Pain is temporary, but pride is forever

One year ago I experienced the NYC Marathon for the 1st time as a spectator.  About 5 months ago I found out I would run the 2009 Marathon as a Charity Runner for the American Cancer Society.  Three weeks ago I ran my last, long 20 mile run of training.  And a little more than 24 hours ago I my first steps on the Verrazano Narrows bridge on a journey that would take my 26.2 miles through all 5 boroughs.

Three hours, 40 minutes and 54 seconds later I crossed the finish line in the southwest corner of Central Park.

I was a FINISHER in the greatest Marathon on the face of the Earth.

The journey on race day lived up to every expectation I had conceived over the year long wait for the race and the more than 650 miles of training logged during the last 18 weeks.  I had never been a part of an event quite like the Marathon - most likely, because there just aren’t many event like this that exist.

Here’s what I mean - my race day began with a subway ride down to the Staten Island Ferry, where I joined thousands of other runners on a scenic ride past Lady Liberty to Staten Island where the race begins.  It takes hours, and an incredible amount of coordination to get 40,000 racers to the start line in an orderly fashion, but somehow the NY Road Runners figure out a way to get it done each year.

I was in Wave 2 of starters, so I got see the first group of 15,000 or so runners take off before me.  Rather, I didn’t actually see them, as I was answering nature’s call in one of the thousands of Port-o-Johns staged by the entrance when the Howitzer gun blasted, announcing the race’s start to the cheers of the masses.  As Wave 1 took off, the traditional sound of Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” blared from the speakers.

“If I can make it there, I’ll make it, anywhere”

The first two miles of the race are a mile uphill on the Verrazano Bridge followed by a downhill into Brooklyn.  With skyline views of Manhattan to your left, open water on your right, and the prospect of the fulfillment of your dreams 26 miles in your future, there’s no way to describe the confluence of emotions of those first steps.

The next 10+ miles are spent traversing the streets of Brooklyn, and the course takes you through every conceivable type of neighborhood in an hour.  While spectators are few in the first several miles, by the time you hit mile 5, there is an endless stream of supporters willing the competitors along.

As you pass through the crowds you realize that there are people of every age, race and creed.  And among all of them - all 2 million - is a commonality on this special day.  It’s the marathon that has brought them together, whether to hand out bananas and towels, or to simply provide a supportive cheer.  It’s a beautiful representation of how the world should be, and inspiring to know that it is this way, at least for a day.

The mid-way point of the race occurs just as you’re crossing a small bridge from Brooklyn into Queens.  At this point I was feeling great about my pace, which had remained pretty consistent and fast by my standards up to that point.  As I crossed the streets of Long Island City I got a boost by seeing a group of friends who cheered me on, and I made my way to the next big hill - the Queensboro Bridge between Queens and Manhattan.  Though the bridge is fairly steep and about a mile long, I felt great the whole way and found myself passing by more than a few runners.  It was great to step foot on the isle of Manhattan and feel the buzz of energy from the thousands who pack 1st Avenue.

Making my way north on 1st Avenue, I was intently watching the street signs as I knew Tracy and our friends Hannah and Stephen would be waiting around 71st Street.  Sure enough, they were there to provide yet another much needed boost.  Tracy made a shirt to mark the occasion (“Run Daddy Run” it said across her belly) and loaned Hannah a shirt with my crazy face on it.  Though it’s only a momentary glimpse along the long race, seeing familiar faces provides an amazing burst.

Not long after seeing the crew at the ~17 mile mark, I unfortunately found myself running headfirst into the proverbial “Wall” that so many marathoners talk about.  I had felt great through most of the race, but suddenly felt completely zapped of energy and the beginnings of cramps in my legs.  I took one of the Energy Goos provided at a hydration station and found that it provided an almost immediate benefit.  The energy boost allowed me to get through a couple miles feeling somewhat normal, which put me into the Bronx and around the 21 mile mark.

It was at this point that I really came face to face with the fact that my body was beginning to quit on me.  What followed was 5.2 miles of absolute pain.  With every step I was making a conscious effort to simply move forward, even though every fiber of my body was telling me it was a bad idea.  Just once, for a few seconds, I wondered if I would finish.  It was a temporary moment of doubt, and representative of the type of thought which you have to battle in the last stretch of a marathon.  For as much of a physical test the race is, the mental battle is surely almost as tough. I happened to see one sign that caught my eye on the grind up 5th Avenue - it was a fitting summation of why we all were continuing to run:

“Pain is temporary, but pride is forever”

Somehow, someway, I made it into Central Park for the final 3 miles.  Once again I saw Hannah and Stephen at the 24 mile mark, still slogging along at a pace which was much slower than at our first meeting at mile 17.  I didn’t know it at the time, but our friends Jordan, Trevor (and baby Austin) Smith were on the other side of the street and Jordan captured this action shot at the ~24 mile mark.

Finally, I made it through Columbus Circle and into the SW corner of the park for the last .2 miles of the run.  I didn’t know it at the time, but Tracy had scored a free ticket from a friendly fan and had hustled herself - 9 months pregnant! - across the city to the finish line.  She was there in time to see me take my final steps, as Jay-Z’s Empire State of Mind blared on the loud speakers

“New York!
Concrete jungle where dreams are made of,
There’s nothing you can’t do,

Now you’re in New York!
These streets will make you feel brand new,
the lights will inspire you,

Let’s hear it for New York, New York, New York”

It was over.  I was done.  As I crossed the line I thought of all the hours, all the people who were supporting me, all the time spent thinking about what this exact moment would be like.  And then the moment was here, and I could feel myself getting emotional, almost wanting to cry tears of joy.  Only problem was, I was too tired to cry!  Instead, I settled for one of the infamous foil heat blankets and the plodding walk to get my bag.  A few minutes later I met up with Tracy and superfans Hannah and Stephen on Central Park West.  They asked me how it felt, and all I could say was:

I feel great.  I am a finisher!

(Verrazano Bridge photo from Flickr)