New York City Marathon Event Report
November 6, 2022
Marathons aren’t a particular fave of mine anymore. The older I get, the slower I get, and the longer runs seem more suited to being able to go a little slower and a little longer. That said, the dust had barely settled on the Heartland course before I was thinkin’ I still might have one good (read fast) marathon left in these old legs. But, I knew I needed to retrain the machine for an “up-tempo game” if I was gonna do anything in the Big Apple. I was running for the charity, Hope Story, which helps save Downs’ Syndrome babies, but I am always looking for where God will use me, and with a record number running the NYC Marathon (~55,000), I figured I’d find plenty to tell about my Jesus!
After a couple round-trips from Wichita to and from Nashville to help out my little brother, I headed to Indiana, PA to spend time with my good friend and his wife, Jim and Poom. Unfortunately, Poom was already in FL to spend time with her ailing father; I got to help Jim a bit and to try to have some conversations about the Lord, but Poom’s dad died, and I took Jim to the airport in Pittsburgh.
After Jim left, I was able to spend time with Jim’s mom, Pat, who also lives in Indiana. That was super nice as she is an ardent believer, and we enjoyed some great conversations. I by cared for Jim’s and Poom’s kitty and fish, cleaned, and raked leaves so when they came back, the place was clean.
I set about training in earnest. I tried to do everything right, blocking off nearly two weeks to focus on anaerobic training, comprising mainly hill work, fartlek, and some race-pace longer runs. I coupled this new regimen with good diet and plenty of sleep. I came out of that training injury-free…except, on my last shakeout run of a few slow miles, I noticed a little pain in my right outside heel. Not a big deal I thought, but I hoped it would get better and not worse!
The day before my flight, I drove to Pittsburgh and stayed at a hotel where I was able to park my truck and trailer while I was in NYC. When I arrived in LaGuardia, my backpack—a full 50+ pounds—made it, so I was ready. I wore my ole cowboy boots because I had a charity dinner to attend, and I didn’t want to attend in shorts and sandals. Well, that was all a mistake. Going from the airport to the bus, the bus to the subway, the subway to where the expo was held, the expo itself, and then subways and humping to my hostel, I put a lot of hours on my old feet, wearing OLD boots, and rucking a 50-lb. pack. This is not the way a healthy youngster wants to get ready for the marathon; but, for an old guy with a “hitch in his giddyup” (as an old friend used to say), this was just dumb. Oh well.
I got to NYC T – 3 days. T – 2, Pastor Jason and Jaden arrived from Texas and I met them at the 9-11 Memorial. That was incredibly moving. Then, we hooked ‘em for the Statue of Liberty tour, and a meet-up with Frank Schultz.
Jason had led Frank to Christ when Frank was in the hospital some years earlier. Anyway, Jason & Jaden ran to the gift shop while Frank & I held our place in the ferry line. Because we were pretty much first in line with no one there, we took up seats on the only bench. A younger fella missing part of his leg came over, and before I could hop up to offer him my seat, Frank put his paw on my shoulder and gave the guy his seat. We struck up a conversation with the guy and Frank zeroed in the band on his shirt, knowing the musicians’ names and history. But what was cool was how Frank and I worked together to share the love of Jesus with him. It still is one of my favorite memories of the entire NYC experience!
The second favorite was the next day—T – 1 day—I met Pastor Jason and Jaden for a trot in Central Park. We didn’t get to run far, but to me, running with Pastor Jason and Jaden was priceless, a memory I will always cherish.
Marathon day was interesting. My bunkmate was from Calgary, CAN. He was a “for real” marathoner, and everything about him was meticulous, planned. Anyway, when my phone alarm mysteriously didn’t go off, I hit the floor blowin’ ‘n’ goin’, wondering why my “meticulous” bunkmate was still sleeping as we were catching the same subway at 4:30 a.m. for the ferry ride. Well, turns out I completely missed the fact Daylight Savings Time was THAT Sunday! My poor bunkmate, understandably annoyed after I woke him up, had to tell me it was only 3:00 a.m.! Oops. Sorry, brother. My bad. I laid back down fully dressed to await my phone alarm to sound.
