Story
ING New York City Marathon - Sunday 6th November 2005
Just as most things in America are big (but not necessarily beautiful!) the City's Marathon is no exception. From the sprawling Verrazano Bridge vibrating under the strain of 37,000 runners setting out on the 26.2 mile journey to the vibrant atmosphere of cheering New Yorkers lining every inch of the finishing stages in the blaze of colour that is Central Park, this race has to be one of the biggest marathons on the planet.
The course unites dozens of culturally and ethnically diverse neighbourhoods throughout New York City and takes the runner through the boroughs of Staten Island, Brooklyn, Queens, the Bronx and Manhattan. If I thought London was big then New York is nothing short of monumental with an incredible 2 million people lining the route (although I didn't count them!)
An early start, meeting fellow Team Macmillan runners for a group photo in the Milford Plaza Hotel (which must have been quite a challenge to the photographers who resembled the paparazzi with flashes going off from all directions) before walking (sorry hiking!) to the buses and joining the somewhat bizarre spectacle of a snake of runners patiently weaving their way to a cavalcade of Marathon buses shuttling back and forth through the early morning New York smog. Eventually after what seemed an eternity (with not just my fingers crossed!) and a quick disembarkation to urgently open a valve or two, along with a fair few others some of which were required to do a spot of un-wanted sprinting as their bus disappeared into the distance, we arrived at the start still shrouded in fog but very clearly a hive of activity. By the time we (fellow Macmillanite, Kate and Nick both from the UK, real characters and a source of much amusement calming pre-race nerves) had visited the baggage cars and waited for what seemed like eternity in the 'Rest Room' queue the start was a few minutes away and after a much needed leg stretch which got me somewhere near the pace-makers for 3 hours 50, the gun sounded and we marched towards the start line serenaded by the Star Spangled Banner, sung by a gospel choir - a very special moment. On to the Verrazano Narrows Bridge with it's huge parapets rising majestically out of the fog and I was amongst a multitude of multi-national runners from 100 different countries (Brazil, Norway, Denmark, Sweden, Holland, France, Belgium, Italy, Australia, Great Britain etc) and representatives from all 50 US States. Making their way up the steep in-cline of the bridge many were stopping to capture the spectacle some were even making a movie whilst running! Into Brooklyn and the first indications of the tremendous and equally cosmopolitan support which would line the route, the cheering only broken up by the sounds of numerous bands playing anything from rock music to reggae and gospel to garage. By mile 6 I was already more than conscious of the un-expected and un-seasonal temperatures although any negative thoughts were dispelled by a multitude of 'High-5's with the locals and the distinctive comment of 'Good jaaaab, Richard' which would become a feature of the route. A fairly flat and un-spectacular 6 miles through Brooklyn although what the route lacked in landmarks the enthused vocal supporters more than made up for. Into Williamsburg, the world centre of Hasidic Judaism (it says 'ere!) The 13.1 mile marker was a very welcome site although the incline over the Pulsaki Bridge paralleling the distinctive Manhattan skyline, less so. Into Queens with no let-up in the swathes of support and then on to the under-belly of the Queensboro Bridge along a 3,880 foot carpet that is rolled out to soften the bridge's grating (it says on the back of my t-shirt!) It was good to reach mile 15 although to say it was a hard slog running along the enclosed underneath of the massive bridge with the only 'scenery' being the huge structures girders which afforded fleeting glimpses of Manhattan and the Hudson and a few familiar sites from the previous days boat trip. A very welcome descent to hopefully the first sighting of the 'faithful following' encamped in a very vocal (and green!) vociferous Macmillan supporter section. Round the bend (steady now!) and the sighting of Splodge & Co (who I very enthusiastically greeted) injected renewed energy into my ever wearying limbs which sadly soon evaporated (like many other things on a very warm day) as my pace became noticeably slower making my way up what seemed to be an ever lengthening First Avenue. Miles 18 to 20 were survived still running with injections of jelly babies and Gator-ate (which would take it's toll later on) and then things became seriously hard work with numerous shouts of 'looking good Richard (I knew I wasn't), 'Way to go Richard' (I knew it was!), You're working well Richard (I was doing anything but) and 'Keep it going now Richard' (I wasn't) falling increasingly on deaf ears. On to the