Running: New York Marathon Report / The Hat Looks Great!

Wednesday, November 21, 2007 - 07:22 PM

That's Jay on the right with the my next race.com hat and gloves!

This was actually my fifth time running the New York City Marathon, but eight long years since the last time I had done so. I've gotten a lot more serious about
running since then, and hence have improved a lot - my previous PB on that course
was 3:29:46. Moreover, my last NYC Marathon was a particularly painful experience.
Just two weeks prior to that race, I had torn my IT band while raking leaves - a far
more dangerous and injury-prone activity than running, in my experience! I managed
not to stop, or even walk, at any point during that race, but averaged close to
5:00/km over the last 20 miles while enduring exquisite pain every time my right
foot hit the pavement. As a parting gift for my stubbornness in completing that
race, I was unable to run a step for the next five months.


All of which is to say, I was coming to the 2007 with a very different set of
objectives. I had hoped to finally break through the elusive 2:30 barrier at the
Toronto Waterfront Marathon back in September, but I just didn't have it that day (more on that later), so I chose to shut it down and try again in a later fall
marathon. Initially, I targeted the Philadelphia Marathon, until I discovered that
it wasn't too late for me to secure a last-minute entry to New York. I realized that
the more difficult, hilly course in New York would probably cost me a few extra
minutes, but I decided this was tempered by the extraordinary crowd support and
depth of field in New York, meaning that I would never find myself running
completely alone, which I seem to be particularly inept at.



About three weeks before New York, I contracted a chest cold. I wasn't especially
concerned at the time, as I figured I ought to be starting my taper anyway, and I
still had plenty of time to recover fully for the marathon. However, a week later, I
still found myself struggling to do a workout that had seemed effortless a couple of
weeks earlier. Five days before the marathon, I was unable to sustain my goal race
pace for even three miles before starting to struggle. Hence, I took it especially
easy in the days leading up to the marathon, hoping that the cold symptoms (fatigue
and congestion in my sinuses and lungs) would subside. On Saturday morning, I
briefly visited Central Park to see the U.S. Olympic Trials participants pass the 5 km and 7 mile marks. I watched the rest of the race on the internet, spent less than 10 minutes at the runner's expo, and generally took it easy and stayed off my feet that day.

Race morning. 5:50 a.m. I wake up to the sound of not one but TWO alarm clocks (I
didn't come all the way to New York just to reenact the punch line to an old
Seinfeld episode). I actually got an extra hour of sleep by virtue of Daylight
Savings Time, which had taken effect just a few hours earlier. Thanks to my friends
Bob and Carolyn, with whom I was staying, I was able to enjoy my traditional
pre-race meal: a heaping bowl of Cheerios, supplemented by a sliced banana and a
generous helping of 2% milk. The cab which was scheduled to transport me to the
Hilton in midtown Manhattan arrived promptly at 6:15 a.m. By 6:30, I was at the
Hilton.

In 2004, the NYC Marathon introduced a sub-elite program for male participants
expecting to run between 2:20-2:35. It was subsequently expanded to include women in
the 2:55-3:05 range. Sub-elite runners are given transportation to the start of the
race an hour after the rest of the field has to get there, on a couple of buses with
a police escort. Also, sub-elites are provided with access to a heated indoor tent
for the couple of hours before the race begins. None of the other 37,000 or so
runners had access to any sort of indoor facility (other than the portable toilets).
I was lucky enough to be accepted into the sub-elite program, which meant that for
the first time in five NYC marathons, I wouldn't be among the shivering masses,
struggling to stay warm for several hours on the perpetually-windy Staten Island.

I had hoped, perhaps somewhat naively, that the elites and sub-elites would travel
together on the same buses, and hence, I might have the chance to sit beside and
chat with some of the luminaries of the running world, such as Olympic gold medalist
Stefano Baldini or world record holder Paula Radcliffe. Alas, I soon discovered that
they would be placed on separate buses, quickly ending my dream of a close personal
encounter with running greatness. Sitting inside the first of two sub-elite buses, I
saw my friend Paul Kemp walk up to the bus with his buddy, former Olympian and
world-class middle distance runner Graham Hood. However, they were directed to the
other sub-elite bus.