Finally on track, we made subway, the ferry, the buses, the haul to the runners’ area, and then the wait before our start times. I had plenty of time to mill about, drink about 10 cups of coffee, snarf a bagel, refill my waters, and hit the port-o-lets about five times, at least, before being directed to the start area. I felt good, but the heel was killing me. Still, I figured I could gut it out. No pain, no gain, man!
I shared Runners’ Church with everyone I could, and then the throng started and we were off. I had a pretty good amount of time to “warm-up” and by the time we were running, I was hitting it pretty hard. I won’t belabor the details, but suffice to say, by about mile 10, I was in so much pain, I could barely walk. I pulled into the medical tent and we tried a wrap. I made it a few paces and considered DNFing right there. Then I figured, what the heck, I can walk-hobble this thing to the house using my good leg, and so I did. Forget about a 3-hour marathon; just finish!
It was pretty warm—the second hottest NYC Marathon on record—and my poor bunkmate (coming in from Canada) had a horrible day. I passed him by with some encouragement and made it to the finish. However, I soon learned that the “finish line” at 26.2 miles was not the end; there were still a lot of walking to get us out of the Central Park finish area.
Finally on track, we made subway, the ferry, the buses, the haul to the runners’ area, and then the wait before our start times. I had plenty of time to mill about, drink about 10 cups of coffee, snarf a bagel, refill my waters, and hit the port-o-lets about five times, at least, before being directed to the start area. I felt good, but the heel was killing me. Still, I figured I could gut it out. No pain, no gain, man!
I shared Runners’ Church with everyone I could, and then the throng started and we were off. I had a pretty good amount of time to “warm-up” and by the time we were running, I was hitting it pretty hard. I won’t belabor the details, but suffice to say, by about mile 10, I was in so much pain, I could barely walk. I pulled into the medical tent and we tried a wrap. I made it a few paces and considered DNFing right there. Then I figured, what the heck, I can walk-hobble this thing to the house using my good leg, and so I did. Forget about a 3-hour marathon; just finish!
It was pretty warm—the second hottest NYC Marathon on record—and my poor bunkmate (coming in from Canada) had a horrible day. I passed him by with some encouragement and made it to the finish. However, I soon learned that the “finish line” at 26.2 miles was not the end; there were still a lot of walking to get us out of the Central Park finish area.
Guttin' it out.
I picked up my drop bag and changed into some dry, comfortable clothes. I had a lot of good conversations with folks around there, and witnessed the carnage of a hot NYC Marathon as they were carting off scads of “collapsers” to be medevac’d to hospitals or wherever. I felt sorry for folks coming from colder climes (like my bunkmate) to a marathon of nearly 80F. I was fine, but I’m used to heat.
Anyway, I was able to get back, get showered, and I left for the airport the next day via a FedEx shop to mail my boots to Nashville, where I was headed next. Funny thing: At the airport terminal, I was laying down, feet elevated; but, when I got up, I literally toppled over because my bum foot gave way. Nobody even batted and eye. I guess they figured I’d had a couple too many toddies, or something. Pretty funny, actually.
All in all, it was an expensive foray into the Big Apple. My home church, the Church on Masters Road gave me a huge contribution to offset the financial expense. However, overcompensating for the bum foot in the marathon gave me a really badly pulled left hammie to go along with the foot, and both were killing me as I drove from Pittsburgh to Nashville for the next race and Runners’ Church event, the Shelli Huether 8-Hour Honor Run November 12th, only one week away.
Anyway, I was able to get back, get showered, and I left for the airport the next day via a FedEx shop to mail my boots to Nashville, where I was headed next. Funny thing: At the airport terminal, I was laying down, feet elevated; but, when I got up, I literally toppled over because my bum foot gave way. Nobody even batted and eye. I guess they figured I’d had a couple too many toddies, or something. Pretty funny, actually.
All in all, it was an expensive foray into the Big Apple. My home church, the Church on Masters Road gave me a huge contribution to offset the financial expense. However, overcompensating for the bum foot in the marathon gave me a really badly pulled left hammie to go along with the foot, and both were killing me as I drove from Pittsburgh to Nashville for the next race and Runners’ Church event, the Shelli Huether 8-Hour Honor Run November 12th, only one week away.
