germans that they would be invading Sardinia, so that the Germans would shift their forces off of Sicily -- where the Allies were actually intending to invade. That they were able to turn this into a fun musical comedy is truly something. Certainly recommend seeing it, if you're able.

Afterwards, I met up with my mom who made the trip into the city for dinner. It was a cute (if a bit loud) Italian restaurant I found between Penn Station and the PATH train entrance I would eventually need to get to. Very good food, and nice time catching up and chatting.

After seeing her off and getting back to Jersey City, on my brief walk back to the car, I decided to take a minor detour onto a pier to see if there was an angle to view the Statue of Liberty from there -- rather than either walking or driving down the 2 miles to Liberty Square Park. Nope -- I had no good angle given some of the buildings on the Jersey City side that were in the way. And the low cloud ceiling obscuring part of lower Manhattan was a good portent for the morning. The spire and top several floors of the Freedom Tower  (at One World Trade Center) were totally obscured.

We had been advised in our internal pacer e-mails that we should expect it to take about 45 minutes to park in the nearby parking garages. I decided I would do differently. Rather than park by the start/finish line, I chose to park in Hoboken, a few blocks from the PATH train, and take PATH one stop down -- which let out exactly at the starting line area. Much easier, and no hassle. (And I even met a couple of ladies who would wind up joining my pace group for their half marathon, at least for a little while.)

It is relatively infrequent in my pacing experience so far that we get our own tent in a cordoned off area (along with the VIPs and elites) where there are reserved portapotties. So, not only can we stay out of the elements for as long as possible, we also have a much more manageable amount of time to be in line to make one last pit stop. While I was waiting for my turn, I saw a group of people clearly running as 101 Dalmatians -- some already spotted, others putting on black spots onto their white shirts. (There were only about a dozen people right there.) I asked one of them if they actually had 101 or 102 people running as Dalmatians, and they noted they didn't have that many. And then he offered me a sheet of spots that I could put on to join in. Sure, why not! While putting them on my shirt wouldn't work well (it was blue, so would be odd), I was wearing white arm sleeves, so they'd pop quite nicely on those.

I got back from my pit stop as the pace team was taking a photo. Thankfully, I was able to jump in -- they took a couple of more photos.

Shortly afterwards, it was off to the corral to line up, "round up" our respective groups, and go! It was a little chilly (in the mid-40s), but not too bad. The wind was light at this point, and there was only a brief sprinkling in the couple of minutes immediately before the start.

I was in corral 7 (of 8), and we wound up crossing the start line about 7 minutes after the starting gun went off. The first half mile or so was very cramped given the narrow street, but that was fine as it made sure that I didn't go out too fast compared to my planned pace.

While my Garmin indicated that most of the miles were longer than a mile (as is expected), I was able to adjust appropriately to make sure I was within the narrow goal time window at every marker.

Unlike several of the last races I've paced, this time around I had a pretty energetic group with me, willing to answer loudly when asking them how they were doing. I got a few sporadic answers to some of the more specific questions I asked, and had some brief conversations based on topics that were raised or random questions asked of me.

After Mile 12, the half and full marathons split away from each other, and my group became a fair bit smaller. But soon after we passed halfway (a little after 9:15am), the wind kicked up something fierce. Round about Mile 16, it was so strong, many of us felt like we were being linked by all of the pink flower petals that were being torn off of the trees and pelted into our faces from the side as we ran by. I was lucky -- I was able to use my pacing sign as a shield for my face. It was BRUTAL. And that wind didn't let up for much of the rest of the race. Several times, when it was a headwind, I would alert/remind everyone to run single file and use the person in front of them as a windbreak. Most of the time they would dutifully fall in behind me until we got a break with the wind.

While I had a number of first-timers who were amused by most of the signs, there are few times when a sign is unique for me. (After all, this was marathon #96.) But there were two that stood out:

"Free beer and sex at the finish line"

"Daddy, run as hard as Mommy runs her mouth" (held up by the mommy, with her little child next to her)

Similar to Miami, there were a few spots on the course where the runners were being overcrowded/encroached upon by the spectators cheering us on. Unlike Miami, this time my using the pacer sign to "swat" the air signaling people to move out of our way was actually understood. In one area, a guy who had a microphone actually augmented my signal and asked everyone to move back to make more room for us. Phew!

Around Mile 20, I typically make a comment about how the first half of the race is done, that the second half is just beginning. (From an energy stores point of view, that is.) I also ask what their go-to mantras are when things get tough (since this is usually the point in the race when things are really hitting hard for most runners). There were several really deep answers, as opposed to my trite "You got this!" One of them even said he reaches for William Ernest Henley's "Invictus":

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul. 