Willis Avenue Bridge, the Bronx and the 20-mile marker was reached providing a little encouragement but sadly this was short lived as a very pedestrian jog gave way to a walk which would be the pattern for miles 23 to 25, which finally took what by now were very weary runners into Central Park (which looked so much fresher than I felt!) Although the tidal wave of support from the masses which lined every inch of surely one of the most scenic parts of this sprawling city, could not have provided more encouragement, more than can be said for one local who passed me clearly un-impressed with my lack of bull-dog spirit, walking and not running. Passing mile 25 provided a catalyst to make my completely shot limbs make one last big effort which was short lived although they did come back to life for the last 400 yards, which seemed like 4 miles, despite the crescendo of noise and the tuneful bluesy-rock tones of the 100th band on the course which finally took me over the finish line in 3 hours 50 minutes & 41 seconds finishing in 6716th place (it said in the New York Times the next morning) To say it was a relief was a huge understatement although I was disappointed with my time, being a mere 1 hour 41 minutes and 11 seconds behind the winner Paul Tergat who beat last years winner Hendrick Ramaala by 1/3rd of a second in the closest New York Marathon finish ever as CBS Fox told us every 2 minutes the next morning! Having collected the medal and congratulated a fellow runner (from the States) it was down to the baggage cars but by now the last 26.2 miles (and too much Gator-ate) were taking their toll necessitating some very un-planned assistance from a medic and an unscheduled visit to the Medical Tent. Eventually after a lie down and spurred on by the cries of the injured, with the aid of a medic I got to my feet, which were surprisingly un-jelly like and made my way to collect my bag and try to seek out the 'Following Faithful', by now no doubt wondering what had happened to me. A very welcome re-union and even more welcome 'cuppa', although the M25 like people jam which was to follow was less popular as we and what seemed like the rest of New York made their way home. Although my performance was a bit like the US (well named!) phone system it had been an amazing experience taking part in what has to be the world's biggest marathon and my impressive medal and more importantly the fact that nearly £8,000 was safely raised for Macmillan Cancer Relief made it all very worthwhile.
Just as most things in America are big (but not necessarily beautiful!) the City's Marathon is no exception. From the sprawling Verrazano Bridge vibrating under the strain of 37,000 runners setting out on the 26.2 mile journey to the vibrant atmosphere of cheering New Yorkers lining every inch of the finishing stages in the blaze of colour that is Central Park, this race has to be one of the biggest marathons on the planet.
The course unites dozens of culturally and ethnically diverse neighbourhoods throughout New York City and takes the runner through the boroughs of Staten Island, Brooklyn, Queens, the Bronx and Manhattan. If I thought London was big then New York is nothing short of monumental with an incredible 2 million people lining the route (although I didn't count them!)
An early start, meeting fellow Team Macmillan runners for a group photo in the Milford Plaza Hotel (which must have been quite a challenge to the photographers who resembled the paparazzi with flashes going off from all directions) before walking (sorry hiking!) to the buses and joining the somewhat bizarre spectacle of a snake of runners patiently weaving their way to a cavalcade of Marathon buses shuttling back and forth through the early morning New York smog. Eventually after what seemed an eternity (with not just my fingers crossed!) and a quick disembarkation to urgently open a valve or two, along with a fair few others some of which were required to do a spot of un-wanted sprinting as their bus disappeared into the distance, we arrived at the start still shrouded in fog but very clearly a hive of activity. By the time we (fellow Macmillanite, Kate and Nick both from the UK, real characters and a source of much amusement calming pre-race nerves) had visited the baggage cars and waited for what seemed like eternity in the 'Rest Room' queue the start was a few minutes away and after a much needed leg stretch which got me somewhere near the pace-makers for 3 hours 50, the gun sounded and we marched towards the start line serenaded by the Star Spangled Banner, sung by a gospel choir - a very special moment. On to the Verrazano Narrows Bridge with it's huge parapets rising majestically out of the fog and I was amongst a multitude of multi-national runners from 100 different countries (Brazil, Norway, Denmark, Sweden, Holland, France, Belgium, Italy, Australia, Great Britain etc) and representatives from all 50 US States. Making their