Race day dawned cool and cloudy, nearly perfect weather for running. Walking through Battery Park at 7:00 a.m. on Sunday, groups of runners hovered together like cluster flies -- the Team In Training purple-shirted runner, the UVM College of Medicine yellow-shirted runners, scores of individuals looking for a few minutes of peace, plenty more looking to pump each other up for the start.
Earlier in the weekend, I spent a few hours volunteering at the Sports & Fitness Expo, handing out t-shirts to some of these runners and feeding off their excitement and nerves. I also spent some quality time with Beth and Heidi shopping at the Expo, where we discovered the curious display of pink Glide. (I can report it works no differently than regular Glide.)
I stayed home on Saturday and skipped the hoopla of the Expo speakers, movies, and crowds of runners. I considered going to watch (heckle) Jess Cover as she gave the course overview presentation, but yard work won the day. As with all things marathon, there's always next year...
Ok, so race day: I ran a little more than 12 miles on a relay team, Legs 2 & 3. My leg started near Battery Park and headed out the Beltline, which some people find dismal and stultifying, but I appreciate its calmness and pretty views (if you look up from the highway you're running on). The best part of the Beltline is that all the runners pass each other coming and going on the out-and-back loop. The fastest of the fast, the hoards of fit competitors, the throngs of determined turtles, and those few improbably slow souls who make the decision to keep plugging away, mile after mile.
I left the relay exchange zone going faster than I normally run -- about 10:00 pace. I had no expectations of myself except to finish the distance, and my speed wasn't something I'd given much thought to. I figured after one fast mile I'd lose my breath and settle into a pace that's more in line with the nearly non-existent training I'd done, about 11:30. But a few miles into the run, I was holding a strong pace and stayed with it. (Amusing Beltline moment: I heard a runner saying, "that's an expensive mistake." I looked up and saw another runner ahead wearing full tights and thought, 'ok it's too warm for that, but I wouldn't call it an "expensive mistake.' Then I looked straight up and realized she was talking about the massive hot air balloon deflated and wrapped around a light pole. Nice work.)
Coming up the hill on the Beltline was tough, but getting to the top and coasting on flat ground is sweet relief. As I got to the relay exchange just before Mile 9, the course volunteers were ushering me in my relay bib toward the exchange zone, and I kept motioning that was running through to the next leg. Last year at this exact point, I was trying to get off the course, and the volunteers were trying to get me and and my marathon bib to keep going.
I rounded the corners and headed to Church Street, halfway through with my mileage for the day. Church Street erupted with crowds cheering maniacally, and runners cruising the nice downhill slope. Coming through the water stop at the bottom of Church, I stopped at Chapstick Corner to say hi my friends, eat a Gu and apply some lip gloss. At this point, my pace was averaging 10:45 but I was getting fatigued. I used the long, gradual downhill of Pine Street as best I could, but I was spent byt the time I hit the South End. I decided to keep running, even at a slow jog, till I got to the hill at South Cove, and then I'd let myself walk up the short steep hill to Oakledge.
From the beginning of the bike path at Oakledge Park, it was just 2 miles and the long steep Battery Hill between me and Cate, who would take the coveted relay bracelet and head up North Ave. Those weren't "successful" miles, but I felt pretty good about myself: I had run way harder, way longer than I expected I could, and mentally it was the best run I'd had since before the Montreal marathon last fall. The race atmosphere made a huge difference, and so did the lack of pressure of being on relay team with runners who didn't particularly care about time.
Batter Hill: good lord. I walked a little bit on the bike path knowing that I wanted to have the energy to run (not walk) the entire hill. The Taiko drummers did their job in raising a huge amount of energy from the runners and the crowd. I slogged up Battery, happy to see friends along the way: Maria and her dad, Nadine, who jumped in and ran the hill with me, KP and Justin, and finally at the top (hallelujah!) Amy and Amber. You all rock for coming out to the race!
A few quick yards from the top of the hill into Battery Park and I was done! Cate was ready and waiting an took off down North Ave, reporting later that her 5 miles were full of great vibes from spectators.
The group of us (minus Cate) headed down to the bike path to cheer in the runners who were finishing. If you've never done this, I highly recommend it. I was yelling and cheering like mad, and lying through my teeth for the most part. "You look AWESOME!" Smooth and steady, you look great!" "Just yards to go, not miles!" One of my friends asked me if it really helps to hear things like that around mile 25.5. Yes. The answer is yes. It doesn't matter if it's truthful, it only matters that you are convincing and keep the runners motivated, even for a few steps. (Shortly after another round of "You're a rock star!" a woman running by half-laughed, half-whispered, "Oh, God bless you.")
Around 1 p.m., I was sitting in the shade with Amy and Amber and thousands of others in Waterfront Park and I thought, I need a massage right now. Luckily, I save phone numbers like mad, and I made a appointment for 2 p.m. Just a long slog up to a downtown garage and quick drive stood between me and guaranteed recovery.
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