The Badass 6-Hour Mountain Bike Endurance Race

Mountain-Bike-Crash

PART I: TRAINING DAY

In another six days, I will be participating in a 6-hour mountain bike endurance race at Wolfe’s Pond Park in Staten Island.  I am excited about this race for several reasons.  I’ve been a runner for most of my life and I’ve run tons of road races, so this race will be novel for me since I never competed in a mountain biking race before.  I am a seasoned long-distance runner, so I am very curious to see how my body can handle going the distance atop a mountain bike.  Also, I never participated in a timed race before; it was always a distance-based race.  I want to test my limits of physical endurance to see how long my body can last riding for six hours on the trails.  For me, this will be a marathon on wheels.

In preparation for the race, today I did a 3-hour training ride on the trails at Wolfe’s Pond Park.  The bad part of this training was that it was raining all morning, so the trails were muddy and slippery.  This proved to be very dangerous for me.  The Wolfe’s Pond trails have a lot of exposed tree roots and I learned very quickly the right and wrong way to deal with these roots.  I fell off my bike several times; in one very nasty fall, my bike stopped  in its tracks and I flew off the seat and my head crashed onto the ground, then my bike fell on top of me (very similar to the photo above). After seeing that no bones were broken, I continued on with my ride.

When my watch counted down from 3 hours to zero, my training was over.  I was able to cover 15 miles at an average pace of 5 miles per hour; not bad considering the wet and dangerous conditions of the trails.  I also burned over 3,000 calories in the process.

I am glad that I had the chance today to train, for it made me come up a bunch of safety and racing hints and techniques to help make the actual race easier to bear.  Here is a checklist of things that I will do on Race Day:

  1. Wear protective eyewear.  Overgrown foliage can poke you in the eyes while riding.
  2. Wear a long-sleeved technical shirt to protect my arms against overgrown thorn bushes.
  3. When encountering exposed roots, ride across them in a perpendicular fashion, NOT parallel.
  4. Apply wet lubricant to the bike chain to waterproof it (there will be a water challenge or two).
  5. Wear bike gloves.
  6. Bring 2-3 inner tubes in case you get a flat along the way.
  7. Fatigue will start setting in after riding for a few hours.  When this happens, I should attempt any trail challenges very carefully so as not to hurt myself.
  8. If you are wearing a gps watch during the race, have it set to ‘Bike’ mode and set it so it will have a 6-hour countdown.  That way, at any point in the race, you will know exactly how much time you have left for the end of the race.

I think I am ready for this race.  Now all I can do is wait.

PART II: RACE DAY

Saturday, May 21, 2011

It’s race day and I arrive early at Wolfe’s Pond Park, the place that I will soon get to know very intimately.  One of the first people I meet there is my friend Steve, who will be volunteering for this race.  Steve will be manually tabulating all the laps that each cyclist completes as they pass by him through Base Camp.  Once I get my bike and supply bag out of the car, I walk into the woods towards Base Camp.  Base Camp is the start and finish of the race.  It is where the digital countdown clock will be to remind all the riders how much time they have left to the end of the race.  Base Camp is where we’ll all be passing by each time we finish yet another 2.61-mile loop.  It’s also the place for all riders to recharge, refuel, catch their breath, pray and fix any bike issues such as flat tires and loose chains.

When I reached the main tent, Matt Lebow, the mastermind behind this race, greeted me with a big ear-to-ear grin as he does with everyone.  That grin is not just a grin from a man with a great positive attitude about life; that grin told me what I was in store for today, for Matt seems to enjoy watching participants suffer through punishing challenges in his races.  That grin was a masochistic one and it was a sign of things to come.  Since I arrived early and had some time on my hands, I checked out the various “skills park” challenges that were set up the night before, for this was not simply a bike trail race through the woods, but rather a race to see how well one can control and manipulate one’s bike without getting killed in the process.  This was a technical race.  There were two huge teeter-totters along the course.  Upon finishing a lap, one had to ride up, then down each teeter-totter.  The first teeter-totter was easy; the second one was built much higher and narrower; every time I did a test run on it, I almost killed myself.  This is when I decided that my racing strategy would be to not kill myself, for my daughter’s 11th birthday party was the next day and she would be let down if her party was cancelled due to me dying.

It had rained incessantly over the past several days and I knew that this could only be a bad omen for today’s race.  The thought of riding through tons of mud out there on the course was constantly bearing down on my mind, for a mountain bike rider has to exert a LOT more energy just to keep their bike moving ever-so-slowly through the mud, and I would have to do this for six hours!  My mind already switched into Survival Mode and thought about the options on how I can obtain the energy needed for the ordeal that was about to unfold.  I found out later that Matt went to great lengths over the past several days to sweep, rake away, and cover up with leaves as much water and mud as possible along the race route.

