The NYC Half

“Can you tell me where the Apple Store is?” a man asked as I exited a cab way too early in the morning on a Sunday.

“Umm… it’s right in front of you,” I answered, pointing to the large glass case with the Apple logo emblazoned on the front.  I was going there, too, so I led the man to the door where he finally realized how silly his question was.  In fairness, it doesn’t look like a store.  It looks more like an overblown advertisement.  We descended the spiral staircase to an underground vault – the Apple Store, currently posing as a haven for runners waiting out the cold before the United NYC Half Marathon.

The Apple Store - NY, NY

This was the meeting area for my fellow DetermiNation teammates, and we alone occupied about half the store.  “Did you guys open the store just for us?” I asked an employee, figuring sometimes companies do nice things for charitable reasons and the good publicity.  “No,” he said.  “We’re open 24/7.”  Oh, the things I miss about New York.  Where else can you drop your phone in your beer at 3AM and get an immediate replacement?

I hesitate to write how wonderful the accommodations were at the Apple Store.  I’m not one for touting big corporate America and if I run this race again, I certainly don’t want the store to be more crowded because people read this.  But at least I have an iPhone and not an Android, which would have made me feel a lot more guilty about taking advantage of the Apple Store’s hospitality.  The bathroom line got a little long as we approached race time, but how can you complain about that?  I was warm, dry, and I looked at the $15 throwaway hoodie I bought the day before and thought, “What a waste of money.”

When it was time for the last wave of starters to get to their corrals, we made our way up the staircase and the Apple employees lined up and started clapping.  It felt really, really cool until someone made the obvious connection:  “They’re just happy we’re finally leaving.”  Perhaps, but Tim Cook should know that his employees at this location showed a lot of patience and class.  (Free iPhone 7 for this plug, maybe, Tim?  Whaddya say, buddy?)

Team DetermiNation at the Apple Store... Nobody told me it was "Wear Red" day.

I walked with my friend Michele up to our starting corrals.  It could not have been easier getting through the gates and the NYPD presence was strong, yet very professional, with most officers wearing smiles and many wishing us all good luck.  I had planned on running with Michele during the race, but she was two corrals up and with my training not being as strong over the past month, I knew I would hold her back.  So we decided to go at it alone, which wound up being a good thing because Michele finished 10 minutes ahead of me.  Either I would have slowed her down, or she would have made me speed up and I don’t know if I would have been ready for that.

Michele in action... I was ten minutes behind.

The race begins on the east side of Central Park in the 70’s and heads north.  From there you head out of the park for a brief stint, around Frederick Douglass Circle and back down the west side of the park.  The first 5 miles or so of the race are the toughest.  Central Park has some hills, the most notable of which is Harlem Hill, a little after mile 3.  Having not run over 4 miles in a month and doing much of that on a treadmill with very little incline, I knew I needed to take the first half of the race very cautiously.  I found a comfortable pace and even pulled back a little from there.  The plan was to take it easy through the first 5-6 miles and then, with the hills in the rearview, assess the situation from there and push the pace if I felt strong enough to do so.

The weather was relatively kind.  At one point late in the week, there was snow in the forecast and it caused me way more anxiety than it should have.  But it didn’t snow at all.  It was a little chilly and there was some cold wind, especially running down the West Side Highway near the water, but for a mid-March day there was nothing to really complain about.  Hats and gloves were more than adequate to combat the chill.

Leaving the park, my legs were just starting to feel the first bit of fatigue – which was earlier than I had expected, but given the hills and my lack of training wasn’t very surprising.  I knew I wasn’t going to be able to push the pace, even though my stress fractured leg experienced no pain whatsoever, which was encouraging enough.  Running through Times Square is really cool, although having been a New Yorker for years, it was really more like visiting an old stomping-ground than a once-in-a-lifetime experience for me.  But it was exciting nonetheless.

I tried to make sure that I wasn’t pressing my pace too much so that I wouldn't tire out too soon.  But my Garmin was beginning to go a little haywire on me.  I knew I was around an 11-minute/mile pace, but it kept reflecting numbers closer to 8-minutes, which is out of the realm of possibility for me.  I knew what was happening – it’s the mystery GPS teleportation tricks.  For example, if I showed you my run through Times Square, you’d think the way I was weaving back and forth was indicative of either drunkenness, or perhaps I am planning to run for mayor and making sure to kiss all the babies on both sides of the road.  I assure you I ran very straight, mostly right down the middle of the road.

