Empire State of Mind: 2013 ING NYC Marathon (Finally!)

Today, I can finally say, that I have run the ING NYC Marathon.  What a crazy journey it was just to get to the starting line. 

The NYC Marathon is the largest marathon in the world.  For those that don't know, it's incredibly difficult to get into the race.  A runner can qualify by running an insanely fast (think sub-3 hour) marathon, get in through the general lottery, or raise an insane amount of money (think $5000) as a charity runner.  In late April 2012, I found out that I had won a general lottery entry into the 2012 ING NYC Marathon.  I'm not so sure if that was my lucky day or not...  Superstorm Sandy struck NYC about 5 days before the 2012 marathon.  As a result, the race ended up being cancelled.  I was heartbroken.  Thankfully, the New York Road Runners (NYRR) gave all participants the option of returning in 2013. 

Ready to kick some asphalt!

In January 2013, I was able to confirm that I was going to be a participant in the 2013 ING New York City Marathon.  The crazy journey to the starting line continues.  About a month before race day, I received a jury summons for November 4, the day after the race.  I immediately contacted the county, and thankfully, after two hours of anxiety, the county clerk informed me that they had deferred my jury duty for 8 weeks.  Pfew!  Oh, no.  I wasn't in the clear yet - then came the federal shutdown in October.  The staging area for the race is in Fort Wadsworth - which had been closed since it was federal property.  The NYRR indicated they were working on a contingency plan in case the shutdown hadn't lifted in time for the race.  I agonized for days over the shutdown.  I was so worried that something would ruin the race for the second year in a row.  The shutdown lifted two weeks before the race.  In the next two weeks, I was a paranoid, hypochondriac, germophobe. 

Finally November 3, 2013, arrived!  I wasn't sick.  I wasn't injured.   I had the good news that I was in the 2nd wave start at 10:05 a.m.  I was a little tired from walking about 10 miles around NYC the Friday and Saturday before race day, but overall I was feeling great and in good spirits. 

I woke up on race day at 4:00 a.m. so I could get ready in time to catch my 5:30 a.m. bus to the starting line from the New York Public Library.  Temperatures were in the lower 40s, so I put on my regular running clothes (a running skirt, compression sleeves, arm warmers, short sleeve shirt, running hat and winter headband).  Then I covered with a long sleeve running shirt as a throwaway.  Next I added a hoodie throwaway sweatshirt and fleece throwaway pants.  I packed my race back with a mylar blanket, gloves, hand warmers, and trash bags plus a Runner's World and breakfast and a snack.  Then my boyfriend (Galen) headed out with me to walk the mile to the New York City Public Library to catch my 5:30 bus.

I was glad he escorted me the mile to the bus.  There were some really unique people out at that hour.  Who knew they still sell falafel (feel awful?) at all hours?  It was amazing to see that the gift shops were still open.  NYC really is the city that never sleeps!

Heading to the 5:30 a.m. bus

The bus to the start was incredibly easy.  I left the Sheraton New York around 4:30 a.m. and was at the library by 4:50 a.m.  Volunteers were already putting runners on the buses and sending buses on their way to Staten Island.  Galen and I said our good-byes, and he headed back to the hotel to go back to sleep.  I would later see him at Mile 23.

My bus left a little after 5:00 a.m.  A nice female runner from Edmonton, Alberta, Canada sat next to me on the bus.  It was her 20th marathon and we chatted about how much more nerve-wracking NYC was than any other marathon we had run.  It was nice to have someone to chat with and pass the time on the bus. 

I was in the starting village by 5:40 a.m.  Because of the Boston Marathon bombing, security was really high for the race.  To get into the starting village, I was wanded down by a security guard, and a second security guard rifled through my race bag.  Then I was on my way to camp out in the orange starting village until my corral opened at 9:00 a.m.

No one could prepare me for how long the next three hours would be.   I went over to the Dunkin Donuts tent to get a free fleece beanie.  All morning long, I watched runners' heads bobble along with these pink and orange beanies on them.  It was kind of funny.  I had selected the no baggage option, so I had to leave my beanie behind when I went to the starting corrals.  (I didn't want to haul it 26.2 miles with me.)  Instead, I took a photo of it so I could always remember the cute little beanie:

My beloved beanie - I enjoyed it for 2 hours

I sat in a tent for an hour that seemed like an eternity.  At 7:00 a.m. I finally decided to lay down, which was more comfy, and the 2nd hour went by more quickly.  I read my magazine, ate my pop-tarts, was thankful for having handwarmers, ate my peanut butter sandwich, listened to all the different languages being spoken around me, and then it was suddenly 8:00 a.m.  By the time I wandered around the starting village, used the port a potties twice, and removed my first layer of throwaway clothing, it was 9:00 a.m. and my corral had opened.

