New York Adventure

Our New York Adventure - The Marathon and the City

Many people have asked about “the story” from our trip to New York. I’ve tossed together my impressions of our latest adventure. It’s incredibly long and self indulgent, but you might enjoy it. If it becomes to much of a chore to read just skim and look at the pictures. Who knows, you might enjoy reading it?

Our New York Adventure

Surviving the trip from the airport: Apparently you have to be an ex-formula one race car driver to qualify to drive airport shuttle vans. We get our Super Shuttle pickup at Newark Airport and roar off toward Manhattan with a Andy (frickin) Granatelli at the wheel. Everyone quickly buckles their seatbelts after about 15 seconds of weaving in and out of traffic and cutting off other drivers. We all get a little religion and say a prayer that we make it to NYC alive. We have a nervous conversation with a tall athletic sun beaten 49 year old Welsh Expatriate living for the past 24 years in Portugal running his 3rd marathon and a couple from London there to watch their son complete his 1st. The English couple had been up north to Vermont to experience the fall colours only to find all the color was on the ground. The leave had already fallen off the trees.

The Lap of Luxury: We’ve booked three nights in the lap of luxury in the historic Essex House on Central Park South. It’s a lavish art deco hotel built in 1931 that recently underwent a 90 million dollar renovation. Rates start at $649 a night. Our room has no view room no pool, no Jacuzzi tub, and we don’t get a complimentary breakfast. Luxury in Midtown Manhattan ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. It does have designer décor, a 42 inch LCD TV, a computerized mini-bar, and a safe. I open the door on the mini bar and take out a strange looking container of clear liquid. It’s water, then I read the mini bar instructions. First the water I just looked at is $6.50, and removing the bottle incurs an automatic charge to your room. I quickly return it hoping I got it back before I purchased the most expensive water in the world. Our fancy LCD TV doesn’t work despite our best efforts at trying to get the thing turned on. That is quickly fixed after we report it to the concierge. We leave and walk the two blocks down to Columbus Circle, the Time Warner building and then through the south end of Central Park, past the finish line, Tavern on the Green and the bronze of Fred Lebow, the race director who died a few years ago from brain cancer after finally running his own race with 9 time winner Grete Waitz. Grete is on this years finishing medal.

We are next door to the exclusive, formally men only, NY Athletic Club. You have to be a member or be sponsored by a member to get in. You also must have a jacket and tie or equivalent “casual business attire” for a woman to grace their foyer. Gym shoes denim clothing of any kind or exposed mid-drifts are strictly forbidden. Apparently you can actually wear athletic cloths and gym shoes in the 21 story facility, but only on designated floor reserved for such behavior. Don’t worry about getting a membership. There are none available, you have to know someone, be sponsored and have a truck load of money.

Essex View from Central Park

Runners Expo: The next morning we hop the Marathon Shuttle bus and head for the Jarvis Center to pickup my race packet. We quickly learned the credo for efficient operation for persons running the NYC Marathon. Just find a line of people go to the end and stand in it. Something good must be at the end. I’m hoping for a free beer or maybe a lap dance. I was disappointed that most just had your race packet or a ticket for carbo loading dinner at the end. One booth had a talk by Peter Reid, Tim DeBoom (past ironman Hawaii winners), Josh or Jason somebody a top US marathoner, and the woman one legged marathon record holder. They are all pumping Power Bars Gels and such except the one legged gal. She was nervous had no idea what she was going to eat or do on race day. None of the rest of the crew was actually racing on Sunday. I got a poster signed and my picture taken with Deana Kastor, the premier US woman marathoner, Olympic bronze medal winner in 2004, US trails marathon winner in 2008, and winner of both the London and Chicago marathons. She’s one tough woman. She was stung by a bee in the back of the throat 100 meters after the start of the World Cross-Country Championships in Portugal. Despite blacking out and falling during the 8k race, she got up and finished in 12th.

Greg with Deana Kastor 2004 Olympic Bronze medalist

We get our picture taken and are told if we text in a particular number our pictures will be shown in Time Square on the Asics Billboard. We’re too pooped to walk down to time square to view it personally but trust that it did appear as promised.
Greg and Joy Asics Picture as shown in Time Square Nov. 3rd 2008
Times Square Asics display where our picture was displayed

Running in Central Park: Joy and I do an easy 2 mile run over the last two miles of the marathon course. She tries to get me to run more but I balk like an ornery horse and refuse to do anything but walk after two miles. Perhaps I was influenced by the sad looking horses dragging tourist through the park on carriage rides, or I was just keeping to my anal schedule. The two mile run gave me exactly 1,300 miles of running since January in preparation for the marathon.

