4:00 am. That’s what the clock says. And I have to pee. “Don’t start thinking about the race. Just go to the bathroom and get back to sleep. Two more hours for sleep. Oh no, now I’m doing math. Just go back to sleep.”
5:30 am. I’m still not asleep. “Maybe I should just get up? I’ll just lay here for a few more minutes and see if I can’t get back to sleep for another half hour. But if I get up now, I could get to the ferry sooner. What time was everyone taking the ferry? Let me check my phone. NO. Go back to sleep!”
6:00 am. “Okay, time to get up. Check your phone. Everyone is meeting at 7:15? No way that is happening with a 45 minute commute. We’ll shoot for 7:30. Let’s go make some food.”
Once I was up and moving, I warmed up some day old GF pancakes and had some breakfast. It wasn’t a breakfast choice that I had trained with, but I thought it was mild enough to be okay. Besides, the bagel with nutella had seemed to have upset my stomach on my last long run. The pancakes yesterday morning did not. Got breakfast down then started to get dressed. It seemed to take forever to get everything on, my hair braided, shoes on, and pre-race bag packed. I did manage to TCB before heading out. I made it out of the house by 6:48 — 3 minutes off schedule.
Got to the subway and there were other marathon runners. Chatted with a girl who didn’t get hardly any sleep the night before. The train came pretty quickly and I was off to Union Square for my transfer. I attached my bibs on my way there. There were a couple of people that were still in costume and obviously heading home from partying. A guy dressed up as what I can only imagine was supposed to be a hipster rabbit almost stepped on me. I moved to the end of the train and for a moment thought how different my life is now than it was 10 years ago. At Union Square we waited forever for the train and I realized that I was going to miss everyone at the ferry. The train took so long that I started to get nervous. By the time I was on the train, my tummy was flip flopping a bit. I tried to calm myself, but knew that wouldn’t happen until we got the ferry terminal.
7:40 am. Finally at the ferry terminal and I am the first up the stairs and rush through the turnstiles. I burst out of the subway ready to dash to the ferry and notice some people behind barricades on either side of the subway entrance. I think to myself how odd it is that people would come to watch runners get on the ferry. About a second later, NYPD stops me and asks me to move to the side where I notice just how many people are waiting. And that they are runners. I ask someone what is going on and they tell me that they aren’t letting anyone into the ferry terminal until the next ferry leaves. I hear a woman say, “I’m not running this marathon. I’m just trying to get home.” NYPD has us move down the barricades then eventually behind them. I tuck in to the side of the crowd, hoping to skip a long wait. I’ve now made friends with a runner next to me and chatting with him calms my nerves. Before I know it we are moving. Everyone is pushing, though, and at one point a man full on elbows his way passed me. I get stopped a few people short of making it into the terminal and packed in like a sardine. A runner asks me how long it will take to get to the start from here and I tell him my friends inside who arrived at 7:15 are still waiting for a ferry. His start time is 10:15. I reassure him that he will make it on time based on my knowledge of how long the ferry and bus ride are. After a minute or two, NYPD lets more of us go. As I am heading into the terminal I hear someone shout my name and look over to see my friend, Hayley. She is over to the side and there are a bunch of runners ahead of her waiting to be let in.
Inside the ferry terminal, I rush passed the meandering runners directly to the restroom. There is a line, but it isn’t too bad and I am in and out within about 5 minutes. As luck would have it, a ferry is boarding right next to the bathroom and I scoot into the crowd and a few minutes later I am on a boat full of runners about to head to Staten Island.
On the boat, I wander trying to find a spot to settle. Everywhere that I pause, someone tells me they are saving a spot for someone. What is this middle school? I decide to pop out on the west facing deck to get a view of the city as we are leaving. That spot is soon overwhelmed by people pushing and sticking their arms and cameras in front of my face to take pictures of the view. I pop off a quick shot and head downstairs which is filled with runners. I decide to position myself as close to the exit as possible despite the chilly breeze coming in from the open doors.
I start to notice more and more runners coming downstairs so I get up to see how close we are to the Staten Island terminal. Just a little bit to go so I head for the doors. We dock, the doors open, and I am off the boat in less than a minute and heading to the buses. Runners are jogging through the crowd to the buses and there are volunteers yelling to walk. It’s a freaking zoo. I get outside expecting to see a few buses and to board immediately. Instead, I am greeted by a mass of people wrapped around the street. There is a long line of buses that takes off about a minute later. I text my friends that met at the ferry terminal at 7:15 that were inside waiting for a ferry while I was waiting outside. They are still waiting for a bus. Excellent. It’s 8:34 am.
