Race Report: The 2014 TCS New York City Marathon - Part 2

So there I was, borderline tearing up and crossing the start line of the marathon. I'd decided to set out with the 4:30 pace group because I was a little intimidated at the prospect of running with 4:15. I didn't feel that my training had been up to snuff and the idea of an overly ambitious start scared me a bit.

From the minute we started running the bridge, I could tell it would be a trying day for many people. The wind was much stronger than I remembered it in previous years. Abandoned clothing was whipping around on the ground and I saw multiple people trip and fall. Our pace leader apologized in advance and profusely, just in case she the wind blew the sign she was carrying into someone's face. As our small group made its way across the bridge, the pace group leader began chatting a bit. In my opinion, chat is a major benefit of running with pace groups. It makes the whole race seem like more of a team effort. Anyway, our pace group leader told us that NYC was her 124th marathon! And I thought I was getting up there in numbers.

I stuck with the group for about the length of the bridge before finding my own pace, which turned out to be a good bit faster. Somewhere between miles 2 and 3 in Bay Ridge, I started to get a little too warm and so abandoned my sweatshirt on a barricade. Hopefully, someone will make good use of it. Soon after that, we were on 4th Avenue in Brooklyn, where I had my first on-course friend sighting at the 5k mile marker. It was Darian! He was helping on the course and I was able to wave to him as I ran by.

The next person I saw was my friend Emily, who had let me know a couple places where she'd be on the course. I got some high fives and was again on my way through downtown Brooklyn. My next friend target was Ali, with whom I used to play recreational basketball. I looked for her around the Brooklyn Academy of Music, but no dice. Onward!

Between miles 9 and 10 we entered Williamsburg, which is part of one of my favorite running routes. At some point, we turned onto Bedford Avenue and headed up toward Greenpoint, where I knew another friend, Tiffany, would be cheering at mile 12. As I approached, though, I realized I hadn't asked her which side she would be standing on. I took a gamble on the left side and found out five or ten minutes later that she had been on the other side. Alas!

The halfway point of the race came somewhere in the middle of the Pulaski Bridge. I checked my watch and saw that I was on pace for just about four hours, and so figured if I could at least mostly keep my pace up, I would finish just above that. I never have been a negative splitter.

The next person on my route was Tom and his fiancee, Carmen, who told me they would be cheering just before the Queensboro Bridge. Unfortunately, though, I missed them, too. No matter! I was feeling good as we made our way onto the Queensborough Bridge.

I think maybe 1 out of 10 people on the Queensborough were actually enjoying themselves at that point. I was one of those and I made every attempt to rally my fellow runners. At a few points, I tried the hoot and holler. For the most part, though, no one was having my crap. I think I might have gotten one enthusiastic response but otherwise my cheers were met with radio silence. Well, panting and heaving, if not silence. When we had almost reached the end of the bridge, I yelled "WOOOO! Manhattan!"

My words sat in the air for a bit and I tried running a little faster, figuring everyone around me had probably had enough. But finally, one girl turned to me and said, "this is my favorite part." I turned to her, incredulous, and said, "mine, too!" And it was glorious. Taking that turn is like running into New York City's open arms. The road exits the south end of the bridge and wraps around under a tunnel, leading runners north on First Avenue. For that entire portion and through the next five or ten blocks, spectators are four and five people deep and their energy and excitement is palpable. For however brief a moment, it's easy to forget that you're 16 miles into a marathon.

Ali had said she would be in that area as well, so I scanned the crowd as I ran by but didn't see her. The next people on my official list were Julia (92nd and 1st) and Monica and Helen (94th and 1st). As I passed 78th Street, I looked out for my friend Jorge, who had not explicitly said he'd be there but also lives in the area. No luck, though, so I continued on. In that stretch, we passed mile 18. I briefly considered taking a PowerGel that was being distributed, but decided against it, as I didn't actually feel like I needed it. Course volunteers were also handing out wet sponges, but it was way too cold for me to want any of that.

Finally, I reached the 90's. I missed Julia (my overall ratio of seen:missed friends was low) but saw Helen and Monica and came in for some high fives. The guy standing next to them even gave me a high five!

After that, the next two miles toward the Bronx was a bit of a slog. My hamstring was beginning to really bother me. It had started hurting earlier in the race, but I'd managed to put it away by telling myself that it was simply too early in the race (mile 6) to indulge it. 12-13 miles later, though, the tightness was back and it was much more difficult to ignore. I found myself having to stop and stretch it out at least once a mile starting at 19 or 20.

After an uneventful time in the Bronx, we entered Manhattan again on 5th Avenue and almost immediately saw the 21 mile marker. I knew my next stop would be my Hudson Duster friends just after mile 23. I could not have been happier to see all of them and ran down the line, giving high fives the whole time. I even got my own race beverage, which I very nearly coughed into someone's face. Ahhh…the marathon.

