What Is Mile 20?

I stood distraught, just past the finish line in Central Park after completing my first NYC Marathon. I stared down at my borrowed stopwatch and pondered. Not exactly the time I was looking for... not quite the improvement I was hoping for after a springtime 4:40 in Paris and a 2:00 time in the San Diego half in August. So many conversations inside my head during the last hour of running, walking, perpetually crawling, but certainly not stopping. I worked my way through the thick post-marathon crowd as heat blankets, medals and carb-goodies were handed out and thought about the afternoon. It hurt to think that so many people had done their part to get me to New York and I was not able to hit the mark I was looking for. It hurt to think that the people who traveled from three blocks to three-thousand miles away weren't going to see me deliver on a marathon best time. As I continued through the mass of tired, exhausted bodied past the caravan of UPS trucks, I thought about the day and how something that had started so convincingly perfect ended up in a disaster. But did it?

Conditions at the race start were perfect - slight overcast with temperatures in the low 50s. My legs felt rested and more importantly, my foot that had been bothering me since August appeared healthy. After milling around the Ft. Wadsworth compound prior to the race, it was time to line up for the gun and get going. By some stroke of luck, Chris came back from a last minute trip to the port-a-potties with Heather in tow. We had planned to meet both her and Ed at the Team Continuum meeting place, but with 38K people on hand, it was hard to find our own shoelaces, let alone a couple of fellow runners. Suddenly the contingency of high school friends from Apache Junction who decided it might be a good time to go running in NY on a Sunday in November were all together for the start of the race!

We arrived at the base of the Verrazzano Bridge just in time to hear the star-spangled banner and see the elite runners off... then, with "New York, New York" blaring in the background, we were on our way. Adrenaline was certainly pumping as we headed up the steepest part of the course. With a choruses of congratulations, wishes of good luck and simply taking in the view of the lower Manhattan skyline so far off in the distance, we headed into Brooklyn. At mile 8, Chris & I started to look for my mother in the crowd. And, along with my uncle and aunt, she was standing bundled up waiting for us and cheering us on. After a few quick pictures, we were recharged as we headed down the treelined streets of Brooklyn. Before long, we also spotted Laurie & Courtney with our names on signs... again, a few pictures and kisses and we were charging off again. A brief look at the watch showed that we were ahead of the 4:30 pace team we lined up with at the beginning of the race.

Plowing through Williamsburg, I pointed out to Chris a bagel place that I had visited once and a location that Sean has once shot a short film. Chris & I, as has become tradition, chatted about our lives during the run... topics ranged from happiness with our current jobs or directions we wanted to go next to the differences that our lives have taken so far. As we discussed school and spouses we wound our way into Queens and beneath our feet, saw yellow chalk art rooting on Lance Armstrong, who was running in his first marathon. We came upon the Queensboro bridge and headed into Manhattan. It was hard to believe that we were more than half-way through the race at this point. The thick midtown towers loomed between the slats of the bridge as we ran in near darkness uphill for about a 1/2 mile... then, as we headed down into the city, I started to see a quickly ascending wall of people forming. Cheering, screaming, waving, ringing bells and handing out goodies!

Chris and I were cruising up the sea of people on Manhattan's 1st Ave... mile 16... 17.. mile 17.5... 18... I begged Chris for a short break to sip my cup of gatorade. The walk breaks were showing up more frequently and Chris made note. For some reason, in my head and in my body, I was being told I couldn't keep going... Chris kept telling me "today he was crossing the finish line with me, so we'd better get going!" We crossed... well, we walked across the Willis Street Bridge into the Bronx and Mile 20... Chris kept pushing me, "we were going to finish this race, we only had an hour to go, we were going to be seeing all our families and loved ones in just short order"... but the pain which had suddenly formed in my quadriceps wasn't leaving and my head wasn't able to shake this. I gave Chris another faithful try and then looked at him with my arm draped around his shoulder and told him to GO!!!

For the next 2-3 miles I walked in slow, stunned pain trying incredibly to figure out exactly how to handle this. In Paris, pure fear of failure had kept me going. Here I was perplexed because I started the morning with such confidence that I was going to have a great race and finish between 4:30 - 5:00... minutes became miles and I had crossed back into Manhattan and Harlem... Crowds at this northern point of the marathon course were sparse at best, with most waiting for the bus or carrying home their groceries. Every 500 feet or so, I would throw my legs back out in front of me and resume a slow, hobbled jog only to return to my comforted walking pace a short time later.

As the miles passed so slowly, the pace clock seemed to speed up... I continued to calculate and recalculate how far I was from slipping off my goal number. Soon the 4:45 pace teams passed me and the insanity inside my head began to peak. Interestingly enough, there were quite a few other handfuls of walkers at this point in the race and everyone seemed friendly with each other. A few even struck up conversations with me, but my bitter disappointment fended off even the most noble attempts at comraderie.

