2017 New York City Marathon

Race Report: Frank Tai

Thanks everyone. I really didn't expect so many of you to track my race.

The weekend was filled with a lot of firsts for me even though it was my 15th NYC Marathon (my ~75th marathon). So here's my trip report, which includes my race report.

For the past 6 months, we'd been trying to get tickets to the Broadway show, Dear Evan Hansen (won the bulk of this year's Tony Awards, including best musical, best actor (Ben Platt) and best actress). We had run out of options but then this week our niece, who is in the business, managed to get us “house seats" - 1st row matinee at ticket face value. You have to see it if you are in NYC anytime soon.

Because we got the show tickets, our son Brandon and his friend Marco, joined us. It could have been a problem because we had only 1 hotel room, but through a series of fortuitous events, our room at the Grand Hyatt was upgraded a few times to a VIP suite - with beds for all of us in over 1000 sq.ft.

United Airlines, who is a title sponsor of the marathon, somehow got wind that I was running. Because I'm a high mileage flyer, Lorraine & I were invited to a pre-race dinner at a really nice Italian restaurant. We had to listen to the United Rep but then were treated to a talk by Meb. I chatted with him a few times - what a great but humble guy. I was surprised that he ate the same rich meal as us, although he skipped the drinks which flowed constantly that evening.
United Airlines also invited me to their VIP tent at the start of the race. It was great to be out of the rain and in comfy chairs (vs. being on wet grass) but the eggs & bacon were a bit much (I stuck with my banana & bagel).

For those of you who will be running NYC in the future, there were a couple of logistics things I learned this morning, :
1. Instead of taking the bus or ferry to the start, get on the first private bus you see (I also did this last year). Less than a block from my hotel, I saw a bus full of runners and said to the gate keeper, “Is this the #*? marathon bus?" to which he replied “Are you with Team in Training?" (last year it was “Are you with Marathon Tours?"). I said “Yes" and hopped on. There's no faster way to get to the start - saved about an hour (and there were empty seats so I didn't deprive anyone of getting there).
2. Since we always fly home the evening of the race, it's difficult to catch a shower before heading to the airport (hotels aren't keen on checking out at 4PM). Turns out there are a bunch of athletic clubs near the finish of the marathon and every one of them offers a free one-day pass (for prospective members). It was great, not only cleaning up nearby & out of the rain, but also doing some spinning and stretching, and getting a sauna.

We're now at Newark Airport. We're at a United Airlines invitation-only restaurant, Classified. The food is quite good, but overpriced. They learned that I had run the race, so they asked if we wanted champagne (on the house) and appetizers (on the house) - “Of course!" After our meal, I was informed that United had picked up the tab.
And my luck with them still hadn't stopped when I was upgraded to a lie-flat seat for the flight home.

So how about my race?

The weather was nearly perfect; cool and drizzling. The only annoyance was the streets were slick underfoot.

