Adventures in NYC

I say 'adventures' because there is more than one story to tell.

The Departure

After being told I am the worst mommy in the world for leaving my daughter to go run the NYC half marathon, I kissed my two favorite boys goodbye. I arrived in White Marsh to board the Megabus. While waiting in the bus terminal I met a 20-yr old college student who was either mentally retarded or stoned. He insisted on engaging me in conversation in spite of my obvious attempts to dodge it. First he tried to impress me with his literary skills, "Do you like to read?" "Yes, when I have time". He goes further to ask about authors, books, etc., all of which I shrug off. He attempts to press further by asking me about myself. As I unwillingly reveal little bits about myself to him we come to my teaching of martial arts. He wittily replies "Wow! You're just full of surprises!" With all my wisdom, eloquence, and poise I say, "Well, of course I am, but that's just because you don't know me". Board the bus: end of chapter.

Walking 500 miles

The Proclaimers song(thank you, Mike) kept playing itself in my head. It was a beautiful day in NY and on a day like this it's meant for walking; unless you are trying to save your feet for a race you trained really hard for. We (three ladies and I) could not get a cab to save our lives. I was the only one seriously concerned with this. Finally an unmarked town car stopped and claimed to be a cab. "How much?" "$20". $20 to take us 30 blocks? Fine. We jumped in. We checked into the Loews Regency five star hotel. Got upgraded to a suite; sweet. We had about 15 minutes to get ready to head back out to get to a 6:30 dinner reservation that was "right around the corner". After walking for another 15 minutes we found the restaurant. I gorged on salad, risotto, and an apple sponge cake.

After dinner we parted ways and Karen and I met Ed to sit down and catch up and discuss tomorrow's game plan. 10 o'clock roles around and I can do no more. Race anxiety and fatigue set in and we head upstairs for the evening but not before I stop at the front desk and ask for a 5 o'clock wake up call. Later, Karen gives me grief for getting such an early wake up call and I call down to the desk to change it to 5:30.


NYC Half Marathon

Like clock work, the sirens outside my window go off right at 5:00 am and within seconds I receive my wake up call. I know I called and changed it, apparently they didn't take note. I receive my second wake up call @5:30, thanks Five Star Hotel.

I must be an experienced racer, I'm excited but I no longer get nausea from race jitters like back in the day. I'm calm, collected and ready to go. I agreed to meet the other two gals downstairs at 6:15; they don't come down till 6:30. I'm keeping it cool. I am checking a bag and need to be there before 7:00. It was only a 10 minute cab ride. I made it with 10 minutes to spare.

My holding bin is much closer than theirs, so we part ways. My start line is 95th street and theirs is closer to 102, OUCH! I start a conversation with a man in my holding bin. He's in his early 60's and an experienced NY runner. He gives me some tid bits on running the Park. 7:30: the race starts.

I am so happy I finally get to run through Central Park. As many trips as I make to NYC I have never had the opportunity. I get a little emotional as I gaze around me. The park is huge, but it is surrounded by mammoth buildings so there is no delusion that you are still in an urban setting. Miles 1-7 go through the park. I knew after I started the race that I would need to go to the bathroom. Mile after mile I see lines outside the port-a-pots. I refuse to sacrifice time standing in line. Finally at mile 6 I see some w/ no line. I seize the opportunity. Only a 45 second pit stop and it was well worth it. I didn't want to have another mishap like the Baltimore Half '08 (don't ask).

After mile 7 the race leaves the park and heads down 7th ave. This was, by far, the best part of the race. It was awfully nice of them to clear all five lanes of 7th Ave. from traffic and pedestrians just for me (and maybe the other 11,567 runners). In front of me was Times Square. I pretended all the lit up signs on the buildings were reading, "Go Erin!".

After Times Square we rounded the corner onto 42nd and headed west. NY Roads are bumpy! If you don't look where you're going you could twist an ankle. I headed towards 12 Ave knowing Ed was there at the 44th st. turn around. Passed mile 9, passed the 15K, and headed into the turn around. Sure enough, there was Ed. With a big smile on my face I ran towards him with my arms out yelling, "Eddie!". He picked me up and gave me a big hug, asked how I feel, to which I said, "I feel like shit" and he told me I look great and he'll see me at the finish line.

Now, it was down 12th for the last 3.1 miles. I pushed and pushed; I was really wearing out, but kept at it. The race was so well organized. They put up signs at the 20K (12.4 miles) so you knew you had .6 miles to go. They also had two signs as you approached the finish: One said '400m to go' (one lap around the track) and then '200m to go' (half-track; time to sprint). I took off with all I had left. I finished the race with a new PR of 1:46:55 Top 25% overall, top 13% women, top 13% age group. (Added note: This race brought out world-class professional runners who are figured into the statistics)

I did it, and I really think I did it well. I am very pleased with my performance. I got foil wrapped and got my bling. I walked through the chute, picked up my checked bag of dry clothes and headed towards the Hudson River. I discreetly changed my shirt and sports bra (hey, it's an art). I climbed up on a wall and sat down, then sent Ed a text telling him where I was.