NY 027 Fred Lebow Bronze at Finish Line NY

Carbo Loading dinner at the Tavern on the Green: Joy stood in line to get a ticket to join me for my “complimentary” carbo loading dinner at the famous and highest grossing restaurant/bar in New York. They attached tents to the outside of the building to accommodate the waves of hungry marathoners. We stood in line for about ½ hour waiting for our wave to be let in. We were entertained by a juggler on stilts paid to keep the hungry crowds from rioting. Dinner included hot and cold pasta salad rolls and free Coors Lite. At last free beer! I was saved, my vacation complete. My unfounded exuberance as quickly dulled when I realized I had a race to run in the morning and could not take real advantage of the situation. We kicked ourselves later when we realized there was really no limit on how much beer you could have taken. Plus they gave you fancy Barilla Pasta nylon grocery shopping bags for all the other free stuff they were giving away. I figured later that if you had removed all the promotional crap and carefully stacked the cans of beer you could have squeezed about 42 beers in each of Barilla grocery bags. That’s 82 beers. That would go a long way on deadening the post marathon pain I expected to endure after I’d completed this ridiculously long race.

Race Morning: Wake up at 4:00 AM dress and head downstairs to catch a cab to NY Public Library staging area to catch a bus to Stanton Island start. I share a cab with a guy a 50+ guy from Memphis and the other a heavily accented “Jersey Boy” of about 45. The cab driver asks which one among us is going to finish first. The “Jersey Boy, spouts off that he is. I find out later that I’m the only one who got in with a qualifying time, the other two are marathon virgins who got in through the lottery. When it comes time to pay the fair, who conveniently has no small bills, the cocky Jersey Boy. Memphis and I split the cab fair. I toss him a 10 for the $15 dollar fair and tell him to keep it. Memphis, in true southern hospitality won’t hear of it and graciously give me back the correct change. Two hundred diesel spewing chartered buses are on hand to shuttle nervous runners to the start. We start to head toward the busses and one of New York’s finest tells us that the line starts around the back side of the library. This is a huge library taking up a very large Midtown Manhattan city block. These are the first buses leaving and everyone appears to have had the idea of getting there early. The line moves quickly and before we know it we’ve circled the library and boarded the bus. It’s funny how long the bus ride seems to take, especially when you realize you have to run all the way back to Central Park via an even longer route that the bus took.

Greg Pre Race Fashion Show

It’s a breezy 38 degrees at Fort Wadsworth State Park at the base of the Verrazano bridge. By now it’s 5:30 AM, luckily I’m in the first wave that starts with the professional men (blue wave), elite runners (orange wave), and then my wave the green “locally competitive runners” all starting at 9:40. It’s the first year of wave starts which should help thin the crowd a bit. We’ve got 4 and a half hours to contemplate the daunting task ahead. Despite running 10 marathons I’m still intimidated by the distance. I lay shivering on the ground and try to nap garbed in every spare piece of clothing I felt I could donate to New York charities. I was accompanied by 38,000 fellow nervous runners a couple thousand volunteer in one of 3 or 4 separate areas with tents, free tea coffee bagels and Gatorade, plus over 1,000 port-a-potties. The worlds largest urinal had been abandoned this year. In prior years a open 280 foot piece of PVC pipe cut in half was laid down and men and women alike would stand or squat over the pipe to take a leak. Fred Lebow, the past race director was quite proud of this ingenious yet simple arrangement. Apparently many, including the new race director, didn’t share his enthusiasm for the system and increased the number of port-a-potties to a number that ensured short or non-existent lines. You non-runners may pooh-pooh this essential ingredient of a well run race, but my running buddies know its critical nature. Lack of facilities can reach crisis proportions and the local flora would suffer greatly if the needs were underestimated.

I lay on the cold ground and waited for nature to run its course. I usually visit the little general’s quarters a ridiculous 3 to up to 9 times before a race to make a deposit. Race morning, in spite of several cups of tea, my bowels were holding fast to all the free pasta and beer I drank the night before. This began to concern me greatly, but there was nothing I could do to push things along. The sun rose and the air finally began to warm. Is this too much information:

The wind was blowing quite a bit with gusts of about 20 mph. The great masses huddled like homeless vagabonds in the tents and behind trucks trying to stay warm yet converse energy. With roughly 1/3 of the participants being from over 100 different counties you heard announcements on the loud speakers in 5 different languages. I try to move to a vantage point to see the sun rise but am quickly admonished from a police car loud speaker to not go any further. I comply not wanting to run with a gun shot wound to slow me down.

