NYC Marathon!!

I am still basking in the glow from Sunday! The day was everything I wished it to be and more and I haven't stopped smiling since I crossed that finish line (except when I try to go downstairs, that hurts, a lot). Sunday night, my nerves began to turn back to excitement as I laid out my race kit and tucked in for an early night. 

I was up and at it by 4:30am (thank goodness we got an extra hour of sleep). I left the hotel at 5:30 with 2 other Team For Kids runners and we made our way to the ferry on the east side. We watched the sun rise over Queens as we waited for the ferry to arrive and then we began our trip to Staten Island. As the boat left the dock, Coach Glen made a funny comment about there being only one way back. 

Once in Staten Island, we boarded buses for the trip to the base of the Verazanno Bridge. Athlete's Village was humming with runners waiting for their start waves. Seeing the bridge really made it all so so surreal. TFK had a heated tent with coffee, Gatorade, and good music to keep us pumped. I settled in, worked on settling the nerves, and got myself all warmed up.  

By 9:30, I was in the corral, waiting for the cannon to sound and the wave to hit the road! Every friend who has run NYC warned me to keep it steady on the bridge, it's 2+ miles and an uphill start and easy to get carried away, I kept a nice easy pace, let my nerves wash away, and took in the views as I took it downhill into Brooklyn. 

Brooklyn is a good 10 miles of the race and they know how to show up and show their support! I hit my stride and ran solid mile after miles, walking a few steps at each water stop before hitting my paces again. I saw great signs, got handed a water bottle which probably saved my race, and was given a small Israeli flag which I waved with all my might!

I hit the half-way mark as we crossed into Queens (oh hello bridge 2) just over my half-marathon time and kept chugging along. My mom and friend were at mile 14 and I grabbed a quick hug before heading over the Queensboro Bridge (bridge 3!) into Manhattan. I hit my wall on the bridge, HARD. That uphill combined with no crowd support and a bit of dehydration hit hard. I came off that bridge really in a bad mental spot, even the roar of 1st Avenue couldn't help me regain my stride.

I let myself walk/run the gradual uphill from 59th St to 126th St. My legs were hurting...bad...but I knew by the time I crossed the Willis Avenue Bridge (that's bridge 4...) into the Bronx that I would finish no matter what. Somewhere between mile 20 and 21 I got my second wind. I ran over the Last Damn Bridge (yes, bridge 5) and back into Manhattan with a second wind. I hit 5th Avenue where the crowds were losing their minds cheering and got back close to my marathon goal pace. I saw a coworker just past mile 25 in Central Park and I just found every ounce of strength to take that last downhill towards the finish. 

You round the corner out of the park, onto Central Park South and start to hear the roar from the finish. I slowed for one more walk break and heard people screaming at me to run. I picked up the pace as we headed back into Central Park and up to the finish pavilion. My mom and friend had made their way to the grandstands and I kept my eyes glued for them. The last .2 always feels SO long but I saw that finish and took a look at my watch and realized I was hitting my goal time and just ran.

The photographer caught the sheer emotion I had coming over the finish line. That was a mix of sobbing, screaming, and relief. I was sobbing as the volunteer put my medal around me and my sister texted me my official time. 4:30:50. A 25 minute PR and spot on the finish time I trained for! I then realized how much my entire body hurt as I made my way towards the recovery bag and poncho. My Team For Kids catcher, Sean, "caught" me and helped me hobble out of the park towards the TFK tent. The 4ish block walk took about 30 minutes to give the picture of just how much my body hurt. I started to sob again when I saw my 

mom!

After a few more photos, I got my checked bag, got the sneakers off (no blisters!) and we headed back to the hotel. The adrenaline was racing still as I tried to recount the miles for my mom and friend. I got all cleaned up and we headed home to Westchester before my legs decided to go on strike.

I took Monday off to recover and revel in my success. It still feels a bit like a dream. In 2019, when I injured my hip my doctor promised me I would run again, but he wouldn't guarantee another marathon. Not because he didn't think I could do it, but from a medical perspective my injury can impact long distances. Well, never say never! 5.5 years of hard work rehabbing my hip and learning how to train smarter I walk away with a 25-minute PR on one of the toughest marathon courses to set a PR (did I mention 5 bridges?). I proudly updated my PR chalkboard which hangs over my treadmill. I would look at that anytime my mind wanted to quit on a run and say "I am coming for you" and come I did!

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