The New York City Marathon 2013 for Dad

ING NYC Marathon - Fulfilling a lifelong goal and finishing an honor for Dad

My team, me on the course, and of course my dad.

Sign Up and History:

Around May of 2012, still dealing with the aftermath of my fathers passing and looking to do something to continue my Dad's battle in the fight against cancer, I decided to run on Fred's team of Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center to raise funds in my dad's name specifically against the disease that he had fought so hard against.  The offer to join Fred's team, at the hospital he fought at and benefited from the research that I would begin to raise funds for, was too good to pass up.  The team, named for Fred Lebow who was the founder of the NYC marathon and president of the New York Road Runners during the biggest expansion in running in the country and city (most of the time due to his vision), was dedicated after Mr. Lebow lost his own battle against cancer in the mid-90's after incredibly finishing the '92 race while undergoing treatments for brain cancer.  Like so many other brave cancer patients and historic sporting events, the story behind the well publicized events is often deeper and more enriched than the stuff you hear on the news.  I would learn over the next two years that there are thousands of people who run the marathon for charities, the story of Fred Lebow and the team that bares his name isn't known by enough people, and that the marathon itself somehow is more amazing than you would imagine despite being the worlds most famous, most covered, and largest attended race.

One of the early stat boards from the team meetings 

Back to May of 2012.  I spent a weekend in Cape May, NJ with my wife who was down coaching her gymnastics team in state championships.  She was a tremendous source of strength for me during those months (and all the other ones) and was the driving support in how I finished my marathon goal and reached my fundraising goals for Fred's Team.  During this visit, while T was coaching her team to numerous new athletic heights (her team was once an afterthought at meets and not seriously a contender, but in a few short years her dedication and expertise had brought them to state prominence), I went for a run on the southern tip of Cape May near the lighthouse and then spent a little time at the beach cooling down from the run when the email that changed my life and would set me on a two year mission came in through my phone.  It began simply enough with the subject line, "Can you imagine a world without cancer?".  As I went through the email, it described a fund raising team set up to honor Fred with a mission of raising as much money as possible for cancer research where the proceeds would go to Sloan for cutting edge research.  The email also described their mission as one that would not simply raise funds, but to do so in a way to honor loved ones and survivors of the team along the way.  Perhaps still a little raw from the loss of my father and feeling good from a short beach run thinking about the chance to finally run the NYC marathon, I signed up immediately.  Having run a marathon in NJ and many other distance races, I thought I knew what I had ahead of me ... little did I know it would be more of a roller coaster than I knew (mentally and emotionally) and that although the day of the race is the bucket list accomplishment that you expect it to be ... the journey was just as unbelievable.  

Early Training

After several long distance races in the past few years, the challenge for this race was different. It wasn't a local race or a 5k, it was the famous NYC marathon that I watched as a kid on TV and said to my dad that someday I would run it.  This made the idea to run it uniquely special and the challenge difficult as the field and course were tougher than I had ever raced against before.  I remember my dad saying, when I told him I would run a marathon, that I could do anything I put my mind too.  I also remember the look on his face at the finish line of the 2009 NJ marathon - he was so proud.  He said, "I can't imagine running 26 miles.  But, I knew you'd do it though once you said you would".  I was very happy we had that moment in Long Branch, but to me I still had NYC in my mind.  After failing to get in the lottery a few times while he was with us, I wasn't going to leave this time with a chance to honor him up to the lottery - Fred's team was something that gave me the guaranteed entry and a chance to honor him at the same time - it was the chance of a lifetime!  The early runs in year one were smaller, easier runs around NJ.  Within the first two weeks, I received so many offers of support through email, text messages, and calls that it was easy to get out on those early runs.  The marathon however, isn't earned by the few early runs or regular fun runs ... the work is done on the mornings you don't want to get up, on the days you feel tired, and especially the days where the calendar calls for double digit runs during a busy work week.  I signed up for several races and had a lot of weekend runs with my first Jersey running club - the Old Bridge Road Runners.  By Fathers Day, I had run over 50 miles in the three weeks since signing up.  Now it was a real goal.  Our Fathers Day almost always consisted of sports events.  There were numerous rounds of golf, a few baseball games, and the amazing day we spent at the US Open final at Beth Page Black in '02.  Fathers Day was a sports day and will continue to be for me and dad.  The only difference now is that he is with me in the runs I do ... fathers day 2012 - I do my first double digit run of the NYC training plan.  It seems easier to do it on fathers day, but then again it always seemed easier when you have someone in your corner who told you that you can do anything you put your mind too.  Some highlights of the first year of training are included in the Race Stories post I did a while back so I won't recount them here.

My dad and grandmother - with me on the longer runs! 

In thinking back on my run, is is hard to separate the feeling of doing this for my father and the outpouring of support from amazing people who made this run possible through donations to sponsor my run.  My work staff donated over 400 dollars (I didn't publicize it, a teacher I spoke with found the page and sent it out without me knowing) - amazing caring teachers who give back to our community everyday and sending a few bucks from a stretched salary to help me achieve my dream.  It was amazing and very humbling that they did that for me.  I also received support from over a hundred friends, colleagues, and acquaintances who donated in ranges from 5 dollars to over 300.  Each and every bit really did add up as I made my fund raising goal and secured my spot with plenty of time before the deadline to make the field for the race.  My family: my mom, brother Keith, and Tracy's family all made amazingly generous donations that I can never repay with simple words.  They did it to support me and to honor my dad.  When you have people like this in your corner, you know you will achieve your goal no matter how big.  My wife, who already supports me in everything I do, had her team collect money and donate it for my run.  Again, with people like this on your side ... nothing is impossible.  As part of my run, I decided to include the names of people who asked for their loved ones to be a part of the run for cancer research ... the names that came from friends, colleagues, and staff all came with the story of the loved one they donated for.  Many had lost the fight, but they saw the donation and my jersey crossing the finish line as a way of keeping up the battle.  Each time I got one of those donations with the story attached, I would go for a run and tag the person on social media or send a private email with a picture of the name added to the jersey.  They all said how much it meant to them, but to me it was a simple small gesture because they were the ones who really made my dream come true by donating and allowing me to run this race.  Again, the best part of the race was the stories, people, and mission to fight cancer by far.  I found myself thinking that when the daily stories of scams or crime in the papers or the evening news got me down on the state of the world, I could renew my faith in people by talking to other runners about their mission, their helping loved ones that are fighting cancer, their desire to run for a cure, and their courage to try something that sounds ridiculous to most people (running 26.2 miles) because they wanted to support their families.

My race jersey with the names and medal from 2012 and 2013

This board follows the team, those who want to add a memory or mission can at any time

In addition to the fundraising and races, the individual training runs (not just the races) are the ones I'll always remember as the meat of the training.  I met so many good running friends at the shore in the OBRR club, in Union as the Union Running Club got its start, and in the city with the Fred's Team members.  Favorite training runs of 2012 included the 10 mile run down Riverside Park after a Teacher College Session at Columbia, a run across the GWB bridge, several around Liberty State Park, and of course the Central Park runs with the team.  Team members included mostly NYC residents (and some of us Jersey folks) from all walks of life, all tax brackets, and all age groups.  Despite all of the different backgrounds and individual personalities, almost all of the participants had one key thing in common: a loved one with or lost from cancer.  Over the first year training with the team, the overwhelming thing I had to wrap my head around was just how amazingly dedicated these people (strangers a few weeks before) were to helping their loved ones win the battle or how committed they were to making their run mean something to their loved ones memory.  Here were experienced runners from some of the great track clubs in NYC and several weekend warriors who would finish hours after the Kenyans all running together sharing stories about their families, the battles and treatments, and sharing the common goal that they just wanted to raise as much money as they could to do their part and to make their families proud.  What an amazing group of people.