It was 10:00AM and the race was officially ready to begin.  3… 2…. 1…., and we’re off!  All the bikers begin riding, the clock begins it’s countdown, and we all start entering the trails.  As soon as we make our first left turn, there’s already the first man-made challenge: the mini-mountain obstacle.  This apparatus consisted of a steep wooden ramp that went up several feet at a 45-degree angle, then back down.  All the bikers had to generate enough momentum with their bikes in order to gain the speed necessary to scale this ramp.  Otherwise your bike would fall back down backwards.  I made it up this challenge successfully, but the thought of having to repeat this challenge many more times over 6 hours was a little bothersome to me, especially as fatigue set in.  We also had to ride our bikes along wooden bridges; any false move on those bridges, we would fall into the rocky stream below.

Mountain Bike #1   Mountain Bike #2

MUD, MUD, MUD (AND MORE MUD)

Bearing in mind all the days of rain in the proceeding several days, it was inevitable to find mud along this course, even with Matt’s help in cleaning it up.  It’s just that MUCH of the course had mud throughout.  I soon realized that today’s race was going to be a totally different animal; it was going to be a mud race; a race of Man vs. Mud, and I was going to beat the crap out of this mud, or so I thought.

Mountain Bike #3  Mountain Bike #4

If today’s race were a Kevin Costner film, it would be called “Mudworld: The Search For Dry Land”, for dry land was hard to come by today.  Regardless, I was still able to finish the first 2.61-mile loop in 24:10.  At this rate, I was going to keep to my original goal of 5 miles per hour, or 30 miles by the end of the race.  So far, so good.

FLATS ‘R US

After completing two laps in 59 minutes and thus keeping to my pacing goal of 5 miles per hour, I began to get cocky.  This was a perfect time for a little humbleness and humility to set in, which was given to me on a silver platter via a flat tire.  Only I got the flat a mile away from Base Camp in the middle of the woods.  I decided to run with my bike, for running was my forte, plus I wouldn’t have to change a flat tire in the middle of nowhere.  As I was running while pushing my bike, I ran right by two CERT volunteers.  They were part of a group of volunteers strategically planted throughout the course to help the mountain bikers with anything from a boo-boo on their legs, an amputation, a flat tire, or anything in between.  Running by two CERT volunteers along the trail, they asked me if everything was okay and I told them, “It’s just a flat tire”.  I decided to continue running until I reached Base Camp where I can have access to the tools and personnel necessary to fix the flat.  Seeing me running into Base Camp while pushing my bike must have been an interesting sight to see.

POETRY IN MOTION

Besides the man-made challenges such as the teeter-totter and mini-mountain, there were also a ton of natural challenges.  On several parts of the course, we had to ride our bikes straight through rocky streams.  This proved to be very nerve-wracking for me, for the combination of scattered stones and water made riding through this mixture very scary and unpredictable.  In one stream, my front tire got wedged in a bunch of rocks, then the rear end of the bike flew up into the air, and my body and bike fell directly on top of a bunch of rocks in the stream.  The photo below only caught the beginnings of this event; you will have to use your imagination to picture how it all looked moments later.

Mountain Bike #5

Additionally, Matt warned us all about a part of the course by Acme Lake.  There were a few parts of this course that came dangerously close to the edge of the lake; Matt warned us to be very careful with a caveat that there were no water rescue teams here today to save us in case we fall in.  Here is one of those areas:

Mountain Bike #6

FLAT TIRE: PARTS II, III, AND IV

Just when the mud became a major distraction during this race, a more sinister hindrance made itself known and showed me no mercy: another flat tire!  Getting a flat tire during a bike race was even more upsetting than dealing with the mud, for at least my bike was moving during my mud-capades.  Getting a flat in the middle of the woods was annoying on many levels; you were stuck, and just standing there wasn’t going to help get anything done.  First, you had to make sure that you were not blocking the course, for much of it was single-track and out of respect for the other riders, you wanted to make sure you were not in their way.  So sometimes, I had to run with my bike to an area wide enough for bikers to get by.  Once that was done, I immediately removed my tire with a quick-release lever, unscrewed the air cap and the screw that held the punctured tube onto the rim, then remove the old tube from the tire.  Then, and most importantly, I had to very carefully scan the entire inside of the tire with my fingers feeling around for the culprit that was responsible for puncturing my tire.  If I didn’t remove this culprit, I would immediately get another flat, so it was essential that I succeed in this step.  For most of the flats in today’s race, the culprits seemed to be thorns.  This was to happen several more times throughout the race, and I had to change these tires with caked-on mud no less.