...

I am the master of my fate,

I am the captain of my soul

And also quoted Dylan Thomas:

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Not things that would have come to mind as particularly uplifting, but apparently it's what gets him through. And certainly well enough, because he was one of the people who finished in front of me.

 

Given a conversation in the pacer tent ahead of the race where one of the other pacers shared his strategy of how he pushes his group ahead of him near the end, I decided to follow suit. At about Mile 23, I announced to the few who remained that I expected them to be in front of me by the time we hit Mile 25 or so. Around the time we hit Mile 25, without my saying anything further, three of my runners slowly drifted ahead of me. And whereas there were many times on the earlier part of the course where I would say something about "pull it back, don't need to be quite so fast" to not only indicate that I was going to be slowing a drop, but that they needed to do likewise to stay with me, I said nothing. And once they were far enough up, I said loudly enough for anyone else around me that they need to get in front of me by Mile 26.

As I crossed the line, I knew I was at least close to "the pin," but was unclear how far away from it I was. For those who don't know from some of my other posts, this particular pacing team makes a game out of our respective finish times. While we each have whatever time is on our sign for our respective goal, under which we are looking to get our group, our "true" goal is 30 seconds under the sign's time -- this is "the pin" -- and we have 30 seconds leeway on either side of the pin. (Just a different way of looking at the same time window most/all pace groups have, make sure to be no faster than 1 minute from you posted goal time, and not even 1 second slower than it.) It wasn't until I was sitting at lunch that I saw that I actually hit the pin exactly -- 4:29:30. While I've been closest once before, I had never hit it exactly. Sweet!

Shortly after the finish line and medals, they did a great job of providing the post-race food and drink by having everything prepackaged in the same large clear bags as what they used at bib pickup. This made it so much easier to get through and not have to worry about juggling an excessive number of things in our hands. Especially since by this time the wind was truly insane, and the fenced-off gauntlet we needed to walk through before we could exit the area felt even longer than the post-race area in Central Park after the New York City Marathon (even though it's definitely not that long). While they had handed out mylar sheets, they were so small that, had I wanted to put it around my waist, it wouldn't have reached all the way around -- so anyone trying to wrap it around their upper torso for warmth, they were totally S.O.L. While I was cooling down pretty quickly, I was just warm enough to not even try to deal with it. On my way out, I caught up with a couple of the people from my group who had finished in front of me -- they were very appreciative of the assistance.

Finally escaped from the fencing, I was pointed in the direction of where I wanted to go (as I had been totally turned around, no clue where I was). Being able to get back to the tent (sure, unheated, but totally out of the wind) was a godsend. I was able to change into my warm change of clothing, have a little bit of the post-race food, and wish good luck to a couple of the other pacers who were soon to be driving up to Boston to run in the marathon the next day. The double that I had been hoping to do. Good on 'em for having a good enough time to get in.

On my way to the original place I chose to go to lunch, I decided to look up the precise address (though I knew generally where I was going). It worked out well, because in doing so, I saw they were temporarily closed. So, on to the other burger joint I had been looking at which was only a block or two away from that.

Yes, it paled in comparison to what would have been my post-race lunch (dinner, really?) in Boston at Mr. Bartley's, but it was still quite good.

While I was dining, it started to rain. Thankfully, I had my duck umbrella with me, not to mention my New York City Marathon poncho. (Damn, that alone is worth the price of admission to that marathon.)  The walk back to the PATH train was still a cold, wet, windy schlep. Both on my way to the PATH, and then again on my way to the parking garage where my car was, there were multiple times the wind was so strong, I was basically standing still bracing myself against the wind with the small umbrella as shield.

Finally back to the car, I headed up to my cousins' apartment. Showered and changed, I then hung out with the family of four (plus the older son's fiancee) for several hours before finally hitting the road back home. While they offered to put me up so that I could drive home rested, I wanted no part of the rush hour traffic that I would surely encounter either in New Jersey or the DC area, depending on departure time. The last hour was definitely difficult, fighting my fatigue. But I managed to get safely home a little after midnight. By the time I finally collapsed in bed, it was 21 hours after I had first awakened. Damn, it was a good call to make sure I took off Monday from work. Doubly so because I was able to watch most of the Boston Marathon on TV in the gym -- and was able to witness both champions (John Korir and Sharon Lokedi) complete back-to-back wins, and Korir even destroyed the course record -- setting it at 2:01:52 -- astonishing enough, but for the course profile that Boston is? He just might be able to chop off enough time from that on a flat course to break two hours! (While he claimed in the post-race interview to not be thinking about that, I think he was just being modest. How could he possibly not be thinking about that possibility?)