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My Big Apple Marathon
Last Sunday, November 1st, I was lucky enough to take part in the 2009 ING New York City Marathon. What I had originally thought would be the most anxious and terrifying day of my life, had turned out to be the greatest event I had ever experienced.
From walking to the Staten Island Ferry at 6:00am, to looking for my family within the millions of people surrounding Central Park two hours after I had finished the race, the experience was worth every minute of it.
Much like most of the things I have ever done in my life, I got the idea to run in the big race after completing a ridiculously short triathlon in Muskoka just four months prior. After briefly researching marathons on the internet, I decided, what better marathon to make my debut than the biggest marathon in the world?
I immediately signed up with a great charity called Team for Kids, an organization seeking to provide a healthy lifestyle for children all over the world. Who would have thought by the end of October I would have raised over $2500 for the charity and would be ready to run the race of my life? After running nearly 65 miles a week, in addition to eating a healthy diet, a feat almost impossible for a university student, I made my way to New York City on Thursday October 29th.
After nearly three days of sightseeing such sights as Ground Zero, Times Square, and the Statue of Liberty, and experiencing just how big the city is, it was finally the eve of the marathon. After visiting the overwhelming convention filled with thousands of hardcore runners, I went to bed as early as possible at our Soho/Financial District Hotel to gain as much sleep as I could, knowing I was also gaining an hour from Daylight Savings Time.
Before I knew it, it was five o’clock in the morning and it was time to lace up the shoes, attach my timing tag, and head to the Staten Island Ferry. After a ferry ride of almost 30 minutes and a bus ride to Fort Wadsworth, I had finally reached the port-o-potty infested starting area in which over 45,000 people were preparing for the biggest race of their lives. The coaches on my charity team, Team for Kids, were excellent in stretching and hydrating our team in order to make sure everyone remained healthy while on the course.
By 10:20, my official starting time, I had eaten nearly 5 power bars and was following the mass line of people across the starting line. With Frank Sinatra’s New York New York crossing people over the start line, I was ready to go. I raced over the Verrazano Narrows Bridge crossing into Brooklyn from Staten Island. With a view of nearly the whole New York City Metropolitan area, I finished the first mile, grabbed some Gatorade and continued on my way. I was incredibly surprised by the amount of cheer and motivation that the policemen, citizens, and other marathoners gave to each other.
It was something I had never even imagined could be possible, and in New York City of all places. I don’t think I’d run faster in Brooklyn than at any other time in my life, simply from the motivation and excitement that the 3 million spectators gave throughout each of the 42 kilometers (26.2 miles), in which the course provided. Somehow my fastest miles were at the 30 kilometer point, most likely from the adrenaline that pushed me to the end.
From Staten Island, to Brooklyn, to Queens, to the Bronx, and finally Manhattan, I was within only 2 miles of the finish line. Sidewalks were filled 8 people deep throughout the rolling hills of Central Park and were boisterously cheering the marathoners on. I could not feel my legs as I hit a wall of exhaustion crossing into mile 25, yet the crowds kept me going and going, inching ever so close to the finish line.
At nearly 2:40 pm eastern, almost 9 hours after leaving for the starting line, I had crossed the finish line with a time of 4 hours, 18 minutes, and 50 seconds, finishing in 21, 594th place…out of 48,000 + thankfully. Despite not being able to move my legs or sit down, I graciously accepted my medal, my warming blanket, and my Gatorade, all with a smile on my face. I had done it! I had run 42 kilometers in just over 4 hours.
Now finding my family was the major problem, as thousands and thousands of finishers met millions of spectators, family members, and friends at the finish line. After nearly two hours of searching, a young Frenchman had let me borrow his phone to call them, in which I proceeded to 70th Street and 5th avenue for the reunion.
At this point, the Frenchman with the 12 foot tall steel Eiffel Tower slung on his back was crossing the finish line, and it was time to stumble on back to the hotel for some deserved rest and relaxation. Even though I failed to get out of bed the next day, I couldn’t help but to think of next year’s race, wanting to do it all over again in order to feel the cheer and excitement from the spectator’s crossing into Manhattan, or in any of the boroughs for that matter.
Since I finished under five hours, my name was printed in the New York Times the following day, and my four month goal to finish in the biggest marathon ever run had been accomplished. With my medal, time, and New York Times hung on my wall, I promptly prepare to knock the next item off the old bucket list.