Cancer had decided that it would make life difficult for all of these individuals no matter what their job, income level, or social class.  When challenged, the members of Fred's Team collectively decided that they could all come together as a team and answer the challenge with a message of their own - we imagine a world without cancer, one mile at a time.  One of the women that led some of the training runs was a childhood cancer patient at Sloan who was given less than a 10 percent chance of making her 15th birthday.  She was over 40.  She had beaten cancer 4 times.  She ran sub 7 minute miles and kicked my butt on the paths daily.  She is stronger than I will ever be.  A father was running with us whose child was taken before his 10th birthday but the family went though trials to help other kids.  He was in his 40's.  He ran 12 minute miles and routinely made jokes about being slow.  He told everyone he just wanted to help someone else not have to go through what his family did.  He was stronger than I will ever be.  These are the people I met running with Fred's Team on my journey to NYC.

Team Volunteers and Sloan staff sharing stories - November 2, 2013

Cancelation and Aftermath 

Hurricane Sandy became an issue in mid to late-October of 2012 as it made its way up the coast.  Reports by the day became worse.  Strong winds, storm surges, and heavy rains would hit the tri-state worse than any recent storm.  This post isn't the time for the storm stories or the way NYRR's made their decision to cancel the 2012 marathon.  This story is a personal one about the run to honor my father.  At our core and with all common sense in place, we all knew they had to cancel.  The area was devastated, homes and lives gone forever, and the resulting fall out would last for months.  I was happy they canceled.  Too many people needed help and support and a race was the last thing anyone needed.  However, it was natural to be down a bit.  Training for a marathon takes months and is a serious mental and physical effort.  To hear that all you worked for wasn't to be, especially being unsure if we'd be allowed to run the following year was tough.  However, we had our lives, minimal property damage, and eventually the power came back on.  All factors way more important than a race.  I went to volunteer a few times in Seaside, Pt. Pleasant, and Tom's River.  It was tough seeing what families went through.  Within a few months, things were slowly moving on from the storm aftermath to regular planning.  Fred's Team reached out via emails and calls to say that they were honoring our spot, our donations, and that we would all finish the mission we set out for in 2012.  We were back on, but the training would start from scratch.

2013 Training 

2013 was my biggest race year to date with more races than the other years combined.  I honestly believe it was because of the cancelation the previous year.  I decided that I would race more, train more, and be ready again to run the marathon.  During the year, I attend a few survivors sessions where patients spoke of what the fund raising meant to them, doctors sessions where they explained (in technical terms so "explained" isn't the best choice of words) the fundings uses in cutting edge clinical trials and research,  Besides running some great races and being pushed during group runs by the now growing Union Runners Club (an absolutely amazing group of supportive people to run with), I ran many Fred's Team Runs in 2013.  There was a downtown run past the still growing WTC complex, the Brooklyn run to Coney Island, and the regularly scheduled runs in Central Park.  Running with the team in Central Park was a treat/perk that had few equals during the journey.  One of the most famous parks on the planet was our home course for runs, races, and training sessions.  Water stations, tables, bag checks, and countless other supports were set up on every run next to the unofficial loop marker in the park - the statue of Fred Lebow which stands on 90th on the east end of the park.  We were truly treated as the "home team" for a park that shows up in movies and on everyones "to do" list when visiting the city.  Those runs included sections of the park I never knew about or experienced on my day trips in from Jersey.  The Harlem Hills, Belvedere Castle, Cleopatra's Needle, the Met - these were our meeting and landmark spots.  However, the spot we met at for the short runs was uniquely special.  We regularly met at Bethesda Fountain for the shorter runs off the 72 Street Traverse.  As much as I always say that the 2009 NJ marathon changed my professional trajectory ... it was the fountain five years earlier that was the setting for the most important life event I have still experienced ... I proposed to Tracy on a walk through the park in 2004 when we reached the fountain.    I have never been a believe in the "things happen for a reason" philosophy, however the marathon training mission and locations has been something that I cannot explain.

The spot of the proposal and now our meeting spot on runs

Amazing still to think about the Marathon training that year:
Most of the regular training runs I need to attend, 
for the race I have always wanted to run since I was a kid, 
in honor of my dad who fought cancer so bravely, 
raising funds for the hospital where he fought,
were conducted at the place where my life changed forever when she said yes ... perfect.

Despite running the park hundreds of times, there isn't a time when I run by the fountain that I don't think about that day.  She and I not perfect, but we are perfect for one another.  All of the running accomplishments and the goal to try the NYC marathon was because she is so supportive and strong in her own right.  And on the days when I was tired or hurting a bit, I now had two things to motivate me - my dads memory and running by the spot that will always be my favorite spot in the city because of her.

Tracy and I at a friends wedding 

The Pre-RACE

The week of the marathon arrives and the excitement gets to the "I just want to get to the day already" stages.  Months of training have come down to one week of final preparation work.  The most frustrating thing about training for a distance race is the word that is dreaded by all runners - the taper!  In training for long races, the idea is to slowly build a base, then run longer runs for a few months slowly working on pace and distance to ensure your body is ready to make it through the longer miles and tired legs (not to mention the hills in NYC miles 20-25) that the marathon has built into the end of the race, then a few weeks of "tapering" slowing bringing your distance down to ensure strong and fresh legs on the big day.  This is a tough way to train, in fact the term taper is a curse word to most runners.  Just when you feel like you could run through a brick wall or start to wonder just how many miles you could run ... you start limiting yourself.  You feel strong, but stop.  You feel fast, but back it down.  Smarter than us, the coaches tell us that the goal is to feel that way the morning of the race but to have the strength and fresh legs to complete the task.  They are rational and have many more races under their collective racing belts.  To me, I just want those last few days to fly by and to finally get to the start line.

The evening before the race, Fred's Team puts on a carbo-load dinner at BB Kings Blues club in west Times Square / Hells Kitchen area of the city.  The marquee of the restaurant, sitting in the buzzing loud, tourist riddled area at the "cross roads of the world" (as it went by in the early days), says "Welcome Fred's Team ... we run for a world without cancer" as you approach.  Once inside, the atmosphere was very welcoming and positive.  There was a red carpet, a photographer memorizing every moment of the lead up to the big race (including some not advised shots of us eating like we were about to run 26 miles), and a huge buffet in their private dining room (the restaurant was closed for the team for the whole night).  However, the best part of the evening (other than Tracy joining me for the dinner and meeting some of the people I'd come to call teammates) was the speaking program.  Speaker after speaker, the stories became more powerful.  Several of our teammates who had fought cancer and won (and a few who were still fighting) spoke of their desire to finish the race for those that helped them and those who were lost along their treatments.  Several doctors spoke of the decision to run and train for a marathon because of the strength they saw in their patients.  Committed professionals who work insanely long shifts in a profession in which they literately hold peoples lives in their hands chose to give up months of sleep and free time to also train for a marathon in honor of their patients.  A truly special place.

The second to last speaker described in detail some of the research being done at Sloan using the money raised from the team and how it was the only place in the world that had some of the technologies they were pioneering.  The description of the science was fascinating (even if I didn't understand most of it), but his passion for finding a cure and his description of running the marathon a few times despite his size and age was even more compelling.  I began to think that science and research at Sloan may be among the best in the world (the rankings for best hospitals in the US came out this week and unsurprisingly Sloan was rated the number one cancer hospital in the US again), but the single biggest factor that will eventually lead to the eradication of this disease was the caring, passion, and commitment to the people working there.  I later found out that the doctor who was speaking that night was one of the top Oncologists and researchers in the world and we got to hear him describe stem cells and his favorite pair of Asics.    The final doctor they chose was a German Oncologist who came to work on a fellowship years ago and stayed at Sloan due to the programs he was working on and his running his first marathon with the team some years back.  He not only described the personal connections he had with the patients and the wins and losses he goes through daily with this disease, but he described that his favorite part of the marathon was running by the hospital (it is around mile marker 17 on the course) when all the staff and many patients are there with Fred's Team pom poms and signs saying thank you for running from them.  Many of them children fighting cancer.  He said after the race every year (he now runs the race every year), he takes his medal and some of the others he collected and gives them to the kids in the children's oncology wing and tells them that they won the race because they inspired him. It was only after he came down off the bright lights of the stage that I realized I had run with him a few times on training runs.  No pretense, no doctor talk, nothing about the hero he has become to all those kids ... he just talked about his pace and how much he loved running the park.  Running, especially for a cause, is just a universal language.

