Race Report: NYC Marathon, Part III

Crowds are not allowed on the course between miles 15-16 of the New York City Marathon, therefore it is a quiet, convenient place perfect for contemplation and assessment as you focus on the final 10 miles remaining in the race. All you hear is the pounding of hundreds of runners feet around you, as they trudge up what is considered to be the steepest portion of the marathon course. Oh, that and the sound of your racing heart as it attempts to keep up with the incline of the onramp and your pace setting as you climb up, and up, and up...welcome to the Queensboro Bridge.

Honestly, I had been secretly dreading the Queensboro Bridge. All I had been hearing was how hard it was. Not only would you be crossing over the 15 mile mark at the start of the bridge, but you would also be crossing the 16 mile mark while on the bridge...while still climbing. That's crazy, if you ask me. It is about 2 miles long, with a nominal uphill incline. Oh, and did I mention there were no fans there to scream out encouragement? It was seemingly endless, but I kept running. Checking my watch, I noticed I had been fairly consistent up and to this point in the race. Mile 16 showed an overall pace/mile of 9:20. Now, I'd been hoping for a finish time of 4:00 to 4:15, but these hills were beginning to take their toll on my quads. I wasn't sure yet how I would be able to pick up the pace for the remaining miles. Then we crossed over Mile 16 and came off the bridge into Manhattan. And if race bliss ever had a name, it would surely be First Avenue.

The crowds of First Avenue are much different than those found in both Brooklyn and Queens. There the streets are lined with crowds 2-3 people deep offering words of encouragement. However, here the wide avenue was stacked 4-6 people deep, all yelling at the top of their lungs. What a crowd! The entire street stretched on and on, as if you could virtually see all the way from 59th to well past 125th. Each person seemed to be screaming my name..."co'mon Mike, you can do it!", "way to go, Mike!", and "run, Mike, run!!" Of course, having my name printed on the front of my running Team World Vision jersey obviously helped with that. I'd been reminded over and over again to have my name visible throughout the race, primarily as a way for the crowds to offer their own personalized encouragement. And on First Avenue, they gave me plenty. I would hazard a guess I must have heard my name called out more than a couple hundred times throughout the race, but here is where I needed it the most. It was also here that I saw my wife and travel companions, just before Mile 17, rooting and cheering ecstatically for me. I think I heard them long before I actually saw them, they were that loud. In my opinion, Miles 16-18 were pure enjoyment. One large street, six lanes wide, and virtually a million spectators. Who could have asked for more?

However, I could tell my quads were beginning to feel kaput by Mile 19. My overall pace had been slipping ever so slightly over the past couple of miles and was threatening 9:30/mile. All of those previous hills were finally taking their toll. As I neared the dreaded "Wall" at Mile 20, my pace had officially reached 9:28 and I could tell then the final 10k was going to be a bit of a challenge. Crossing over the orange carpeting on the Willis Avenue Bridge from Manhattan into the Bronx, we were surprisingly met with a host of bag pipers as the runners wound their way off the onramp. However, here the crowds were a bit sparse. We also had a quick chance to see just how weary we all looked as each of us passed by the huge jumbo-tron screen there. But we didn't have time to soak in the sites, as this section inside the Bronx was only about a mile in total length. Before we knew it, we were headed over the Madison Ave Bridge and back into the familiar territory of Harlem and Manhattan.

Just off the bridge, we passed over Mile 21 and the crowd began picking up again. Bands were playing with gusto, family members were waving banners, and kids were handing out Halloween candy. Bless their hearts...I even had one little girl offer me a grape Jolly Rancher. How did she know they were my all-time favorite marathon hard candy? I relished the sour taste it provided and pushed on. Less than five miles to go.

Up next, we rounded the Marcus Garvey Memorial Park for Mile 22. This is a unique and totally inviting section of Harlem that just beacons "stay a while" to a tourist like myself. The shops all along the avenue were quaint and well-kept, and I tried to take a couple of photos to remember it by but my hand must have been unsteady enough that the pictures all turned out too blurry. Guess I'll have to come back someday. Within a few blocks, we could see the famous Central Park treeline up and to our right. I knew we would need to follow along the Park on Fifth Ave for a little longer than a mile before actually entering it. By now, it hurt enough that walking seemed the most inviting. But trying to start running again after that only hurt worse, so I resolved myself to just plugging along.

Mile 23 came and went quickly. By this time the crowds of people had begun to creep off of the sidewalks, narrowing the runners course to only about 10-15 feet in width. I suppose it felt much like the Tour de France, where the teams of bikers are forced to literally plow their own pathway through thousands of well-wishers. Many a time I found myself having to move towards the center of the roadway as unbudging spectators lined my intended path.

We next turned right at the Reservoir and into Central Park. Ah, running down these tree-lined roads there felt like I was running at home again. It was possibly even invigorating. Just over 2.5 miles to go. And the crowds just kept getting larger. Mile 25. I can't tell you how many times I heard my name called out. I kept running. Exiting the Park near the Plaza Hotel, we came upon the last lonely stretch on Central Park South. Quickly scanning the crowds for the trademark Yankees baseball bat and pink butterfly, I thought I caught a glimpse on the opposite side of the street. Crossing over through the throng of runners to greet them there was more difficult than I expected, however I was able to surprise them before they even had a chance to snap a photo. And, Laura, here's my photo to prove it...he, he.

At the end of Central Park South was Columbus Circle and Mile 26. Just one final turn into the park and it was almost over. I was smiling from ear to ear by this time. I could see the finish line in the distance. The official marathon signs, and the deafening crowds, all began counting it down... 400 yards to go... 300 yards to go... 200 yards to go... 100 yards to go... Thrusting my arms high into the air, I greeted these final crowds and crossed the finish line. The official clock read 4:21:57. I'd done it. What I had set out more than a year ago with ambition and the dream to run the largest and most popular marathon in the world, I had now completed only a moment ago.

I'll be honest, I truly felt the emotion of the moment swirl over me...and with misting eyes I just kept smiling.