Well, with the Ibuprofen count officially under 4 a day, and the nightly icing rituals melted away, I thought it about darn time I relayed my NYC marathon story.

Let me first start by saying, how amazing all of the Dukes of Flatbush, particularly that guy I call my Husband, was through this whole process. A very sincere thanks to everyone for all of their well wishes, advice and encouragement along the way. And a particular shout out to the lady on First Ave and 96th St who was the ONLY person I didn’t know to call out my name- you will never know how much that helped. THANK-YOU!

I’ve taken a bit of time to write this for a lot of reasons. Partly because I needed to digest what exactly happened in those hours between 5 am and 6 pm on November 2nd, 2008, and partly because I really needed to get some rest! As I mentioned in my pre-marathon post, I was really looking forward to the two-week taper. My body, particularly my right knee and calf, were really giving me hell, and I was in an almost constant state of pain. I sought out the services of an acupuncturist, which helped tremendously, but even still I did not go into Marathon day in top form.

I’ll get this negative stuff out of the way, because as the administrator of this noble blog said- “It’ll be cathartic”. I’ll admit, I was pretty disappointed about not being in top shape on Marathon Day. After 2 + months of training, to be feeling rather questionable about your ability to perform is a bit of a lousy feeling. I didn’t play many team sports as a kid, so maybe this is something everyone else is used to by 32- I am not. I didn’t play through an ankle sprain and kick the winning goal. I didn’t get the MVP for getting two teeth knocked out and staying in the game to score four 3 pointers. I was a cheerleader- I broke my elbow doing a high kick and sat out the rest of the season out. Simply put, I’ve never played through the pain, it’s just not what I do.

OK, that feels better.

So there I was on the Saturday before Marathon Day, with perfect weather (crisp and partly cloudy with high of 50F) to look forward to, and I was a nervous friggin’ wreck about my knee. I went out for a long walk when a friend and fellow Marathoner called to ask how I was feeling. I described myself as the Owner of a Best in Show Contender at the Westminster Dog Show who had to leave Madison Square garden to go get a hotdog because they were too nervous to watch. This training process had done a lot of strange things to my mind, but this was getting out of hand. I was now simultaneously the Best in Breed, the trainer and the Owner. This had to stop!

What was the worst that could happen? “You could do real damage to your knee and wind up in serious trouble, Idiot,” I told myself. OK, fair enough, but really what are we talking about? Collapse in Williamsburg? Ambo in Central Park? I told myself that I could walk if I needed to, and in all honesty, that was fine. “There are plenty of people that walk, it’s not about the time. More importantly, it’s about finishing and raising funds for Jack’s Fund I reminded myself. Well, either the Viszla inside developed language skills or I was being to make sense. Either way, I was calm enough to go home and start the process of unwinding- 5 am does come early.

Per usual, I didn’t sleep much. It was a cold morning, but the spirit of the day most certainly got me out the door and onto the Subway Platform by 6 am. If your listening Mr or Mrs NYC Marathon Logistics Manager Man or Woman, I have to admit, I don’t think the Wave Start plan worked as well as you hoped. There were many, many runners that were in the 10:20 am start that had 5:30 am ferry or 4:30 am bus times. Doesn’t seem that it was the best use of staggered starts to then have people crowding the Staten Island Ferry terminal to stay warm before heading out into the sub 40 degree temp. But, I’m just saying. As I mentioned before, I consider myself a wimp. I know everyone talks about how amazing the Marathon Village is before the race, and how much fun it is to walk around and such, but I was freezing, so I stayed in the Ferry terminal till 8:30 before hoping on the bus to Fort Wadsworth.

Once there, I realized that there was a whole flurry of activity going on, and I clearly was not the only one that was a bag of nerves! People were literally walking in circles, too anxious and cold to sit, but too sore from months of training to move too fast! 9:30 am marked the end of Bag Check and in those few moments before I saw every type of salve, cream, gel you could imagine being applied to any and all body parts. Without shame, I too, joined the Vaseline’d Masses and got myself prepped for the race.

Before I knew it, we were lined up and stripping away our “give away” warm up gear. Without realizing it was really happening we were moving en masse up the platform up to the start line at the base of the bridge. Of course, Bruce Springstein’s Born To Run was playing on the speakers as I crossed over the start line. I chuckled to myself and smiled as I took off up the Verranzano Bridge and looked out over to Manhattan in the distance. I overheard someone say, “Doesn’t it look so far away?”. And strangely to me, it didn’t.