Trying to find the orange corrals was extremely stressful.  One sign said they were to the left of the village; another said they were to the right of the village.  I finally found a volunteer who showed me a map and pointed me in the right direction.  Once in the corrals, there were more port a potties so I entertained myself by standing in line one more time.

The announcements in the starting corrals were kind of humorous.  One warned runners to use the port a potties in the corrals because urinating on the Verrazano Narrows Bridge was strictly prohibited and disrespectful and unpleasant to fellow runners.  (This was repeated in several languages.)  The second informed runners that the wave 2 corrals had closed and not to panic if they missed getting into a wave 2 corral.  My personal favorite part of this announcement was when they warned runners that didn't make it to the wave 2 corral on time to not scale the fence to get into the corral.  (That was also repeated in several languages.)

Add the starting line (love the Dunkin Donuts beanies!)

Finally, finally!!!  After waiting 1.5 years, I was standing at the starting line of the NYC Marathon with the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge in the distance.  At 10:05 a.m., the canon sounded and "New York New York" was played over the speaker system.  Runners sang to the song in celebration as they crossed the starting line.  Helicopters hovered overhead filming the runners. 

The view as I ran over the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge was AMAZING!  The skyline of NYC was in the distance.  I saw the Statue of Liberty in the harbor.  Coast Guard boats were in the water below.  An NYPD helicopter hovered adjacent to the bridge.  There was so much excitement and adrenaline, I didn't even notice the steep hill up the bridge or that I was running into a very strong headwind.  It was just a gloriously beautiful 2 miles, well except for one thing:

I guess some a-hole male runners really do urinate off the side of the bridge.  Oddly, the five that I saw were all European.  Some of the American runners even yelled at an Italian runner that what he was doing just wasn't cool.  I am so glad I wasn't in the wave of runners that had to run on the bottom deck of the bridge. 

USCG and NYPD watch over the marathon

After I came off the bridge, around Mile 2, I heard drums beating.  The crowds of Brooklyn were waiting for us!  As I entered Brooklyn at Mile 2, I tossed my 2nd throwaway layer.

Going into the race, I never really bothered to look at an elevation chart for the race, so I didn't realize that the course was going to be such a "treat."  The first few miles in Brooklyn seemed like a gradual uphill.  The wind didn't help.  The crowds were amazing.  I had worn my bright yellow Garry Gribbles shirt that said "Kansas City" in big letters on the front and back.  People would cheer out "Go Kansas City" as I ran by.  Some would sing "Kansas City" to me.  It was so bizarre to have complete strangers cheering for me.   At the same time, I was getting this funky disco vibe.  I was totally channeling "you can tell by the way I use my walk..."  It wasn't until I watched the ESPN2 coverage of the event later, that I discovered I ran through part of Brooklyn where Saturday Night Fever was filmed.   I had the wings of heaven on my shoes. 



Welcome to Brooklyn!

Somewhere around the second aid station near Mile 5, I took off my glove and lost it.  For the next 15 miles, my hands were miserably cold.  This was the beginning of the end for me.  At Mile 6, I started feeling a churning in my stomach that no runner wants to feel during a marathon.  At Mile 11, I took my first of four pit stops.  Then I put on my headphones to try to block out the nausea.  The cheering crowds that help push so many runners along the course became screaming crowds that I just wanted to mute.  I didn't feel good; I didn't want to hear them.

At Mile 13, there was some guy dressed up as Big Bird  He looked like a very strung out Big Bird.  Maybe that's why Big Bird has an imaginary friend named Snuffleupagus?  After I saw Big Bird, I climbed the Pulaski Bridge where views of the NYC skyline were terrific.  There were excellent views of the Chrysler Building and Empire State Building.  (It was so hard to believe that it was only nine months earlier that I participated in the Empire State Building Run Up!)


Scenery was a great distraction up the Pulaski Bridge

Queens had been spared a pit stop.
After dealing with the Pulaski Bridge, runners climb up and down the Queensboro Bridge.  The climb was a steep one, but I enjoyed the silence since there are no spectators on the bridge.  Coming off the bridge I entered Manhattan and a "wall of sound" as throngs of people were out spectating on this portion of the course.  Pit stop No. 2 was at the port a potties under the Queensboro Bridge near Mile 16. 