Because of injuries, I got a later-than-usual start at training. I trained for ~5 weeks which included one long run (19.3 miles). It was superb training because of my outstanding TCLA teammates - there just wasn't enough of it. My goal was to qualify for next year's NYC Marathon, 3:34:00 (which, by the way, is 26 minutes faster than the time I need to qualify for Boston). My plan was to shadow the 3:30 (8:00/mile) pacer, and then decide whether to continue when I saw Lorraine at mile 16-17 (if I stopped, I'd run a later qualifying race). The first 16-17 miles went precisely according to plan, except for when I lost track of my pacer and ran down the 3:15 pacer. Oh also, after making a pit stop at mile 13, I was having trouble fighting my way through the crowd to catch back up to my pacer, when I heard someone yelling “blind runner". There were five of them and they were slowly passing everyone, so I tagged along until we caught my pace group. When I saw Lorraine, I felt like I could continue and possibly qualify, but I was fatiguing quickly. My watch had glitched but I knew I had several minutes in the bank because I was on 3:30 pace. My strategy (which Coach Eric agreed with) had been to run as easy and relaxed as long as I could since I felt I was pushing the limits of my endurance, plus I couldn't afford to surge as that would likely lead to cramping. In continuing to run relaxed, the pacer left me at mile 20 and by mile 24 I had used up much of the time I had banked earlier on. Without my watch, and with only limited mental capabilities at this point, I felt I had to give it my all for the last 3 miles and risk cramping. In retrospect, I really didn't have to pick it up … so lesson learned - make sure your watch is working. But it was great, cruising by the runners, most of whom had slowed to a crawl, or worse yet were nursing cramps. I finished ~2 minutes under the time I needed to qualify. It's a bitter sweet victory because it means I've now finished running until I start training for NYC '18 next September.
There were many positives to reflect on from this weekend. My race was one of a small number in which execution was near perfection (except for the sprint to catch the 3:15 pacer). Somehow the perks from all of the years of flying United Airlines are starting to appear, and I intend to keep taking advantage of them. And in spite of New York's crummy weather, overcrowding, and rude people, it has so much to offer that it's one of the few places & races I will continue to frequent.

Race Report: Chase Campen

Here's my race report guys, 3:38. Chilling this weekend, see you next week!

Observations from running my first New York Marathon.

1) No city embodies the toughness, pride and diversity of the United States better than New York. The City and all of us took it on the chin last week at the hands of a deranged terrorist. Undeterred, the City, an international field of participants, and thousands of volunteers flocked into town as the week went on to run the marathon as planned. The race planners and City leaders dialed up extra security personnel and took every conceivable caution to ensure a safe event. No one was willing to lie down in the face of adversity.

2) For those who don't know, getting to the start of the New York Marathon is an extraordinary logistical endeavor for the runners. You have to make it first down toward Battery Park and the Staten Island ferry, several hours before you actually start the race. After reaching Staten Island you then board a bus to Fort Wadsworth and from there walk to the staging area for the start of the race at the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. Security measures were prominent from the time you approached the Staten Island Ferry Station. Multiple NYPD were positioned at the entrance with high powered rifles. Every runner lowered their bags so police dogs could get a scent. The relatively short bus ride from the ferry to Wadsworth seemed to snake slowly and we understood why once we finally arrived. Every, single person getting off the bus was checked with a detector and their bags examined before they were allowed to proceed. Deliberate steps that were WELL worth the wait. We understand the world we live in and the measures that need to be taken to increase safety.

3) The international flavor of the marathon is incredible. Most conversations I had were with people from other countries. Saturday, Hunter and I ran the 5k (that starts, appropriately in front of the UN). Immediately in front of us was a man in his 70s, an ultra-marathon runner from Japan. Brazil to our left. A large contingent from France all around us. Sunday morning while waiting in my corral, I mostly sat next to a man from Ireland on one side and a hispanic couple on the other side, who I pestered umpteen times for the time. Two young Norwegian women started the race next to me on the Verrazano; they kept enthusiastically hugging each other in the moments before the horn sounded, caught up in the emotion of making it to this moment and this event.

4) People tell you this but you don't get it until you do it. The marathon is a BIG deal in NY, and the support from the people in the City is EXTRAORDINARY. The Verrazano bridge occupies the first two miles, which is run in relative silence. When you exit you're in Brooklyn, and you're immediately met by walls of spectators on both sides of the street, screaming support. This goes on literally all the way to the Central Park finish, excluding time on the bridges. Running the New York Marathon is really like spending the day at a concert (albeit a grueling one); you hear music nonstop, from contemporary hits to classics to international songs. It's wonderful. In the 8th mile at the intersection of Lafayette and Vanderbilt there was an entire seated orchestra playing of perhaps 80 members. Unbelievable.