THE FINAL LOOP (OR SO I THOUGHT)

I was now 4 hours and 18 minutes into the race and I had just completed 18.27 miles.  By now, three bikers competing with me in the solo category couldn’t take it anymore and quit.  While I felt bad for them, I now had three less competitors to worry about, which renewed my excitement for the rest of this mudventure.  I now had completed seven loops.  My original plan was to ride non-stop throughout this race, but in reality, every time I completed yet another loop and entered Base Camp, I was so tired from my latest Mud Run that I had to take a 5-10-minute rest.  My friends Steve and Amy were there to support me, which really made a big difference for my psyche and well-being.  Every time I entered Base Camp after completing another lap, Steve and Amy were my pit-stop crew, serving me water, power gels, energy drinks, and even a hamburger that came straight off the grill.  I once asked Amy for aspirin which she gladly bought at a nearby store and gave it to me at the completion of my next lap.  I was so exhausted, yet so determined to push myself to the very end.  I became a ravenous animal and devoured whatever was given to me, for I remembered the 3,000 calories that I burned last week when I trained on these trails for three hours.  Since today’s race was twice as long, I am guessing that I burned at least 6,000 calories.

I began my eighth lap with a plan of completing two more after that.  Little did I know that this lap would be my longest and most physically and mentally agonizing lap of the whole race.  I am a runner for over 27 years and runners primarily use their calf muscles more than their quadriceps.  The reverse is true for bikers.  Prior to this race, my quads had only a handful of training rides, and never did I ever ride a bike for a full six hours.  Throughout this race so far, I have been pushing my quads to their limits, especially when I had to pedal through the mud and up steep hills.  Halfway through my eighth lap, the most painful thing that I ever experienced in my life happened to me: EXTREME lactic acid buildup in my quads, also known as cramps.  Lactic acid is a by-product of non-stop working out without rest.  Some kind of naturally-occurring acid in the body builds up in pockets around the muscles and if the activity level is not decreased at this time, localized pain flares up in those areas where the acid is.  Up to this point, my mind was so focused on getting the miles in as quickly as possible, I treated my body as if it were a machine.  The pain in my quads was so unbearable, I jumped off my bike, threw it on the ground and tightly wrapped my hands around a tree.  I punched and squeezed my legs hoping that this would help dissipate the lactic acid that filled them up to a boiling point.  The sensation in both my quads was that of two bombs about to explode and intense pressure in my legs made it feel like they both were literally about to explode.  After standing there for about 5 minutes or so, the pain subsided to a low enough point for me to continue riding.  But I could no longer ride fast, for the lactic acid levels in both my legs were still very high.  I had to ride slow enough to prevent another flare up, which happened to me a few more times during this lap.  Just when my legs felt good enough to use again, Flat #5 reared it’s ugly head.  Luckily, I got this flat at a clearing where two CERT volunteers were ready, willing and able to help me.  One was a man; he was joking around with me trying to lighten up my situation.  He kept on begging me to bring him a hamburger during my next loop around, which I thought was funny.  The other volunteer was a middle-aged woman who helped find me a bunch of napkins so that I can clean all the mud that was caked around my flat tire.  She was a godsend, for her motivating conversation while I was struggling to change my tire helped me get through this ordeal.  After about a dozen minutes of tire-changing hell, I was off to complete this loop, still making sure that I controlled my speed to avoid any further lactic acid flare-ups.  Finally, I got back to Base Camp feeling as though I’ve been to Hell and back.  I completed this lap at the 5 hour and 19-minute mark.  This agonizing lap took me over an hour to complete!!!

I was so spent both mentally and physically at this point that when I saw Steve and Amy, I told them that it was over for me regardless of how much time was still left to the race.

THE TERMINATOR: I’LL BE BACK!!!

I now had eight laps under my belt, or a total of 20.88 miles.  After that last Lap From Hell, I was ready to call it a day.  As far as I was concerned, it was over.  I asked Steve, who was tabulating the laps, how much of a distance I was from 3rd to 4th place, for if I was way ahead of the 4th place biker, it wouldn’t make much sense for me to continue biking in my condition.  But when Steve checked the lap table, he noticed that I was neck-and-neck with the 3rd place guy.  We both had 20.88 miles under our belts.  At this moment, I switched myself into Terminator Mode.  I said to myself that I must do another lap no matter what it takes to make sure that I finish in 3rd place.  I threw all my feelings about my leg cramps, flat tires and mud out the window and I was now bent on finishing one more lap even if I had to run it.  I was now the freakin’ Terminator and I was ready to tell them, “I’ll be back!!!”.  This was no longer a 6-hour endurance race for me; it now became a 2.61-mile race to the finish and I was programmed to finish it by the end of the sixth hour no matter what.