Once of the coaches during a pep-talk, he was running for relatives with cancer

The morning of the race, we had a pre-race breakfast that was in the Marriott in Times Square.  Again, more speeches and last minute coaching advise.  The teammates I sit with are two I have talked to before (a wall street trader and an advertising agent who moved to NY from London a few years back - both really nice guys and both lost their dads as well, not much needs to be said sometimes with people you share that type of bond with ... we just talk the race and the Yankees offseason needs) and two I do not recognize ... The first gentleman tells me he is 72 and has run the race every year since it moved to five boroughs.  He has since moved on to California, but he comes back for this.  He tells me that the city is "like a movie the day of the race, it is the one day you feel like a rock star as an average Joe.  You talk about the Yankees, even Jeter doesn't hear 2 million people cheer for him at once ... in the NYC marathon you will.  When you come off the bride onto first avenue (Queensboro bridge onto first ave near the hospital), it will be louder than Yankee Stadium during the playoffs".  I'll get more into that later, but for now I'll just say that he was right.  The other man flew in from Japan.  He is running the world marathon series this year and has run in London, Tokyo, Paris, Chicago, Berlin, and basically everywhere in between.  He says his favorite is NYC.  He says the energy here isn't something you feel anywhere else in the world and that though the course is harder than a few others he mentioned, but he adds ... his PR is here.  We, as a group, say that it is awesome that his PR is in NY, he says it is all the spectators.  They push him to run harder and faster because he feeds off the energy of the crowds here.  He was right too.  Finally - we have one last item of business to take care of before the bus ride to Staten Island - a group photo.  In the center of Times Square, a camera man sets up on a ladder that I wouldn't use in my yard much less the middle of Manhattan.  Police block traffic and we take a shot that can only be described as amazing.  A sea of orange shirts, many people who several months ago were not running more than 2 miles are now looking excited about the fact that they will be running 26.2 miles and literally stopping traffic in the center of the busiest intersection in the country to let everyone know about their run.  The ladder was worth it.  I thank one of the officers who will give us a police escort for the buses to the race start.  He says, "No thank you guys.  The hospital does a lot of work for NYPD families and charities that doesn't get publicized and this is the least we can do.  My mom had cancer last year and went to Sloan.  She is still here because of them, kick some ass today".

Fred's Team - Team Photo       Times Square      November 3, 2013

The RACE!  (Start/ Staten Island) - Miles 0 - 1.5 

The starting village is a sea of participants (I would find out later that day that due to the cancelation the previous year a record 50,740 ran the race) in different waves and corrals all excited, nervous, and ready to get underway.  I am slated to start in one of the last waves by drawing and times as the professionals start out first.  You can hear the gun as they begin the race and watching them run up the Verazano Bridge is something I will never forget.  I have watched Jeter, Jordan, Lebron, Barry Sanders, etc all live at sporting events.  All are amazing and individually the best in the world at one time.  None of them is the athlete that the Kenyan who won that day and other elite marathons are.  Sub 4 minute miles up a bridge, in November, with 26 more miles to go ... simply super human.  Mutai wins with a 2:08 time that sounds good for a half marathon.  I think he was back in Kenya by the time I will eventually cross the finish line.  However... that is the beauty of the sport: road running is the one sport that allows truly open competition.  The amazing sports stars I listed above, I would get arrested if I tried to play one on one with any of them.  In racing, the stars and elite athletes complete on the same course, at the same time (a different wave), with the same spectators watching the race.  After around 2 hours of check in, security, coffee, bathroom breaks, and several chats with other runners we are finally placed in our corrals.  The feeling lining up with over 10,000 people in your wave knowing you are going to run past over 2 million people and that all you have been training for, thinking about, and agonizing over is finally here is truly surreal.  You can't believe you are actually about to run the NYC marathon.  I ask a guy next to me if the nerves go away, he says no.  He has run 11 ... he is nervous too.

Finally, our waves gun goes off ... Boom!  As we head up the Verrazano, Frank Sinatra's "New York, New York" plays ... "If I can, make it there ... I'll make it anywhere, its up to you ... New York, Neeeeew Yoooork".  The words feel especially true today.  The Jersey marathon was flat.  NYC starts on a one mile incline up the bridge and then a run down the bridge through a long stretch of Brooklyn.  Any nerves at the start are gone by the time you reach the apex of the bridge.  The energy it takes to run up the bridge focuses you to realize you are actually running the race after all these months of waiting and training (and the sobering thought that after a hill, there are 25 more miles to go doesn't hurt either).  No one told me that the bridge, from the weight of all the people running the bridge at the same time, literally bounces when you run - it is noticeable and a feeling I have never experienced running.  The view from the bridge is amazing.  You can see back into Jersey, The Statue of Liberty and Elis Island seem to be right under your feet, and the vast city of New York is all in front of you.  You can see the full challenge ahead.  Brooklyn is coming into prominence.  Queens looks reachable, but is clearly a longer run ahead of you.  The Bronx is only visible by the water ways that cut in front of it ... obscured by the skyscrapers of Manhattan.  The park is also barely visible.  But the view is amazing, one of my favorite moments of the race.  Starting out on the mission to raise funds for my dad in the race that I have always wanted to run ... the city awaits below.

A long wait to start, but the climb was always in view

The start - official photo from ING Marathon site

Brooklyn   (Miles 1.5 through 13)


If you are not from the tri-state, you probably have a very stereo-typical view of Brooklyn.  In reality, Kings county is much more diverse and nicer place than the one that is portrayed in movies and popular culture references.  It has always been one of my favorite locations to visit in the city and favorite places to run (Prospect park rivals Central Park in views, running, and history / Williamburg and Brooklyn Bridge Park are excellent spots for vendors and people watching / and Coney Island has always been a favorite stop for a unique beach/boardwalk experience - is hard to describe to someone who hasn't been there).  Running into the borough off the bridge you immediately see the crowds.  Some of the best spectators, most crowded streets, and by far the individually loudest people who come to the marathon every year are found in Brooklyn.  As you enter 4th ave (a major road through the heart of Brooklyn), the people are everywhere ... hanging out of windows, sitting on rooftops, lining the sideways 7-10 deep, packing the bars which all seem to have bands playing towards the runners for inspiration.  So many families with young kids line the streets ... motivational signs, kids who want high fives, and so many warm and welcoming people - coming together for a street party in Brooklyn for the marathon.  The most miles of the marathon are in Brooklyn (12 of the 26.2 are in Brooklyn vs. just under 10 for Manhattan).  Downtown Brooklyn was crowded and loaded with fans, other neighborhoods like Williamsburg, Clinton Hill, and Prospect all showed off their individual character well.   I cannot put into words what it is like running through Brooklyn on Marathon Sunday other than they were simply the best spectators at the race - which surprises no one who has been to the borough with any regularity.  More total people were in Manhattan, but Brooklyn was amazing.

Brooklyn was amazing - humor, cheering, and great neighborhoods 

Queens (Miles 13.1 - 16)

Leaving northern Greenpoint Brooklyn, you pass over a small bridge into Queens.  Hunters Point and Long Island City are growing neighborhoods that have all the markings of the gentrification currently going on in the city.  New hotels, condominium developments, and nice restaurants are next to older run down buildings, dive bars, bodegas, and older homes.  Queens has always seemed more diverse to me than the United Nations.  Each block takes on the feel of a new, small independent country.  It is another sadly mis-understood borough which has amazing people, great food, and little touches of old NY that you simply can't find in Disney-fied mid-town Manhattan.  The spectators in Queens were awesome.  They were loud and energetic.  Some signs we encounter are now in Spanish, Chinese, and other languages - the new signs teamed up with the English signs are a welcome sign in Queens given how international the NYC marathon has become.  You are only in Queens for a few miles, but it is an excellent transition from the beginning of the race to the tougher miles that signify the closing half of the race.  You cross the 13.1 mile mark on the Pulaski into Queens ... a little 13.1 orange and blue sign that is framed with the Empire State Building behind it for a perfect "I'm halfway to my goal" picture.  Of course, I stop to take the picture.  Today isn't about the time, it is about me and my dad finishing his mission and enjoying the race I have always wanted to run.  The best is yet to come, but already I am so grateful for all those who donated to my run and encouraged me to run.  You finish your run through Queens with an eerily quiet Queensboro Bridge.  After so much noise in Kings and Queens, the bridge is almost silent as you cross over Roosevelt Island.

