Baby, We WERE Born to Run

Check out this NYT video of the marathon course in three and a quarter minutes.

I was going to wait until some photos were up online of the race before I did my blog post, but then realized I have so much to say that I'll have to do a couple. This one will serve as a recap of my race. It's LONG, so prepare yourself.

After a surprisingly decent night's sleep the TNT bus ride to Staten Island was fast and painless. When we got there, it was FREEZING. To make matters worse, I completely soaked my sneakers and socks. Not the ones that I was wearing, but the ones I was supposed to RUN IN. And since I'm a crazy person I took this as a bad omen. So I sat in a pile of hay at the marathon village with a stack of napkins and the corner of a running buddy's snuggie to try and dry them off. Oops.

The marathon is broken out by Wave, Color, and Corral. Mike was Wave 1, Green, and I can't remember the corral but the point is he started at 9:40, I started at 10:40. He left to check his bag and said he'd be right back. As time ticked by I started to wonder where he was. Then I realized he probably had to go to the start and got really sad/panicked I didn't get to say good bye or good luck. Then I thought "hey, maybe I should check my phone!" lo and behold a text from him saying he was in his corral and couldn't get out and needed to de-chafe with Body Glide. I booked it over there to find him at the back of his corral behind a chain link fence. We said goodbye through the fence. It was like he was a POW or something. After exchanging the body glide and a kiss through the chain, he was off. An hour later, so was I. As I waited to start, a plane circled overhead carrying the message "Breathe deeply and appreciate the moment."

I gotta tell you there is something really exciting about the gun going off to start each wave of the race, and seeing all the people rushing across the bridge. It was SO. EXCITING. Check out this video:


Anyway as I said it was freezing. The way to deal with this is to pile on the layers, which you throw away as you warm up. I didn't take my layers off until three miles in. The Verrazano was unbelievably cold with wind whipping from all directions. But all of this did not bother me. What bothered me was the pain in my knee. The pain which started last Tuesday. The pain which I thought was just one of the typical pains you get while reducing your mileage. It was there. And I freaked out.

All I could do was hope that it would go away as I warmed up. But by mile 7 I was three ibuprofens deep and limping. I didn't walk, but I ran-limped pretty slow. I wasn't sure I'd be able to finish. I could feel my running tights constricting my right knee because it was swelling so much. To take my mind off it I just focused on the various checkpoints where people cheering would be. First up was Ariel and Jackie, who I totally missed sadly! Then, my friend Ed from work, who I also missed. Then, Tim, Flynn, Racine, and Court, who I totally missed. Then co-worker Cathy. Guess what? Missed her too. Apparently Flynn, etc were screaming my name but in my oblivion I totally didn't hear them. Thank you guys all for coming out, it means so much!

Luckily I saw Regina and Brittany and it lifted my spirits. That, and a cover band playing Badlands by Springsteen. We weren't supposed to do much cheering or high fiving to save energy, but come on, Badlands? I definitely threw my arms up and sang along.

Anyway Brooklyn was pretty flat, and my favorite part of the race. The music was great, the crowds were phenomenal, and even though I was in a lot of pain, it was fun. In a way, the pain helped me relax, because I threw my time goal of 4:35 out the window and just enjoyed the ride. Then at about mile 8 or 10 maybe my knee pain just melted away. Gone. I have no idea how, but it just went away. My sister says it was probably my body kicking into overdrive, survival mode. I think Jesus must have taken the wheel.

Queens was uneventful. The biggest challenge of the race was upon me though: the Queensboro bridge. B-R-U-T-A-L. I thought the incline of the bridge was never going to end. I kept staring at the bars on the bridge and the pavement across from me to see when it would graciously start curving DOWNWARD. It felt like it would never end. And when the uphill did end, the downhill was just as bad. Everyone thinks downhills are great, which they are on a 4 or 5 mile run. When you are running long distances the impact of heavier footfalls from the downhill is very difficult. Thankfully, the absolute ROAR of the crowd going into Manhattan made it allllll worth it.