After I told Steve and Amy my plans, she told me, “You really are a bad ass!”.  I guess I am living up to the name of this race, for a renewed sense of vigor took control of me and I was hell-bent on getting the job done.  My strategy for this final lap was simple: when I was on top of a hill, take advantage of gravity and ride down it like a bat out of hell.  When I came to level land, pedal slowly to avoid lactic acid flare-ups and when I came to an uphill, run with my bike up that hill.  Using this strategy paid off; I completed this final lap with the clock reading 5:52 and only eight minutes left to the end of the race.

When everything was said and done, I ended up earning the third place medal at the awards ceremony.  The race started with seven men competing in the solo category.  Three men dropped out halfway through the race.  I ended up completing 23.4 miles going an average of 3.9 miles per hour with the ordeal of having five flat tires throughout the race.  I was tired, hurt, muddy, cut up, beat up and in need of a serious hot shower.  I didn’t get to sleep until midnight that night due to all the energy drinks I consumed that day.  And I finished the race alive.  My daughter will not get mad at me now knowing that her birthday party would be in full-swing the next day.

I am now an official card-carrying Bad Ass.

Mountain Bike #7  Mountain Bike #8  Mountain Bike #9  Mountain Bike #10  Mountain Bike #11  Mountain Bike #12

The High Rock Challenge

Mark & Josh HRC Pic

In today’s politically-correct World where the roles of the sexes seem to blur, it is much harder for someone like me to be reminded of what it’s like to be a man in the most virile sense.  Women are working and bringing home the bacon while Daddy’s like me are increasingly becoming house-husbands with domestic responsibilities that run the gamut from cooking, cleaning to booger-cleaning.  It’s no wonder that us Mommy-Daddys desperately need a conduit to protect and defend our virility before we actually start growing breasts of our own.  Hence, the existence of the High Rock Challenge.

I have been fortunate to participate in the High Rock Challenge for the 4th year in a row now.  This Challenge is not just a running race, but rather an experience that with each event redefines what it is to be a man on a very visceral level.  The race consists of two-man teams that start out running through the woods of the Staten Island Greenbelt.  As we continue running along a 7-mile-plus trail marked only with small pieces of neon-orange tape throughout the entire distance, we must overcome several mystery challenges throughout the course in order to complete our quest of reaching the finish line.  Most of these are physical challenges requiring strength, balance, mental fortitude and ingenuity, or a combination of all four.  Whatever the challenge, we must stay together as a team, which is the basic premise of the whole event.  This year, the competition has over 300 teams and the name of our team is the Inglourious Basterds.  Yes, today my partner Mark and I are Basterds and we are determined to get through all the challenges as quick as possible to have a good finishing time.

As we, the proverbial hounds, are released into the woods in between other teams with staggered start times (the trails are too narrow to allow all 300 teams to be released at the same time), the first mystery challenge is already looming in our minds.  After running for about 1/2 mile, we come across our first challenge: a 10-foot-tall cargo net hanging between two trees.  We must scale it in order to continue our course.  We both scale it with no problem.  Immediately after that, it’s Mystery Challenge #2: The Rolling Tube.  Only one of us has to do this challenge and I decide to be The One.  I have to walk across a thick PVC tube that loosely rolls around a rope as I try to support my entire body by hanging onto a rope above my head.  Basically I am walking across a tight-rope, only that the tight-rope will spin if I walk across it too fast or with too much of my own weight on it.  I make it across that challenge fairly easy.

Screen Shot 2013-04-20 at 10.51.01 PM

 Screen Shot 2013-04-21 at 12.34.43 PMScreen Shot 2013-04-21 at 12.34.26 PMScreen Shot 2013-04-21 at 12.34.03 PM

After that, we continue running through the woods, up and down hills for the next two miles.  What becomes very noticeable is that these two miles of trails are infested with mud, and not your typical run-of-the-mill mud; this mud is freaking quicksand.  There is so much mud that our only course of action is to run like hell straight through the middle of the mud with the hopes that we will come out of it unscathed with each mud pile we encounter.  Mark actually got stuck in the mud at one point and it literally almost sucked his running shoe straight off of his foot.  As we overcome the Mud Issue with our run-like-hell running strategy, we finally arrive at a new mystery challenge that will define the insanity of this race: The Drainage Pipe Crawl.  At this point, in order to continue along the race course, each one of us must crawl through a 20-foot-long drainage pipe that has a roughly 3’x3’ opening.  If you are claustrophobic, this is the point where you will hang up your running shoes and quit the race.  After crawling through the pipe, we had to run uphill through a babbling stream for about 1/4 mile.  Our running shoes were soaked to the bone, which was a welcome relief since the water helped clean off  most of the mud that had become caked onto it early on in the race.

