From: arands@gandalf.rutgers.edu (Rolf Arands)
Newsgroups: rec.sport.triathlon
Subject: NYC Marathon - Back of the Pack perspective
Summary: Long and fun race!!!
Date: 11 Nov 92 19:48:03 GMT
Organization: Rutgers Univ., New Brunswick, N.J.

Well, I did it.  I ran the NYC marathon in 4 hrs, 15 minutes.  I was about 
half an hour off of my desired time, but being my first marathon, the goal 
was to finish the distance.  I managed to think that I aggravated every 
injury and ache and pain that I've had in the last ten years before the race,
as well as catching a slight cold.  

Undaunted, I awoke on race day a good six hours before the race.  
Race day began with a drop off at the Naval Station at 8:45 AM with two
friends.  We whisked through the final check-in and proceeded to figure 
out ways to kill the two hours to go before race start.  Staying warm soon
filled the time as it was about 40 degrees and very windy.  Some guy from 
the "Marathon Psyche Team" pinned a small ribbon onto my chest.  I had 
him place it over my heart, knowing that this is where I would have to 
draw strength from to finish when things got tough.  The guy told me to 
grab at this little ribbon when things looked tough and to draw strength 
from the ribbon.  He later proved correct.

I managed to fumble and dawdle before the start, so I managed to secure a
comfortable position at the absolute back of the pack.  I was in the Blue
start.  Our group jumped the gun by about 30 seconds or so.  It didn't 
matter as it was fifteen minutes and half way across the Verrazano Bridge
before I was actually running.  This is it, I thought.  You're on your way.
Just take it mile by mile.  I settled into a brisk 8:30 minute/mile pace and
proceeded to run.  And run and run.  I focused on not bouncing and 
conserving energy at every possible step.  No bounce, no crossover, arm 
swing low and smooth.  We crossed into Brooklyn and proceeded to run 
up what seemed like the longest road on the planet.  As far ahead and as 
far back as I could see, a sea of heads was around me.  

Drama set in as I came to the first water stop.  OK, remember the rules.
Courtesy, don't stop, keep moving.  Go to a later table.  Crash.  A fellow
runner bumped into me.  So much for courtesy.  Just grab the water and 
go.  I drank water at every mile to the end.  It worked well as I didn't
dehydrate at all during the race.  

I ran along this never ending street as thousands of kids held their hands 
out.  I began to high five them as I flew past now at an even faster 7:45
min/mile pace.  After about 1000 high fives, I figured it was time to focus 
on running.  I set the controls on autopilot and began to watch all that was
happening around me.  People were out here cheering, cheering for ME.  
Bands were playing and people were just going nuts for us.  People were
everywhere, cheering, clapping, and giving us support like I had never 
felt.  

We finally got out of Queens and crossed into Manhattan at mile 16 and 
headed up over the 59th St (Queensboro Bridge??).  Up to this point I had
cruised effortlessly through these first 16 miles.  Well, the effort began to
catch up to me.  It was a long climb up the bridge.  A stiff 20-30 mph 40
degree wind soon removed all of the heat from my sweaty shirt and the 
body underneath.  Once off the bridge I began to recognize the symptoms 
of hypothermia.  Lack of blood flow to the legs was the primary symptom.  
I struggled to mile 17 and realized that I had to get warm very soon.  I
walked/jogged in the sun behind people to stay out of the stiff headwind 
as we headed north on Manhattan's First Avenue.  My friend Beth ran by 
me as I struggled with the cold.  I urged her on as she cruised by.  I saw a
medical tent at mile 18 and considered dropping out.  I'm cold, I'm tired, I 
am not going to make it.  But something made me continue.  

That little ribbon, placed over my heart by me called me.  "Only I can 
make it happen.  It has to come from inside now."  I said with a stange 
new voice.  A lesson I will carry with me for the rest of my life.  I
reestablished my hellish pace (9:00/mile) and set out to just make it mile 
to mile now.  I ground my way north out of Manhattan into the Bronx to 
mile 20.  My right leg grew stiffer with each step, as the quadricep muscles
that had given me trouble in the weeks before the race were fatigued to 
the point of cramping.  Once in the Bronx, I said, "I am not running 20 
miles to drop out now."  We soon crossed out of the Bronx on the final 5 
miles or so to the finish.  At this point I just focused on sticking to my
plan.  Drink every mile, keep an even pace.  If I had to crawl I was going 
to finish.  

At mile 23 a spectator handed me a God-send, Coca Cola.  Caffeine and 
sugar are a marathon runner's heaven at mile 23, let me tell you.  For the
final 5 km I was going to give it my all.  I have run many 5 km races, I can 
do this one.  By mile 24 I was just flying at about 9:30/mile pace on a 
sugar rush.  I walked/jogged to mile 25 and soon adrenaline kicked in 
where glycogen left off 8 miles ago.  I began to run again, past the fantastic
crowd.  Onlookers cheered, clapped and screamed as we all finished.  The 
cheers were deafening as I SAW the finish line now.  People were in 
complete chaos as I got closer.  At mile 26 I realized I was going to do it.  I
drew my inner reserves to the limit and ran the last 0.2 miles in a 
triumphant style.  I leaped across the finish and "Just did it."  I got choked
with a baffling array of emotions after finishing.  I was crying as I laughed
my way across the finish line with a smile and a sense of relief.  Needless 
to say, I was very happy.  

My highest praise goes to the race organizers, Fred Lebow who I did see 
during the race, the people of NYC, and the fellow marathon runners who 
made this day so special.  It is one I will never forget.  

My next marathon is on June 5, 1993 in Stockholm, Sweden.  I plan to 
reward myself when I finish my PhD in May 1993 with a trip to Sweden 
and another marathon.  

Who knows?  Next, THE Ironman???  Hmmmm.  I've got just about a year 
to train.  

Running wild and free in NJ,  
Rolf Arands
arands@gandalf.rutgers.edu