Thoughts After Running the New York City Marathon

I began training for the NYC Marathon in March with a circle around November 3rd on my calendar. Marathon training started out relatively well. Then, a few months in, plantar fasciitis on my left foot flared up. After treating it for a month with Alleviate Therapy and physical therapy, I was back on the road. Still, I needed to continue with the Alleviate products and get foot massages frequently.

Then, one day during one of my long runs, my Achilles on my left leg froze up. I was 3 miles from home and limped the rest of the way. I started acupuncture right away and went once a week all the way until the marathon. The injuries kept me from preparing the way I had hoped. My original goal was to run the marathon under 4 hours. As the marathon crept closer, my final goal was to simply finish.

The day before the marathon, I went to the Javits Center to pick up my bib. Thousands of people walked between the ropes through the entrance. I shuffled along with everyone else, which is when I noticed everyone seemed fit. With people close behind, close in front, and on all sides, I felt overwhelmed. Once inside the big room, I found a wall and leaned against it. Thoughts of entering the marathon being the worst decision of my life flowed through my entire body. My chest felt heavy and sweat beads sprouted on my brow. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I repeated the exercise several times. After calming myself down, I picked up my bib and made my way through a maze of fitness attire for sale and a variety of other products.

Still feeling out of it, I bought some things that I probably didn’t need. Usually when I’m at a big trade show, I pitch brands to work with. I wondered if I should give that a try, but stuck to the path and made my way out. As I was walking toward the exit, I saw a gigantic wall with all the marathoners’ names listed. I found my name among the many others. I took another deep breath and realized with over 50,000 names, I probably wasn’t alone in feeling inadequate to run the marathon.

The night before the marathon, I went out to eat at my favorite Italian restaurant (Sac’s Place) in Astoria. I chowed down on chicken parm, pizza, and garlic bread. That night, I took a little sleep enhancer along with my usual anxiety medication and tried to go to sleep early. Unfortunately, I kept waking up out of my slumber, paranoid that I had missed the start time.

My alarm went off at 4am and I checked the subway times. It appeared I would cut it close to catch the bus that would take me to Staten Island. I ordered an Uber, and we headed into midtown Manhattan. The Uber driver said as we got close, “I’ve never seen it so busy at this time before.” When I left the car, I smiled as I usually do when I see the lion statues outside of the New York Public Library. Ghostbusters is one of my all-time favorite movies and the scene where they run out of the library screaming is one of my all-time favorite scenes.

As I made my way through the long line to get to the buses, my friend Patrick, who talked me into the marathon, was waiting for me. We hugged, and both stated how not ready we were. By this time, it was 5am and a sea of runners inched their way towards a line of busses. Eventually, we found a seat on a bus and headed to Staten Island.

Once off the bus, we walked to the charity section, where our Alzheimer’s team had a tent for us to hang out in. The tent was my home from 6am until 11:30am. During that time, I laid in the grass, walked around, chatted with other runners, and ate a plethora of Dunkin’ Donuts bagels. As the day moved along, I felt less and less nervous and wanted the day to be over with.

Our line-up was called, and we walked towards the starting line. The National Anthem was sung and cannons blasted. We walked until there was space enough to run. Once the Verrazzano Bridge opened up, we were off to the races.

The race began easily, and Patrick and I joined up with Katherine and Christina, two other runners raising money for the Alzheimer’s Association. Usually when I run, I listen to music or podcasts. During the race, I never put my earbuds in, because we were in conversation or listening to the crowd yell and chant.

As we ran along, the energy from the crowd was phenomenal. I’ve never experienced anything like it. People had their hands out for high fives, people passed out bananas and orange slices, and even beers. Funny signs adorned the fences. The noise from the crowd was inspiring and definitely helped and something that will stick with me the rest of my life. My adrenaline would not have been where it was had it not been for the New York City crowd.

The biggest boost of the day came while running in Queens. As I ran toward the Queensboro Bridge, I saw my daughter in the street holding a sign. My feet suddenly became light, and I ran towards her. As I approached, I saw two of my other kids. This was the closest I came to crying that day.

At about mile 20, my Achilles tightened up and my leg started hurting. I went into a medical tent, hoping for some muscle release spray, but they were out. A gracious volunteer helped stretch out my leg, and I was back on the road.

At mile 22, my body was mad. Everything was tired and hurting. Both legs were tight and in pain. My stomach was upset (I will not discuss the port-a-potties ever), my abs were in pain, my shoulders sore, and I was hungry.

 

Seeing Central Park was a boost, but it was hard to get my body in the right gears. I had zero left in my tank, but we drudged on.

At 24 miles, I felt as though I was moving in slow motion. I’ve heard people talk about runner’s high and they must be lying, because I experienced no such thing. I did experience light-headedness, pain all over, and a lack of willpower.

Finally, 26.2 showed up on my Apple watch and I crossed the finish line. Before the race, I wondered what my reaction would be when I crossed the line. Turns out, relief was the only reaction. My friend Janelle, who is a Road Runners volunteer, greeted me and placed a medal around my neck. It was fitting that she was the one to do so.  There were no tears; just hand claps, hugs, and exhaustion.

After walking out of Central Park, which takes forever after the marathon, I met up with my family. They were a welcomed sight, and I appreciated all the love and praise they heaped upon me. We looked at getting an Uber, but it cost $150 to get home. Still,I was tempted to splurge. Ditching the thought, we headed to the subway, where each step sent a painful response up my shaking legs.

 

Finally, we exited the subway near my home and went into a pub close by, where I engulfed a double bacon cheeseburger, fries, and 2 Guinness. Once home, I took a long Epsom salt bath and went to bed early.

A month before the marathon, I was asked if I would run another one. I emphatically said, “no.” Now that I’ve run one, I think I will run again. My recovery hasn’t been too bad, and it was a lot of fun to run. The worst part was the preparation. Leading up to the marathon, I was running 17 plus miles one day a weekend. That’s a lot of time. The runs during the week weren’t too bad, because they were 5 to 10 miles. That’s a lot of time to be away from the family and have to ask them to help.

I have many people to thank for the past 8 months:
*To my family, thank you for giving me the space I need to train and the support during the race.
*To everyone that gave to my fundraiser, thank you. I couldn’t have made it to the starting line without your financial sacrifices.
*To Patrick, you’re a jerk for talking me into it, but thank you anyway.
*To the Alzheimer’s Association, thank you for allowing me to be part of an amazing team and helping me through training and the marathon.
*To New Yorkers, you guys are a beast! Amazing job supporting the runners.
*To friends, thank you for encouragement and getting me out of the house and on the road.

I’ve taken a few days to heal, relax, and eat a bunch of unhealthy food. Soon, I’ll be back on the road and in the gym. And maybe, begin preparing for the 2025 New York City Marathon.