5) Like I said, the marathon is very international, but it's also utterly New York. The locals who've run it before take pride in their knowledge of tips to navigate the process and race itself, and they are eager to share them. At the start of the race I linked up with the 3:30 pace group, led by two runners from the Front Runners New York club both named Steven. Really great, friendly guys who did an excellent job. They spoke to me throughout the race, checking in to see how I was doing (the only thing they didn't do was carry me the final 6 miles).

6) The New York Marathon is the largest in the world. Does that mean anything to a runner, other than being a cool fact? It certainly does. The combination of a 50,000-strong field and - in some cases - narrow streets - means that from the time the race starts until you cross the finish line, you are in extremely tight quarters with the other runners. You spend 26.2 miles jockeying for position, taking short steps to avoid running into someone, briefly sprinting to get around someone else and to stay close to your group. I would say I had hard physical contact with other runners at least 20 times. Does this matter? Well, it's hard to run 26.2 miles. Factor in the constant physical and mental awareness that you're about to hit someone or get hit compounds the strain. With about 5 miles to go in Central Park, I swung my right arm back for probably the 86,000th time of the race and felt direct contact as my elbow smashed into something soft. Another man's left bicep. Moments later he passed me grimacing in agony. Whoever that was, I'm sorry.

7) At mile 21 you exit the Maddison Avenue Bridge and make a sharp left toward 5th Avenue and the Park. It was at this point I believe that we were met with a thunderous crowd cheering us on for the final push. My eyes teared up, partly because I just couldn't believe that many strangers cared so much to cheer me on. Partly because running this marathon is really hard. And maybe partly because my legs were starting to cramp and I knew from here on in I was headed for nothing but pain and suffering.

8) People say the race starts around mile 20, and to save it for that final push. I heard those words in training. I planned for it. But, you still have to do it. Part of the task of a marathon is pushing pain out of your mind for 26.2 miles. It gets really hard to do in the latter moments. I suffered mightily in the final 6 miles. Could feel my legs weakening. My arms were cramping due to being in the same 90-degree position for three hours, indicating to me the reality that I was dehydrated (on a 60 degree, misty day...baffles the mind, though it was humid). Around mile 23 my right leg developed cramps up in the quad/thigh area. Around mile 25 the same thing happened in my left leg. I wasn't celebrating the last 1.2 miles. I was seriously questioning how to take any further steps when each one was legitimately painful. Images flashed through my mind about those dramatic moments when someone is crashing meters before the finish line and has to be helped by a fellow competitor or maybe even spectator - I knew my son was close by. But I really didn't want to be that person. "Not that there's anything wrong with that." I had to finish. There was a sign that said "Final 800 meters." But it was certainly a lie. I know what 800 meters feels like - it's 2 laps. This was at least 4 miles. Or so it felt. But I finished.

9) Then cruelty sets in. You finish the dang marathon. You stumble a couple hundred yards for the whole point of the deal, to get your medal. And then...you have to pick up the bag that you foolishly decided to check at the start, that contains your cell phone, an extra pair of shoes "just in case," and other things you really didn't need to bring. And all you have to do to pick up that bag is WALK ONE MORE FREAKIN' MILE through Central Park. Family and spectators aren't allowed in to this area. It's just you, ONE MORE MILE, your broken down legs, and hundreds of Red Cross volunteers that are plucking suffering people off the path left and right to give them medical care. A final, cruel march of survival.

10) But then it's glorious. When I finally exited the park a generous Rickshaw driver offered to take me the one mile to our restaurant meeting location for only $50. Somehow I had my wits about me to take a $10 Uber instead. When I walked into the restaurant three tables filled with strangers stood, applauded and cheered. At first I completely ignored it, but they kept going. I turned and looked back and wondered who it was for. And it hit me. It was for me. Unbelievable.

Thank you to the City of New York, the New York Road Runners and their thousands of volunteers for putting on an amazing, unforgettable event. Thank you to my wife Angelique for not only supporting me through 16 weeks of training, but taking our kids all around the City to cheer me on.

I finished the New York Marathon. Start spreading the news!