Urban Athletics/NYC Marathon 2009

My Friend For 16

Not sure where to start with this.  This is the marathon recap.  Do I start with the end and work my way back or do I just go in chronological order?  Well, you know as well as I know I do this totally “on the fly (girl)”  so whatever happens…happens.  Plus I have a big bottle of Sam Adams “Octoberfest,” so it’s just a matter of time before I am naked (Nooooooooo) and writing.  I mean who came up with this idea of a 22 oz. beer?  As if 12 oz wasn’t good enough to get you buzzed, here’s an extra 10 oz to get you hammered.

So much happened over the last day or so.  First off, Adam came in and stayed overnight just like last year, which was exactly the way I needed it.  Remember I had a great race (2:58) and now I was gonna’ try and knock off 8 minutes from that time.  Adam brought over his wheat pasta.  I literally start to crap like a thoroughbred when I look at wheat pasta.  Now all I had to do was run like a thoroughbred.  Sounds simple enough.  We had a nice meal…oh yeah, I pretended like I knew what I was doing with the top part of the stove….ya’ know the part that has the burners on it…is that still the stove??  I don’t know…I was clanging the pot against the stove “thing” to make it seem as though I was a cook.  I’m sure Adam saw right through my inability in the kitchen.  He’s great in that he is polite and goes right along with allowing me to think I am a cook.  Thanks Adam….

We went through our uniform set-ups, shoes, etc.  Gerson reminded us to bring toss away running shoes and to change into our racing shoes at the starting line as the grass where we would be warming up would be wet.  To change into our racing shoes early would leave us with wet shoes for the start of the race.  With everything situated, we decided to go to sleep early as with the clocks being turned back, we might be able to get 7 hours of sleep, which is unheard of on marathon eve.

So off we went…I even woke up in the night to pee as that is a good sign…I knew I was hydrated…all systems go!  A few more hours and “Last Man Standing” by Bon Jovi woke me up from my IPhone.  A quick shower to wake up and for breakfast it was oatmeal and frozen French Toast.  Yep, I can even cook international cuisine as French Toast is different than the American Toast.  I tossed those frozen concoctions into the toaster and 2 minutes later, I was carbo-loading and drowning in syrup.

Fast forward…Adam and I hit the 6:30 Staten Island Ferry and arrived at Fort Wadsworth at 7:30 after a nauseating bus ride from the Ferry Terminal to the Marathon Site.  Everything feels right.  Adam and I are sweating profusely from the bus ride, but we are taking in all the sights.  We take in the amounts of security, the amounts of international folks….oh let’s get into that.  Adam has to use the big boys room so we stop at a porta potty as we are walking to our areas.  HELLOOOOOO International folks…..the lock on the porta potty is for YOU TO LOCK IT!!!!!!  Adam had a not so nice greeting as he opened what he thought was an empty porta potty.  I suggested he see an ophthalmologist as I think he may have damaged his retinas.  So, do you think the guy would have locked the potty???  No, he still didn’t lock it.  He finished, then came out.  I was ready to take down his bib number to have him disqualified for lack of common sense.  I can’t have that type running with me.  Adam walked with me to the local elite area and….wished each other well…and parted ways.

Here I was…the place I earned…the place I worked so hard to get to….the place that came with free Power Bars….the place with the preferred start….and I could care less….there is front of me was my own porta-potty.  I was ready to cry from the emotion.  I had made it!  I had a place to sit!  Rather than go into the details, let’s just leave it as I “evacuated the troops,” “dropped a deuce,” “cut some cable like a Con Ed worker,” I mean….you can’t get to mile 14 and have this kind of thing knocking at the back door….makes sense??  We’re all on the same page??

Moving right along….I felt the need to lead my posse…wow look at me all street-like with my lingo.  I’m like that talentless guy that rips off rifs from every successful artist and packages it as his own…what’s his name??  Oh yeah, I’m Puff Daddy…no wait, I’m Puffy….hang on, I think I’m P.Diddy….what’s that I’m Sean Combs??…Ok, I’ll go with that…what…that’s not right either…today he or rather I am Sean Puffy Combs??  Or Sean Jean…listen up…whatever he is…he is the musical equivalent of The Pet Rock!!!!  If you own his stuff, don’t blame me…you bought into the sham!