Coming into Brooklyn, I felt great. There was a dull pain in my knee, but it felt manageable. The tightness in my calf had subsided, I felt well rested, my digestive tract co-operated earlier and in all honesty, I felt like I was about to have the run of my life. Once on Fourth Avenue, I could see the Williamsburg Saving and Loan Building in the distance.

I live in Fort Greene, which is just past that at mile 8 so I settled in for an easy cruise up Fourth Ave, knowing that I would get a Dukes Welcome at the end of my block.

And there they were, my Bloody Mary’ed Cheering Section!

Luckily, my Husband brought out the Stick to the end of the road for a bit of mile 8 ITB release.

By this point, I was starting to question that “run of my life” comment. My knee was starting to feel very tight and tender, and each time I flexed my knee back after taking a step, it hurt even more. I slowed down from my 9 minute mile pace to a 9:30 for the next two miles to see where I was at. By mile 10 on Bedford Avenue, I stopped for a few moments to stretch out to see if I could loosen the ITB- it was beginning to feel like a rubber band being snagged on the outside of my knee with each step. No such luck. I stopped at the next Medical Tent to see if they had a Stick- for some reason this made sense to me, but of course they didn’t.

I was only 10 miles in, and here I was contemplating that I might have to serious consider walking for a bit. But walking on my right knee didn’t feel any better. The way I thought about it, it would just take longer and therefore hurt for longer. So I took off on my left leg, and just gently used my right foot to balance myself out. With that first step, I set my mind to running the remaining 16 miles on my left leg. Now I know this sounds insane, and of course it is. But it’s basically what happened. I stopped at two medical tents to have them tape up my knee to keep it from bending too far back, and I went about the business of getting through it.

Just passed seeing another group of friends at mile 14 in Long Island City, the pain was so bad that I stopped, folded over and started to cry. I don’t know if it was the pain, the frustration at my 11 minute pace or what, but I was pissed. All of this training, the resting, the icing, the balanced friggin’ nutrition, the Tetolling- I couldn’t believe it was coming to this. I think I even let out a bit of a Blue Streak- sorry to any kids that may have been nearby. After I few minutes, I got myself back together and got back to the business of the left sided shuffle. If it took me 7 hrs, I was gonna finish this thing.

I had been warned about the 59th St Bridge. With no crowds on either side, and the vibration of the runners pounding the expanse, it can be both daunting and exhilarating I was told.

As I made it up the incline, I got into a bit of a rhythm with the my new left sided gait and I was starting to settle in a bit. Just as I crested the bridge I realized that it truly “all down hill from here”. Not exactly the best thing for someone experiencing ITB pain, but you get the metaphor.

First Ave was pretty unbelievable.

Looking up those 50 or blocks and seeing a river of runners moving up the canyon of skyscrapers is a pretty remarkable site. There are so many spectators at this point too; never before have I felt greeted with such welcome arms to Manhattan. That said; I basically put my head down and wobbled my way up the Avenue, knowing that my Dukes Cheering Section was just 4 miles away.

By the time I got to mile 18, I realized that stopping to stretch was not a good idea; it became increasingly difficult to get started again and was more painful each time. It was also at that point that I realized that despite my difficulties, I was still within shot of my goal of sub 4:30. To do so, I would have to shave about 30 seconds off of my mile pace. One thing that has always been true during my training is that I tend to speed up after I get over the hump and enter the last 3rd of a run. Would that be true this time was the question.

I’ll spare you the grunting, wincing, cursing blow by blow of the last 8 miles, but they were the most intense of my life. The crowds down 5 Avenue and in Central Park were amazing. To each of the crazy spectators with the large “Beer” signs, thank-you for the laughs.

But I think this sign had to be the best-

With one last glance at my husband at the 26 mile mark, I ran those last .2 miles with tears in my eyes and a fullness in my heart that I will hold with me for the rest of my life.

At 4:28: 53, I can now say I know what it feels like to have made my own goal, banged up knee and all.

A week plus later, and I am not quite ready to tackle the pavement just yet. I might go back to Pilates for a bit, maybe even consider taking a Yoga class. I’m waiting for all of the swelling to go down to figure out what to do about my knee. I figure it makes sense to see what is just a result of all that training, and what may or may not be a lasting result before going to see a Doctor. To be honest I don’t want to know yet, I’d rather just bask in the glory for a bit longer.