I hear an announcement for the green wave to move to the starting corals. I head for the port-a-potty hoping for the best. Ten minutes later I hear the green wave start is now closed. If you’re not in the corals you will have to start with the next wave – CRAP! It’s still 40 minutes until the start! The next wave doesn’t go off until 10:00 AM. I shuffle toward what I assume is the coral area where it is indeed fenced off. I see a kind volunteer is letting in athletes with green bibs numbers through the fence. I’m saved. I join the 12,000 or so in my wave and shuffle toward the bridge as helicopters hover overhead. I can make out loud speakers with music and dignitaries speeches. I’m glad I can’t make out what a bunch of blowhard politician have to say two days before the national elections.

The start: I hear the gun for the wheel chair athletes and later for the professional women who start at 9:20. Everyone begins stripping off the several layers of cloths and pitches them onto the ground or the provided boxes or huge dumpster. A runner behind me start to play his trumpet that he’s brought along and apparently plans to run the entire race with. Several men stop between parked buses to relieve themselves. Now is when I remember sage advice given to me by a NYC veteran runner. If you are on the second deck of the Verrazano bridge, stay toward the center. If you run toward the outside you’ll think it is raining. It’s not, you are getting pissed on by the elite runners on the top deck as they stop and pee over the side realizing they really shouldn’t have listened to all that, “make sure you drink enough before the start” nonsense.

I can make out the National Anthem being played among the mayhem. The howitzer goes off and we begin to shuffle toward the start. Frank Sinatra’s New York New York is blasting on the PA system. A fire boat is spraying water below us the sun is shinning and everyone is pumped to be off. It only takes a couple of minutes to reach the pad that records each of our official individual start times via the chips on our shoes with a chip from the pad. There are so many people crossing at one time the timing pads are letting out a continuous high pitched screech. Just a few steps later and I can actually run. I quickly move to the center of the bridge and hope for no “rain”. A stiff head wind is blowing and it is about 44 degrees but feels colder. I tuck behind various runners as I maneuver through the crowd. Before I know it I hit the first mile mark at the center of the 2 plus mile long bridge at 8:43, about 20 seconds faster that the elevation adjusted split times I got printed out at the expo for my goal time of 3:36. I’ve got the printout in the pocket of my shorts. I remember I’m supposed to hit the second mile down the other side of the bridge in 7:43, I hit it at 7:05. So I’m already a minute faster than my goal pace. I dodge cloths in the road that people are shedding in droves. By the end of the bridge I ditch the long sleeved shirt and stocking hat. The head wind has diminished considerably after exiting the bridge. We hit the first water stop at a little beyond two miles. I down the first of what will be roughly 25 cups of lemon lime Gatorade. The road is buried in cups and slick with sticky Gatorade at every water stop, getting progressively worse at the miles click by.

There is at least one band playing per mile of the race. I refer to them as the good the bad and the ugly, some are very good, some not so much, and some were pretty terrible, or perhaps that is the grunge sound they were going for. The miles just fly by through Brooklyn I’m continuing to run well below the 8:12 min/mile pace I need for my goal time. The ethnic area blur past, I know what ethnic group predominates by the music and the faces where enthusiastic cheers go out to the Italian, and Mexican runners. There are lots of runner with Obama on there shirts. And I hear a lot of Obama shouts as we run. I do spot on runner with a McCain shirt. I’m hoping she isn’t lynched before the finish. This is definitely Obama country.

Mile 10: I’m starting to feel the distance. I hit mile 11, the Bedford area which is prominently a Hasidic Jewish area. Men are clad in traditional black robes, hats and the women are dressed in black as well with their heads covered. None of them cheer for us and they avoid eye contact with the runners. There are a few Hasidic Jewish runners but I didn’t see a Jogging Jews, or Synagogue Striders teams, and the community support of such a secular activity has still to take hold despite the past race directors effort to bring his fellow jews into the running community.