way up the steep in-cline of the bridge many were stopping to capture the spectacle some were even making a movie whilst running! Into Brooklyn and the first indications of the tremendous and equally cosmopolitan support which would line the route, the cheering only broken up by the sounds of numerous bands playing anything from rock music to reggae and gospel to garage. By mile 6 I was already more than conscious of the un-expected and un-seasonal temperatures although any negative thoughts were dispelled by a multitude of 'High-5's with the locals and the distinctive comment of 'Good jaaaab, Richard' which would become a feature of the route. A fairly flat and un-spectacular 6 miles through Brooklyn although what the route lacked in landmarks the enthused vocal supporters more than made up for. Into Williamsburg, the world centre of Hasidic Judaism (it says 'ere!) The 13.1 mile marker was a very welcome site although the incline over the Pulsaki Bridge paralleling the distinctive Manhattan skyline, less so. Into Queens with no let-up in the swathes of support and then on to the under-belly of the Queensboro Bridge along a 3,880 foot carpet that is rolled out to soften the bridge's grating (it says on the back of my t-shirt!) It was good to reach mile 15 although to say it was a hard slog running along the enclosed underneath of the massive bridge with the only 'scenery' being the huge structures girders which afforded fleeting glimpses of Manhattan and the Hudson and a few familiar sites from the previous days boat trip. A very welcome descent to hopefully the first sighting of the 'faithful following' encamped in a very vocal (and green!) vociferous Macmillan supporter section. Round the bend (steady now!) and the sighting of Splodge & Co (who I very enthusiastically greeted) injected renewed energy into my ever wearying limbs which sadly soon evaporated (like many other things on a very warm day) as my pace became noticeably slower making my way up what seemed to be an ever lengthening First Avenue. Miles 18 to 20 were survived still running with injections of jelly babies and Gator-ate (which would take it's toll later on) and then things became seriously hard work with numerous shouts of 'looking good Richard (I knew I wasn't), 'Way to go Richard' (I knew it was!), You're working well Richard (I was doing anything but) and 'Keep it going now Richard' (I wasn't) falling increasingly on deaf ears. On to the Willis Avenue Bridge, the Bronx and the 20-mile marker was reached providing a little encouragement but sadly this was short lived as a very pedestrian jog gave way to a walk which would be the pattern for miles 23 to 25, which finally took what by now were very weary runners into Central Park (which looked so much fresher than I felt!) Although the tidal wave of support from the masses which lined every inch of surely one of the most scenic parts of this sprawling city, could not have provided more encouragement, more than can be said for one local who passed me clearly un-impressed with my lack of bull-dog spirit, walking and not running. Passing mile 25 provided a catalyst to make my completely shot limbs make one last big effort which was short lived although they did come back to life for the last 400 yards, which seemed like 4 miles, despite the crescendo of noise and the tuneful bluesy-rock tones of the 100th band on the course which finally took me over the finish line in 3 hours 50 minutes & 41 seconds finishing in 6716th place (it said in the New York Times the next morning) To say it was a relief was a huge understatement although I was disappointed with my time, being a mere 1 hour 41 minutes and 11 seconds behind the winner Paul Tergat who beat last years winner Hendrick Ramaala by 1/3rd of a second in the closest New York Marathon finish ever as CBS Fox told us every 2 minutes the next morning! Having collected the medal and congratulated a fellow runner (from the States) it was down to the baggage cars but by now the last 26.2 miles (and too much Gator-ate) were taking their toll necessitating some very un-planned assistance from a medic and an unscheduled visit to the Medical Tent. Eventually after a lie down and spurred on by the cries of the injured, with the aid of a medic I got to my feet, which were surprisingly un-jelly like and made my way to collect my bag and try to seek out the 'Following Faithful', by now no doubt wondering what had happened to me. A very welcome re-union and even more welcome 'cuppa', although the M25 like people jam which was to follow was less popular as we and what seemed like the rest of New York made their way home. Although my performance was a bit like the US (well named!) phone system it had been an amazing experience taking part in what has to be the world's biggest marathon and my impressive medal and more importantly the fact that nearly £8,000 was safely raised for Macmillan Cancer Relief made it all very worthwhile.