Discover Top Posts Tagged with #nycinstarunners

Feeling like a hairy #Bane with my #trainingmask. It was quarter mile on. Quarter mile off. Yeah,it's like that. #nikeplus #adidas #asics #ihaterunning #bose #oakley #autismdad #atypicalfamilia #nyrr #nycinstarunners

#atypicalfamilia #adidas #nycinstarunners #ihaterunning #nyrr #oakley #asics #bane #trainingmask #autismdad #bose #nikeplus

5 boroughs, 1 goal - NYC MARATHON 'blew' my mind

It’s hard to begin this post knowing it will be my last entry into this blog. Setting out to do these 4 marathons I never imagined how hard it would be. I only had the knowledge of what I had read from others’ accounts and the little I brought to the table, having run no further than a half marathon. Yet I dove in head first, and tackled each as they came. Once I tasted the agony I wanted no more, but once I sipped from the cup of victory I was hooked. So one became two, and two became three, and on the morning of November 2, I woke up to finish what I had started and complete number 4. The weather reports leading up to the big day were all over the place. From temps in the 70’s, to rain and wind, to one even reporting a chance of flurries. Apart from bracing myself for Miami’s heat, I never really factored in weather conditions as I prepared physically and mentally for these races. The eve before the marathon is when I paid closer attention to the forecasts. Unanimously they called for windy conditions. 30 mph gusts! Ok, but will it rain? Is it going to be cold? 30 mph gusts! Yeah, and? 30 mph gusts! OK ENOUGH! What’s the big deal? Go fly a kite, Lord knows there’ll be enough wind for it. I dismissed it. Not entirely though. In my mind, windy meant bundle up. And that I did. I got to my corral in good time, not too early not too late. I had my race clothes under some old sweat pants and a hoodie that’s better days were way behind it. I even had my heat wrap from the Pittsburgh marathon. Not only is it functional, but it says to the other runners, “Hey, show some respect! This guy has done this before!” Everyone was in their own heads, bouncing around to keep warm, it was an eerie feeling. The chopper above drowned out any conversations that were being had, but was no match for the lady singing God Bless America. There was a boom of the canon and we were off. 30 mph gusts! Not this again? Why is everyone making such a big deal about the………OH!! I had unzipped my hoodie before crossing the start line and as I ascended the Verrazano Bridge I frantically tried to re-zip it before my bib ripped from shirt. People were moving backwards, sideways, being tossed about. We bumped into each other like rods from a wind chime. Articles of clothing earlier discarded swirled about and over the side and up into the atmosphere. Nothing even fell to the waters below, it was that windy. I tried not to fight it and just kept a comfortable pace. There was relief on the other side I’d hoped. Once in Brooklyn the winds were less brutal, yet ever-present. I was running with no visible GPS so I had to rely on feel and mile markers to asses my progress. All I kept thinking was that I wanted it to feel easy, and for the time being it did. I got to mile 9 and saw my friend that planted the whole marathon seed, Krista. She was screaming so loud and waving our Jamaican flag, I could’t miss it. I feel guilty for not stopping, but it was too early to slow down. I basically crashed into her in some sort of high fivish, huggish, shovish manner and kept it moving.