Half way home in Queens! 

Manhattan - Part One (Miles 16 - 19.5) 

As you are coming down the second half of the Queensboro bridge, the noise of the crowd becomes more and more present.  This was the section of the course I have heard about a hundred times while training and most recently from the gentleman in the morning breakfast that described it as Yankee Stadium playoff-level.  It grows louder with each stride.  As you start down the final off ramp, it becomes deafening - easily drowning out my music through the headphones.  I pause for a minute to look off the bridge an remove my headphones, the crowd on First Ave. near the bridge through the hospital area is 15-20 deep and screaming their lungs out.  One section right off the on-ramp is just chanting, "Go, go, go" over and over.  Other smaller sections are paying close attention to the running bibs to call out each runner by name.  50,000 runners, 2 million spectators and many of the crowd bring it back to just finding your name to yell, "You're kicking butt Scot", "Keep going Scot", etc.  The man I met this morning was right.  The feeling that you always wish you could get when you watch an ovation for the sports stars on ESPN and the energy of the crowd is yours for the day.  The people of the city are amazing that way.  The leaders ran through this area hours ago while many of us will limp home with times that would embarrass every track athlete on the planet, but yet here is over two million people (First Ave was estimated to have over 200,000 people alone) cheering for you personally and spending their day cheering on a loved one, but also complete strangers.  I would come to steal the gentleman's breakfast analogy as people asked me what it was like.  I now say there are parts of Brooklyn, Central Park finishing area, and especially that canyon that is First Ave which make you feel like Derek Jeter at the Stadium ... except having been to both, it is louder on First Ave. and they scream your name!

The view coming down the Queensboro - the noise growing!

At mile 17 you approach the hospital.  It was everything the runners and doctors described the night before.  Kids fighting cancer, nurses, doctors and runners relatives all waving and cheering.  The signs and kids brought tears.  "Thank you for running when I can't run for myself" held up by one little girl with no hair from treatment, "You are my heroes Fred's Team" held by another teenage boy.  I started out to honor my dad, seeing the kids was a bonus that can't be described.  I can only hope that the money we raised makes a difference in the fight and hopefully in time for the kids on that street that day.  They were amazing.

The run by the hospital cannot be described - seeing the kids, patients, and families is something I will never forget

As I approach mile 18 I start looking.  I received a text from my wife that they were heading to that area of the course.  Part of me wonders if I will miss her with all of the people and noise.  But I am determined.  I missed her at the finish line of the 2009 marathon and have always been upset about that.  I did see my mom and dad and spent some good time with them in 2009 (which became more priceless after realizing that my dad wouldn't get to see me finish NYC), but it was her I wanted to share the moment with.  I went to a lot of the meets early on for her teams when she was first taking over the gymnastics programs and always felt so proud of her for the amazing things she had accomplished.  More than the miles, I wanted her to be proud of me.  When you're with the right person, the smile you get from them can make anything worth while.  I missed that smile at the finish line in 2009, I wasn't going to miss it again.  As I cross 18, I see her, her mom, and my brother in law.  They are cheering and smiling.  It was the best part of the race.  The feeling of Yankees Stadium and the kids a few minutes ago was a different and amazing feeling.  I got my hug, kiss, and encouragement from my wife and her family to go finish.  It was a moment that was in the middle of all I have been describing, but it was my favorite marathon moment because it was my moment that slowed down and became personal.  The miles ahead were rough, especially heading into the hills of the Bronx and northern Manhattan.  However, for me ... it was already a forgone conclusion.  I would see my wife's smile again at the finish line soon and I would think of my dad as I received the medal.  My one minute moment in the thick of a big crowd under the skyscrapers of First Ave, tucked into a five hour grueling day was all I needed to push through and finish the journey.

The shot Tracy took of me coming towards them down First Ave. 

Da Bronx (Miles 19.5 - 21) 

Off the high of seeing family, the hospital, and the stadium moment we all crave as little league players ... it set in that the toughest part of the course remained in front of me.  In a 26.2 miles race you play games in your head constantly.  A few hundred feet back I was ready to finish strong and feeling like I could take on the world ... then I hit the Bronx and THE WALL (which is famed in distance running as the time you either give up or push through).  The final 6 plus miles in NYC is cruel and clearly designed to break you.  It starts with a climb up the Willis Ave. bridge and immediately you are in a hilly section of the south Bronx.  I have always loved the Bronx, mainly because my die-hard Yankee fandom but also because the people here are so unique and honest.  You can tell someone is from the Bronx way before they open their mouths.  The Bronx produces characters.  One of the biggest characters was Tracy's grandfather Artie.  A spitting image of Joe Paterno, he always had a smile and a way of making you feel special and welcome.  We had lost Artie in the months leading up to the marathon.  The mile and a half section of the bronx was to be my tribute to him and all the laughs, slices of homemade pizza, and beers we shared.  I stopped to post a picture of him with the Bronx signs that welcome you to the most outspoken borough.  He was a great guy.  I think of him and my dad a lot.  I keep wondering why the truly good guys keep getting taken from us.  Thoughts for another day or time, but for the marathon run I'll smile and think of his famous offer of Grappa or Paisano ("No grapes") and his smile and keep running.  Today is about honoring all those cancer touched ... one mile at a time.  The miles in the Bronx will always be Artie's miles.  

Arthur Serpentino from our wedding day 

Manhattan / Finish Line (Part Two - Miles 21 - 26.2)

As you come down off the Madison Ave bridge, you reenter Manhattan.  As I said, the last 6 plus miles have two bridges and all the hills of the Bronx and northern Manhattan to greet legs that have already run 20.  I think back to the Sinatra line, "If you can make it here ... ".  They did the same thing for the marathon.  The course is set up to ask you, "Sure, you think you can run 26.2 miles ... but can you finish strong on the hills?"  Coming down 5th Ave around Marcus Garvey Park in Harlem is another awesome experience. The culture and the music in Harlem is like no where else in the world in such a small concentrated area.  The park and 5th ave. have jazz and funk music playing and the residents all seem to have their own water, orange slices, and bananas that they are offering.  For a brief mile or so, despite the number of people, it almost feels like a local 5k because the people of Harlem are welcoming you to their neighborhood personally.  It was wonderful.  As you enter the climb up Fifth Ave's steepest areas you also start to pass the museums that make the city such a great cultural destination (the Guggenheim, MET, and numerous other amazing landmarks are on the home stretch of fifth ave).  As you enter the park you pass the section where many of my training runs started near the Fred Lebow statue and there is another Fred's Team cheering section there cheering you on.  The team couldn't be more supportive and the volunteers and staff who work for the team and hospital make you feel so valued and proud to be working with them.  The statue, a usual mile marker for us, is now gone ... it is moved to the finish line every year for the race as a tribute to the man who many know as the father of the NYC marathon, but who many more are coming to know as the man who inspired the creation of a team that has raised over 50 million dollars for cancer research.