Going up 1st ave wasn't bad. I saw so many people: Joanna, Kathryn from my old job, I almost took someone out to see my friend Nicole who was handing out sponges at mile 17. Then I saw my peeps. My parents, my sister, my aunts, my friends. It's amazing what that kind of support can do. It literally charged me forward. And the SIGNS THEY HAD!!! How completely bad ass. Check them out further down.

And then I saw my coach, Felicia, who I have emailed practically daily since I started training and have come to depend on. She ran with me for awhile, which was awesome. Then came the Willis Ave bridge into the Bronx, where Coach Steve reminded me to focus on my upper body and ignore the explosive discomfort in my hips. The Bronx is where the so-called "Wall" is, but it didn't feel like it. You're in the Bronx for a split second, but during that time a DJ was playing "Empire State of Mind" and I rounded the corner just as the chorus kicked on (New Yoooooork/concrete jungle where dreams are made of). And yes, I started to cry. But only for a second because I couldn't spare the energy or hydration.

Going back into Manhattan was the hardest part. Fifth ave in the 100s and around my work, Mount Sinai, is a brutal, gradual incline. The head coach, Christine, helped me focus on check points "just gotta get to 102nd street" then "just gotta get to 90th street." Thankfully my angel of a friend Kristine was there cheering and jumped into the race and ran with me until Central Park South. My family and friends had made it over to 5th by then too. By the way, Central Park South has an incline that no one mentions. It's tiny, but feels enormous at the finish of a marathon. I walked over there again this week and didn't notice it, but boy was it there on Sunday. It's so weird to me but looking back this stretch of the race seems kind of like a dream, a blur. I thought I would feel emotional going into Central Park because that's where I did all my training. But instead it was just survival mode. Just. Get. Done.

And I did. As I mentioned before we did some hill practice training on the finish line of the marathon. Which, did I mention, finishes on A HILL???? The funny thing was I didn't even notice this hill. The second I turned back into the park to finish I used what energy I had left to gun it to the finish, threw my hands up for the camera, and then cried when I got my medal. Then, I tried not to pass out in the overwhelming crowd of finishers trying to get out of Central Park.

What a race though. I am completely overwhelmed by the support of my friends and family who came out to cheer me on. And overwhelmed by the generosity of the crowd in screaming my name and rooting me along. And scared by seeing people literally drop around me as I ran, by seeing a woman lurched forward over a puddle of blood. And in the hour it took to get out of Central Park, by seeing a woman on the ground next to me getting her chest pumped by EMTs. The best word I can use to describe this day was INTENSE. But awesome.

By the way, I spelled my name "Chris-Tee" on my shirt so people would say it right instead of Christine. Instead what I got was a lot of "Go Chris-TEEEEEE!!!" which cracked me up every time.

This was such a moving experience. I wouldn't say it was AMAZING or changed my life forever....but I am so proud and so emotional about the whole thing. and I can't believe I did it. I really can't. I don't care about my time (4:55) except when people ask, I feel the need to qualify it by telling them about my knee. But really I don't care. I got that medal. And I wore that medal all over the city on Sunday night, with congrats from everyone I saw in the subway and on the street. New Yorkers have a bad reputation but the outpouring on Sunday was amazing. And Yes, I wore my medal when I was home recuperating on Monday too :o)

I think my absolute favorite part of the day was walking into Rattle and Hum, where Mike and I had a post-gathering, and having the entire bar, not just our friends, start cheering and applauding. That was the highest point of the day, without question. Incredible feeling.

We salute YOU, Alisa Bayes :o)
Notice the beer theme in these signs: the Dogfish Head logo, run toward some "Sweet Action" in reference to Six Point...they hung up the signs on the wall below the bottle list at Rattle and Hum :o)
And in honor of this here blog, Aimee made the awesome sign at the end: "Run Tramp Run" YESSSSS!!!


The rest of the night consisted of me being afraid to sit down, drinking ginger ale, then shifting to beer, and hopping in a limo. That's a story for another day :o)
Stay tuned for my final post...