4th Avenue felt never ending but the crowds were in full force. I high fived spectators as I ran by and gave a wave and a smile to anyone that yelled San Francisco. Yeah the Pittsburgh heat wrap wasn’t my only badge of honor. I was wearing my San Francisco marathon shirt for this race. Since I forgot to add my name I just had to remember it was me that they were talking about whenever I heard it. The next person I saw was my friend, and short term swim coach, Joy. I kind of surprised her, but honestly I was just running along and it was her that surprised me. She got a few photos but I didn’t stop then either because I was still in that zone. It wasn’t until I was nearing, and going over, the Pulaski Bridge that I started to feel like it was taking more effort to keep pace. I backed it off a bit and thought let me save some for Queensboro. Somewhere along the way I hear Jomak yelled in the distance, but I couldn’t tell who said it. I later learned it was Kris, sorry Kris. I’ve ridden over the Q’boro quite a few times and ran across 2 or 3 times. But I’ve never done it on tired legs. I let myself slow down as I hit the crest I tried to pick it up again. I realize gravity was assisting more than I thought and as soon as we leveled off onto 1st Ave, it began. The roar of the crowds was now my driving force but I could feel my energy getting low. No worries. I had taken it easy for long enough, and who said this was supposed to be easy anyway? I went into another gear and kept my wheels turning. Not to get too technical on you guys, but gearing is often erroneously associated with speed. Gearing is more about effort. In this case, I picked up my effort simply to try to maintain my speed but it didn’t exactly work. It was a flat section of the course so maybe I could just cruise along and enjoy the atmosphere. By now I had forgotten about the wind, or simply gotten so used to it. I stopped at an aid station to hydrate and someone yells my name, I look up and standing right in front of me is Shakirah. I’ve never met her in person but we ran Pittsburgh ‘together’ and have been in the same social media circle since. She gave me a hug and huge smile and that was the boost I needed to make it further down 1st Ave. Man 1st Ave is long, am I in the 100s yet? 80’s? NO!! It was along 1st Ave that the feelings of wanting it to be over started entering my mind. I had to fight them. In the past they have signaled that I was about to hit the wall. I hit it twice before, save for San Francisco where I ran for fun vs time, and was trying my utmost best not to fall victim again. Somewhere around 116th Street I saw Lizz. I must have been in some distress because what I thought was a smile and expression of glee, was interpreted as anger. I gave her the biggest hug, and though I may not have been able to project it outwards, my soul was smiling ear to ear.

thank you Roberta!!

Finally, I get to the Bronx and the DJ was jamming. Be-fittingly he was playing Empire State and I bopped and mouthed the lyrics as I ran along Alexander. When I got to the aid station there I was mobbed by the Latinas in Motion. These ladies are truly an inspirational group and I love their spirit. What does every runner need around mile 20? A group hug! It was the warmest I had felt all day and it was literally painful to leave them. But I trod on. I was expecting to see the nyinstarunners next but that expectation was interrupted when I saw Sachi standing there, all by her lonesome. I thought it was a mirage. I wasn’t expecting anyone else until mile 21 in Harlem. The closer I got the more sure I was that she was real and when I went over to her I gave her a hug and a smile. Again, I don’t know if my face showed my gratitude, but I was just beside myself that she was there cheering me on. It got me pumped and I said to myself I was going to hit Harlem with determination and grit. My quads had been on fire for some time now and every step was beginning to hurt. I never saw the nyinstarunners but judging from all the pictures they were out there somewhere. My mind was going. I had no idea at this point what pace I was running at, I just knew I was still moving. Maybe I put in enough in the early goings to cruise in for a good time. I really wanted to PR this race. I knew once I felt the wind that it was not going to happen but I still wanted to finish strong. I dug as deep as I could. Maybe there was one more level to dig into, but I reconciled with myself right here on 5th that finishing period is all I was trying to do. I never quit. Through the pain, and fatigue, and wind, I kept my feet moving. My pace was way down but I kept forcing myself to look up and keep my chest open. The last 2 miles were excruciating. My legs were on fire and every step sent jolts up my thigh. The crowds in the park were so deafening. I had said my prayers along the way but things were shutting down. By the grace of God I was able to still complete my 4th marathon in under 4 hours with a time of 3:54:11. Way short of what I wanted to do, but this journey has taken so much out of me. I stumbled through the finish area making my way gingerly to collect my medal, fully prepared to grab and go. As I made my way forward I made eye contact with one of the volunteers handing out medals. I didn’t quite recoginze her but she pointed at me and smiled. I cut past everyone and shot over to her. She placed the medal around my neck and I gave her the tightest hug. It was the relief that I’d been in search of since mile 16. I don’t think Roberta was expecting me to hug her so long. It was time to let go and I pried myself off her and went on to exit the park. Hats off to ALL the volunteers that day. They braved all the same conditions we did. I want to again thank everyone that helped make my 4 for 40 journey possible. Especially my family. They had to put up with my constant training for over a year. I want to thank all the people that I’ve done runs with and who have helped and inspired me to keep on going. I wanted to do 4 marathons to celebrate turning 40, and I did. I have learned so much about myself and others through it all. The journey has come to an end and now it’s time to conjure up a new goal.