Month: November 2021

From the smallest to the largest marathon- no two 26.2 mile races are the same

As I approached 40 I caught the marathon bug.  2020 was the year that I was going to run the NYC Marathon.  The biggest, greatest, marathon of all marathons. A classic if you will.   March 8, 2020 I registered to run as part of the Alzheimer’s Association team, in honor of my Dad who was suffering from Alzheimer’s.  Two short weeks later COVID-19 began to impact the United States and the world more profoundly.  Everyday life as we knew it had changed.  Slowly but surely all races were beginning to be canceled- by June the 2020 NYC Marathon was like all others and it too was canceled. As was the case with many runners, I grieved the lack of racing opportunities, but this one hit hard.  For a variety of reasons I was determined to run a marathon in 2020- big birthday around the corner, the 50th running of the marathon and I wasn’t sure my Dad would live to see November 2021 and wanted him to know that I had accomplished this bucket list item in his honor.  I had two choices- pout that I wasn’t going to be running five bridges and boroughs in 2020 or do something about it.  Despite the marathon being canceled I continued my fundraising and I decided to start my training cycle with the goal of running the Virtual NYC Marathon.  I knew that with every training cycle I learned something new, so having a dress rehearsal if you will before the “real deal” seemed like a reasonable backup plan.  Everyone says, be sure to carefully select that first marathon experience.  Look for great crowd support- a course that will help you to go the distance.  My first marathon was anything but- I ran in loops from my house.  My crowd support consisted of some deer, squirrels and the guys taking down trees in my yard, until mile 20 or so when my family/friends came out to give me the final push to go the distance.  While this was far from the NYC experience of running a marathon, I controlled a lot of the factors that you don’t get to control when running a major marathon.  I slept in my own bed the night before. I was able to get up when I wanted and eat my normal breakfast.  I listened to NY, NY by Frank Sinatra with my boys and hit the road.  I didn’t listen to music.  I didn’t have loud crowds cheering me on.  Instead, I listened to an audio book and ran my solo 26.2.  For what will likely be the only time I broke the tape that my then 5 and 7 year old children created as I crossed the home made finish line completing my first marathon.  While I was initially disappointed that NYC didn’t happen, I honestly wouldn’t change a thing about this first marathon experience.  Not many people can say they finished their first marathon in front of their home with their family and friends around them.  

LIke many others when given the choice of my future guaranteed entry I selected 2021 as my first choice.  Truth be told, I didn’t really think there was a chance of the marathon going off in 2021.  So much felt unsettled at the time of making my election.  However, I knew that I wanted the chance to run the 50th NYC marathon.  I would still have the chance to do it during my 40th birthday year.  But, as I suspected, I lost my dad a few months before the marathon and instead of running in his honor, I ran in his memory.  This added to the meaning of the run.  

As the date got closer, I was cautiously optimistic that the marathon would happen.  For a long time, I was afraid to get my hopes up because I didn’t want to be disappointed by another canceled race.  But this was the real deal and it was going to happen!!  In contrast to my solo run, I spent the days leading up to the marathon taking in the sights with my family.  We had the perfect few days of enjoying great meals, seeing the Empire State Building, Statue of Liberty and the Central Park Zoo.  The weather was perfect.  I was so distracted by making sure everyone had what they needed for the morning of the race- proper layers, snacks, and knowing how to get to the grandstand, that I lost track of the fact that I was about to run the biggest race of my life.  I started the day by walking down Fifth Avenue to the bus to Staten Island.  It was truly surreal.  Crisp.  Quiet for NY but not truly silent.  As the city never really sleeps.   Busses were lined up for blocks to take the runners to the base of the Verrazano Bridge.  Fortunately, I made friends waiting in line who helped to pass the several hours we waited before our start time.  While it was cold waiting in the start village (I knew that would make for the best running weather)- the time passed quickly sitting along the Verrazano Bridge, taking in the people, the sights and trying to settle my nerves.  The energy was high and before I knew it I was making my way to the starting corral.  On the top level of the Verrazano Bridge I stood in awe- thinking of all the times I had driven over the bridge, never once thinking that I would run across it.  How would I describe the experience?? Intense. There is such a buzz at the start of the marathon where there are no spectators but all the runners are so excited.  Once we crossed the bridge there were spectoros, music and excitement for miles.  The only other really quiet stretch was the Queensboro Bridge.  But then you have the spectators waiting on First Avenue to cheer you on.  I’m still amazed at how many volunteers and spectators gave of their time that day to make the race possible.  I wore a bib with my name on it and it was as though the spectators knew when I needed a boost and would call out my name.  