We were now running again on high and dry terrain.  Our only issue now was the hills; the course was infested with steep hills that we had to scale repeatedly.  My quadriceps, that chunk of leg muscle between your knees and pelvis, was starting to burn from all the hills I was scaling.  We finally came to an area full of what looked like a bunch of befuddled runners holding maps.  This was the location of our next mystery challenge.  We were given a map of the woods and were instructed to find six locations on the map, each location holding a special hole puncher.  We had to have six numbers on our map punched at these locations in order to finish this challenge.  The catch was that your teammate had to run while carrying an 18-pound sandbag.  Luckily, Mark took the sandbag job while I was in charge of the map.  After getting a little lost on a few occasions, we managed to get all six numbers punched correctly, and we were off to continue the race.  We finally approached a lake where our next challenge was awaiting us: kayaking across a lake.

Screen Shot 2013-04-21 at 1.00.30 PM

This was a welcome relief from all the running we were doing, for our arms did all the work while our legs rested.  After rowing our kayak around a buoy in the middle of the lake and coming back to shore, we were off again to continue pounding our legs on dry land.  We ran and ran and ran, up and down hills, over tree stumps, rocks and through thorn bushes.  Finally, after running a good mile or two, we came across our next challenge, this time a mental challenge.  We were given a list of 25 scrambled nature words and we had to unscramble five of them.  Putting our two brains together really helped, for each of us was able to unscramble the two or three words that were necessary to continue going our course.  As we came down the road and up the driveway of the Greenbelt Recreation Center, we can just smell the finish line.  However, we had one more mystery challenge and it was less than 20 yards away from the finish line.  We come across this challenge seeing a lot of other runners dunking their tired filthy bodies into several wading pools filled with murky dirt-infused water.

Screen Shot 2013-04-21 at 12.35.03 PM

 Screen Shot 2013-04-21 at 12.35.19 PM

The goal was to find three ceramic tiles hidden in that water that spelled out our team number.  Blindly, we searched and searched and searched for our numbers to show up and after a few minutes of frantically acting like two dysfunctional pigs in a pig sty, we found them!  Once an official checked the number on our tiles to the number on our shirts, we were home free.

After we crossed the finish line, a renewed sense of masculinity got pumped into my being, the kind that cavemen must have felt when they came home to the family dragging a saber-tooth tiger by the tail for dinner.  I am man and I ate dirt today and I loved every bit of it.

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The New York City Marathon

NYC Marathon

6:00 AM – Waking Up

I wake up feeling well-rested for the first time in my life.  And that’s a good thing since I will be running 26.2 miles in the next three hours.  I made sure I loaded myself up with lots of pasta the night before.  It’s something us runners call ‘carbo-loading’, for carbohydrate-laden foods like pasta burns slowly in the body, which is the kind of gas us runners need to go the distance.  I do the Bathroom Thing, have breakfast then go through my race-day checklist making sure I have everything I need for a great race-day experience.  Everything seems to be in check.  My friend Bob comes to pick me up in his car.  And we’re off!

7:55 AM – Arrival

We arrive at Fort Wadsworth to a literal City of Runners.  As soon as we enter this city through the portal at Bay Street and School Road, I immediately have to pee.  This will be the theme of my visit to this Runners City for the next 60 minutes, for I will have to visit the throne several more times due to equal doses of over-hydration and race-day jitters.  I am not alone; there are hundreds of portable urinals scattered throughout this Runners City and every single runner of the 42,000+ runners who will run this race today are experiencing the same thing as me.  In fact, the NYC Marathon is touted as having the longest urinal in the World, which is at least 100 yards long (see http://www.urinal.net).  Now that’s a lot of pee!

8:30 AM – Corral Time (aka The Long Wait)

In other situations in one’s life, it would be okay to arrive late.  However, being that this is the NYC Marathon, everything at this event is done in a very methodical, organized and planned way.  Nobody wants any hitches to happen on this day; it is the Wedding Day for us Marathoners.  Part of this planning is having all the runners line up in their respective corrals WAY in advance of the actual start time of our race.  This entails each of us to enter these special fenced-in holding areas that correspond to the colors of our race numbers.  There are three race starts: the Orange Group, The Blue Group, and the Green Group.  Each group MUST stay in their respective corrals; it is THE LAW!  There are security people to remind you of this.