I assumed that Paul had a similarly uneventful, hour-long bus ride to Staten Island.
It was only when I met up with him at our destination that I learned that the other
sub-elite bus had been full, so they had been placed in the elite women's bus. Who
should then sit down beside Mr. Kemp but the aforementioned Ms. Radcliffe. They
proceeded to have an animated conversation over the next hour. I was so jealous!
Paul claims that Paula spent much of the time talking about her nine-month-old
daughter, but I'm convinced she actually revealed all of her training secrets to
Paul, such that I fully expect him to go out and run his next marathon in 2:15:25!

Everything in the sub-elite area was just a bit nicer than what was offered to the
masses, from the food and drink, to the portable toilets. I had never even heard of
a port-a-potty that had a sink with running water, and a toilet with flushing
capabilities. This was quite a step up from the "world's longest urinal", which I
had been relegated to using in previous NYC Marathons.

The elite runners were housed in a tent immediately adjacent to the sub-elites, so
we did catch occasional glimpses of big names such as Kara Goucher and Kim Smith
(neither of whom were running the marathon, but I suspect they rode in the in the
pace car for the elite women). Paula warmly greeted Paul while she was waiting for a
final visit to the facilities (which, as you might imagine, made quite an impression
on the other sub-elites). Unfortunately, she was summoned to the start line before
he could facilitate a proper introduction.

I did catch a brief glimpse of Lance Armstrong, who pulled up with his entourage in
a phalanx of "Live Strong"-branded SUVs, shortly before the race began. Evidently,
he had no interest in mingling with the riff-raff. Ditto for Katie Holmes.

Finally, it was time to make the long walk onto the bridge. While doing some strides
on the bridge, I could feel nature calling once more. Hence, I had no choice but to
do my business over the side of the bridge. As I did so, I could only hope that the
wind didn't suddenly shift directions, lest I find myself basking in a golden shower
of my own making. Fortunately, the wind cooperated.

I proceeded to the edge of the timing mat behind the start line. The elite men were
starting on the other side of the bridge, so I was able to take a starting position
in the very first row. Quite a contrast to my first NYC marathon, when it took me
almost ten minutes to reach the start line after the race had officially started!

Paul and I both hoped to hit the half in slightly under 1:15, but I still wasn't
feeling 100%. Therefore, I was going to play it by ear, and was fully prepared to
slow down the pace as much as was necessary to ensure that I didn't "hit the wall"
at the 10 mile mark, as I did in Toronto.

The race begins with a two mile stretch across the Verrazano-Narrows bridge. The
first mile is uphill, so I didn't panic when I got there in 6:02. The second mile is
largely downhill, and hence was considerably faster, at 5:29. By the time we got off
the bridge, Paul and I were in a pack of 10 or 11 guys who were on 2:30 pace. The
pack stayed relatively intact until about the eight mile mark, when a long, gradual
uphill caused several of us, including Paul and I, to drop back.

This was not the first time that Paul and I had raced head-to-head this year (we had
previously finished within seconds of each other at both the Sporting Life 10K and
the Midsummer Night's 30K), but this was by far our most dramatic and unpredictable
encounter, with more lead changes than Federer vs. Nadal a court that's half-grass,
half-clay. Paul first pulled ahead at the 9 mile mark, though I closed the gap to
less than 10 seconds over the next mile. He got about 30 seconds ahead over the next two miles, but I could see that he was slowing down a lot after passing the halfway mark in slightly over 1:15:00. I caught up to him less than a minute later. "What's wrong?", I asked. "I just don't have it today," he said, as I started to pull away.

I figured this would be the last I'd see of him during the race. I couldn't have
been more wrong.