Halfway: I hit the half in 1:44:00 as we cross the Pulaski Bridge going into Queens. I begin to realize I’m going to need to back off a bit to avoid bonking before the finish. I come up on four or five runners with orange 3:30 Pacers on their bibs. They are there to help people make that goal. I figure that’s great just stick to them and I’ll make my goal. We hit the Queensboro Bridge over the East River and head into Manhattan and the 16 mile mark. Joy was going to jog over to mile 16 and try and spot me in the crowd. I told her if it hit 45 degrees I would take my shirt off so she might be able to spot me in the crowd. I figured there wouldn’t be many nut balls running shirtless in those temps, 50ish skinny balding men on the other hand made up about 1/3 of the field. I stripped my shirt off and wrap it around my waist tucking it into my shorts. People start yelling hey naked guy and the like. There is a wall of cheering spectators and I scan the crowd for Joy. At one point I think I hear her yell Go Greg! Later I find I must have been hallucinating. She never did pick me out of the crowd. I pass some guy in a huge rubber President Bush mask, and shortly after Bunny Man for Obama and then a cross dresser in a frilly dress, big blonde wig and fake boobs. It’s not a pink tutu like the guy in Boston but close. Joy gets pictures of these guys but somehow misses me.
Greg on at mile 16 or so

We head down 1st Avenue for 4 miles crossing into the Bronx over Willis Ave Bridge run for a mile in the Bronx and then cross back over the river at the Madison Avenue Bridge at mile 21. The bridges make for a pretty hilly race. They are all high enough to sail cruise ships under so you gain at least 100 feet on each one. Now were on 5th Ave and I start looking for Central Park. We pass the Marcus Garvey park and I think we’ve reached the park and the final miles only to have my hopes dashed, the park is still a half mile away. We hit the northwest edge of the park at mile 22.5 and the miles are starting to take there toll on my legs. I’m seeing my mile split times start getting slower but there isn’t much I can do about it. We cut into the park at mile 24 and I know I’ll make my goal time. The 3:30 pacers are still around me so I figure I’m good but I start doing the math and don’t see how we’re going to hit 3:30.

Cross Dressing Finisher Bunny4Barrack.com

The finish: The hills in Central Park are taking extracting whatever reserves I have left. The huge boisterous crowds are yelling and it’s about all that keeps me going. I scan for Joy at mile 25, our other designated spot, but finding her in the crowds is hopeless. I’ve run this last mile past Columbus circle and toward the punishing uphill finish. I push the pace as much as I can but although I’ve increased the effort giving it all I’ve got but I’m just maintaining the pace. I hit the signs for 800 and then 400 yards. It is the longest half mile of the entire course. At 200 yards I finally see the grandstands and the finish. I remember to raise my arms, no small task at this point, as I cross the finish line and then I hit my watch 3:33:48. Of course the finish picture didn’t happen until I dropped my arms to hit the watch. So much for the posed finish shot. I feel kind of bad for the 3:30 goal runners who stuck with the pacers only to come up short of their goal. I’m elated and thrilled to have run fast enough to qualify for the Boston Marathon in Mid April. I’m also totally whooped.

I get my finishers medal draped around my neck by a volunteer and stop for the official race finish picture and a Mylar blanket. Then I try to cut over the fence in knowing my Hotel and Joy are just a block away. The police guarding the fence won’t tolerate it and chase me back. I guess they think I might poop on the grass or something. Volunteers cut the timing chip cut off my shoe then I make another attempt at a short cut to the hotel and that inviting bed that is beakoning me. I put my sweaty shirt back on and wrap the Mylar blanket around me and get in line and trudge with the rest of the exhausted masses the 1 ½ miles out the official exit around Columbus Circle and then back to the Hotel. I have a nice conversation with a fellow runner and Cop from Brooklyn who finished just a couple minutes ahead of me. I’m beat hungry and my legs ache in every conceivable location, Achilles, insteps, calves quads and hamstrings. No part went unpunished. Thankfully, no toenail lost or blisters to deal with.

Random people congratulate me on the street and are actually making eye contact. I walk past an bunch of Amish women doing an beautiful rendition of amazing grace, it is touching and a bit surreal. I hit the lobby of the Essex and look for Joy to no avail. I vacantly ask a bell hop where the phones are to call the room. It takes considerable concentration to remember our room number. I finally get to the room and lie down on the bed for a few minutes then stuff down some chocolates and some ibuprofen and run a hot bath to clean off the Gatorade, sweat and grit that accumulated over the many miles. Joy has a chicken wrap and other goodies there for me. I wolf down everything in site.

