Marathon Training Blog

November 10, 2008

The Finish Line

I reek of Ben-Gay, shudder at the sight of stairs (I recommend going down backward) and struggle to sit down—all telltale signs of a successful marathon! The crowds, course and energy were better than I imagined. From start to finish, it was an amazing journey.

I woke up at 5 a.m. (and 3 a.m. and 4 a.m.) in order to make my 6 a.m. bus to Staten Island—arriving three and half hours before the start of the race. It was a cold morning and people were walking around in old sweats and ski jackets, which they toss before the race. I waited nervously for my friend Emily to arrive. After we met up, checked our bags and located the starting area, it wasn't long before our wave time was called.

The two of us lined up with thousands of others and walked slowly to the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. Unwanted clothes were flying through the air as people abandoned their layers. Before we even hit the start line, people took off running, which didn't stop them from celebrating and snapping photos. After months of preparation and anticipation, the finish line was only 26.2 miles away!

Coming off the bridge into Brooklyn, the crowds on the course were thick and they never seemed to wane. People lined the streets offering high fives, banging on pots and pans, blasting music, cheering strangers on by name and waving signs. It was exhilarating! We kept an eye out for friends and family, often spotting them before they saw us. I found Emily's family, even though we'd never met, thanks to a bright sign with her name on it. I ran up and hugged my mom, who was so overwhelmed by the crowds she didn't see me waving to her. We stopped for pictures, handed off layers and took energy gels in return.

I tried to focus on finishing, rather than on my time, but after we got off pace due to crowds, water stops and port-a-potty lines, I wanted to speed up. Emily encouraged me to go ahead and although I hated to leave my running buddy behind, I knew I needed to pick up the pace to reach my goal of coming in under 5 hours. An added incentive was that The New York Times publishes the names of all those who run a sub-five hour marathon. With the race nearly halfway over, I kicked it up a notch. Having avoided the common mistake of going out too fast, I still had energy to burn.

Heading over the bridge into Manhattan, I could hear the cheers from First Avenue and was inspired by the massive crowd, which I scanned for familiar faces. At mile 18, I was psyched to find four friends waving and screaming. They offered me encouragement and a drink while taking pictures. I was so energized when I left them that I almost sped past my mom, who was shouting my name from the sidelines a few blocks up. I couldn't believe how good I felt right up until mile 20, a point where many people hit the wall. I started to feel queasy and my entire body was sore and heavy. Then I saw a man tackling the race on prosthetic legs and crutches and was reminded not to give up.

Struggling up the hill at mile 23 was the most challenging part of the race, but upon entering Central Park, I felt a rush of adrenaline and my legs began moving faster. After seeing a friend near Columbus Circle, I took off sprinting, running my fastest mile of the race. I crossed the finish line happy and exhausted and relieved. I accepted my medal and insulation blanket and wore them with pride on the subway ride home. The following day I walked gingerly to the newsstand to buy a paper, where my name was listed among the finishers, and every painful step reminded me of my accomplishment.

November 7, 2008

A Medal for 714th Place!

It's official. On October 26, I completed my first marathon. My time? Four hours and 57 minutes. One year ago, I could not have imagined being able to complete this race. Even days before the run, I wondered if it was possible—would IT band pains trip me up before the half-way point? I focused on my original goal: Just finish standing.

From the moment I arrived in sunny Cape Cod, the excitement level kept escalating as I prepared for the race. Pick up bibs: Check. Stock supplies (pasta, bananas, sports drinks, water, tuna): Check. Drive the course (well, half of it—until rolling hills started psyching us out): Check. Lounge around fire, eat, relax: Check. Unpack race outfit, stock belt with gel and jellybeans: Check. I was in bed by 10—but didn't sleep a wink.

On a cool, foggy morning, the 26.1-mile race began. Hands-down this was the most gorgeous course I've ever seen (it ranks among Runners' World's Top 10 Most Scenic Marathons in America). The route stretched alongside crashing waves, where I inhaled salty sea air, and then past lighthouses and farmhouses as it zigzagged up tree-lined roads. Mist gave way to sunshine lighting up the autumn leaves—orange, yellow, red—and I was so happy to be part of it.

Because of an injury, I had capped my training runs at 16 miles. So I ran the marathon without knowing exactly how far my body would permit me to go. I wore a strap around my knee, but my IT Band still let loose its first yelp at mile 8. Just get to 15, I thought to myself. I made it, hit the bathrooms, and kept going. Familiar faces would greet me at mile 20 so I couldn't wait to reach that marker. This is the longest run of your life, I thought to myself, keep going.

Somehow, I did. I kept running as long as I could, until mile 23, and then I started walking. My legs were spent and achy. At first sight of the finish line, though, my eyes lit up. Out ran my friend Emily, who had finished much earlier (4:03!), to join me in my final steps. I heard my name over the loudspeaker. Wow, what an unbeatable feeling it is to reach a goal. Soon I was down for a five-hour count, awaking with a three-day limp and a mega-watt smile. Was it worth it? You betcha!

October 31, 2008

Getting Ready for Race Day

With the marathon just days away, my goal is getting to the starting line healthy. I've been getting plenty of sleep, popping vitamins, carbo loading and trying my best not to break or strain anything. There aren't any workouts I can do now that will help me on race day, but there are other ways to prepare.

Don't stress the start
There are nearly 40,000 people running the New York City marathon and we all start on the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, which connects Staten Island with Brooklyn. Can you say traffic jam? The start is divided into three different waves and each wave is further broken down into several "corral assignments," which are based on your pace. To add to the confusion, runners are also split between the upper and lower decks of the bridge. The only thing more complicated than this system is actually getting everyone to Staten Island via bus, ferry and subway.

This week I had a moment of panic when I discovered that my running buddy had a different corral assignment. I was worried we wouldn't be able to run together as planned! After doing some research, we learned that in order to start together we simply have to go to the corral of the slower runner. Problem solved! Any way you look at it, the start is going to be crowded and frenetic. My advice is to stay focused and try to relax. After the first mile, the crowd thins out and it becomes easier to maneuver.

Personalize your outfit
When I ran the Boston Marathon on my 22nd birthday (what a gift to myself!), I wrote my name and "It's my birthday" on my shirt. During the entire race, total strangers were yelling "Happy Birthday, Alla!" and it was a huge motivator. If you want people to cheer for you by name, write it on your bib or shirt. Also, make it easy for your fans to spot you by wearing a bright color. My hot pink shirt will stick out in a sea of black and blue.

Organize your cheerleaders
Seeing friends and family along the way can really keep you going. My biggest cheerleader&—my mom—has been there for my past three marathons and flew into New York this week to root for me. I've mapped out a number of cheering spots for her, so she'll be running all over the boroughs too. My friend Jen, who lives by mile 18 (a crucial time for a pick-me-up), is throwing a marathon party to show support, and I've asked my coworker to make up posters so I can spot them on the sidelines. Even those not on the course can track a runner's progress through fan alerts, which deliver split times via e-mail.

Good luck to everyone running the marathon this weekend! See you at the finish line...