Part 1
I received a comment that the blog offered a vicarious view for someone that might never run the marathon. So I thought I would offer up a mile by mile or at least my borough-by-borough experience of the New York City marathon.
Marathon morning is the first Sunday in November. It begins early, 6 a.m. with a cup of coffee and half a toasted bagel with cream cheese. So as to optimize sleep time, clothes, coffee, Metrocard and all will be prepped and laid out the night before. Invariably though the night will be somewhat fitful and anxious. The route to the marathon staging grounds in Fort Wadsworth at the foot of the Verrazano Narrows Bridge has varied each time. This year I’m assigned to travel via the Staten Island Ferry to that island borough where we’ll be met by a bus that will take us to the bridge. I’m already looking forward to the early morning cruise through New York harbor. The first time I ran we arrived at the fort so early that I lay down in the grass and took a nap. The next time round was better planned. I arrived in time to stretch, mill around a bit, visit the port-a-john and find my starting place. In my second run the marathon had pacers who run the route with flags displaying finishing times. Hoping to finish in less than 4 hours I corralled up with the 3 hour and 55 minute flag and started out running in that pack. This year I’m going for the 3 hour and 50 minute pacer.
I don’t recall any start announcements as much as everyone anxiously milling and checking their watches. As if motivated by some innate genetic coding, like lemmings to the sea the runners are slowly drawn to their starting corrals. The early November morning can be chilly. Most runners are wearing extra layers of clothing that will be pealed off and discarded. In short order the grounds will resemble the after affects of a tornado having exploded through a large clothing store. (All of these discards will be collected for charity.)
I believe that a cannon is fired to mark the start of the race but if so us mere mortals are too far back to hear it. I’m not certain when the cannon is actually fired given the staggered, multiple starts, wheel chairs and those running with aides, elite women, elite men and then the remaining throng of thousands. Here too there are now staggered star times. After my last run I vowed never to do New York again. There were so many runners that for the entire race I was constantly jumping into clear spaces to be able to run. After that year they instituted staggered start times for the masses. Something had to be done if they were to continue to increase the field. Within minutes of whenever the official start is the crowd begins shuffling in a forward motion. Somewhere in these first few hundred yards we’ll cross the start line. All of the runners are wearing a chip on their shoes through which official start, mid and end times are recorded. In short order you’ve broken into a run, the adrenaline kicks in and a collective metaphorical cheer surges through the crowd like a wave. No one (with any sense) sprints forward. With 26.2 miles to go there’s plenty of time to attempt to sprint.
to be continued...
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