At mile 15, I began a long ascent along the first half of the Queensboro Bridge. I
reached into my pocket for another Cliff Shot. As I struggled to remove the paper clip that was keeping the goo from seeping out of the package, it slipped out of my hand and onto the side of the bridge. I wasn't about to stop and pick it up, so I
figured I'd make up for it by taking one of the gels they'd be giving out a few
miles later.

Meanwhile, I could now hear a very distinctive nose blowing ritual by the runner
immediately behind me. I didn't even have to look back to know that Paul had gotten
a second wind and caught up to me. This may have inspired me to pick up the pace a
bit, but shortly after we hit First Avenue, Paul caught me again and soon started to
pull away. Not long thereafter, Graham also went hurtling past me at what seemed
like sub-5:00/mile pace (without even breaking a sweat), offering me a few words of
encouragement.

It was also around this point when I was passed by someone wearing a Toronto Olympic Club jersey, whom I subsequently determined to be Rory Gilfillan - a member of TOC's satellite training group (of one?) in Peterborough.

Upon hitting the Bronx around the 20 mile mark, I could once again see Paul ahead of
me. I wasn't gaining rapidly on him; however, I was making up the deficit, slowly
but surely. By the time I crossed over the Madison Bridge back into Manhattan (where
a friendly spectator said to me, "Thanks for visiting the Bronx! Please come
again."), the gap was less than 30 seconds. As I made my way through Harlem and
towards Central Park, I was starting to reel in guys who had hit the wall even
harder than I had. Shortly before entering the park, I caught up to and passed Paul
once again. He looked to really be hurting at this point. These next few miles would
not be fun.

The nasty hills of Central Park still laid ahead, and while I didn't feel completely
wasted, nor was I about to start prematurely celebrating and fist-pumping, Ryan
Hall-style. I did manage to hold together a credible pace over the last couple of
miles (at least relative to the preceding five miles; see splits below), and passed
several others along the way. If I had a dollar for every enthusiastic spectator who
yelled "Go Toronto Track!" (in reference to the singlet I was wearing), I probably
could have paid for a very nice suite at the Plaza Hotel!

Upon crossing the finish line, I was somewhat surprised to find myself face-to-face
with NBC Sports anchor Al Trautwig, a.k.a. The Voice of God (with apologies to God
and James Earl Jones). "What was your finishing time?" asked Al in his impossibly
deep baritone voice, microphone in hand and camera operator at his side. "Just over
2:39", I told him. Suddenly, it dawned on me that the only reason he could possibly
be interested in my time was that Lance wasn't far behind, and Al was wondering how
much longer he'd be waiting until Lance got there.

My sub-elite status got me a spot in the "professional athletes" tent, just a
stone's throw from the finish line. Most of the genuine elites had enough time to
shower, change and were probably napping in their hotel rooms by the time I got to
the tent, so there would be no more international celebrity encounters. Graham was
there, and I recognized another Canadian Olympian, Bruce Deacon, who had run 2:24.

Not bad for a guy who claimed to have retired from marathoning a couple of years
ago! Paul arrived a few minutes later. After taking in some Gatorade and putting on
some dry clothes, we began the slow, painful walk to our respective destinations.

While I was extremely disappointed with my finishing time (2:39:03), I did feel that
I battled hard and gave everything I had to give on that particular day. I've
determined that my primary limiting factor was likely a chronic lack of sleep -
usually less than six hours per night for the better part of the last year. For a
while, it didn't seem to adversely affect my training, but it finally caught up to
me in the last couple of months. Therefore, I plan to make a concerted effort to get
more sleep in the months leading up to my next marathon attempt, when I hope to
FINALLY break through the 2:30 barrier.


Jay

ed note - Jay Brecher trains with the Toronto Track Team, the Yonge Street Running Room group and is a founding member of the Sunday morning "stare at the hotties thru the Starbuck's window" run club social group..