On To Other Things...

Twelve months ago, I began this blog to document my efforts to train for and complete the 2008 New York City Marathon. Now, it’s time to formally bring this chapter of my life to a close with a conversation about why I set out to achieve this unusual goal.


November 22, 2008 marked the fifth anniversary of my life threatening battle and recovery from septic shock and multiple organ failure. The painful and tragic memory of that time has never left me. Running the NYC Marathon and cycling multiple 100-mile century rides this fall was my absurdly symbolic way of saying, "I didn't die. I am still alive."

At this point, the details of my illness are of little consequence. I had just started a new job and my youngest daughter was 10 months old. After a tumultuous nine months of unemployment, it seemed like things were finally turning around. With a new baby in the house, free time was at a premium.

I went to work on Friday, November 21, 2003 and felt a little under the weather. Nothing special. Just a cold, I thought. I had just completed my first 100-mile “Century” bike ride just a month earlier and was looking forward to Thanksgiving and New Years.

By Saturday night, I was dying and didn't know it. A bacteria had taken hold of my system. The loss of my spleen in 1986 made me a candidate for infection, but nothing like this had ever happened before. In the wee hours of Sunday morning, November 23, I was rushed to the emergency room where doctors attempted to save my life

For three weeks, while I lay asleep in a coma, my life hung by a thread. My circulatory system, lungs and kidneys had all failed. A ventilator was breathing for me and my blood was cleansed by a dialysis machine every few days as a team of doctors worked tirelessly to save my life.


Forty-two days later I was discharge. The doctors had succeeded and the cost was fairly minor: four toes were amputated in late January. In order to save itself, my body had turned off circulation to my extremities. A small price to pay.


The journey back to life was short. By March I was back at work and by May I was on my bike, completing the 42-mile Five Boro Bike Tour. But a lingering cloud remained. Year after year, I would return to the hospital on November 22 and visit the nurses in the ICU. It was not a pleasant trip. But I could never let it go. My life had been saved in this place. It was hallowed ground.


So, as 2007 came to a close, I knew I needed to do something to mark the fifth anniversary of this unfortunate episode of my life. And the idea to run the NYC Marathon, with no prior experience as a runner, was born.


Looking back now, it truly was an absurd experiment. But after nine NYRR races, three major biking events and the NYC Marathon, this year will come to a close as one of the most amazing years of my life.


And five years after almost dying makes it that much more special.

The Finish Line

This is what things looked like around mile 17 on First Ave. and 77th Street. I was feeling great and maintaining a very even pace throughout the event. (More photos are available on my Facebook page)

A big thank you to all the folks who came out and supported me on the course last Sunday:

Mark and Benjamin Krasnow, who drove in all the way from Boston!!

Tim "Golden Boy" Riordan, who came in all the way from Louisville, KY and has followed my adventures since 1981 when we both worked at the Burger King in West Orange, NJ.

My parents, Eileen and Arthur Kleinberg, who seemed very proud of their son and are still a little surprised that I managed to complete this whole thing.

My cousin Andrew Gold, the "official" Team Kleinberg photographer who took some great pictures and my aunt, Syma Gold, who also seemed astonished that I could actually do a marathon.

Sakura Komiyama Amend, who has been an endless source of encouragement throughout this entire year and kick-started this effort by giving me my membership in the NY Road Runners Club as a gift.

Jordin, Chloe and Simone Isip who gave me a big yell as I flew past 6th Street and 4th Ave.

Dr. Barbie Gatton, who, as a resident physician at NY Methodist Hospital, helped save my life in 2003. Dr. Gatton is the only person to catch me TWICE along the course without standing in either of my two "official" cheering sections.

Liane Ramirez Swierk who, at 117th Street and Fifth Ave., holds the honor of being my Northern-most cheerleader from her vantage point in Harlem.

Meghan Clinton, who yelled really, really loud with her fiancee, Dave, and managed to get my attention in the final miles of Fifth Ave.