Harlem was a musically amazing and tasty place to run through

The banner coming into the park calling you to the finish 

The next few miles are welcomed (even though the hills are tough in the northern end of the park) because this was our training location.  I know every turn, landmark, and statue in the park on the outer loop.  The finishing three miles feel like a victory lap (a slow, painful, tired one ... but a victory lap none the less).  As we enter, I think I just need to make it to the area where the 72nd st. traverse and bandshell are, then I'll have two miles to go.  From there, it is a downhill for a change ... close in on the start of the literary walk and it will be around a mile to go!  The mind games of reaching the next mental "spot" you have picked out continue.  As you run back up the hill leaving Columbus Circle toward the Tavern on the Green and finish line on 68th Street it sets in ... you are going to finish the NYC marathon.  Your goal has been achieved, childhood dream a reality and most importantly the mission you started for your father now has the exclamation point you need.  As I cross the finish line, it is overwhelming.  This time I know I'll get to see my wife's smile, but my dad won't be at this finish line.  I look at the medal that I told him I would earn all those years ago and smile knowing it was his memory and all those years of coaching me in sports that made it happen.  The finishing area is a mix of food and congratulations that most bask in for hours.  I make a quick left out of the park to find Tracy.  Again, I missed her in 2009 ... it isn't going to happen again.  I realize as I am walking around many limping people and actually feeling pretty good that I ran a much slower race than I was prepared to run.  I feel a little down because I know I left so much potential time in my legs rather than on the course.  I felt PR good that day, but ended up jogging spots to see the crowd, stopping for pictures, and talking with some of the volunteers and spectators along the way.  Then I realize that I enjoyed the race so much more because of the stories and pictures I have for the rest of my life.  I will be back to NYC next year to claim my PR, but for this run for dad my five hour time was perfect and amazing.  As I get to the bottom of the park, Tracy and her family are waiting.  I don't remember what she said, only that the hug and smile were a perfect cap to the day.  In the end, the millions of people who cheered and hundreds of people I met along the way were amazing, but I got the most satisfaction from the fact that I think I made my wife and my father proud.  My mission for my father will carry on, but at least for one day it feels like there is a reason to stop to appreciate my run and all he gave me and showed me while he was here.

Tracy and I at the race finish line

Post Race Thoughts

The dinner with family that night, seeing my niece, and the hundreds of calls, social media messages, and emails to follow were simply amazing.  Over 50,000 people finished the race and each and every person gets to feel like they won their own version of the marathon.  Sure, the Kenyans finished 3 hours before me, won hundreds of thousands of dollars, got endorsement deals, and the ESPN interviews ... but I did the best I could for my dad.  And in a way that makes us all winners.  I later was floored by the stats that you don't consider day to day when you train for something like this.  .05% of the people in the United States have finished a marathon and the percentage drops to even lower than that for people who have run multiple marathons.  Although my time wasn't great, I am very proud of being a multiple marathon finisher.  My final contribution (raised donations to Sloan Kettering) between 2012 and 2013 was $7, 198 (with $3,775.00 coming the year I ran the marathon).  It feels like such a drop in the bucket compared to what is needed to fight the disease.  I wish I could have raised even more money in honor of my father and for all those who still fight.  But I am proud that I could (along with everyone who donated to my run) do something.  Our 2013 team raised over 2 million dollars.  To date, Fred's Team has raised over 54 MILLION dollars for cancer research at Sloan Kettering since starting in 1995.  I sincerely hope to run with them again some day as the stories and people I met along the way will always inspire and be with me during my races and my life in general for as long as I am here.  The marathon, while a one day event, was so much more than that for me.  It was a chance to finish my dads mission, to achieve something I always wanted to do, and to be a part of the fight for those who are fighting their own battles themselves right now because of their treatments for this disease.   As for the marathon, I will be back, but it will never top the run that my dad and I had in 2013.

Final stats:
Two years of training,
5 hours of racing,
$7,198 dollars raised personally
Fred's Team: 2 million dollars as a team in 2013 and 54 Million to date
But the feeling that my dad may be proud of keeping up his fight: Priceless!

RACE HISTORY AND THE STORIES BEHIND THE RACES - Part One

2009

NJ Full Marathon - 26.2 miles (May 2009 - Long Branch, NJ)
This race will always be a special time in my life and mark a major transition for me.  Before this race I had never run a running race of this nature - in fact, the only running I had done was the running during practice or conditioning for sports in my high school and college days.  Part of me can't believe that the very first race I ever signed up for was a full marathon (not a 5 or 10K).  I had always liked the idea of the full marathon dating back to watching the 5 borough NYC race on TV and always wanted to do NY.  I didn't get in the lottery for that race and this race was at the Jersey Shore and seemed like the perfect place to go out and finally make good on the "I'll run a marathon one day" guarantee I made years earlier.  To me it never was necessary to look at short goals if the only one you wanted was 26.2 miles away.  After a strong sub 2:00 start (first 13.1) I hit a wall and pushed home slowly for a final time of 4:34.  My parents and wife were at the race making it all that more special.  Basically, I have said this on a few occasions but the person who said "i'm going to get off the couch and try to run a marathon" after never running more than 3-4 miles and the one who finished that race in the rain running down the boardwalk simply were not the same person.  I made so many rookie mistakes (after all, this was my first race ever), but I was forever hooked on running and setting my sights on bigger goals.  After that finish line, everything I could dream seemed in reach.  I accepted a VP position less than a month later and the rest they say ... is (my) history.

Bronx Half Marathon (August 2009 - Bronx, NY)
A special race and still one of the toughest I have ever run.  Those who picture NYC as a flat canyon of skyscrapers has never been to the Bronx.  The hills in the Bronx are no joke.  They range from the steady upgrade of the Fordham Rd section near Science High and through the steep, hot concrete and overpasses of Moshulu parkway, Van Cortland Park, and the Grand Councourse straight through the heart of the Bronx.  The big marathon in NYC always gets the attention for the crowds, but the true heart of the city has always existed in its diverse boroughs.  This race will always be special seeing all the different countries represented in signs in different langauges on the windows in the store fronts and the loud guy in the track suit close to the finish yelling, "Hey ... you're gonna f**king finish guy ... run harder, you f**king got this".  As a die hard yankee fan, this is both hysterical, expected, and welcomed.  Anytime a race can make you feel like your in the right field bleachers Section 39 in the old stadium, it is a special race. 

Tunnel to Towers (September 2009 - Red Hook Brooklyn to Ground Zero, Lower Manhattan)
This race really can't be described, only felt and experienced.  The whole day is a mix of solumn rememberance of those lost on 9/11, a salute to the FDNY for their bravery, and a giant middle finger to those who try to scare us as a reminder that people in the tri-state will continue to rise and come together.  The race starts at the firehouse in Red Hook where Steven Stiller, a firefighter who was off duty at the time of the attack, was stationed.  Hearing that the tunnels were jammed with traffic and still finding a need to rush to help his fellow fire fighters, he ran the roughly three miles in full gear with tanks through the tunnel and to the trade center and then up the stairs to assist helping others.  Pictures exist of him in the stairways helping others down.  Those were the last images seen of him as he was one of the 343 fire fighters lost when the towers collapsed.  The race begins at the street sign "seven in heavan way" as six other company members from that house were also lost. To honor the FDNY childrens and survivors charities and the wounded warrior project, an annual race is held here (and in locations throughout the country and Iraq and Afganistan) to remember his and others ultimate sacrifice.  This race, one in which tears and inspirational fist pumps go hand and hand, features runners in full fire gear and miltary uniforms getting the loudest cheers and most enthusiastic high fives you can imagine.  The race is led by a group of those wounded in war and a group of the military cadets from west point running in formation and is finished by running durectly into the view of the Freedom Tower and 9/11 memorial while passing 686 fire fighters who are holding pictures of those lost and American flags (343 pictures on one side and 343 flags on the other).  It is a must on the race calendar every year and a great way to honor and remember people who do extrodinary things for a living so that we can be safe and free.

2010

Fighting a stess fracture in my shin most of the year led to only two races, the NJ half marathon in May and the Tunnels to Towers Race in September.  This year was filled with hope to kick my running into the more serious and regular catagory, but the injury was a good reminder that both age and training are critical facotrs to remember when trying to complete athletic events. 

2011

Tunnels to Towers - September NYC
for the third year in a row I was able to complete this race and be a part of the festivities.  Great, great event. This was my first race of the year as the continued issues with the shin cause limited training. 

NJ Tough Mudder - October Englishtown, NJ
This race is part nuts and part soldier play time for grown men and women.  The race, designed by the british special forces, is a mini-boot camp of 13.1 miles and 29 obstacles which is obviously easier than real boot camp but crazy enough to show you that this race is about endurance and not time.  Completing this race leaves you with more of a sense of camarodery with your race team than other races as most obstacles require team work to complete.  The obstacles range from easy (jumping logs and climbing cargo nets), to physically demanding (carrying logs up and down hills and running through a stretch of half a mile of waste deep mud), to metally intimidating (ice bath/swim and electric shock while ducking barbed wire) to finally developing a sense of team work (scaling walls and running straight up the side of a half pipe and throwing yourself at the people at the top to catch you so you dont fall all the way back to the ground).  This race seems more mentally and physically scary than it is.  Perserverence and teamwork help any who apply complete the race and feel a proud sense of accomlishment.  It also doesnt hurt that out of all the races on my calendar, it has the most fun atmosphere with a post race kegger with a band waiting for those who finish the entire course. 