We lie around and watch the ABC broadcast of the race at 3:00 and then shuffle off to find dinner. I’m still starving. We stop at a close by bistro and I order the lobster ravioli. It comes and is so salty it is essentially impossible to eat. Joy tries a bite and agrees. For possibly the second time in my life I send a meal back. I have them bring me the spinach quiche. It’s lousy but edible. I eat it just the same hoping there isn’t too much spit on it from a overly sensative chef seeking retribution for critisizing his cuisine.

The next day: The next morning I knew what to expect. My legs are screamed to me, “What did you do to me? Now I’m going to make you pay!” And pay I did. Some people bounce back after a marathon and are out jogging the next day. I am not one of those people. Check out the video clip of me going down the stairs if you want a laugh.

We take the elevator downstairs and I think I’ll just have breakfast in the hotel restaurant. The waiter asks if I want orange juice, I think yeah that would be good and then I glance at the menu, $11.00 for orange juice. I’m about to get up in spite of the pain in my legs and find breakfast on the street. Joy orders tea and I think screw it I’m on vacation. I order tea to and then check the menu $8.50 for tea. In spite of the price we order breakfast and pay $64.00 for eggs and toast. We were doing our part to stimulate the economy.

We finish breakfast and walk over to Traven on the Green to buy a hat and get my finishers medal engraved with the time and my name. Everyone is shuffling around like zombies from The Night of the Living Dead. If misery loves company, I had a lot of company.

We fill our backpacks and grab our Barilla bags of freebees and check out of the Essex. I’m glad to see I didn’t get charged for the $6.50 water I admired from the mini-bar. We and head down to the Econo Lodge on 47th Ave and 8th Street, two blocks from time square. It is noisy but clean and our 42” LCD is now shrunk to a 19 inch that barely comes in. We’ve downsized to a double bed, but on the plus side we get complementary breakfast of bagels croissants cereal and tea. No Wall Street Journal, or NY Times delivered to our door in the morning, but we do get USA Today. If I listen hard from our two story room the size of the interior of a minivan I can hear the clicking of the 3 inch heals the high upkeep women wear as they head down the street amidst the shout and yell, sirens, horns and car traffic din that is never ending in the city that never sleeps.

We check in and stop by TKS to pick up tickets to Avenue Q, a tony award winning Broadway show that has been playing since 2004. It’s a bit raunchy with a bout of puppet sex, and some great songs like I’m a little racist. We have a great time.

Election Day: We thought what would be more appropriate than to visit the statue of Liberty on Election day, and so we did. We hopped the ferry to the big lady dressed in a the towel and then bounced over to Ellis Island for a little tour. I skipped most of the stairs as my legs still insisted on punishing me for the abuse I’d put them through. We did the Greyline Bus tour around downtown past ground zero, the empire state building Wall Street and the like. The election returns started coming in around 9:00 PM and we walked Time Square past the ABC broadcast center where the crowds were beginning to get boisterous and you could hear constant shouts of Obama. We watched election returns and could see on TV the Times Square crowds we had just been a part of. At 11:00 is was obvious that Obama would win and we faded off to sleep. At 11:30 PM when they officially called the race for Obama the place went nuts, with people yelling and horns honking.

Statue of Liberty Joy and Greg on election day 2008

Then next day we toured the Rockefeller Center which is owned by GE/NBC. We took pictures of the US Map on the ice rink with the red and blue states painted. We did the NBC Studio tour and got to visit and touch the desk from which Brian Williams announced the historic event and the studio for the Today Show. Joy and I volunteered to do a fake broadcast from a side studio where I was the weatherman and she was the anchor woman. I have a whole new respect for the whole green screen mirror image stuff folks do on TV. It’s much harder than it looks especially with half a dozen strangers looking on. No one else would volunteer. We tried to buy the DVD of our broadcast but their DVD burner wouldn’t work.

Time Square Day After the Election Rockefeller Center Election Map Nov 6th Obama Win

Other sites and sounds: We went up the Empire State building at night and took a few pictures.

Toured the United Nations, Museum of Modern Art, Radio Music Hall, the National History Museum, Grand Central Station, and saw Wintuk, a Cirque de Soli at the Madison Square Garden. We did a bus tour of Brooklyn and walked for hours in Central Park. We spent the last night outside of Newark across from the New Jersey State Prison for less than $100 a night with a King Bed. The good deals are all in Jersey.




It was a great trip and Vacation. We’ve done New York and may never return, but we can check this off our Bucket List.

If you read this completely to the end, you too should get a prize for enduring this e-mail Marathon. Your eyeballs may be a little sore for a couple of days but, don’t worry, they will be OK after a little rest.

Take care and thanks for your indulgence,

Greg