So the way our family vacations tends to center around marathon running. We consider the races and the destinations and the timing and plan a family vacation around the race. It's worked out well for us, as we get to visit a city when it's dressed up for visitors and ready for a lot of tourists. We went to Boston in 2013, Chicago in 2014, and New York this year, which rounded out the U.S. part of the World Marathon Majors for me. We'd previously visited San Francisco for the Nike Women's Marathon in 2011 and Vancouver, BC for my first marathon in 2009, which is what got this marathon travel thing started. The others I've run (NYC was my 11th) have been semi-local.
Anyway, the reason I bring this up is because I wouldn't ordinarily walk 8-10 miles the day before a race. But we had 5 days to spend in New York, and the day before the race was Halloween, and my children wanted to wander about in costume. I was in New York for 2 days when I was 16 years old, and none of the rest of my family had been at all, and we had a lot to see.
That said, I was not expecting a PR (although I tried to train for one). I've been told that the sheer number of people and the various bridge-hills in this race are not conducive to a top-notch time. Thus, although I had trained for 3:30, I set my eyes reasonably on 3:45.
Needless to say, I neither PR'ed nor did I make my goal of 3:45.
Here's how the race went:
The course was so crowded. You know how the first mile or so of a race is so full of people that you end up running more lateral than you intend to, just to get by people? This race is 26.2 miles of that. My Nike Plus at the end of the race showed 27.0 miles, and I'm inclined to believe it. There was such a mass of humanity from start to finish. Don't get me wrong - this is one for the "pro" column as well as the "con". While trying to get around a chain of five Polish guys at mile 21 is a bit more lateral than I like at this point, the energy and diversity and community within the crowd was unparalleled.
The race starts out in Staten Island at the south end of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. Half the runners are on the top deck, and half on the bottom. I was on the lower deck, presumably because I was at the very back of Wave 1. I was so happy to be Wave 1, I had no problem with the lower deck experience. After they count down to the gun, the runners take off to Frank Sinatra's "New York, New York." I had no idea of this tradition, and it was fabulous. I was full of emotion. I stayed in touch with my Garmin, and tried not to overrun the first few miles. I pictured myself as a rock in a stream, and watched as what I assumed were less seasoned runners barreled past me, up and down the incline of the bridge into Brooklyn. I remember feeling very zen about this, and staying on top of my speed like a real pro. A check of my split times indicated that I overran the first 5 miles by about 15-20 seconds. Adrenaline, man. At least I didn't open it up, because I wouldn't have finished even as well as I did.
Anyway, Brooklyn was awesome. I was trying to stay between 8:04-8:10 per mile, and enjoy the scenery. The varied ethnic and cultural neighborhoods were really great, and I loved the brownstones lining the streets. It looked just like NYC in the movies. We went from a relatively industrial looking area to a gentrified-looking area with lots of young families to a largely African American area to a very hipsterish neighborhood with lots of Portland-esque beards, and then into the Hasidic area. It was amazing. I held my projected 8:10 pace quite well, but was feeling more fatigue than I'd have liked as we approached the halfway point on the Pulaski Bridge, between Brooklyn and Queens.
As we got into Queens, I started to come to terms with not achieving my desired time, and decided to try to enjoy the scenery a bit more, and relax my pace a bit. I slowed to 8:20-8:25 and took in the crowds. Queens was fantastic. Such a loud and enthusiastic crowd of what seemed to be every variety of person imaginable. People held signs from every state and country, and some funny ones, too. "Welcome to Queens. Now get the hell out!" was one of the best. We weren't in Queens long - just a couple miles, but it had one of the most memorable sensory experiences. The super loud crowd was booming, and the runners make a left turn to get onto the Queensborough Bridge to Manhattan, and suddenly: silence. There are no spectators allowed on this bridge, which I'm guessing was about a mile long, and mostly uphill. Going from screaming crowd to the near silence of breaths and footfalls would have been eerie if it weren't kind of amazing. People complained about both the hill and the silence later, but I liked it. I train on hills, so the incline didn't bother me much, and the silence was nice. I looked forward to cresting the hill, but was met with a headwind, so it wasn't as much of a relief as I'd have liked. However, as we went down the hill (off-ramp) into Manhattan, the roar of the crowd came up and we were once again in the tunnel of sound.
Queensborough Bridge: 
As we got into Manhattan at mile 16, my foot started to really hurt (I've been having low levels of pain for about 6 months), so I slowed way down. I tried to maintain 8:40-8:45 from here. Still, although I felt a little panicked that I wouldn't finish in under 4 hours, I thought there was nothing to do but enjoy the city, so I tried to conserve energy by at least staying consistent. In this particular pass through Manhattan, we were running up First Avenue, which is very long, very straight, and has some gently rolling hills. The visual was pretty exciting: crowds of people 5-deep on either side of the road, and a river of colorful heads bobbing up and down ahead of me for miles. I kept my eyes on the horizon and looked for the Bronx up ahead.
As we crossed the bridge into the Bronx, the crowd changed, but the energy was great. The Bronx looked less densely populated than Manhattan, but the streets were lined with people cheering us on. There were a couple of musicians singing hiphop music, and some street dancers entertaining the crowds. We weren't there for long, but we passed the 20-mile mark up there, and there was a crowd gathered around that milestone cheering extra loud. Shortly thereafter, we crossed the last bridge of the marathon. There was a woman at the foot of the bridge with a sign saying "The Last Damn Bridge". I laughed out loud, and wished that I'd stopped to take her picture. (I needn't have worried - this may have been the most photographed sight on the course. I saw quite a few on Instagram). I was working hard as I approached the zenith, and two nice guys were right at the top offering encouragement - "Nothing but downhill to Central Park!"
Once we were back in Manhattan, we ran down Fifth Avenue through Harlem and some of the best crowd support of the race. The guy in front of me slowed to a walk, and a man on the sidelines, apparently reading the man's name off his shirt yelled out "I know you're not stopping here, Darren. You just gonna keep on running Darren!" Darren and I both picked up a little speed.
Central Park
At the north edge of Central Park begins a gradual incline. Oddly, this felt great to me, and I picked up a little speed. I'd been slowing to something like a 9:00 mile at this point, and I gained a bit of energy here, from about mile 23-24. At mile 24 the course started going back downhill, and my soleus (calf) went into spasm. (Fun fact: my calf has done this three times before, and every dang time it's been at exactly 24 miles). I pulled over to the side to stretch a bit, and walked for about a quarter mile before picking back up to a run. Everything was fine, but I logged a 9:45 that mile. Mile 25 brought us to the south end of the park, running past a handful of buildings all apparently named Trump. People appeared to be dropping like flies. I'm not sure I've ever seen so many people throwing up and collapsing in the last mile of a race. I'm sure my mind is exaggerating it, but I felt just fine plugging along at a 9:00 pace at this point. We turned north back into the park, crossed the 26 mile marker, and I accelerated as much as I could to get into the chute.
When all was said and done, I clocked a 3:56:39, squeaking in under 4 hours, but feeling quite good. The long walk to get the poncho (or to bag check for those who chose that option) was certainly a trek, but I wasn't complaining. I think it's good to shake out the legs a bit with a good walk.
Finish Line!