I like to think of my two marathon experiences as my first marathon and my first “real” marathon.  Trust me, anyone knows that 26.2 whether you do it alone or with 30,000 people is a marathon.  But there is no describing the energy felt for the 26.2 in NY. In NY I was running as part of a community.  When I ran alone it was a very personal experience.  It was something I had to do for me.  In NY it’s as though the entire city was cheering me to the finish.  The sense of community with the runners, many of whom had been waiting two years like me to run in NYC was profound.  But one thing remained the same- my husband and boys were there at the end.  No, we weren’t in front of our house and they didn’t get to squirt me with water guns like in 2020, but when we called out to each other and locked eyes it was like no one else was there as I crossed the finish line of my first “real” marathon in the greatest city in the world!

2021- TCS New York City Marathon in Review

For two years I had been mentally preparing to run the NYC Marathon. Fundraising for the Alzheimer’s Association in honor/memory of my dad. For the three months prior I was focused on my training plan and staying healthy, all while being just a little bit afraid the race would get canceled. Then Chicago and Boston both successfully happened and I felt comfortable that New York would happen too. We had turned the trip to the marathon into an extended family weekend. We had quality family time leading up to the race- hitting all the highlights. We saw the Empire State Building, Statute of Liberty and even enjoyed the sea lion show in the Central Park Zoo. We caught up with friends and had dinner at some of our favorite places. Quite honestly worrying about all the logistics of the weekend combined with having fun with frineds really kept me from thinking about the fact that I was about to run the biggest race of my life. That at 40 years old I was going to stand on top of the Verrazano Bridge and run the NYC Marathon. Even I still can’t believe this happened.

Did you even run if you don’t flat lay??

I’m a planner. Planning and making arrangements is my thing. I had all the details worked out and that kept my nervous energy busy. But there were so many things I couldn’t control. The weather, the fact that I had to get the bus at 5:15 AM and didn’t start until 10:40. Or that the logistics of how to get into the Grandstand seating for Jeff and the boys didn’t make any sense. I’m telling you all this “extra” worry kept me from thinking about running the largest marathon in the world. That is until I sat myself down along the Verrazano Bridge and took in the grandness of the experience. Listening to music I looked around at all the other folks about to embark on the same crazy experience of running five bridges and five Burroughs through New York. What was I thinking?? Primarily I was thinking how am I going to find Jeff and the boys at the finish so we see each other after they wait so long for me to finish. Not for a minute did it cross my mind that I wouldn’t finish. Crazy in hindsight- but also at about mile 20 when my hamstrings hurt so badly that running was a challenge- but we will get there.

I started out with the 4 hour pace group. Running sub four was my goal. It felt realistic. Felt- because I may have underestimated the hills on the course a tad bit. I felt healthy to start, I was fueling and hydrating appropriately and had a solid first half. Even chatting with the others in the pace group. Then I had to stop to go to the bathroom and lost my pace group. I had to work to regain my mojo a little bit. I enjoyed the camaraderie of running with a pace group for the first time. Plus now I had to do a better job of monitoring my pace since I was on my own. I remain completely blown away at the number of people who came out to support the marathon. I’m talking that some sections of the race were practically single file runners because the streets were full of people. While this amazing energy is profound for me, it was also a little unsettling. I’m not a huge fan of big crowds. Are you laughing- because I was running with 30,000 people? Yeah, I’m laughing too. But anyway, there was a stretch that was so congested with people that it really took me off guard. I felt claustrophobic and actually tried to put my headphones on to get into my own zone for a little bit. Shocker- it was actually too loud with all the people. Trust me- this is a blessing in comparison to the dreaded Queensborough Bridge. While I knew there was this quiet stretch coming I underestimated how long that damn bridge was going to feel when all you could here were feet. While the elevation gain is not the same as the Verrazano Bridge it…was…HARD. For the first time I had this little piece of doubt creep into my brain. Was I going to finish what I came here to do?