2012
Pennsyvania Tough Mudder - Pocono Mountains, PA - April

Take all the things said about the race above and add in the fact that this race was contested in the mountains where the 13 miles were up and down mountains and you have an idea of this race.  This was extremely difficult and fun.  This was also the first race I ran after my dad passed and the feeling of team and competetion was something that for at least 2-3 hours put some of the hurt behind me. 

NJ Half Marathon - May Long Branch, NJ
This race was a victory of sorts for me as it became the first distance race I have run three times in a row and always has a special connection because of its shore location, vistas, and the finishing run down the board walk.  This year, more than ever, was especially tough because of all of the time I spent at the Jersey shore with my father.  The race was filled with all the times we walked the board walk, played golf near the shore, and those famous sand animals he used to make along the shore from Cape May to Belmar.  However ... the race almost didnt happen for me at all.  This race for me will always be the one where I almost got a "DNF" which in races terms is the worst thing one can hear.  The DNF next to a runners name signifies "Did not finish" and is the one result that we all strive to never see on the results page.  I, sleeping in a bit too much for having a race, headed down the parkway with still a decent amount of time to spare if not for the fact that the Jersey Shore and parkway area can look like a parklot on most weekends and this day didnt disappoint.  Traffic was so heavy, when I pulled into Monmouth Park Raceway I had 15 minutes to the start.  Leaving all my usual gear behind except my ipod, I ran to the race bib pick up (which seemed further than the race distance itself from my car).  As I entered the tent, a kind volunteered said "Half?" indicating that the half start, being 30 minutes earlier than the full, was about to begin.  I said yes did the exchange and put on the race tee so as not to lose it (I had no bags to check) and was jogging towards the fininsh line while putting on my race number.  My final hurdle (literary) was to hop a race barrier to get to the start line (the corral was too long to go around) and started the race while the announcer said "all half runners must begin in the next minute or they will be asked to leave the course for the start of the full".  Months of training, a morning full of traffic, and my race results came down to a barrier jump and one minute announcement. 

George Washington Bridge 10K run - Fort Lee, NJ / Washington Heights, NYC)

This race, a little over 6 miles, was a race that I was very excited about running.  After the amazing experience of running the tunnels for towers though car tunnels and the tough mudders through all kinds of crazy conditions, I became interested in running different races and locations to break up the monatany of racing on simple streets or trails.  This race, one which starts and begins in Fort Lee, is different because running accross a bridge the size of the George Washington Bridge and seeing the entire NYC skyline on one side and the less developed hills north of the bridge with uninterupted views is an opportunity that isnt normally presented given the heavy traffic that the bridge is famous for.  Being able to actually run accross the border of the two states twice and then running downhill to a park that has great views of the bridge and city is an added plus.  This race also has a great barbeque after and all proceeds from the race benefit the American Cancer Society. 

Westfield Downtown Pizza Race - July Westfield, NJ

Any small town race which starts and ends in a downtown race is always a different experience.  It feels more like a family event and one in which you're likely to see a neighbor cutting their grass as you run.  This race, scheduled on a summer evening when the whole town seems to come out, is a nice event and features a pizza hand out at the end and a block party feel since the streets are blocked off and their is a concert at the end of the race. 

Tunnel to Towers (September - NYC)

NYC MARATHON for Fred's Team, Sloan Kettering - Canceled due to Sandy  - I'll BE BACK!

2013

Empire State Building Run Up (February NYC)

This "run" is equally one of the most enjoyable and horrible I have ever participated in.  On the positive side, the opportunity to run up the stairs of arguably the most iconic building in the United States and run accross a finish line over 1,200 feet in the air with a panaramic view of the city as your reward is amazing.  This year the event was highly publized as we ran with Kelly Rippa and many other members of the media.  However, if the idea of running or walking even a few flights of stairs is not a fun one to ponder ... running over 100 floors and roughly 1,600 steps in a tight staircase of a building built in 1931 is an ugly nightmare.  You hit the first 10-20 floors running (clearly not aware that vertical pacing in a race is MUCH more critical than in regular running).  Then, from floors 20-40 perserverence and determination kick in and you keep moving.  From 40-60, your lungs begin to shut down and the lactic acid in your legs begins to feel like you have been skiing for a week (if you didnt pace yourself - the mistake I made).   As you begin to reach the top, the feeling of just wanting to complete the race and stand atop the skyscraper looking down completely refocuses you.  As I crossed the finish line, I bowed to take the medal that was being presented and looked down from the observation deck.  That was a really cool and sort of surreal moment, but I still took the stairs down. 

All State 13.1 Marathon - March Queens, NYC

This race was a smooth, scenic run that featured many bands along the route to push you along.  The race was another milestone for me as it became the fifth and final borough of NYC that I have raced in (I ran the running leg of the Staten Island Tri-athalon the year before but didnt register in the full race because I had bike issues and wasnt going to race with a mountain bike -therefore I do not count it as a completed race). 

NJ Runapalooza five miler - Asbury Park, NJ

A shorter, non-descript race that I orginally signed up for to run simply due to the fundraiser for the Jersey Shore (after Sandy) and as a club event (one of my two clubs - Old Bridge Running Club was running this one) turned into a must run and a communal event after the horrific events in Boston.  Blue and yellow (the colors of the Boston Marathon) were everywhere and a nice moment of silence and rousing rendition of the Star Spangled Banner were played.  The run, the feeling of being back at the shore, and the communal feeling of coming together with spectators and runners at a time like this made it a really special day. 

NJ Half Marathon - May

This was a rough race physcially, but great to see thousands of runners coming together at the shore with the "restore the shore" theme everywhere.  We had a great turn out from our running club and my two regualr running partners were both in the race which helps a lot for motivation.  Physically, I had been battling some soarness in my IT band for a few weeks but had never dealt with that area so I chalked it up to a little eratic training and thought it would be ok with stretching.  I was wrong ... this was a battle and I had to finish because I NEED to cross finish lines - but the last three miles were a tough, painful trek which caused me to stretch more before and after runs and break down and buy the roller that many runners find helpful and I always thought was not necessary.  Time to start running smarter ... I'm not 25 anymore. 

GWB run 10K - June

Simply amazing day.  Very hot, but this race always is.  Place a race at the end of June in the middle of a "concrete jungle" and ask us to run across a double decker suspension bridge from NJ to NYC and back ... and you can expect to be a little warm.  However, the day was picture perfect in terms of the visability.  On the NY run you could see all the way bast the Battery to the statue of Liberty and on the NJ run, the Hudson north was full of boaters and outdoor activties.  What made this race truly special was the finish ... As I was coming down from the final turn, I spoted a sign that I could swear had my name on it.  The American Cancer Society placed signs along the route posting runners "why we run" lines.  As I got the the part where every runner thinks, I need to kick as hard as possible to get just under whatever time will be clicking on the finishing clock ... I see the sign that I was running for my Dad.  Of course, this led to a full out sprint and a picture that I will forever be proud of.

NY Giants Champions run 5K - June

Picture getting an opportunity to run in the stadium of your favorite team with some of the teams legends ... the NY Giants Run of Champions was that run for me this year.  Running with the Union running club, I competed in this short course from the area near the race track, around the practice bubble, and right into the stadium - crossing the finish line in the end zone at the Meadowlands.  Not only was I able to meet many of the former Giant players - I finished the race at the same time as former wide out Amani Toomer and got a great photo with him. Afterwards, finishers and their families were let into the lockerroom for a tour and invited to eat and visit exhibits all around the stadium. 

Westfield Downtown 5K - July

This race, one that I have run the past two years, was a special one as Tracy and her mom came to watch me race.  I always appreciate anyone coming out to the races as the process is a real pain to fight traffic and deal with the crowds.  Seeing family and friends at a race always pushes me to have a great race and reminds me that I started running for family.

