NYC Half Marathon -- 13.1 Miles of Hell

It can't get much cooler than running the closed-to-traffic streets of NYC. When I signed up for the New York City Half back in March I was thrilled. I was so disappointed last year when I couldn't do it because of my injury. I'd had so much fun in 2006 and 2007, and I missed the course, which is a loop around Central Park, then out on to 7th Avenue, through Times Square, and down the West Side Highway to Battery Park. It's truly something, seeing NYC that way, runners on the streets instead of cars. Makes you look at the city in a whole different way.

My goal was to run it in under two hours. I'd been preparing both mentally and physically for months. And, I had Mariana, who is faster than me, pushing me along during runs. So, I thought I'd be more than ready on August 16th to cross the finish line between 1:50:00 - 1:55:00.

What I did not plan for was heat. And humidity. At 6:00a.m. when I set out to meet Mariana it was already 78 degrees. The two mile jog I took to get to her left me drenched with sweat. And, at the starting line we found out that there was a heat advisory. The announcer suggested that maybe this not be the race you strive to get a personal record. I heard him, and I was fully prepared to listen, but when the race started I felt my legs go a little faster than they should have been. My strategy is to run slower at the start and get progressively faster, but for some reason -- nerves, trying to keep up with Mariana, not being able to forget the goal -- I was too fast for the weather, so by mile three I was uncomfortable, and by mile four I was ready to go home. Overheated, I overcompensated by drinking too much water and Gatorade, so by mile five I had painful cramps. I begged Mariana to save herself and leave me to my misery, which she finally did at mile six.

On 7th Avenue things got a little better. The cramps went away, but I still felt terrible. My body just did not want to be there at all. At one point, as I was passing 57th Street, I thought to myself "What would happen if I didn't finish? Who would care?" I have never not completed a race, which in the past gave me a sense of pride. But, at this race I thought the sensible thing to do would be to quit. I kept going, though, and looked out for Kirk, Abby, Justin and Andy, whi were at mile eight. Their cheers and smiles disappeared upon catching sight of me, the ashen, beat up runner who was not happy at all.

Down the West Side Highway with less than four miles to go I tried to speed up, but it was no use. I pumped my arms the way Abby tells us to in class, but it didn't work. So, I decided if I can't change my body I can change my mind. My mom always says "Put a smile on your face and a song in your heart", so that's what I did. I sang to myself, told myself jokes, noted the runners around me who slogged through, kinda hating the ones who passed me. At mile 11ish I saw the gang again, but this time I put a big smile on my face. They said I looked better.

Finally, mile 12 and I was already past the two hour mark. At one point, I think mile 10, I had it in my head that maybe I'd still make my record of 2:00, but I got over that when at mile 11 I was at 1:52. Again, I tried to go a little faster, but who was I kidding? The dream was over; it was over at mile three! I crossed the finish in 2:12:something, disappointed, but happy to be done.

What is the lesson here? Well, for one, I've got to be flexible in my thinking. Once I knew the weather was going to be an issue I should have slowed way down. Second, I should not have overdone the water and Gatorade in the beginning of the race. That was a huge mistake. Third, I need to quit my job and hire a team of trainers so I can meet my 1:50 goal. I watched Paula Radcliffe run her 5:24 per mile pace in the same weather and she was fine. Clearly, I need to do what's she's doing!