The Greatest Race in the World

“],”renderIntial”:true,”wordCount”:350″>

Just after the crest of the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge, the longest and optimum climb of the New York Town Marathon, all around mile one particular, an MTA Bridges and Tunnels staff yelled some encouragement to those of us in the closing starting wave of the race as we jogged throughout the span, just about seven hundred ft in the air, Manhattan using up the horizon to the left, Brooklyn and open up ocean to the suitable.

“Come on,” a voice barked from a team of men in protection yellow sitting on the back of a truck as I passed.

“We’ve been out below all early morning,” he continued. “It’s freezing.” He was right—it was a chilly early morning, and there aren’t lots of spots on the bridge to get out of the cold breeze. The encouragement was starting to turn into 50 percent-assistance, 50 percent-joke. Listed here is a gentleman after my possess heart. He completed with:

“Get off the bridge.”

I began laughing mid-stride and did what everyone says not to do: ran quick for the overall downhill section of the bridge into Brooklyn.


I had prepared on a pretty mellow marathon day—no rush, just go for a good jog, easy tempo, halt and say hi to a couple good friends who would be out cheering, it’s possible hold out for a couple minutes with them. My mate Syd and I would be carrying out the race jointly, and the very last time we did it, in 2019, we completed in a pretty leisurely (for us) four hours fifty minutes.

Then Syd strained his hamstring nine days right before the race, and his 2021 race was in jeopardy. He expended the week in actual physical-therapy appointments, but by Friday, running more than a mile was still a no-go.

So he stated he was just heading to walk the complete issue as an alternative. I stated I was not sure he would have significantly pleasurable carrying out that, but Syd loves the New York Town Marathon. He does not enjoy running, but he was born below, and he loves the race that phone calls itself “the world’s marathon” and is also his hometown race, which he’s operate a dozen times now. Every single yr he starts his working day by receiving on the 1 Prepare at the 66th Avenue station, receiving off at South Ferry, using the ferry to Staten Island, a bus to the begin village below the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge, and then running the race, crossing the end line, and going for walks the handful of blocks back to his condominium.

Instead of running with me in the very last starting wave at midday, Syd determined he’d depart with his assigned wave at 9:fifty five A.M. and have a two-hour head begin on me. We did some rough math at a cafe on Friday night and figured there was a very good opportunity we’d end pretty near to each other, dependent on how quick he walked and how quick I ran. And also if his hamstring held jointly and he manufactured it to the end line.

I had not organized for the race extremely intelligently. I hadn’t operate more than eight miles or so on pavement at one particular time the overall yr, due to the fact I’d expended most of my time training for trail races. I’d just completed one particular of those races, a 100K, 22 days right before. The former Friday, I did the Presidential Traverse in New Hampshire with my mate Doug, covering 21 miles and 8,300 ft of elevation acquire, throughout which I slipped on a soaked rock and fell right on my ass but also caught portion of my fall with the ball of my left foot. Nothing was damaged, but it was unpleasant to go up and down stairs for the up coming two days.

I expended most of the Saturday right before the race going for walks all around Greenwich Village and ingesting coffee, not wanting to shell out my time sitting in an Airbnb with my ft up. A voice in my head began stating matters like, “Maybe you ought to just test to operate quick tomorrow.” Sure, Voice in My Head, I could do that. But it might not be—how would you say—something a good person would do?


Though ingesting coffee at 5 A.M. the early morning of the race, I fully commited to noncommittal: I’d “just” “kind of try” to “run a tiny faster” at the starting and see how it went. Possibly I’d feel very good and keep heading. Possibly I’d feel like rubbish and make your mind up to settle into a slower tempo. Possibly way, I figured ideal circumstance I’d split four hours, and worst circumstance I’d arrive in all around four:twenty or four:thirty. A handful of years ago, I ran a bunch of self-guided marathons in the course of the yr, and if it was moderately flat and I was sensation very good, I could usually end a marathon in about four:twenty. As soon as I went truly tricky and ran one particular in 3:48, all by myself, in the park, carrying sixty ounces of h2o. So in idea, I could it’s possible do it all over again?

(Image: Brendan Leonard)

It is unachievable to exaggerate the electrical power of the New York Town Marathon spectators. There are genuinely extremely handful of sections, and of quick distances, in which you are not remaining viewed, inspired, cheered at, or serenaded by possibly a stay band or a DJ. Just about all of those sections are on the five bridges you cross: the Verrazzano, from Staten Island into Brooklyn the Pulaski, from Brooklyn into Queens the Queensboro, from Queens into Manhattan the Willis Avenue, from Manhattan into the Bronx and the Madison Avenue, from the Bronx back into Manhattan. Lots of marathoners walk the uphill sections of the bridges, so the slowed team velocity, as well as the relative silence, as well as the uphill grade can make the bridges feel extensive, arduous, and morale dampening.

The Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge drops runners into Bay Ridge, the starting of the Brooklyn section of the race. I had operate quick enough up and down the bridge that I could only see a handful of runners in advance of me, all of us distribute out by a hundred ft or more, as we began to come across the very first of the spectators lining the streets, cheering and keeping signs welcoming us to Brooklyn. With how distribute out we were—thanks to the 2021 marathon possessing only thirty,000 entrants compared to fifty three,000 in 2019—and the starting waves staggered with more time in between, the early spectators truly felt like they ended up cheering just for me.

I have expended significantly more of my race time running trail ultramarathons, which have to have loads of hours plodding alongside in solitude with handful of distractions from the suffering in your legs and the amount of miles you have left. The New York Town Marathon is on the opposite close of the spectrum: you practical experience a sensory bombardment that might be a bit terrifying if it did not feel so good and uplifting the overall time.

In various sections, the roar of the group is loud enough and near enough that earplugs would absolutely not be a preposterous notion. Most of the time spectators stand effectively back from the street, but in lots of spots, they slim the race study course, drawn in by the gravity of the runners, their enthusiasm pushing them unconsciously ahead. At one particular position in Williamsburg, the study course tightened into a tunnel of screaming people today, leaving only fifteen ft or so for runners to squeeze as a result of. Some people today maintain out paper towels or tissues for runners to grab as they move, or 50 percent bananas, or candy, and at times spectators have bought a circumstance of h2o bottles to hand out.

(Image: Brendan Leonard)

I have in no way left my residence to go cheer for people today running any kind of footrace, and I don’t know if I comprehend what motivates people today to do it, but I am thankful that they do it. I don’t know why they care if ideal strangers feel inspired and/or even loved for a handful of hours as they battle as a result of the streets—all I can say is that I have in no way felt so supported carrying out anything in my overall lifetime as I have in New York throughout the marathon. I envision it’s some thing like a basketball player feels as they phase up to the foul line with the opportunity to put their group in advance with one particular next remaining on the clock, and the group stands up, cheers, claps, and fills the arena with noise—but when you’re running the marathon, there is no likelihood of allowing any one down. The ball will not bounce off the back of the rim. You just keep transferring ahead. Even if you staggered and passed out on the street, I have a sensation you’d be right away carried off the study course and to medical support within just seconds by two to six New Yorkers. Basically, they might just decide on you up and 50 percent-carry you down the racecourse right until you acquired your ft under you all over again. Who is aware.

A handful of years back, I was exiting a subway station someplace in the Bronx, plodding up a flight of stairs a handful of ft at the rear of an more mature woman carrying a purchasing bag. At each phase, she would established the bag down on the up coming phase, then transfer her ft up, little by little heading up the stairwell, keeping up everyone below her on the stairs as we waited. All of a sudden, a gentleman stepped out from at the rear of me and walked into the flow of people today coming down the stairs. He arrived at above and took the woman’s purchasing bag out of her hand with out stating a term, and then rapidly charged up the very last eight or ten steps. At the leading of the stairs, he established the purchasing bag down and walked off, with out even a glance back. When she arrived at the leading of the stairs, the woman picked up her bag and carried on.

As we ended up waiting around for the race to begin that early morning, I joked to Syd that I believed it would be hilarious to carry a substantial map of the racecourse for the very first couple miles, keeping it out in front of you and stating matters like, “We go straight here” and “We turn left up in advance someplace.” Syd laughed and stated it would be unachievable to get misplaced throughout this race, and I imagine he meant basically but it’s possible also spiritually, in a kind of collective New York humanism way.

NYC marathon elevation profile illustration
(Illustration: Brendan Leonard)

A single way to seem at a marathon is that you’re heading to feel like shit inevitably, and you’re just attempting to maintain it off as extensive as attainable. You hope it doesn’t occur right until mile 23 or 24, but if you go out way too quick, you can come across your self in a undesirable way significantly quicker than you might anticipate. I went out way too quick.

I did not research any kind of race method or seek advice from any kind of expert or coach. I just believed that early morning that I’d test to operate a bunch of nine-minute miles early on in the race and get them in the lender, so to discuss, and the more nine-minute miles I ran, the nearer I’d be to a sub-four-hour tempo. Possibly I could afford to get it a tiny easy close to the close and jog some ten-minute miles if I did not waste way too significantly time halting to refill my h2o bottle and/or speaking to people today.