No, really... I wasn't drunk.

Then as I went down 42^nd Street, I must have veered off to the right and somehow reached 43^rd street.  The course doesn’t actually go there, so I must have hopped a guardrail and found an alley way somewhere.  I don’t remember going to 43^rd Street – maybe I saw a hot dog cart or something.  The inconsistencies with GPS are extremely annoying to me.  If you’re going to sell me a watch for hundreds of dollars, then it really should work better than this.  It’s not just Garmin, either.  I have had this issue with every single GPS-driven device or app I have used.  In all, my Garmin says I ran 13.60 miles on this 13.1 mile course.  A little inconsistency is expected, but a half-mile difference is obscene.

I don't remember running on 43rd Street, Garmin.

The West Side Highway portion of this race is sorta blah.  It’s very flat and straight, and perhaps the best feature of it is that when you look in the distance you can see the Freedom Tower, and you know that eventually you’ll be passing right next to it.  It’s a little daunting at first, because it really seems far away when you initially make the turn south.  But it reels you in, and at times the crowds lining the streets were very loud and supportive.

It was here at 23^rd Street where my girlfriend Stefany and my daughter Samantha met me.  They stood holding the signs they had made the day before at the race expo, and Samantha’s excitement upon seeing her Dad was plainly evident in her smile.  I gave her a big hug and picked her up.  It was not just a lovely father-daughter bonding moment, but a wonderful excuse to rest my legs for a minute.  The moment ended with goodbye kisses, and I headed off for the last few miles knowing I’d see them again at the finish.  It was the perfect way to recover some energy for the final few miles – and I knew my little girl needed that medal.

Me and my biggest fans at the race expo.

I ran into some DetermiNation team members cheering on the side of the road and feigned jubilation for a brief moment for a photo opp.  Coach Cider spotted me around mile 10 and asked me how I was doing.  I was pretty much blah at that point.  I was comfortable knowing I would finish, tired enough to know that pushing the pace would only make me feel worse at the end, and resigned to the fact that I wasn’t going to be happy with my finishing time.

This jubilation is entirely fake.

“Focus on small goals,” she said, “like getting to that sign over there.”

“How about I just focus on that big building instead,” I grumbled as I pointed to the Freedom Tower (sorry Coach Cider).  I really just wanted the race to be over at that point, and I wasn’t really lacking encouragement.  I knew I was going to make it.  I was at that point in the race where I didn’t really want to run faster because I knew I’d be more uncomfortable, but I really wanted to race to be over, so I wanted to run faster.  Does that make sense?

The monotony of the West Side Highway rolled on, and I eventually looked up and noticed the Freedom Tower was no longer in my sights, but right next to me.  I knew I was getting closer to the finish, as the course veered left and into the tunnel near Battery Park.  The tunnel was dark and echoed with jubilant runners who still had the energy to hoot and holler just to hear their voices bounce off the acoustics of the tunneled walls.  I had no such energy.  Halfway through the tunnel we began to ascend – the last hill before the finish.  Once we exited into the light, the hill got even steeper and most of the runners at this point turned into walkers.  But not me.  I trudged along – happy to have run the whole race without stopping.

At the 13-mile point I saw Stefany and Sam again, standing with their signs and cheering me on.   The finish line was packed with people and I knew I had enough energy to find one last burst to the finish.  So, burst I did, waving at Sam who cheered me on and fueled my final sprint to the finish.  I raised my hands in the air for my finishing photo and got my medal… or should I say Sam’s medal.  2:28 was my final time – which is well slower than I hoped but not all that unexpected given my injury and how it hampered my training.

But there were plenty of good parts to the day.  Despite my normal post-race pain that always forces me to sit for 15-20 minutes to regroup before I can comfortably walk again, my stress-fractured leg never once bothered me at all.  This, in itself, is a victory as I can feel much more confident in the training weeks ahead.

After the race, my sister Pauline and my niece Madison came into the city and we took the girls to the Museum of Natural History.  I trudged on tired legs through the butterfly thing and dinosaur halls.  We finished up in the planetarium, watching what must have been a wonderful presentation by Neil DeGrasse Tyson.  But I really wouldn't know... because with my medal still hung around my neck and my head tilted back in the darkness, I slept.   Hey, I think I earned it.