So my posse is Mikey, Emily and Gerson.  You guys know, I’ve created a bond with these guys/gal that is like an older brother/teammate.  First off I have two of the coolest younger brothers that keep me young, fast and hungry to be fast….and I have the nicest sister I never had and she keeps me hungry to be fast as well…so off we went to our preferred start and our corral.  I noticed immediately that there were folks that were not “local elite” in front of us in the coral.

Listen, I am not an elitest, although I prefer the Gulfstream over the LearJet, but that’s as far as I go when it comes to that kind of stuff.  However these guys earned a spot in front and I was gonna get them to the front.  I knew I was gonna pee, so I said I was heading up to get us a spot, pee, strip down.  I leaned a new term…”pop-a-squat.”  Who says you are too old.  It’s when a female has to go #1.  Thanks sis.

I could not believe how many non-local-elite were crowding the starting line trying to get a better start.  Okay the F-bomb was being used more than I can remember as I was yelling at these internationals “you have not earned this spot…get the F outta here.”  I never said I was gonna be a diplomat.  Finally the person controlling the starting line came over to check out the commotion.  I told him “they didn’t earn the spot, we did….add in a few F’s.”  Fortunately Gerson pointed out our number and we were escorted into the front row.  ”I meant what he said,” was all I could muster.  I was ready to rock or at the very least toss a few 100 international runners off of the Verreazano Bridge.

Blah blah blah…speeches….Mayor Bloomberg…thank you Mike….Mary Witlessberg….same speech as last year Mary….this race is $180.00…I think you can do better than to recycle an old speech…and yes, I am willing to give next years speech.  It’s about teaching foreigners to lock porta potty doors and to stay in the correct coral!!!!

BOOOOOOM….that’s my attempt at a cannon sound….and away we go.  Gerson and Emily are going together…Mikey and I are together.  My concern is containing my young buck.  He has more energy than TT Boy in his early days….I mean this guy is a dynamo.  He runs 10 meters in front of me no matter what.  Add a leash and it looks as though he is walking me….Mikey is concerned we are slow on mile one which is uphill on the bridge.  I promise him we will be on time.  With precision, I nail it….same thing with the fast downhill mile 2.  We are ahead, but not too bad.

I look over at Gerson at Emily….I am already proud!  It’s hard to explain what I am feeling.  I’ve never felt this before.  It’s always been about me as I usually race solo.  I told Gerson months ago, if all you (all 3) beat me, it would be the happiest day for me…assuming I ran a decent day and so did they.  To see them in full stride, flowing down the Verrazano Bridge was a sight to see….trust me…it was as sweet as watching the elite Kenyans.

We cruised through Brooklyn…up Fourth Avenue.  I know you want to hear more about me…so presumptuous….at the 5k mark (20 and change), I developed a “stitch.”  I tried to take water at the 2+ mile mark, which was not planned.  I mentioned I have a drinking problem…half of it wound up on my gloves, leaving me cold.  Some made it into my mouth, along with gulps of air….SUX!!!  Who cares, I can gut this type of stuff out.  Mikey was chatty and I explained I could not talk because of it…I wanted him to know that I was not annoyed at him…I just could not talk…I had to “clear” this cramp.

Okay, for me…here is one of my favorite moments…I saw a sign for Adam at Atlantic Avenue and I knew it was for my buddy Adam….there was Carly, his mom and his dad….remember his dad is my idol…the one that made my childhood so happy with his music.  I was able to touch one or two of them (don’t know who) and was happy that Adam would be seeing that soon.  This is mile 8.

As we headed to mile 10, I felt a burning sensation….hey…not gonorrhea…but what I knew was themstart of a blister.  Rather than get negative, I welcomed it and made it my friend as I knew I would have him for 16 miles.  I knew I had to adjust my stride….by the way, these are things many folks don’t realize…just when all is right….you have to deal with adversity.  I am blister prone as a forefoot runner, but the adjustment felt fine.  However I noticed I dropped back a few meters off of Mikey.  This was a concern.  I had been tucking in on Mikey and he was happy to do it….I could not ask more of a partner…except…perhaps he be a female, but that’s entirely another story….anyway by mile 11, I saw I was not going to stay with him with this new foot-strike.