Ted Greenberg, at mile 24, who also yelled really loud and caught my eye as I started to explode in the final miles.

And, a special thanks to Amy Jaick who was there at the starting line and ran her own great race.

Unlike Lance Armstrong, I will not say that this is the hardest thing I have ever done. In fact, doing the BikeMS 100-mile ride last month in the freezing cold rain was probably harder.

The NYC Marathon was, however, the most rewarding thing I may have ever done. Getting out on that course and hearing the cheers from millions of people, you can't help but get pumped up. Feeling the result of 12-months of really hard endurance training as I crossed the finish line gave me a sense of accomplishment that will be pretty hard to top.

When I began this journey, exactly 12-months ago, I had no idea how long it would take to complete 26.2 miles. It all started with one mile on the treadmill. I knew in my heart that if I had to, I would walk. But as the training progressed, the impossible slowly came into focus. I could, indeed, run non-stop for a long period of time and complete lengthy distances.

After I crossed the Willis Ave. Bridge into the Bronx and passed the 20-mile threshold, I sensed that not only could I complete the race, I could do it in a decent time. Twenty miles was the furthest I had ever run. Beyond that distance represented the great beyond. What lay beyond that point in space was impossible to imagine. But I was there.

I had very optimistically felt that 4:30 was achievable. However, if I had come in at 4:45 or even 5:00, I would have been happy. Getting in at or before the 5:00 limit was something of a goal because I wanted to be listed in the NY Times on Monday.

With three miles to go, the course was back in Manhattan and entering Central Park. I looked at my watch -- 4:00 exactly. "I can do this race in 4:30," I said to myself. It was mine to loose. And, we were already in the Park, my home turf. The race was over. With three miles left, it was no longer a question of "if" I would finish.

I kicked into high gear and fought off the pain in my legs that was telling me to slow down. I had no significant pain throughout the whole event but now, in the final few miles, as I fought hard to maintain an aggressive pace, the suffering began.

Exiting out on to 59th Street, the crowds were roaring. I was passing people on either side of me who were running out of gas. I still had fuel. The Time Warner Center was dead ahead. All I needed to do was get back to the Park. Over and over again, I told myself that this race was over. Just finish it.

I kept going. Passing people, looking for holes in the crowd. The course took a sharp right turn and re-entered Central Park. A band was playing AC/DC's "Highway to Hell." My legs were burning as the roadway suddenly narrowed. With fewer holes, I started dodging people faster than before.

And there it was: the finish line. The end of 12-months of training. The end of everything. In a few seconds it would all be over. The clock in my head was ticking very loudly. It was all going to be over. All the early morning training runs. All the miles on my bike. All the people I had spoken to and asked advice. The money had been raised. There was nothing left. I had nothing in the tank. I was being drawn away from the past 12-months and into the future. It was rushing towards me. I had no idea what was on the other side of that line and didn't care. The entire selfish reason for my existence over the past year was about to be realized...

And then it was over. I crossed the finish line. It was over. Finished. I was empty and wasted. I had nothing left. I reached for my left arm to stop the clock.

04:32:08

Notes:

• I arrived at the starting line in Staten Island at 5:59am
• I started the NYC Marathon at 10:33am
• My pace was 10:23/mile
• I burned 3505 cal (35 percent fat)
• My Avg. Heart Rate: 144bpm
• Avg. Heart Rate as percentage of Max: 81
• Max Heart: 206 (an erroroneous number; possible picked up from a runner nearby)
• My finishing weight (what I weighed the following morning when I woke up): 167lbs.

Some statistics about my NYC Marathon performance: 37,899 people completed the marathon this year. Of those, 25,072 were men and 12,827 were women. I placed 27,478 overall, in the 37th percentile among the entire group. Among the men, I placed in the 26th percentile. However, among my age group (40-44), I placed in the 71st percentile.

The conditions for the race could not have been better: 47°F, 41% humidity, wind NE 8 mph.

I was one of 16,257 participants who had never run a marathon before.