Soon after that stop, I saw Helen and Monica one more time. This time, I meant serious business and came in for a full-on hug. Helen was really thoughtful and brought me a banana. Unfortunately, eating a banana was not in the cards for me at that moment, so I had to refuse and I continued on my way. Next on my list was the Cornell water stop at mile 25. Honestly, I didn't even know anyone giving out water, but I still always look forward to that one.

Soon after that, I knew I only had a little over a mile left and decided to dig in and finish. To my surprise, Emily (whom I last saw around mile 7) was there right after the Mile 25 water stop for a last minute boost! I made the turn onto 59th Street and began the final stretch. I knew I had 3 more avenues and about two tenths of a mile to go after that, so I took it one at a time. 6th Avenue, then 7th (near where Monica, Jeremy and I used to live) and finally 8th. Somewhere between 7th and 8th I was pleasantly surprised by an 11th hour friend sighting when I saw Ali! I heard her cheer as I passed and saw her out of the corner of my eye and if I hadn't been so darn close to the finish, I would have swung around.

At that point, though, nothing was stopping me. I barreled on through Columbus Circle and into Central Park, knowing the finish was only a couple tenths of a mile away. At that point, I couldn't help but pick up the pace as I ran past burgeoning crowds and across the finish line.

5 down, hopefully at least a dozen more to go.

I know this post has already overstayed its welcome, but I want to emphasize how much I love this race and this day. This year and every year. It somehow manages to be both heavy with meaning and buoyant with hope and excitement. And people show themselves to be so, so good. All of the good adjectives you can use to describe people are applicable on this day. They are good, kind, true, generous, warm, gracious, brave and strong. And even if, in the grand scheme of things, it's just a foot race, it assures me that we can rise to even greater, more urgent occasions.

EDIT: After thinking about this a bit, I discovered the sentence in bold is probably a minor internalization of a Maya Angelou quote I love. It's not the same and doesn't explain the exact same sentiment, but it echoes her words and so I am including it here, primarily in the interest of transparency:

"One isn't necessarily born with courage, but one is born with potential. Without courage, we cannot practice any other virtue with consistency. We can't be kind, true, merciful, generous, or honest."

-Maya Angelou

IM Story #5: A New Team

You may recall that I found a triathlon coach soon after my first successful half Ironman distance race in May. This is Brian Hammond, head of a triathlon team called The Everyday Triathlete. My experience with Brian has been stellar. About a month prior to Ironman, I went to a weekend triathlon camp organized by Brian, his wife Sarah, and partner in Everyday Triathlon, Travis.

Spending time with a group of people who share the same goals and motivations that I have was new and exciting. Instead of being the crazy one who’s training for the Ironman, I fit right in! Whether or not we’re all crazy or not crazy is irrelevant because we’re all in the sport of triathlon together, and that comes with many perks. Namely, a spirit of camaraderie that I’ve sorely missed through most of my time as a triathlete.

Six Everyday Triathlete team members whom I met at camp (Brian K., Chad, Chad, TJ, Dave, William) also raced the Ironman US Championship. Being able to spot others in the same uniform and yell encouragement/hear encouragement yelled at me was an element of racing that I haven’t experienced too much and which I very much appreciated.

Brian K. and I took the same ferry to drop off our bikes. He took this pic!

Brian, Sarah and Travis were even on the course cheering for us! They set up around mile 11 of the bike and were there for what had to have been 6 or 7 hours. Hearing them cheer was a huge boost each time I passed.

Seeing Brian and Travis yards from the finish line totally blew me away. I think I finished well behind the others on the team, and yet they still stayed and cheered me through the end! For that, I will always be grateful. Thanks so much to everyone at The Everyday Triathlete. You helped make my Ironman (triathlon as a whole, really) experience more than I imagined it could be.

Note: Coach Brian and teammate Maura will be racing at the Rev3 Iron distance race in Cedar Point this weekend. Best of luck to both of them!

IM Story #4: In Good Company

In 2010, I met my friend Jared while playing recreational quidditch (for the record, there is a difference between recreational and competitive quidditch). Jared told me his remarkable story of losing 100+ pounds over a few years and how running had helped him do it. He then told me that he ran pretty regularly with a group called Soles on Fire and said he’d ask the group leader to put my name on the weekly running list.

That group leader was Trey. I had the pleasure of going on a few of his weekend group runs that summer. I even remember Trey wishing me good luck just before my first Half Iron in Providence. Trey ran his first marathon (Trey, if you read this, correct me if anything is wrong) in Greece (coolest thing ever) that fall along with Jared’s girlfriend, Meret (whom you’ll also hear about again). Stories colliding everywhere!

In June 2011, about a week before registration opened for Ironman, I saw that Trey posted about it and asked him if he was signing up. He did, and though he moved from NYC to San Francisco later in the summer, I liked knowing someone else who was taking on the same gigantic challenge.