I kinda’ knew 2:50 was probably not gonna’ happen as everything had to be perfect, but I was okay with dropping off a couple of minutes.  Keith Pepper came in out of the crowd.  If he were Lee Harvey Oswald, I was a dead man as he on me so fast…hey where is my protection?!?!?!?  Oh yeah, this is only local elite not elite.  I actually dropped the side “stitch” while running with Keith…oh yeah…remember Keith is the guy from the “Pep Shop Boys” and “Salt and Pepper.”  Ladies…trust me on this…he is ripped, fast and single.  Keith led me to my coach Todd, who had my fluids bottle….22 oz of steroids, amphetamines, ….just seeing is you were paying attention….strictly Gatorade Endurance.  I felt great, other than my new blister friend.

My next fluid stop would be mile 18….all that was left was to focus, run, deal with the 59th bridge and make my way up 1st Avenue.  I downed all 22 oz that Todd gave me and I was up and over the 59th St. Bridge.  I was concerned with my pace as I felt it should have been faster….no time to stress as I felt good.

First Avenue is loud.  I wear my cap low like Andy Petite and try to drown out the crowd the same way Andy does.  I think it is something that has always made me tough as a runner.  I can either use the crowd to my benefit or if I want to shut them off I can do that as well.  Yesterday, I used them and heard more people that I ever thought.  I was really touched by the amount of people that called out my name.  Some I saw and I usually bring my hand to my lips to signal to them….others I could not look at and just heard them.  My friend John came in from NJ and still amazed me that he is willing to do this….I can’t get anyone from my family to do this, and yet he does it without me asking…he is a special guy.  I saw Lara and it was great. as well as Samara!!

Unfortunately folks, you can turn off the program at this point as this is where the shite hits the fan.  At mile 18 was where I was supposed to get my final liquids/fuel and I did not see them nor did they see me.  This is where you run the risk of the “wall.”

Honestly, I recall thinking to my imaginary blister friend….”what do we do now?”  ”You decide”  ”No You!”  Again, for the layman, in the marathon you start to get giddy, almost delirious, you don’t think clearly and time is not accurate.  What feels like 30 seconds may only be 5 seconds.  So I’m freaking out and trying to decide whether to stop at water tables to hydrate, knowing that will surely slow me up or to try and hang on for a personal best as 2:54 is out of the window.  But I may be able to still get under 2:58.  I have not had a drink since mile 12….I rationalize….I went from July without alcohol, surely I can do this without water….the mind does crazy things in the marathon…

Folks, ohhh, let me say it was great seeing Rina, Nadine and others at the First Avenue Bridge.  The reason I say others is because I was in deep shite and I could not take in who was there….I was really scared at this point as I was heading into the Bronx…Okay, maybe I was scared because it was the South Bronx, but it’s more because I was confused with my dilemma.

So, I decided after I passed Alex in the Bronx to continue without liquids and to try to finish without slowing up for the tables.  Maybe I could hang on for the last 5 miles and still PR??  I still had 5th Avenue to climb and I felt my energy meter draining like a glitch in a video game.

Sure enough 5th Avenue came and as hard as I tried with 3 miles to go, I could not lift.  I was dropping to 8 minute pace.  It hurt emotionally, but there wasn’t a thing I could do.  The damage was done.  The brightest moment came when Emily passed by me with 2+ miles to go.  She looked great.  So strong…how I wanted to join her as I knew she was going under 3 hours.  But this was not going to happen.  I needed to be concerned at his point with my muscles cramping up as dehydration was setting in.  As I headed into Central Park, Gerson came by and this is another of those highlights.  Gerson had an opportunity to go under 3 hours and he was determined to jump start my engines.  Three Red Bulls and my favorite Filipino could not have jump started me at this point.  I literally had to order him to move on down Cat Hill without me.  I knew I was going to finish, but my 2:50 was gone, my PR was gone, my sub 3 hour was gone….this was about not giving in.  My teammates were already giving me a smile….and it was up Central Park West, back into Central Park for the final 400+ meters to Tavern….and there was Gerson waiting for me with a hearty handshake and a hug.  He even took the time to hydrate me as I was not ready for prime time.

He had PR’d….so did  Emily and Mikey ran the 2:50 (PR) we set out to do….I was sooooo disappointed in my choices, decisions, lack of back-up plan for hydration and yet I had these 3 that I trained with all nail it!  I could not be more proud of them.

What’s next??  Perhaps Boston in April….for now….

….See you in the bars!

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