4:32:08

Finish time: 4:32:08
Pace: 10:23/mile

And I basically sprinted the last mile. More later, including photos.

Here's a short video of me picking up my number tonight at the NYC Marathon Expo held at the Javits Center. Testing out my new Palm Centro camera.

Free advice

During the course of the previous 12-months, I have solicited advice from as many people as I could. In nearly all cases, the information and tips they gave me has been extremely helpful. Hassan Bailey, my trainer from NYSC, played a very important role early on in this effort by giving me the confidence and motivation I needed to keep going.




However, the single most valuable supplier of free advice has been Todd, the manager of Jack Rabbit in Park Slope. I first met Todd last fall when I came into the store to buy my first pair of running shoes. He seemed like the kind of person I never wanted to associate with: an accomplished athlete who who had probably forgotten more about fitness than I would ever be learning in my lifetime. He clearly knew what he was doing. As an amateur, that's an intimidating feeling.


It wasn't until many months later, when I went to the store to get some advice about a pain in my calf, that we got to talking and I learned just how wise he is in the ways of the triathlete.

So, in tribute to Todd, who promises to be down on 4th Avenue on Sunday, here is a short list of some of the things he has taught me over the past year:

1) How to tie my shoes to relieve pain. Hard to explain but you can make and extra loop with the highest eye. It worked immediately.

2) Use a calf roller. He described it as a deep-tissue massage and it really worked to relieve pain.

3) Triathlete shorts are an excellent alternative to compressions shorts and wick water much better than bike shorts

4) Apply Body Glide to various points on the body to reduce chafing. Apparently they sell more of this stuff than any other item in the store.

5) Take the Prospect Park Track Club bus to the starting line of the NYC Marathon.

6) Perspiration is a good thing, just manage your water intake.

7) Use the Polar RS100 heart rate monitor. It's simple, inexpensive, and works.

Six Days

As the days wind down, I really have very little to do except wait and preserve my health. I just can't get sick. Feeling bad is not an option.

On my way to work this morning I almost stabbed a woman sitting next to me who kept coughing into her sleeve over and over again. If I had not been so tired I definitely would have gotten up and moved somewhere else. Then I noticed the guy in front of me sneezing and the woman to my right who smelled profoundly like cat. It was like some weird "germ spawning zone" and all of a sudden I was the hypochondriac.

I've been taking daily doses of vitamin C to preserve my health which, until today, felt pretty good. Unfortunately, my stomach has been giving me some problems since Sunday when I had some pasta for dinner. That has all been compounded by a dramatic change in the weather that has left me sleepy with a slight headache all day.

I went running on Friday evening at the gym and probably overdid it. I was watching U2's "Rattle and Hum" movie on the monitor and just took off in a sprint during "Where the Streets Have No Name." I think I must have been going at about 9mph at one point. Probably not the best of moves. The guy running to my right seemed like he was training for the marathon as well and must have thought I was nuts.

I ran to and from the gym and did four miles on the treadmill for a total of 5.18 miles that night.

On Sunday I ran from my old neighborhood in Cobble Hill back to Park Slope for a total of about 3.66 miles. I ended up adding a little distance at the end just to kill time. I was hoping to do about 4 miles but it ended up being just 3.66 in about 35 minutes. The weather was great and I tested out all of my equipment.

This morning, under a nearly black sky at 7:16am, I did a lap around Prospect Park. I kept a nice easy pace but started feeling some unusual pain in my ankles and lower calf. Hopefully that will not persist. I took some Tylenol later in the day and the pain seemed to dissipate.

I'm looking forward to sleeping late once this whole thing is over.

Real-time Race Updates

Please let me know if you would like to be included on a list of people recieving my race day e-mail updates. These updates will automatically transmit my movements as I move through the course.

Without getting too technical, I will be wearing a small device on my shoe that will track my progress as I cross specific points in the race. This will also track my start and finish times. As I pass certain points, the device will trigger an e-mail that will be sent to whoever is on my list of recipients.

Some more information about this feature can be found here.