The next four miles were an awful struggle.  I just didn't feel good.  I would run as long as I could then walk to relieve the pressure on my stomach.  I don't remember anything about the course except for two things until I got to an overpass/bridge on the way to Mile 20 that was another horrendous hill.  The first is that I remember hearing "Empire State of Mind" on my iPod somewhere in here, and that helped motivate me a bit.  The second is a spectator that said "Go walker, you can do it."  He's lucky I didn't turn around and punch him in the face.  (There really needs to be a rule book for race spectators of things NOT to say to someone that looks like they are in agony and walking during a marathon.)  I took another pit stop around Mile 20 in the Bronx.  (Take that Yankees!) Coming out of the Bronx was another bridge/hill that I just walked. 

Chugging up the hill at Mile 23. Go Kansas City!  Go!

Once I was heading south back to Central Park, I started to feel a little better. The wind was finally at my back and I could relate to where I was on the route map.  Galen had just texted me that he was at Mile 23, near 105th street.  Kids in Harlem were handing out bananas.  I took one and having some food on my stomach settled it for a little bit.  Trees full of fall color stretched overhead and made a perfect frame for the Empire State Building, visible in the distance.  I had a more positive outlook for a few moments...until I realized the hill that waited for me at Mile 23.   When I started the climb, I just focused on the street signs counting down to 105th Street until I saw Galen.  He was waving the Dunkin Donuts tote bag I had gotten during lunch that Friday when I had stopped for a red velvet donut and NYC Dunkin Donuts coffee mug.  It was such a relief to see a familiar face!  When I saw him, I stopped and dropped off my camera and some Honey Stingers that I didn't need to reduce any further jiggling against my stomach.  I took another pit stop at the aid station.  Galen took some photos and off I went chugalugging back up the hill.

Waving "Bye!" to Galen

The hill to Central Park is tough. Once I lost Galen, I kept my headphones off and relied on the cheers of "Go! Kansas City" and "You can do it, Kansas City" from the crowds. 
At Mile 24, once I was inside Central Park, I put my headphones back on for a bit.  Europe's "The Final Countdown" came on my playlist.  (Hey - it's a guilty pleasure.)  That got me through most of Mile 24, along with the incredible autumn colors.  I took my headphones back off when I came out of Central Park towards Columbus Circle and enjoyed the cheering crowds one last time.  At there point I was doing a lot more walking than running, but I just kept telling my stomach to hang in there for a while longer. 

When I made the right turn back into the park it was almost silent.  High security had kept the spectators away from the finish line stands.  There were virtually no spectators for the last 0.2 mile of a tough uphill finish.  But I finished!

I had finished.  Marathon #33, State #26.  It was definitely one of the hardest battles I have fought to finish a marathon.  I finished in 5:25:12 in 43,495th place.   It was around 3:25 p.m. when I finished the race.

Oh, but the agony was not over.  The long waddle through the finish area had only begun.  I can't remember the exact order of things, but it took me about 20 minutes to get my mylar blanket and medal, then waddle through finish line photos to get my finish line food bag.  Then started the great hike.  I had chosen the no-baggage option when I registered for the race, so that would allow me an early exit from the finish line area.  I tell you, I would hate to see what the non-early exit from the finish line area looked like. 

Posing with my medal post-race in Times Square

The finish line was at 67th Street.  To get to the early exit, I meandered through the park to an exit at 77th Street where we turned left onto Central Park West.  After freezing for over half an hour, at 72nd Street I received a hooded fleece poncho that provided momentary relief from being cold.   Barricades directed runners west to Columbus Avenue.  Then I was directed south down Columbus Avenue to Broadway and back to Columbus Circle.  At 61st Street, the NYPD would not let the group of runners cross the street, so we went down to 60th Street.  At 60th Street, the NYPD said we had to cross at 61st Street.  Agh!!  Back up to 61st Street I went, where the NYPD finally let us cross the street.  Galen had been waiting for me in Columbus Circle, but I was so cold and tired and feeling generally miserable that I missed him and kept moving south along 8th Avenue until I got to 53rd Street.  I took 53rd back to the Sheraton New York at 7th Avenue.  It was after 4:45 when I got to my room.  I had been gone for over 12 hours.   

What post-race delirium looks like....

Overall, the NYC Marathon was an incredible experience even though I had a personally rough race.  It's definitely a bucket list marathon for a runner like myself trying to run a marathon in all 50 states.  The logistics at the start and finish of this race combined with the price make it more of a once in a lifetime race for me.  Who knows, though?  Maybe in another five or ten years I'll try my luck at the lottery and get in again.  For now, I can say that when I got back to my hotel, I was definitely happy it was over and behind me. 

