2011 New York City Marathon

18. New York City Marathon – New York, N.Y. – Nov. 6, 2011

Runners have to share the
Verrazano-Narrows Bridge with
a few (thousand) close friends.

There are marathons, and then there’s New York. For many marathoners, Boston is a goal. But New York City is still the king.

Every year, 43,000 and change converge on Staten Island for the start of the New York City Marathon. That’s a lot of people, but it’s nothing compared to the estimated two million fans who line the course. Do you know what West Virginia, Nebraska, Idaho, Hawaii, Maine, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, Montana, Delaware, South Dakota, Alaska, North Dakota, Vermont and Wyoming have in common? They all have a population with less people than the New York Marathon has spectators. In fact, if you got everyone who lives in Wyoming, Vermont and North Dakota together, you’d still need another 121,479 to reach two million. You get the idea. The people of Gotham get into the spirit of the marathon better than any place on earth.

I’d heard horror stories about how early you have to arrive at the starting line. I’m one of those people that would prefer to show up with just enough time to hit the head and get to the corral 10-15 minutes before the gun. People had told me about freezing for hours while they waited. And waited. Fortunately, my friends Marc Middlekauf and Theresa Allen also heard about a running club from Atlanta that charters a bus every year. I shot an e-mail to Lane Young to see if they had extra seats, and he told us to be at the Plaza Hotel at 6:15 a.m. sharp and to bring $20. The bus drove us to Staten Island and parked two blocks from the starting line. Best of all, it was there as long as people wanted to stay on board, which meant we had a warm place to wait that also happened to have a bathroom on board. On top of that, Lane and the rest of the people with the Atlanta running club kept us company with great conversation. It may have been the best $20 I’ve ever spent.

A few of us walked over to the start, where I was surprised to find reasonable lines at the port-a-johns, and then we were ushered through the corrals to the start. A race of this size takes unbelievable organization, and the New York Roadrunners Club does a phenomenal job of making everything run as smoothly as possible. I was in the first wave, so from a few hundred yards I watched the elite runners start. It’s almost cliché by this point, but one of the coolest aspects of marathons like New York is that you get to run the same race as some of the best runners in the world. If you’re in the New York City Marathon, the winner is competing against you, regardless of how fast or slow you’re running. While they get a head start, the bottom line is that they still have to beat you and the other 43,000 people in order to win. You can’t play in the Super Bowl or World Series, but anyone can run in the New York City Marathon.

As we crossed the timing mat at the starting line, Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” is blaring from the nearby speakers. I’ve heard a bunch of songs that race directors use to fire up the runners at the start of their races, but nothing has gotten my blood pumping like Frank. The race goes through all five boroughs, although it only stays in Staten Island for a few feet before crossing the Verazzo-Narrows Bridge. Both sides of the bridge, top and bottom, are packed with runners. I took a quick glance back as I reached the peak, and the site is breathtaking. There are just so many runners. I’ve mentioned how much I like smaller races, but every runner should experience New York at least once. It’s not necessarily easy to get in. Only about one-out-of-three people who register for the lottery get in. I got guaranteed entry because I’d entered the lottery in each of the three previous years but had not gotten in. And it’s definitely the most expensive race I’ve ever run, even before travel costs.

The crowd in NYC is at least 4-5 deep
at nearly every point in the race. 

Miles 2-13 are in Brooklyn. Williamsburg may be the strangest area I’ve ever run through. It’s a Hasidic Jewish neighborhood, and it’s almost completely silent. There are people lining the course, but they just stand and watch. There’s no cheering and no talking. In a race with this many fans, this 2-3 mile stretch is kind of cool.

With half the race completed, we finally crossed the Pulaski Bridge and entered Queens. We weren’t there long, only a couple of miles. At one point, I stopped mid-stride when I noticed something on the ground. Normally, I’d let it go, but I spotted a $20 bill on the ground, and that seemed worth a few extra seconds. As it turned out, there was a credit card along with a couple of bills. I tossed the credit card to a policeman and pocketed the cash. With more than two million people around (not to mention several million more in the city), I figured I wasn’t going to find the person to give the money back to.

Feeling a little richer, I made the climb up the Queensboro Bridge, which gives an amazing view of the NYC skyline. I saw someone in a New Zealand shirt and ran with him for a few minutes, talking about the country where I studied abroad during high school. This race has runners from just about everywhere, and I always enjoy talking to a Kiwi. I lost him as we made the turn into Manhattan. This is one of the legendary spots in marathon running. The crowd is five deep and the noise was deafening along First Avenue. I had been feeling pretty good, but suddenly I had a pain in my right hip. It was nagging at first, but after a few more miles it was fairly excruciating. I was out to enjoy this race instead of going for a PR, but I still wanted to make a good showing. In the midst of the biggest crowd on the course, I gave in and started walking. It’s frustrating and a little embarrassing, especially in front of all those people who are trying to urge you on, but my hip was affecting my stride, and that’s what causes injuries. It was a struggle the rest of the way.

I guess the marathon takes a little longer than the average
shift in hockey. Glad I finished ahead of former Ranger
& Stanley Cup champion Mark Messier.

The crowd is sparse in the Bronx, but that’s only a couple of miles before returning to Manhattan for the final five miles. The east side of Central Park was really a struggle for me, as every step shot a stinging pain through my hip and into just about every part of my body. The final two miles is inside the park, and the crowd is great. I ran as much as I could, and when I hit the south end of the park I knew I could gut through the final half mile or so, thanks to the energy of the crowd. I crossed the finish at 4:11, which was pretty good and apparently beat former Rangers great Mark Messier by a few minutes. The one complaint I had heard was how far you have to walk after the finish, and as the volunteers kept waving me on I understood the pain (and I do mean pain). I walked nearly a mile before reaching the end of the bag claim trucks. Mine wasn’t there, and another volunteer said, “Oh, you were supposed to turn on the first street after the finish.” Great. I had to walk all the way back. (Note: Today the race director announced that they got rid of bag check due to the complaints about congestion at the finish area. I don't think I would sign up for a race that didn't allow me to stow a dry shirt and other essentials for after I finished. So this may have been my one and only New York Marathon experience.) But I finally got my bag and found my way to a Shake Shack, where some very kind people let me cut in line at both the counter and the restroom. My wobbly legs were very grateful. 

That night, I got to spend time with Megan Maciejowski, a great friend from college, who also ran her third New York City Marathon. I wish I could have stayed another couple of days, but college basketball season was about to start.

I had to get back to Denver. And reality.