Mantras are important to me. So I dug deep literally and remembered that “I run for those who can’t” and damn it “I can do hard things!” My hard was short lived. The hard of those suffering for Alzheimer’s doesn’t get to come and go. When I started this marathon quest it was to raise funds and awareness for the Alzheimer’s Association in honor of my dad. My Dad lost his battle with Alzheimer’s in August so the marathon became even more meaningful. I know he was with me the whole way- but seriously dad I could have used a little help around mile 20 when my hamstrings knotted up so tightly that I again wasn’t quite sure I could in fact finish what I had come to start. When I finally got off that damn Queensborough Bridge I saw my friend from HS who I in fact haven’t seen since HS. She came out to support me that day and seeing her couldn’t have come at a better time!! Seeing the other folks out there in their Alzheimer’s Association singlets was awesome too. While the race is personal and individual, we were still running as part of a team. I’m not going to lie- I knew that there was a cheer zone for the Alzheimer’s Association and I had committed it to memory but somewhere along the Queensborough Bridge anything I had committed to memory left my brain. Until I started hearing tons of shouting from our cheer zone. Thanks to my Alzheimer’s Association friends for the support along the way. I honestly don’t remember what mile that was- but I love that you were there!!

I feel like my face says it all- so very tired but so happy at the same time!!

Pregnant women joke about pregnancy brain- I’m here to tell you marathon brain is a real thing as mine became mush. Another fun example of that would be when all of a sudden in my headphone I heard “hello.” It was my sister. Me: “Did you call me?” Ashley: “No, I texted and then you called.” She had been texting me all morning along with other friends and family who were following along on the tracker. That “crowd” support also meant so much. So here I was in Central Park with less than two mile to go delirious getting water and Gatorade saying to my sister- “Yeah I’m not so sure I can do this.” Now really, I knew that if I had to I would have crawled from that spot and I could finish. But man, my hamstrings hurt so darn badly. Shortly after I ran into that same friend again. I was on the far right side and she was on the left side- and I basically did a crazy car lane change across the traffic to give her a big hug for coming out. Basically I had been thinking about the fact that I should have stopped when I saw her the first time to thank her and here she was giving me another chance. A little more than a mile to go. Out of the park and onto Central Park South and then back into the park again. At this point I was kind of doing a run walk combination. No matter what I did I couldn’t quite loosen up my hamstrings. I was well aware that my four hour marathon dream died somewhere along the Queensborough Bridge (notice I’m not a fan). But I was the only one who cared about that silly time goal. My people- my husband, and two sons waiting at the finish line could careless what time I finished- just that I finished. Up to Columbus Circle we came- and back into the park. It wouldn’t be long now. We had walked the finish the day before so I knew there was one incline, but I also knew they had it marked. 800 to go. 400 to go. 200 to go and there are my boys jumping up and down, ringing their cowbells with huge smiles on their faces. In that moment it was if we were the only ones there as we connected and then I went the final 100 to cross the finish line of my first “real” marathon. Final time 4:18:55.

I’m not going to lie, the walk back to the hotel was the longest walk of my entire life. Thirteen blocks felt like thirteen miles. I slowly but surely put one foot in front of the other and made my way back. All I wanted was a hot bath, champagne and pizza!! All of which were quickly arranged. The perfect end to the perfect marathon- and the perfect weekend. I would be remiss if I didn’t again say thank you to all the friends, family and strangers who donated to the Alzheimer’s Association in honor/memory of my dad. Another huge thank you for the support in the months…years leading up to the big day. I promise a small break in marathon talk for a bit. To my co-workers who supported me, made me signs and surprised me with a celebratory lunch- I appreciate you all so very much. And the biggest thank you to my amazing husband who supports my crazy ideas- encourages me to do my best, while at the same time take pause and realize that my expectations might be a little much- and who entertained our two boys for 5 hours so they could have front row seats to see me finish. I am truly blessed!!

So, what’s next? There’s always a next, right? Shockingly to my boys I took off all of this week and haven’t run since Sunday. It’s not that I don’t feel good. I actually feel great. I’m just recognizing the awesome thing my body accomplished and giving it a little bit of grace. But then I’ll be back it. Slow and steady to finish up 2021. With my sights on a new big goal in 2022. I’ll continue to raise awareness and advocate for the Alzheimer’s Association. Check out what’s next for 2022! Psst….See you in Bean Town in October!!