Ed

My one and only fan in NYC. He's also my hero. Where do I even start? He boosted my spirits with a big hug at 44th street. He found me in the mob of people in the finishing area. He carried my stuff. He held my hand as he fought through the crowd pulling me away from all the stress. His company and knowledge of NY were invaluable. We walked and talked and when I finally said I'm on the verge of becoming whiny we walked a little further and got a cab, but not before I got the chance to take in City Hall. I can't even begin to tell you what an amazing building that is! Oh, and let me add this: A cab to a New Yorker is a like a moth to a flame. Within seconds a cab pulls over to get us and I didn't even see Ed put his hand out.

We head back up to Chelsea to a diner he knows. Moonstruck. Ed treats me to an omelet and some great conversation. Though I am mentally and physically fatigued I try to keep up. He's just getting off a double night shift and hasn't even been to bed!

After breakfast, another cab magically appears at our side and we head back to my hotel. The cabbie forgot to put the meter on. In mid-ride he realized it and got mad. His driving reflected this. Meanwhile Ed keeps chatting away as if our lives are in no jeopardy. I finally say to Ed,"I am trying to follow what you're saying, but am too concerned for my life, you'll have to tell me the story again later." Ed just laughs.

We stand outside my hotel and chat for a while. Then he gave me a classic Ed hug and kiss and we say goodbye. I don't know what I would have done without him. I'd probably still be roaming downtown NYC.

A New York City Afternoon

I extended my checkout until 1, took a shower, and squeezed in a nap before the hotel gave me the boot. I really didn't feel like lugging a huge backpack around NYC so I got in a cab and went to Penn station. I hoped to jump on an earlier bus since Karen was successful doing so earlier today. First though, I had to run through some gift shops and grab some goodies for the kids.

The mob in front of the Megabus pick-up was like I have never seen. There was no system, no lines and the bus guys were not letting people get on unless their ticket clearly stated that time. I cut my losses, bought a sandwich and some chips, and went around the corner to the Post Office. I sat on the steps, eating my lunch and basking in the sun. It was so relaxing to sit and take it all in, and what a gorgeous day! I took some pictures to capture the memory(See picture uploaded from my phone).

I still had so much time to kill and I didn't want to walk around. I tried again to get on an earlier bus with no luck. I just wanted to get home. Feeling desperate, I went into Penn station to price a train ticket. Cheapest one-way ticket? $162 and it didn't leave until 5; my bus was at 5:30! Forget about it. I headed across the street and sat down in an Irish sports bar and got myself a Blue moon.

The Solider

A beer and a half later I was approached by a man. He told me he was an Army Ranger and he seemed quite proud of the fact. The light conversation soon turned to me mentioning martial arts training and how great it's been for me. I should have seen the warning signs when I merely asked what form of martial arts the Israeli's do. He responded, "Who cares? We are a better country, they would be nothing w/o us, blah, blah..." All I asked was the name of the martial arts!

I don't know what his intentions were when he approached me, I now think he only had one: to pick on me and ruin my day. He launched into how men are dying for our country and how naive I must be for going about my life not taking this into account, that at any moment my life could end because of bombs. I said I am aware these things can happen but what are you suggesting, that I go live my life in a bomb shelter? He said all 'yous peoples' only care about yourselves and your family, there are men DYING! Again, I said I know, what do you want me to do? I tried thanking him for his services, I tried telling him I appreciate what he is doing, I told him I am aware of how great our country is. Nothing would stop this man from belittling my life and my accomplishments. He said he does what he does so I can run my 'little' marathons. He said that I live in La-La land and that he lives in Reality.

At this point the gloves came off. I was done being nice to this guy. He didn't want a thank you. Clearly, he was a disgruntled solider with a gigantic chip on his shoulder. I told him, "My world, my life, IS my reality. I am living my life the best that I can. I have two children and they are amazing. I am doing my part too". Again with the dying bit. I said, "So let me get this straight, you want me to stop living my life to mourn the loss of solders dying, people I don't even know, but if my own children were to die you would think nothing of it?" The other shoe finally dropped. I had a decent beer buzz going mixed with fatigue, and I was done with this man. I looked him right in the eye and said, "Look I choose to appreciate life; I don't dwell on death." He about-faced and walked away. I guess once you go Iraq, you never come back.

Goodnight

After being nearly on the verge of tears, I finally boarded my bus. I popped in my ear buds, put on my sunglasses, and silently cried. God, what a day, what a life. I experienced every perceivable emotion in one day. Now...I'm finally home safe and sound.