The desolate streets of Harlem gave way to Manhattan's toney 5th Ave and Central Park... the autumn-colored leaves and falling sun made for quite the scene, but my mood was a bit fowl to say the least. Then, my brother and his wife popped out of the crowd approaching mile 24. My first instinct was to show my displeasure in my performance in the afternoon, but he seemed to have a different take on it... he was congratulating me and telling me that I was about to finish the New York City Marathon! He also told me that I was going to LOVE my trip through the park! I started nearing the park and suddenly the people who had been such a force eight miles earlier were back... but this time they were making it personal... They were calling out people by the names on their shirts, race numbers, any identifier they could and encouraging the runners through the last three plus miles... among the calls I started to hear, "C'mon, BIG PEACH!"... it took me a few seconds to comprehend, who was this "Big Peach" they root for? Have I put on that much weight? Do I just look like I am from Georgia?.. then I made the connection, I made the decision not wear the Team Continuum shirt with my name on it in favor of my comfortable long-sleeved Big Peach Running Co shirt... I was "Big Peach!" My mood began to lift and it was time to run again... as much as my burning, pounding quads would let me - that is...

Running through the park, not only did the crowd coax you, but the race signs coaxed you by telling you, ONLY TWO MILES LEFT, ONLY ONE MILE LEFT, 800 YARDS... I rounded Columbus Circle and saw the big screen and the stands... I was running like it was mile one again... I could see the finish and that is all I needed... 400 yards, 300, 200... 100... and FINISH... 5:12:15.

I have wondered over and over again, "what went wrong"? Was it the pace that we set out at? Was it the eating/drinking routine during the race? Did I not train enough... running a mere 25 miles in my final month before the marathon and skipping out on my mid-week runs to heal the foot seemed to certainly affect me... Did I 'hit the wall' or 'bonk'?

It is funny to hear people's reaction about my time... most are impressed that I finished and the time seems inconsequential... some of the more cynical and ignorant people comment on the time by reverse-engineering into a "per minute" total and comparing it a mile time they ran in gym class once in high school... ironically none of these guys have gotten to the start line.

As I made my way to the Family Reunion area, I started to think about this event and what I should take away from it... Was my experience a failure? I sure felt disheartend. When I arrived at the "N" section, I started to shrug and apologize, and again I was surprised by the enthusiasm of my family and friends. After some pictures and food, my body was tired and we started to make our way back to the hotel and I began to think again... What was my original purpose for running:

- To educate people about Avi & my father... Well, I realized that I have certainly done that thanks to each and everyone of you, as I had raised almost $2,500.00 for Team Continuum in the process. This was pretty amazing considering the hill I faced at the beginning of this fund raising when I wondered if I would get more than $200 in total. Now I was a major contributor to the largest charity organization present in this year's NYC marathon with 322 athletes and more than $1.2-million raised.

- To run one of the world's most premiere events in one of the world's premiere cities with two people that I've know for over 20 years... and well, I will always relish the memory of the three of us giving each other gentle fist pumps heading up the Verrazzano Bridge at the start of the race with the lower Manhattan skyline looking ever so slight in the distance... "New York, New York" playing in the background.

I also think about the things that have come from this experience:

- The amazing power of LOVE & FAMILY - Seeing my mom looking out into the mass of runners for us at mile 8, seeing my brother jump out in front of me at mile 24 when I was completely discouraged and dissappointed, hearing from so many people who made the trip from as close as three miles and as far away as 3000 miles that it was just great to see everyone. I remember back to my cousin Robin's wedding in 1996 in DC when a family member asked me what i thought of the event that morning and i said, "Yeah, the food was incredible..." He replied, "Forget the food, how about everyone being together." Later, when I walked into the Indian food restaurant across from our hotel for a post-race meal and saw my East-Coast brothers & sisters and their families sitting there waiting to surprise me, I knew it wasn't about the food... it was about all of us being together, something my father spent so much time trying to get us to experience!

- The drive and desire to "Just Do Better" at every single thing I do...

- Learning how to deal with failure - for the 2nd time this year. (Thinking back to earlier in March, when I took my GMAT for the first time trying to get into Emory and how shocked I was then with my score and how, with the pressure on and time dissappearing I retook the test and scored well enough to get in).

It was somewhat comforting to see the footage on TV of Lance Armstrong, SEVEN-time Tour de France winner and ESPN Athlete of the Year, hobble across the line after finishing his first marathon in a blistering 2:59:39. Then to hear his quote in the New York Times that this was the, "single most difficult thing he has ever physically done" was validation that what I had accomplished was plenty difficult no matter what the time.

I want to make sure that I thank each and everyone of you who has contributed to this 2006 NYC Marathon... whether it was your financial support for me or Team Continuum or asking me about the training, reading this blog and in general for your enthusiasm and thoughts... I will always look back on this event with fondness... And well, as far as my time... The Georgia Marathon is March 25th and Doug Cohen has been a running monster to get ready for it, so I'd better get going...........