Being able to experience the spirit of NYC and see it on foot from perspectives that many people will never be able to experience themselves, is a priceless experience: 

In New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made,
There's nothing you can't do, now you're in New York
These streets will make you feel brand new
Big lights will inspire you, let's hear it for New York!

       - Empire State of Mind, Jay-Z








 

2013 Empire State Building Run Up

Two numbers have haunted me for over a month:  86 and 1,576. 

In late December, I found out that I "won" the lottery for a spot in the 36th Annual Empire State Building Run-Up (ESBRU) on February 6.  This lucky spot gave me the opportunity to run up the 1,576 stairs from the first floor of the Empire State Building to the observation deck on the 86th floor.  (Note:  According to the New York Times, there were 1,955 applicants for 650 lottery spots, so luck was on my side.)  

My walk to the ESBRU

Over the course of the next month, I felt like the ESB has been taunting me.  It sure pops up on TV and movies A LOT.  There I sit after a run, in front of the TV, and a shot of the NYC skyline would appear.  I felt like it was saying "Shouldn't you be training on some stairs right now?"  It was simply a challenge to find time to train for this run-up.  I ran the Goofy Race and a Half Challenge in early January and needed to taper for and recover from that.  In the end, I maybe did about six or seven actual stair training workouts:  two on real stairs, the rest on the stair climber at the gym.   Definitely not the two a week that my coach recommended, but I just couldn't figure out a good place to run real stairs without getting risking getting kicked out by security.  The stair climber helped me figure out how big of a challenge the ESBRU would be on a cardio level; after training on the real stairs I became frantic about my ESBRU mission because I could barely walk when I was done with a workout.   The stair climber was absolutely worthless for training for a real stair climb.  By the way, a 5-story building is not really sufficient for training either? 

Enter February 6.  6:30 p.m.  There I am, walking down 34th Street to 5th Avenue.  Looking up at the beautifully orange-lighted ESB to celebrate the New York Road Runners (NYRR) and all of a sudden I am stuck in a throng of people, feeling like a fish trying to swim upstream.  I was in front of a Victoria's Secret and I guess some of the models were making an appearance in the store or something.  I like to thought I'd never get through that mess! 

Hanging out with Jackie before the start

Finally I made my way to 5th Avenue and entered the well-known lobby of the ESB and headed upstairs to the second floor to pick up my packet.  It was kind of funny when I picked up my packet.  A few participants saw my Kansas license and were shocked I'd come "all the way from Kansas."  (Looking at the results, there were only a handful of runners that were not from New York or New Jersey.  There were a few from Florida then California, Georgia, Pennsylvania, and Hawaii.   I felt proud to represent flyover country.) Once I had my packet, it was time to wait for my turn to head up the ESB stairs.

The ESBRU is held from 8:00 to 10:00 p.m.  Lottery runners start at 8:30.  The runners are called by number in groups of 100 and lead back down to the first floor of the building, down through the lobby and around to the stairwell.  Runners are released one runner at a time every 7 seconds to prevent mass chaos in the stairwell.

Unfortunately, I was bib number 1044.  This meant that I didn't get to launch until 9:30.  It was a long wait from picking up my bib at 7:00 to getting to start the event.  It was a long time to be anxious.  I was excited, though, that I was able to meet a fellow Marathon Maniac, Jackie, that I've met in the past and see on Facebook frequently.  We hung out until it was her turn to line up for the run-up.  Otherwise, to occupy myself, I talked to other runners and sat around.  I also got to rub elbows with Kelly Ripa, who was running this for charity.   Okay, okay.  So I didn't talk to her, but I did watch her head off to get ready for the run up. 



Kelly Ripa and Gelman


 When it was finally my turn to head downstairs for the run up, I made sure I was in the front of the line.  My patience was wearing thin.  I was tired from getting up for my flight at 4:30 a.m. and then walking around site seeing in the City for 3 hours that afternoon.  I was tired and ready to go to bed. 

When it was finally my turn, I stepped up to the mat, and took off for the stairwell at a slow jog when I heard the word "go".  It was really bizarre stepping into this seemingly empty staircase in this super famous building.  I was excited and nervous...and here's my first mistake.  I took the advice of several runners and took off for the first few flights two steps at a time.  I've never tried to run 2 stairs at a time.  By the 5th flight, I was so out of breath it was pathetic.  I was kind of like "Uh oh.  How am I going to make up it 81 more flights?"  Other runners started passing me on the left, and I convinced myself to ignore them and just started taking the steps one at a time on a quick pace. 

By the time I got to the 20th floor, I was really huffing and puffing, but I felt like I finally had a system down.  At the 20th floor, runners change stair cases and there is a little aid station, so I caught my breath and headed for more stairs.
 