Battle of Brooklyn 10 Miles - August

This race was my first race that took place entirely in the borough of Brooklyn.  It was a rainy morning and the race was limited to only a smaller field of runners who belong to a club team or had NYRR or NYCRUNS affiliation.  What a difference that made in terms of easy to get to and from the race and in terms of running space during the run.  The reduced field of around 500 runners led to open running lanes, excellent views from within and just outside of Prosepect Park and an opportunity to talk to some of the runners I have seen at a few races but didnt interact with because of the crowds.  I have said it before, there really is no place like NYC to run ... the people, the calm of the parks hiding behind the roar of the louder city streets, and the characters you meet!  Great race and I also decided to stop by the spot of Ebbets field.  I am no Dodgers or Mets fan, but as a baseball fan this site even if it is only a plauque and an appartment building was still on my baseball bucket list!

Color Run - Englishtown, NJ - August

My first "non-timed" 5k fun run.  I orginally agreed to do this because a good friend decided to run his first 5K and put together a team for support.  I ended up having a great time and being inspired by seeing someone else not only join the running community, but smash their own expectations of what they would achieve during the run.  Lots of color, fun, and excited people ... also the most kids I have seen at a running race so the added benefit of having that many kids physically active and enjoying themselves was an added bonus. 

Philly "Rock and Rolla" Half Marathon - September

A last minute adjustment to my race calendar to join some of the Old Bridge Running Club, this run was exciting as it crossed in and out of center city Philadelphia with one of the largest crowd I have seen at a race.  Loud and encouraging, the spectators in Philly made this a fun race which I will not forget.  Being able to do it with a team and seeing some old faces I've run with over the past few years was fun too. 

Tunnel to Towers - September

This race, as I have mentioned above, has become a pilgramage for me.  This year both the Old Bridge runners and the Union Running club ran this race which for me made this my favorite Tunnels with the exception of the first one I ran.  Having a large group of 10-15 fellow runners at a race that has become your personal favorite makes the experience that much more fun ... including the concert, morning activities, and the post race meal (this year at PJ Clarkes on the water). 

NJ Tough Mudder - October

This years Tough Mudder turned into a Hightstown reunion as the class of 95 went at the course hard (and in at least one persons case the course bit back hard IN THE FACE).  Great to see the guys again, laugh like it was 20 years ago, and more importantly earn my third orange headband for completing over 12 miles and 20 obstacles (this year) ... hopefully we will have even more HHS alum out there next year and can make this an annual event.

Why we run ... and thoughts on Boston

Based on recent events in Boston, I felt the need to de-stress in the way I know how ... first, I ran about five miles last night while watching the coverage and then set down to read something I wrote last summer at Columbia University as part of their writing project.  My first feeling is that those who seek to terrorize us want to scare us enough to panic and change our behavior.  While we will always remember those lost or hurt in these events, we all must remain committed to living our lives, spending time with friends and family, traveling, and challenging ourselves to new things. 

Strikingly, the week of April 14-20 is one that we do not think of in connection to events as vivid as 9/11, however this week marks the events in Boston, the Oklahoma City Bombing (4/19), the Waco tragedy (4/19), the Columbine shooting (4/20), and the Virginia Tech horrific shooting (4/16).  While these are isolated incidents, most occurred in places that represent or oppose federal government or strike at an area where places attempt to help others (Boston being a charity event and the schools being places where higher learning attempts to help the next generation).  That very fact is enough to will us to continue to gather, enjoy, and go on living the best life we can imagine each and every day.

The greatest thing about our nation is that we are resilient and tough beyond what the terrorists (foreign and domestic) could ever dream.   Hurricanes Sandy and Katrina taught us that most of the good will and support needed in our toughest times happen amongst and because of ordinary heroes, citizens, volunteers, and first responders that make up this countries backbone.  When 9/11 happened, the Tri-state and nation as a whole was one unified country like we had never witnessed before in my lifetime.  In the aftermath of 9/11, Boston players took the field wearing FDNY and NYPD hats in a show of solidarity and hope to move forward.  Sports can do that ... make bitter rivals respect and stand behind one another at a tough time.  That is why this Saturday, thousands of other runners and I will still line up on a starting line (my race is in Asbury Park) to boldy say ... we remember, but you won't stop us from living, running, and supporting one another.  This was the wrong community to attack, if you can run 26.2 miles when everything in your brain tells you STOP ... you are not afraid of much and don't think anything can stop you.  I for one, with my running clubs Fred's Team and Old Bridge Running Club, will be on that starting line (wearing for the first time in my life a Boston Hat as a tip of the cap to the 9/11 honor those hated Red Sox showed) thinking of those in Boston and honoring them the way we should ... by continuing to move forward and cross finish lines. 

Below is my original (not good, but relaxing) writing from Columbia ... Why We Run

       This day will begin or end like a lot of others, with a stress relief that makes no sense to those who don't also subscribe to the same form of therapy.  My new hobby, running marathons and half marathons is not most peoples idea of relaxing.  But it is the simple things running can offer you that make this such a great sport to participate in.  The sounds are what usually gets you into a relaxed mood before a long run, especially in the morning.  There is a quietness to race morning or long training runs that you don't always get in Jersey, almost like the sound is turned off for a few minutes while you mentally argue with yourself, "No, don't go back to bed or chill, you have to put in the miles."  This goes on longer some days than others and I would be lying if I said that bed or procrastinating didn't win sometimes.  But then something changes.  You get the feeling that you need to run.  Sometimes it is because of stress and you just need an outlet, other times you feel like if you don't your waistline will continue to expand until you are a perfect square.  But the moment hits you, you hit play on your ipod, and you are out the door running.  Running for exercise; running for fun; running for stress relief; running but hating it; but you are running and that's what matters and the other stress disappears for a little while.  I'm not thinking about the stress of running a school when politicians attack it no matter how hard the teachers and I work and not thinking about the stress of social or family commitments. For a little while, it goes away and I'm just running.  That little cloud around my head protecting me from stress is what runners live for. 

       I rarely pick my routes, allowing my feet and mind to take me wherever they want to go.  At the beginning of every run there is always either excitement for a race or agony that you are running again.  Hard to describe, but most runners have a love-hate relationship with running.  There is no in between.  After a few minutes of running, the brain starts to focus.  Time to enjoy the scenery, think of the positives of exercise giving myself a little mental pat on the back, and why I run in the first place ... to raise funds for charity and challenge myself.  My mile 2 you start to feel good and challenge yourself to run harder.  This for me is usually achieved by focusing on the feeling crossing a finish line, handing a check to a charity, or by the fear of watching my classmates that I used to play sports with in high school and college grow horizontally and not wanting to face the same fate.  This thought is usually reinforced by the slight jiggle in the mid-section I feel on hills or running corners almost if to remind me if I ran harder or more frequently I might be in better shape!  As you get to mile 3 or 4 on a longer run your mind starts bringing images of the positive race experiences you have been a part of.  One of my favorite images to think of is mental picture you get coming out of the tunnel facing the Freedom Tower while running the Tunnel to Towers race from Brooklyn to Ground Zero.  As you come out of the tunnel, the probationary fire fighters are lined up on both sides holding picture of those lost in 9/11 and American flags ... 343 of them. 

      The picture of these brave people cheering on those runners who are raising funds for the FDNY charities and the Wounded Warrior project is moving beyond words.  I also think of the veterans missing limbs who run on prosthetics during the Tough Mudders, the cancer survivors who run the NYC races with Fred's Team to raise funds for Sloan Kettering, and the countless older runners who continue to defy time because they are choosing to live and make the rest of us feel bad as they pass us.  These images once seen, cannot be unseen.  The first long race that you spend with people of this caliber and challenge yourself to do something you never thought was possible is a life changing event.  I finished the NJ marathon in 2009, challenging myself to complete the 26.2 mile course and train for the event never having run more than 2-3 miles for sports practice before I was in my mid-20's.  Now in my 30's I would decide that I would run over 10 times further ... was I crazy?   In retrospect, it was one of the best decisions of my life right up there with going into education and proposing to my wife ... these are the three events I truly believe changed my life from a reckless idiot to someone who at least tries to be a better person.  The person who started that NJ marathon race is not the same one who finished the race.  Just two weeks after completing that race I went in to interview for a vice principals position.  Armed with the confidence and thoughts that just a few months before the race I made a commitment to do what I thought I could never do, I walked in and won the job by showing how I felt no matter how daunting the job of reaching kids who are in an at risk situation ... I could do it.  That sense of belief is something that can only be achieved when you truly pushed yourself to the limits ... I got my belief from running. 

