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.
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.