My method for the first 20 flights was messed up when I got to floors 20 through 65.  These floors had two little stairs, a turn, 20 something stairs, a turn, a walk across a landing, and then the pattern repeated.  I welcomed the walk across the landing, and I came to dread the two steps and turn.  It was amazing to me how much energy the two steps and then turn used.  On the long stretch of stairs I would pull myself up with my right arm, and when that arm got tired, I would switch back and forth pulling myself up with my right arm and left arm.  All the while I am getting passed by other runners (and eventually passed two myself). 

The starting line!

The stair wells are dark grey and dimly lighted.  Someone in a New York Times article compared it to the inside of a battleship.  Sometimes you are completely alone on a flight of stairs...all you can hear is your breath, your heartbeat, foot steps and the huffing and puffing and gasping of fellow runners on other flights of stairs.  Oh...and your lungs feel like they are going to pop out of your mouth.  Also, you cannot see the dust but by the 43rd story, I knew I was inhaling dust.  My respiratory system was on fire.  Partially the cardio.  Partially the dust.  Thankfully Jackie had told me to chew gum during the run up to keep my throat from getting dry.  It was probably a lifesaver.  Even with gum, by the 50th floor I was so ready to get water at the 65th floor.

Cheesy self-finishers portrait

The only cheerleaders are security guards occasionally stationed on floors to make sure all is well.  I do have to say that every one of them seemed to be enjoying themselves.  They rooted on the runners like a true spectator.  Maybe it was just exciting for them to have something to actually see while they work the night shift?

I know, it sounds miserable, right?  But I was having that kind of fun that only a marathoner could describe as fun.  Besides I was in the stairs of the EMPIRE STATE BUILDING.  I wanted to be there.  These pep talks didn't help the other side of my brain that asked me what the heck I was doing to myself.   The doorways to each floor had the floor number on them, and I just found myself looking for the number on every floor and eventually had to stop myself.  It was kind of like watching the tenths of a mile go by on a treadmill.  I was driving myself crazy thinking how much further I had to keep going. 
At the 65th floor, you pop out into a hallway.  It was so bright.  There were happy people handing out water.  It just looked like civilization.  ...and then I had to go back into another staircase.  With a different pattern of stairs.  I think this one involved two shorter series of stairs and shorter landings...but I don't really remember.  Around the 70th floor I was just trying not to puke or pass out.  At the 72 floor I took a one minute breather on the landing.  (A nice breathless runner made sure I was okay.)   My legs never really got tired...but the cardio workout of going up all those stairs so quickly was wiping me out.  Other runners would be taking breathers or pep talking themselves into moving up the stairs more quickly.  It was a total mind game to keep going.    

Speaking of the Chrysler building....

At this point I was around a group of people that were counting down the floors.  That was great, except I'd either hear the number for the floor ahead of me or the floor behind me, so I really got messed up with how much further I had to go...until finally, one last right turn and the stairwell to the observation deck.  It had to be only 15 stairs but I swear to you it looked like 1,000.  I stumbled up the stairs and made a left turn and was greeted with 20 degree fresh air.  I remember gasping in joy and almost doubling over.  The run around the observation deck to the finish line was glorious.  Fresh air!  Gorgeous view!  Flat!!  I jogged on into the building and received my finisher's medal.  Nice and shiny like the top of the Chrysler building!  (Yes...I had to stick in an Annie reference.)

I heard it takes the elevator about 1 minute and 2 seconds to get to the observation deck.  It took me 24:51 (official time).  The average times were probably 18 to 20 minutes.  I was just happy to beat half an hour.   There were 724 finishers:  427 men and 248 women.  I finished 516th -  208 people were slower than me. 

Shortly after crossing the finish line, I started coughing.  I'd been warned that this would happen because of the dusty stairwells.  Let me tell you, there's nothing like a chorus of runners that sound like they've all been smoking a pack every day for 20 years.  I grabbed a bottle of water, took a quick photo on the observation deck, and headed for the elevators to the ground floor.


Race Goodies

When I got in the elevators, a traditional recording came on in a polite woman's voice:  "We hope you have enjoyed your ESB observation deck experience..." I was kind of like, "Oh, recorded lady, you don't even know the half of it."

 I have loved the ESB for years.  In 2007, it was the first thing I did when I went to Manhattan.  Yes, it was a long trip from Kansas City for a short race (thankful for Southwest Rapid Rewards points!), but it's an experience I will never forget.  For the rest of my life, whenever I see the ESB I will see it through a completely new set of eyes.  I cannot wait to reminiscence when I head back to NYC this fall for the 2013 marathon!