I was happy to see Trey at the end of the mandatory athlete briefing but even happier when he tapped me on the shoulder around mile 17 of the marathon. It was exciting to see a familiar face, and we struggled through the next few miles together.

Trey wrote his own race summary a few weeks ago and I can tell his victory here will inspire many others to push their own limits, whether through Ironman or another challenge.

Congratulations, Trey. It was an honor to race with you.

IM Story #3: With a Little Help

Dan took this pic! Check his stuff out at www.danielmweiss.com

Look at these fine folks. I really can't thank them enough for their support. I already mentioned my mom, but here's some fun facts about everyone else.

Monica and Dirk:

• Newlyweds
• Witnessed me running the wrong way out of transition
• Mon let me set up my bike trainer in her room so we could watch episodes of Girls
• Brought my bike back to the city from transition in New Jersey
• Rumor has it Dirk took a tri bike joyride on the way back from Jersey
• Designed sexy t-shirts with this on them:

Points if you can spot their nod to the sewage issues...

Jeremy and Giri:

• Two of the smartest people I know
• Along with Monica, tolerated my drying workout laundry in the living room
• Witnessed my grouchiest race moments in Riverside Park
• Kept me company for the final miles
• Took pictures at the end of the race and didn’t show me the bad ones

Vicky:

• Animal lover
• Hosted t-shirt making proceedings
• Sick on race day, still came all the way out to Jersey for transition
• Allowed use of her vehicle (named Tiger Shark) for transportation to one of my early races, the 2010 Mayflower Sprint

Anna:

• Badass psychiatrist
• Came all the way up from North Carolina; was at transition
• Within the first 24 hours of meeting, we realized we both ran and decided to go for a run, during which I sneakily had us running a minute faster per mile than either of us normally did
• Despite the above bullet point, we’re still friends!

Sunshine and Russ:

• Trained in Muay Thai kickassery
• At transition
• Along with Vicky, met me at the end of my 100 mile training ride to Montauk
• Nice enough to take me and my bike back home so I didn’t have to make it a 200 mile training ride to and from Montauk

Geri and Dan:

• First met them both at the 2011 Queens Half Marathon (Geri racing, Dan spectating) at the behest of our mutual friend Jared
• Over the 3-hour span of the race, Geri and I managed to talk about everything from chafing to relationships
• Geri accompanied me to the expo when I checked in for the race
• Geri and Dan both reassured (and partly terrified) me about things that could go wrong on the bike over dinner after the expo
• Dan took amazing race pictures including the one above

Here's Dan!

There’s also Jorge, who saw me at the top of Dyckman Hill (another one of my less cheerful moments) and whom I unfortunately missed at the finish; Michael, an accomplished triathlete who gave me all kinds of Ironman advice and saw me cross the finish line; Jared, whom you’ll hear about once or twice more. Also, just anyone who had to hear me gripe or talk too much about the race.

Many of these guys (Monica, Vicky, Sunshine, Anna, I'm looking at you) will be doing their first half marathon in 2013!

IM Story #2: A Running Legacy

I purchased my triathlon bike last November and I owe the decision to do so mostly to my father, who has been running since long before I was born. While he would do track workouts at Holmes High School in San Antonio, my brother, cousin and I would play in the middle of the oval. We were occasionally made to accompany him for a lap, something we were rarely happy about. He got me my first pair of running shoes (Air Max Triax) when I was 8.

This guy won a 1.5 mile race in 9:50 earlier this year

 He claims he's getting old but has continued to kick my butt in races.

IM Story #1: Ironmom

I got my mom a t-shirt that read “Ironmom” to wear during the race. This would still be true about my mom if I’d never mentioned a thing about Ironman. She is and has always been fiercely independent, able and willing to do pretty much all things that need to be done on her own. More than just for her support of my Ironman efforts, I owe her thanks for most everything I have and am today. All the things I could remember and write about to further emphasize this wouldn’t be enough. She came all the way from Texas to cheer me on!

Talk about stories. She has some great ones.

After I ran my first marathon, my mom said “Promise me this will be it!”

I broke my promise. Sorry, Mom!

Ironman Stories

Ironman, like life’s most poignant stories, is one comprised of a thousand more. Many thousands, even. All of them collide and intersect to make one great, beautiful – if sweat-drenched and stinky – story. Much like the marathon, this event is so powerful that it creates myriad new stories, which may be the most marvelous part.


Feel free to take my words with a grain of salt. I’m well aware that life is full of staggeringly beautiful tales that don’t require expensive bikes with aerobars. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned recently, it’s that the truest experiences are the ones we feel deeply.

I finally figured out how to do this, how to best express my Ironman. Over the next few days, I’ll write about some of the stories that gave my Ironman experience its emotional truth. They’re stories of the people who helped and inspired me, and to whom I owe the most thanks.