      I glance at the ipod or the race mile marker the same way a second grader or high school student looks at the clock on the wall during a lecture that seems to go on for days.  For the first time, the voice that all of us here creeps in ... "Ugh ... its only the fourth mile?  How can that be ... I have 22 to go?  Aaahh shit." Depending on the race or the day, this can also be the beginning of the physical games your body plays with you when you challenge yourself to run a marathon or half marathon.  My nemesis can either be the shin that I broke a few years ago running in the Bronx marathon or the right knee that always used to bark during soccer or baseball for apparently no reason since I never remember injuring it.  The shin is a particular source of idiocy and/or pride.  The doctor at the time told me my shin split two inches vertically in the middle (which makes a really cool nuclear bone scan picture by the way) and it was most likely a small stress fracture before the race.  Running through pain, a few years into running and a few years wiser is stupid, is something we all do.  However, being told you ran a half marathon on the hills of the Bronx with a broken shin and you STILL didn't give up also gives you the same kind of rush that the challenge did in the first place ... I can do anything I set my mind to. 

      That feeling ... "I can do this" is needed again and again to do anything of importance in life whether it is finishing a marathon, parenting or teaching a kid who drives you crazy, or getting through a tough situation in life or school.  On a long run, refocusing and thinking about these things rotate constantly in your head.  On my run, after thinking about these things, I look up again and a few more miles have ticked off.  I refocus and start playing the mind games we all play with ourselves when we need a boost.  "At mile ten ... I'll slow down and get a Gatorade and check my time".  The pain that shows up and the voices that say you should just quit are ever present in a distance race (at least for bad habit having commoners who run them like me).  This was the first wall.  There will be many more.  Over the months of training the walls get easier to climb over because you get used to pushing yourself past obstacles.  This is another central skill distance runners acquire that benefits us in life ... the ability to keep going when things get rough.  I also have the added bonus of a positive voice in my head that always beats the negative naysayer voice.  It is my dads voice.  He coached me for so many years in so many sports that hearing him running when my mind is the most clear can actually make me feel as though I am having a live conversation with him.  He once told me, when I was complaining about something insignificant that happened with bosses at work during a golf round, "Scot, walls aren't put up to stop you ... they exist to separate you from those who quit easily and to get them out of your way".  Thinking of this guidance, not unlike a thousand other sayings he told me, pushes me further and makes me run harder. 

       This year, (written in the summer of 2012) I am running with a whole new sense of purpose.  Getting up for training runs has been something I now look forward to.  This year it is fitting that the voice that I hear in my head urging to go forward is that of my dad because I have been running on Fred's Team for Memorial Sloan Kettering Hospital in NYC to raise funds for the types of rare cancers that eventually silenced the actual voice of the person who coached me through all those seasons of my youth.  Dad lost his battle on January 9, 2012 after an amazing display of strength, courage, and dedication to make an impact on everyone he met with the hope that he would beat the dreaded disease that takes too many of our loved ones. One of the things that was critical to my father was to ensure that through the drug trials, testing, and now fund raising that his battle "meant something" and would help beat this dreaded disease. I think about why I run these races and why crossing the line at the NYC marathon is so important to me.  This, running each day to complete the race with the eventual goal of inspiring others to help me raise money is my way to continue my dad's battle against cancer and ensure that Dad completes his last "project". On this run I think about his last few weeks.  As we visited Virginia to see family and friends and he played the most courageous 36 holes in golf history in Myrtle Beach only about a month before his passing, all he was concerned about was making trips to tell people what they meant to him and how proud he was of his family, friends, and former co-workers. When I run and raise money, I think about his self-less attitude before, during and after he was sick a lot.  I know I miss him tremendously, but as I run I feel connected to his mission and the loss feels more empowering to try to get others to help me donate to help complete his final mission.  Again, to a non-runner, it may be difficult to understand why one would want to run 26.2 miles for any reason ... but I ask, if that was the time that you felt the most connected to those who have mattered the most to us and those we've lost ... the question isn't "how could you possibly like running" ... the question is really how can you not enjoy completing races, running with other people on a mission, and to hear your dads coaching again. 

      Wonderful thoughts like that drift in and out as you run ... I would be lying though if I said that is what you think about for 3-4 hours (Again ... I'm not Kenyan).  My next thoughts come around the ten mile mark usually.  Ten miles ... saying sounds long to recreation runners and sounds like a plane ride to those who hate running.  When you are at the ten mile mark you still have another ten miles and a ten kilometer race left.  That is a cold fact that has hit me on many runs.  This to me is the area that you make the decision to fight ... this is the angry stage of the run.  I start thinking about doubters.  The ones who said you can't run that far.  I look a little deeper for inspiration, convinced that the voice telling me you can keep going sounds a lot like the teacher in high school who flatly told me that I wasn't going to college or amount to anything.  I think that not only is their voice making me run harder, but I really wish that I could go back in time and have that teacher transferred to my school to be evaluated on how he "motivated" his students.  Armed with the anger from those who say I couldn't make a difference and the thoughts of my dad fighting no matter what the odds ... I run on. 

         The miles don't seem as rough with a little perspective.   The next ten to thirteen miles rotate between the thoughts in the above paragraphs ... excitement, doubt, anger, perseverance.  The final wall comes usually closest to the finish in the last few miles.  The pain picks up because your body seems to know you are getting closer to a couch or an ice bath.  The voice gets a little louder to quit or sit because pain and fatigue can be an amplifier.  But then something happens that cant be described, the final wall starts to erode and you start to picture yourself crossing the finish line.  You realize that you didn't train for months, get up when you wanted to sleep, and keep going through injury to stop this close to your goal.  You start to think that you will achieve this mission, which for me is to continue my dads battle and make some small dent in the battle against something that seems insurmountable.  Finally, the finish line is in sight.  There is really nothing like the end of a long race.  I always get the feeling that I look a little like Kurt Gibson hobbling awkwardly to the end but feeling like I won the race (even though the Kenyans finished so long ago it can barely qualify as the same race).  Crossing the line with the feeling that you have done something that just a few months ago seemed impossible does something for your spirit that cannot be described.  It is a sense of validation, kinship with the thousands of runners who will also finish and have amazing stories of their own, and a profound sense that if this can be achieved by a lazy non-runner anything is possible. 

        And that's really the beauty of the sport, the recreational runners run the same course and get the same joy and sense of fulfillment that the winners do.  Baseball doesn't allow beer league softball players to play a warm up game before the world series nor does basketball let guys from the local park play horse before the NBA finals.  That is why runners run ... the challenge, sportsmanship, and feeling that anyone can do something amazing.  As I mentioned, I run for cancer research.  I get down sometimes looking at my fund raising page and thinking ... "I can only raise $3,000 bucks?  What will that do to cancer?"  However, it is then that I think of that same 30 something that got up off the couch and said, "I'm going to run a marathon".  That's the thing I love most about racing ... I got to have my movie ending.  I finished the race, got the job, and recently completed my 15th distance race pushing my fund raising total to over 10,000 for various charities.  Sure, to beat cancer seems insurmountable some days ... but so did that race goal we all set for the first time ... and any runner will tell you how that story ended. 

Post Scipt - the ING NYC marathon on Nov 3, 2013 will be my 25th distance race.  I still hate running, but as long as I hear my dad on my runs and cancer still exists ... I will keep running.  If you'd like to donate to my run this year, please click below:

http://mskcc.convio.net/site/TR/FredsTeamEvents/Freds_Team?px=2066084&pg=personal&fr_id=1930