Additionally, to safely cater to a start of over 42,000 runners and stagger the start times, there are three separate waves: 9:40 AM, 10:00 AM, and 10:20 AM.  Each start time consists of roughly 1/3 the runners, or 14,000 runners.  Luckily, I am in Wave 1, so my start time is 9:40 AM.  Better to get this race over with sooner rather than later, I thought.

8:40 AM – Avoiding FMAO (Freezing My Ass Off)

While waiting in my fenced-in corral, my sole goal at this time was to avoid freezing my ass off.  There was still another hour until the race start and at this time, the temperature was in the low 40s.  This is where listening to someone’s good advice really came into play.  My friend Bob used his previous marathon experience to suggest that I bring a big plastic leaf bag to keep myself warm and dry in.  Thank God I listened to him!  I had my precious leaf bag with me to use and use it I did!  I enveloped much of my body in this Plastic Palace, which prevented FMAO big time.  I ripped a hole in the top of this bag and every once in a while, I’d pop my head out like a prairie dog just to see what was going on around me.

9:15 AM – Escape Artists

Access to my corral was now closed and we started to slowly move towards the start line.  A number of runners who did not heed the incessant warnings blaring out from all the loudspeakers to enter their corrals early were now denied entry and were desperately watching us from the other side of the fence.  Many tried and succeeded to escape from No-Man’s Land by dangerously scaling the fence onto our side.  There wasn’t enough security and the one security guy who was in charge tried in vain to deny their tumultuous leaps.  Hey, this race cost each of us $149 and many runners came here from thousands of miles away with Marathon Dreams.  Nothing was going to stop them from achieving their dream.

9:25 AM – Adrenaline Time

To illustrate how one feels at this moment, think about the most important event you had in your life such as getting married or having a baby.  Now go back in time by about 15 minutes; this is how I felt.  We all were now lined up behind the start line with one of the biggest bridges in the World with its arms stretched out ready to welcome us across.  However, there were still 15 minutes to go.  The waiting.  The thinking.  The nervousness.  The excitement.  You want to start already and focus on running your race, but those 15 minutes…. damn!

There was a young runner next to me dressed from head-to-toe in military clothing, boots and all.  I’m sure he’s a military guy; maybe a veteran of the Iraqi War.  On his back was a military backpack loaded with 50 pounds of stuff.  I thought to myself, “If this guy can go this distance dressed like that, then boy, I have no excuse”.

9:46 AM – Crossing The Start Line

Finally the cannon goes off and the race has officially started.  I am somewhere in the back with a few thousand runners in front of me.  Waiting for all these runners to leave, It will take about another six minutes before I actually cross the start line.  Finally, runners around me are beginning to pump their legs up and down the way you see pistons in a car engine start moving.  I am now moving!  Six minutes later, I run across the start line sensor.  The D-Tag antenna tied to my sneaker laces immediately triggers my personal start time with this sensor.  My race has officially started and I just began my participation of the 40th running of the New York City Marathon!

9:46:05 AM – The Watch Situation (aka: WTF?!)

As soon as I cross the start line, I start my pacer watch.  This watch is intended to pace me throughout the course, for pacing is everything when running a marathon.  If you go out too fast, you are doomed to burn out during the second half because a Marathon literally drains the energy out of you.  Keeping a steady pace that your body is accustomed to will ensure that you will finish strong without burning out.

Three seconds after starting my pacer watch, I notice that the pacer screen is reading “00:00”… I forgot to calibrate the damn watch with the satellites in the sky!  I had to make a split decision: to run blindly the entire race without knowing my pace, or to stop for a minute and calibrate the watch.  Luckily my logical mind took over and I decided to calibrate.  This required me to stop running entirely, pull over to the concrete median of the Bridge, place my watch on the median, and reboot the watch while it calibrated itself.  Unfortunately, this requires the watch to be PERFECTLY STILL, so that is why I couldn’t do this while running.  While it was calibrating, I briefly glanced at the 500+ runners passing me by while the Bridge was shaking from their collective weight.  Some of them were probably thinking, “What’s wrong with this guy just standing there after the start line?”

As soon as pacer screen turned back on, I knew that the watch was now ready for business.  While I probably lost about 1 minute from my race time, I knew that this was a worthy sacrifice for I now can see my pace for the remainder of the race.

Mile 2 – Disrespecting the Great Italian Explorer Giovanni da Verrazano

After passing Mile 1 in the middle of the Verrazano Bridge, which is THE highest point in the entire Marathon, I felt like I was on top of the World.  Thank God that I made that decision about my pacer watch early on because I ended up consulting my watch 1,000 more times throughout the race.

