Nick Marcovich Completes the NY Marathon - In April 2013 I learned I would be guaranteed entry in the 2014 New York City Marathon. I didn’t achieve this feat as a result of running a qualifying time but rather this was the third consecutive year where my name was not drawn in the lottery that determines most of the 50,000 strong field. Under a clause that was grandfathered back in 2011, I was the last class eligible for guaranteed entry under the ‘three strikes and you are in’ rule. It meant that unlike most of the runners who learnt of their fate six month ahead of the race, I had nearly 18 months to focus on 02 November 2014. Over that period I survived 2,600 km in training and despite the odd hypochondriac event felt well prepared to run my tenth marathon. After a week adjusting to the time zone on the West Coast, we arrived in New York on a flight that appeared to contain the entire Australian contingent three days before the race. The few days before a marathon are filled with apprehension. Is that sniffle signalling the early stages of a head cold? Was my training mileage sufficient? Did I taper too early or too late? Am I consuming enough carbohydrate? Having succumb to a bout of food poisoning the day before my last marathon, quarantining myself in our hotel room for the two days before the race seemed like a sensible option. Of course the compromise was looking out on the sights and sounds of Times Square in the city that never sleeps. I didn’t get much sleep the night before the race even as it coincided with the end of daylight saving promising an extra hour of sleep. I used these quiet hours to listen to the building howls of wind against the windows and reading live updates on the website about the measures being adopted due to the expected high winds. So regrettably instead of being greeted on race morning with glorious late autumn sunshine, we were going to have to contend with 5 degrees at the start coupled with a windchill of zero and gusts of up to 60 km/hr. Of course it could have been much worse as many experienced in 2012. At 4.30 am as I started getting ready I was excited that my nose was clear and the campaign had only 42.195 km to run. Although the gun (or cannon) wouldn’t sound until 9.40 am, we were required to arrive at Staten Island hours before the start. In my case this meant catching a 5.30 am bus from midtown and after clearing security, shivering for nearly three hours in a disposable jacket and beanie. From that perspective this marathon was different to those that I had run previously. Although the level of organisation was outstanding, the enclosed start area was devoid of the usual carnival atmosphere that accompanies large scale community races. There was no live (or even recorded) music, no DJ’s revving up the runners and providing tips on surviving the run. There was just a pre-recorded 30 second message in about eight languages being repeated through the loud speakers. But a saving grace was port-a-loos as far as the eye could see. Based on my expected finishing time I was allocated towards the front of the first wave. To give runners the best chance of a clean start and clear run to Central Park, all runners were required to provide expected finish times from which starting corrals were assigned. These were strictly enforced so despite the field size, I was running in a straight line within a minute of the gun and at no stage of the race did I need to weave around slower runners (although I’m sure a few had to dodge to avoid me as I faded over the last few kilometres). One of the heavily promoted features of the course is that it takes in all five boroughs (or sections) of the city. Starting on Staten Island, the run heads to Brooklyn then through Queens, Manhattan, The Bronx and then finishes back in Central Park. It sounds really inventive and you might expect that it is picturesque as it passes the landmarks and distinct cultural flavours that characterise each of these areas of the city. The blunt reality is that this isn’t a sightseeing marathon. Instead runners are overwhelmed with enthusiastic and parochial support lining both sides of the entire course. Of the million people who braved the cold and bleak conditions, only a fraction could have family ties competing which highlights the passion and admiration New Yorkers feel for the event. I’d been told this was going to be the case but I still wasn’t prepared for such a reception every inch of the route. To capitalise on this support many runners wore shirts depicting their name and country and as a result benefitted from personal encouragement as members of the home team. My goal was to finish around 3 h 15 m. This required an even pace of 4:37/km. This level of precision can be achieved with GPS technology. Yet despite years of (sometime painful) experience, I committed the cardinal sin of going out too hard. Even a pace just a few seconds faster than planned can have disastrous consequences later on. I went through the first half in 93 minutes but had a feeling I wasn’t going to be able to sustain this pace beyond 30 km. The sensible thing to do would have been to ease back by a few seconds a kilometre to preserve energy over the most difficult miles of the race. The problem I found was that I was too caught up in the emotion and as a result the pacing became a little ragged. Some kilometres were slower but up until 35 km I was still about ten seconds faster than I planned. That’s when it became quite difficult. I knew I was in trouble when both the 3 h 10 m and 3 h 15 m groups passed me within what felt like a couple of minutes. By this stage you are battling what feels like an endless climb alongside Central Park and you are just hoping the right turn into the park is just a few hundred metres away. When you eventually turn into the park with only a couple of kilometres to go, the crowd is at its most deafening with an intensity that leaves you feeling engulfed. As much as your body wants to surrender, you can’t bear the thought of slowing to a walk in front of your supporters. The final few hundred metres of a marathon feel like a dream. Everything slows down as you float towards the finish line, all the while the body trying to absorb what is happening around it. The immediacy of your pain is about to be replaced with the euphoria of finishing. Yet crossing the line is strangely anticlimactic. Seldom is the finishing time a surprise. It is simply a reflection of the effort applied in training. I finished within the margin of error in 3 h 19 m. Once the legs stop moving there is that feeling of having just stepped off a treadmill after an hour. The eyes expect the horizon to continue approaching but it isn’t. You are soon channelled through the finisher’s bullring: a medal is hung around your neck; you are provided with a plastic poncho which is eventually enhanced with a fleecy variant; your photo is taken and a showbag is handed to you. You’re not allowed to stop as you are herded along the production line. Despite the shared experiences of finishers, there is little conversation. The occasional volunteer applauds (no family or friends were allowed in the security exclusion zone) and within 15 minutes of finishing you depart the finishing area and you are faced with the 15 block walk back to the hotel. This walk was shared with hundreds of other finishers who were not hard to spot. The slow steps and blue poncho gave them away. The marathon was rapidly disappearing in the rear view mirror by the time I reached the hotel. Over a year’s worth of training and a four year odyssey to compete in arguably the most iconic marathon in the world was over. Some statistics: - Entry fee USD 358 - Average finishing time 4:34:45 - My finishing time 3:19:01 - Finishers 50,564 - My place 2,329
Posted on: Thu, 20 Nov 2014 06:02:01 +0000