The last of the announcements were made. Then, the announcement we had waited what seemed like forever to finally hear: "Runners, on your mark..." after which the cannon blasted, and we were off!
Given the many thousands of people all crammed together as close to the start line as possible, it's a slow start -- as expected. It took me approximately 3 minutes to cross the start line (better than I had expected), but it was still a relatively slow start and I couldn't get a full stride. Given the first mile is uphill (the steepest of the course), I was fine with going slow -- I knew that the downhill coming off of the Verrazano was going to make up for it.
While I never carry a camera with me except during Disney marathons, I half wished that I was wearing a GoPro. The morning was beautiful, crisp, and clear, and just like my trip to the top of 1WTC, you could see (seemingly) forever. I quickly picked out the WTC and the rest of the skyline on the left, and it took me a few more seconds to finally find the Statue of Liberty, too. Gorgeous sights. And above and around us were about a half dozen or more helicopter buzzing about. They seemed like dragonflies hovering around us. No way of telling how many were police, how many were media, and what other possibilities there were, too.
The downhill in Mile 2 definitely made up for the initial uphill. Mile 1 was about 8:30. Mile 2 was about 6:55. Oy! Slow down! That split is what would be needed for a sub-3 marathon, and the goal is 3:30. Don't blow up!
Mile 3 starts off still on the exit from the bridge, so it's still a fast stretch. I managed to pull back to a 7:30 pace, but was worried that I wasn't going to be able to pull back further -- I wanted to be closer to 8:00/mile. Mercifully, my prayers were answered when the 3:25 pacer (running a 7:24/mile pace) started to pass me with his large pace group. "Yes! I'll gladly stay with this pacer." Must be fate, given the fact that the expo ran out of 3:30 pace bands before I arrived, so I was only able to take a 3:25 pace band. When I finally had the opportunity to make a comparison between where we were and the goal, I was about 40 seconds ahead of the 3:25 pace -- and stayed there.
None of the bridges have spectators on them cheering you on. On the Verrazano, that's not relevant given the excitement flowing through everyone, all the pent-up adrenaline finally let loose, and the gorgeous views to enjoy. Spectators become important once we finally land in Brooklyn. The early miles were not as packed as one would expect, but those who were lining the sidewalks were definitely enthusiastic. "You got this!" said in the stereotypical Brooklyn "fuhgedaboutit" accent was prevalent. Most of the signs are the typical ones you see on most marathons. Though there was one "Let's Go Brandon" sign, surprisingly enough. By the time we got to about Mile 5, the crowds were as large and loud as expected.
Around Mile 11 (?) we got to the Hassidic neighborhood in Williamsburg. Aside from the bridges (where it's truly impractical or downright impossible for spectators to be present), this is always the worst part of the course from a support perspective -- it is a huge energy suck. Why? Because there's just about no one from the neighbor out supporting the runners. The few Hasids that were walking about were clearly doing their normal Sunday routine, paying no attention to the throng of crazies running through their streets. Shockingly enough, there was a small group on the right side of the road who sounded like they were singing a Hebrew prayer. Alas, I couldn't make out the words well enough, and didn't recognize the tune, either. It was a quick enough section to pass through and get back to a more supportive part of Brooklyn.
About Mile 13 we passed over the Kosciusko Bridge into Queens and, relatively quickly, made our way to the most (or 2nd most) dreaded hill on the course: the 59th Street Bridge to take us into Manhattan. We run on the lower level of the bridge, so there's no easy way to see the top of the hill well in advance like there is on the Verrazano. It's steep, silent, and feels like it just goes on FOREVER. If you don't believe me, the next time you're in the area, run across the bridge on the pedestrian walkway and see how you feel. Then remember that it's at Mile 15-16 on the marathon, when you've already expended a large amount of energy (both physical and mental).
Once you crest and start the descent to exit into Manhattan, there's a large amount of relief. For the past 17-18 years when I've recounted my experience running New York City (my 1st and 2nd marathon, in 2003 and 2004), I would get overwhelmed, emotional, and teary-eyed remembering how immensely loud the crowd was at that exit into Manhattan. I would always describe it as so overwhelming that I felt like I was floating for about 2-3 blocks before I realized that my feet were actually striking the ground. Absolutely fabulous feeling.
That was then. And that was even what I saw in a video of that section posted by a friend who had started in a later wave/corral than I was in. However, by the time I got there, it was surprisingly (and depressingly) underwhelming. There was no one standing behind the bales of hay that line the sharp curve. And the crowd along the block leading to 3rd Avenue was sparse. And they were mostly unresponsive to my gestures for them to get louder. (Whereas the ladies of Wellesley during the Boston Marathon totally responded to the same gesture and redoubled their screaming.)
Running uptown towards the Bronx didn't disappoint. Here, the street for the several miles we were running uptown were lined several deep and the crowd was very vocal. Similarly, once we got into the Bronx for the small stretch we were there -- great energy.
Back into Manhattan and we finally wound our way to the top of Central Park running downtown on 5th Avenue. This is the other spot that would be considered the most (or 2nd most) readed hill on the course. It always comes as a surprise to people who have never run the NYC Marathon that 5th Avenue is a hill. But, oh boy, is this one PAINFUL. It's not steep, by any means, but it goes on for about 3 miles, sucking up the last bits of energy one has stored up for the last several miles of the race.
And it was during this stretch that I started to worry about whether I would actually hit my 3:25 mark. Ever so slowly, the pacer pulled away, meaning that ever so slowly, I was slowing down compared to the desired pace. I tried to push it, but I just wasn't able to go faster on this hill. I knew that once I got into Central Park, there would be rolling hills, so I resolved to make sure to regain the needed cushion on the downhills.
We turned right into Central Park somewhere around W86th St., and at this point, the crowds were very deep and encroaching on the roadway more than they did at any other point on the course. It was nearly as bad as what the Tour de France always looks like. Much the energy exuded by the crowd are precisely what was needed to help kick up the pace a notch.
I finally got to the stretch of the course that I walked on Saturday night before meeting friends for dinner. I knew exactly what to expect with the hills and the sharp turns. Being mentally prepared for that last bit enabled me all the more to grind it out. 26-mile marker passed. "Yes, I'm going to make 3:25!" 200-meter-left marker passed, and I can see the homestretch and finish line. The crowd was going crazy, and I finally crossed the finish full-speed.
The finish line is the most dangerous part of most marathon courses for me because far too many people stop quickly after passing the line. However, I need more space to slow down, and invariably wind up yelling at at least 1 or 2 people to get out of the way so that I don't bowl them down. This race was no different.
The 3:25 pacer was still in the early part of the finish "chute" area, so I circled him a couple of times while tapping him on the shoulder and thanked him profusely for catching me at Mile 3, having me slow down to that pace. Had he not done so, I likely would have run too fast for too long, using up too much of my energy too early, and ending with a slower cumulative time.
Final time: 3:24:45 (nearly a full hour faster than my previous time in 2004)
No comments:
Post a Comment