After I pass Mile 1, which is the top of the bridge parabola, I start experiencing the downhill, which is a great feeling.  After passing the second span of the Bridge, I notice a whole bunch of runners peeing off the side of the roadway.  I’m saying to myself this derogatory thought, “Look at those guys just peeing in front of everyone!  What’s their problem?!”.  With all apologies to the great Italian explorer with whom this great bridge is named for, Giovanni da Verrazano, I feel the urge myself and end up participating in this pee-fest.  Luckily, that will be the first and last time that I pee DURING the Marathon.  After that, I will  learn that my body needs every drop of liquid that it can get.

Going across the Bridge, it is very quiet; only a few thousand runners all focused on their pace.  As soon as I enter the off ramp onto 92nd Street, there’s a sea of humanity just looking at all the runners in awe.  Passing this humanity, I suddenly hear loud cheering combined with hand clapping.  There are many runners around me, but I feel that everyone is cheering only for me and I’m sure every runner feels the same way.  The excitement gets overwhelming for me; my pace just dropped down from a 9:00 to 8:20.  I must keep to my pace, which is 9:00.  I quickly put the brakes on and slow myself down closer to a 9:00 pace.  This will happen to me dozens of more times until Mile 21.

Miles 3 – 7 High Five Time

After making a few twists and turns after leaving the Verrazano, I finally find myself on 4th Avenue staring at thousands of cheering spectators on both sides of the street.  “Boy, they certainly make it hard for a serious runner to focus on this race”, I said to myself.  It was impossible for me to entirely focus, so I did what a number of other runners were doing: which is to have fun.  Once in Sunset Park, the streets were lined with miles of little Hispanic kids with their hands up in the air waiting for runners to “high five” them.  There was a German runner near me slapping every single little hand, so I decided to join in.  Every time I high-fived a kid, it was as if some super hero touched them with their powers.  This was a great feeling, but I realized that if I continued doing this, I would be wasting my energy, so no more high-fiving for me!

Mile 8 – Angels from Above

After running on the straightaway of 4th Avenue for several miles, I started to get a little bored and lonely, which is ironic since I was running amongst thousands of runners.  As soon as I reached Mile 8, the point where runners from the Orange, Blue and Green Groups merge in front of the famous Williamsburg Saving Bank building in Fort Greene, I heard people screaming out my name from behind.  I turn around to see my running pals Alan and Jerry frantically jumping up and down shouting out my name.  They were spectators and they were doing a very good job motivating me.  This was just the boost I needed to help me get through the rest of Brooklyn and Queens.

Mile 9 – A Gorilla in my Mist

While running through Fort Greene, a gorilla passes me.  No, not a real gorilla, but a runner dressed from head to toes in a gorilla costume.  Besides this gorilla, there will be a series of runners dressed as clowns, an eiffel tower, a waiter carrying a bottle of wine on a tray, and other interesting assortment of characters.  Hey, we’re in New York, what do you expect?

Mile 15 – The 59th Street Bridge

After running in Brooklyn up Bedford Avenue, Greenpoint Avenue, then crossing the halfway point across a little bridge into Queens, it was only a matter of time before I entered the 59th Street Bridge (aka: The Queensboro Bridge).  If there’s any other part of the NYC Marathon that tests one’s mettle, THIS IS IT!  Boys enter this bridge on one end and get spat out as men on the other.   The bridge is only a mile long, but that 1/2 mile incline on the Queens side tests you.  Runners all around me were desperately trying to scale that incline while keeping their pace intact, a feat that became obviously unreachable to the majority of runners around me since they were slowing down or just walking it.  Don’t forget, we already have 15 miles under our belts and now we are forced to deal with this cruel and relentless man-made mountain called the 59th Street Bridge.

Mile 19 – It’s Bob!

After the 59th Street Bridge, the next major challenge was 1st Avenue.  This is now Mile 16 and with some fatigue starting to set in, this avenue seems to go on forever!  The one redeeming quality of this part of the race are the hundreds of thousands of exhilarated race fans lining the entire length of this 4-mile corridor and the non-stop cheering one hears throughout.

At Mile 19, I pass by a runner who I think I know.  It’s Bob!  He’s the guy I trained with this whole year.  We were supposed to run this race together from the start and pace each other, but since we started this race in separate groups, that wasn’t going to be possible.  I now wanted to run the remainder of this race with Bob, but he told me to go ahead of him.  I found out later that he was injured with a stress fracture in his foot, but he still valiantly pushed on to the end of the race.  You go Bob!

Mile 20 – The South Bronx

I run across a small bridge into the South Bronx.  As I cross the bridge, I see bagpipe players playing traditional Irish music.  Yes, only in New York would you hear live bagpipe music playing in the South Bronx!