The line for the buses moves faster than expected despite the many runners who aren’t listening to directions and slowing things down. I can hear runners chatting with their friends about being nervous about making it to the start on time. A girl in a Wonder Woman outfit is convinced she and her friend aren’t going to make it on a bus despite a bus being right in front of us and about to open it’s doors. I reassure her that we will all get on a bus and to the start. A few seconds later, the bus doors open and she pushes passed me. I get on the bus and head back to the first available seat by the back doors. There is a woman in the window seat who seems to know a few rows of runners. I pull my Larabar out of my bag and eat it. The bus starts moving.
As far as I understood, the bus ride from the terminal to Fort Wadsworth is 20-30 minutes. We were on the bus for much longer. It seemed to take forever. I started talking to the woman next to me. This is her third marathon. She did NYC as her first two. She assures me that I am going to have a blast. We start talking about training and one point she informs me that regardless of my training, at some point I will feel like I am going to die. Great. I can’t stop looking at her eyelashes. They are really nice and she obviously used good mascara. Then I wonder why she would put on mascara. I immediately start to doubt our similarities and reassure myself that I am not going to feel like I am dying. Can’t let a losing mentality creep in.
The start village
We finally get to Fort Wadsworth and soon as the back doors open, I am off the bus. There are NYPD everywhere yelling that we have to take off our watches and belts and put them into our bags. I remove my watch while walking towards the metal detectors and am through them within a minute. An officer passes my bag back and another runner grabs it and starts to dart off. An officer stops her and corrects her mistake. I think to myself that all these people are crazy and need to calm down. It’s 9:27 am. I’ve been commuting for almost 3 hours now.
I walk down a long walkway to the entrance of Fort Wadsworth. It’s a crazy mess of runners. There are announcements in multiple languages. There are volunteers yelling things to the runners. There are people jogging through the crowd, people rushing about, almost bumping into me or stepping on my feet. I just need to find the orange corrals. Elaine, Heather, and Kim are in the orange corrals. The signs help to get me to the orange village and the map I downloaded to my phone the night before gets me to the corrals. Heather has sent me several messages with details about where they are, but I can’t seem to find them. It’s a bit like a scavenger hunt. “Hmmmm… there’s the ‘dispose clothes here’ sign… where is the guy holding the Team for Kids sign? Oh, there he is… wait, where are they again? Corral F. In the corral? That doesn’t make sense. Okay, let’s text Heather. She’s not answering. What do I do? There is the pacer tent! Let’s go see if Elaine is there!” I get to the pacer tent and see Elaine. I holler for her a few times and she doesn’t hear me. She finally sees me and waves me in. Apprehensively, I head into the pacer area and notice that Heather is there with her, too. I FOUND THEM! It’s 10:00 am. We have 15 minutes before we have to head to the corrals. And I feel like I need to TCB.
The pacer tent is warm and I need to get organized. So I spend the next few minutes shedding layers, putting on my belt, organizing my stuff, and eating my banana. I pull out my two pre-race Honey Stingers and ask if there is any water. No water. Dang it. I use the portalets 3 times in 15 minutes trying to TCB before we head to the corrals. No dice. It’s 10:15 and we need to head to the corrals.
We head out and within a couple of seconds it is apparent that known of us know where we are going. Where are the blue corrals? I thought I passed them on the way in, but the signs seem to say otherwise. As we wander, I notice a water stand. WATER! Grab 2 waters and after a few minutes of wandering, I try to direct us back to where I think the blue corrals are again. At some point, someone gives us directions. They are where I thought they were! We start heading that way. So many people keep stopping Elaine on the way there. She seems to know everyone running. I down my Stingers and drink some water while we walk. We get to the area just outside corral A and Elaine escorts us to the front of the crowd. We wait a few minutes and during that time I realize I have to pee again. So does Heather and Kim. There are portalets in the corral. They let us in the corral and Elaine starts scurrying to the front. We scurry right passed the portalets. We get to the front of the corral and it fills up behind us. We question whether we could make it back to the portalets and back through the crowd. One of the volunteers tells us it will be 15-20 minutes until we walk to the bridge, but doesn’t think we could push back through to the front. We decide to hold it. About 10 minutes later after joking with volunteers, taking photos, and joking about our bladders, some military walk over and link arms with the volunteers. We are about to get walked to the bridge.
The walk to the bridge is a slow march behind the military people and volunteers. We make jokes along the way. We stop every so often when we have to turn a corner and they have to maneuver our front line escort. We wander through a route created by lining buses end to end. Finally we snake our way around a final corner and we can see the entrance to the bridge and the start line. There will be no one starting in front us today. We are the elites of Wave 4.
We stop in front of a stage with more military, lots of flags, and a really excited guy talking into a microphone about the greatest city and race in the world. The national anthem is sung by a guy who is wearing a shirt that says something like “The internet eats brains.” He is also running the race this morning and will hop into our corral after he finishes singing. The announcer comes back and gives us our “On your mark” then the cannons fire and Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” starts playing. We cross the start line with no one in front of us. It’s 11:03 am.
The story continues in Part 3, The Race Report.