Mile 21 – Kicking it up a Notch

I am now at Mile 21.  I’ve been a good boy so far and listened to advice given to me by my Jedi Master Mario who stressed that I do “9-Minute Miles”.  Now that I am finished running 75% of this race with a lot of energy still in me, I decide to kick it up a notch and pick up my speed.  My pacer watch drops down to an 8:35 pace and I plan on making this my new pace for the remainder of the race.

Mile 22 – The Return of the Angels

As I pass Mile 22 and approach Marcus Garvey Park in Harlem, I see my friends Alan and Jerry again.  This time it seems that they are screaming my name even louder than before.  I take a few seconds out of my run to give them each a big hearty high-five as I excitedly shout out to them in the most manly way possible.  This refuels my emotional battery and I possess this attitude, “Nothing can stop me now!”

2009 NYC Marathon

Miles 23 – 26 – Cramping my Style

I’m at Mile 23 and I’m running parallel to Central Park.  Soon I’ll be entering the Park itself.  I’m maintaining that 8:35 pace as I had started two miles earlier.  The prospect of me finishing this endeavor in three more miles at such a fast pace excites me to no end.  Many runners burn out by now.  This has so far been a textbook race for me.  The runners have thinned out, the street is narrower and the fans seem to be even more fervent than before.  What could go wrong?

I spoke too soon.  Like a race car blowing its tire during the final stretch of the Indianapolis 500, I blew my own tire.  More specifically, I developed an excruciatingly painful cramp in my lower right calf, so painful that I had to stop my running entirely.  I remained frozen like a statue for a few seconds and waited for the pain to subside.  As I did this, I tried to start running again while shaking out the pain.  I so desperately wanted to maintain my great pace, but this cramp thing got in the way.

For the next three miles, this cramp routine repeated itself several more times and of course without warning.  I was now at Mile 26.  I just entered the Southwest corner of Central Park with only 2/10 of a mile to go.  The finish line is only moments away…

Mile 26.1 – God Help Me

I’m at my 8:35 pace again for the eighth time and I can actually see the precious finish line only 100-some-odd yards away.  Just when I’m savoring the thought of completing my Marathon Destiny, one more leg cramp rears its ugly head.  I’m limping again and holding my hand on the bad leg while reaching out towards the finish line with my other hand.  I quickly shake out the cramp and pick up my speed determined to cross the finish with a newly-found fury.

Mile 26.2 – The Finish Line

I was so excited at the prospect of breaking my goal of four hours that as I passed the finish line, I held my hands up high with an animalistic look in my face, the look of a hungry carnivore that had just eaten a 26.2-mile race.

I found out later that day that I had achieved my goal of finishing in under four hours by completing it in 3:56:58.  A personal best!

Mile 26.2+ – The Death March

After passing the finish line and catching my breath from running for four hours, a finisher’s medal was immediately placed around my neck, then a silver mylar blanket was wrapped around my body to keep whatever body heat was left from escaping.  A post-race photo was taken of me, then a goody bag full of fruit, nuts, snacks and water was placed in my hand.

Just when I thought that the Marathon was over, it wasn’t.  For the next mile or so, temporary fences were placed after the finish line that forced all of the finishers to continue walking another mile or so.  This walk is known as the Death March, for immediately after finishing the Marathon, all finishers are required to walk that extra mile in order to escape the confines of the fences.  Just looking at the hundreds of runners slowly limping along this route all wrapped up in their heat-saving mylar blankets, you can see the word ‘pain’ etched on their faces.

5:15 PM – Ice Bath Time

As soon as I got home, there was just one more torturous activity that I needed my body to undergo: It was ice bath time!  No, I wasn’t filling my bathtub full of ice to keep cans of Budweiser cold for a party; I was doing it to keep my legs cold.  Submerging one’s legs under ice cold water and ice cubes for 20 minutes helps lessen the effects of post-race swelling.  As soon as I submerged my legs under this ice-cold water, a shock of pain bolted up through my body.  From talking to my friend Gus, I knew that this ice bath was a necessary evil that would help with a good post-race recovery.

It took me an entire week for me to fully recuperate and run again.  While I was running with my friends from the Staten Island Athletic Club (SIAC), I talked about the idea of someday doing this Marathon Thing again.

Special Thanks to Mario and Gus for giving me the right advice for my Marathon training.

Thanks to…

Bob for picking me up in the morning.

Alan and Jerry for cheering me on at Miles 8 and 22.

Uncle Richard for taking my picture at Mile 7.

Maria for holding onto the sweatshirt I threw at her at Mile 5.

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