I stopped to pee after, all around mile eight, finding the complete worst Porta-Potty on the racecourse, the within of which had been sprayed by, effectively, an individual possessing a significantly considerably less gastrointestinally stable working day than me. I bolted in and out as rapidly as I could, rubbing way way too significantly hand sanitizer on my palms as I ducked the tape to head back on to the racecourse.

I stopped to communicate to good friends in Fort Greene, it’s possible for a minute or a little bit considerably less and all over again all around mile sixteen, just after the Queensboro Bridge, when my mate Greg handed me a banana, correctly shelling out me back for the banana I’d offered him when I was looking at the race and he was running it in 2014. I grabbed h2o at various of the later on h2o stations, and a full-dimensions Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup, and a bag of M&Ms from a dude handing out leftover Halloween candy all around mile seventeen. And then at about mile 21, an individual yelled my name from the suitable facet of the racecourse: Syd. I stopped to walk with him for a handful of ft, examining in on how his hamstring felt and experiencing just not running for a while. I was extremely, extremely tempted to chuck my complete notion of running quick and merely walk the rest of the race with Syd. But he informed me to keep heading, so inevitably I began jogging all over again.

By that position, with five miles left, I was starting to drag. I tried using lying to myself, stating matters like, “I feel strong” and “I feel good” in my head as my muscle groups stiffened and I was sure my “running form” was starting to seem like the Tin Guy from The Wizard of Oz. And then at mile 23, the racecourse climbs the hill up Fifth Avenue, simply because, effectively, fuck you. That is what the study course has often performed and in all probability often will do as extensive as they have this marathon, and if it would make you sad and want to cry simply because you’re worn out, that’s just the way it is, but to end the race, you still have to drag your carcass up it one particular way or an additional. Persons, myself incorporated, ended up struggling. I tried using to move as lots of as I could, hoping the mini-sprints to get all around other runners might keep my per-mile tempo at a respectable velocity. A woman who was at the very least six months pregnant, carrying a shirt reading “Baby on Board” on the back, appeared, and I paused to explain to her good task, simply because Ok, I was truly attempting tricky and heading as a result of an powerful own battle below at mile 22, but not, you know, setting up a human remaining in my stomach throughout the marathon.

We turned into Central Park at 86th Avenue, and the spectators ended up all there, screaming, standing largely off to the facet but at times just about in the way, looking for their mate or spouse and children member, and they ended up all clear and showered and not sweaty and carrying good dresses and just in typical the full opposite of how I felt and appeared, and I form of needed them to all go away so I could just do this very last bit of suffering to the end line in personal. Time slowed down, and minutes began to get twice as extensive as they did before in the race, and oh fuck me, that’s suitable, there are a couple more tiny hills, ugh.

Then all of a sudden we turned on to Central Park South, and out of nowhere I caught a sob in the back of my throat, some thing in the way the complete scene in front of me was framed and taking place, and I don’t know where it came from, and for a next I believed I might just begin weeping in front of all these strangers as I ran the very last mile, but I did not truly care if I did or if they cared or discovered, and two breaths later on it just disappeared. My legs fucking hurt, and I kept attempting to explain to myself to lift my knees, but it felt like I was running in sand. But I was not I was still earning development. I appeared at my observe and I had a great deal of time, and unless I somehow tripped and fell and knocked myself unconscious in the up coming fourteen minutes, I would end in under four hours. Which is a completely arbitrary measurement of velocity above a semi-arbitrary distance some dude in historic Greece allegedly ran after, and then we somehow determined that hundreds of cities all around the globe ought to develop mass running situations of that same distance, including New York. And all of that would be a ton to describe if an alien landed below and ran up up coming to me on Central Park South and asked what I was carrying out, and that’s a odd issue to be thinking about, but so is just about bursting into tears after running for 3 hours and fifty minutes straight for no real rationale.

Brendan Leonard marathon morale/speed/form/emotion/fatigue chart
(Illustration: Brendan Leonard)

Just after the very last turn into Central Park at Columbus Circle, a handful of people today could obviously smell the barn and identified an electrical power reserve and ended up able to decide on it up for the closing one particular-3rd mile to the end line. I was not able to come across any this kind of determination. I felt—and also appeared, as the formal race pics later on confirmed—like an individual who had just woken up from a monthlong coma and began wandering all around the clinic. If I had appeared down and noticed that my legs had somehow turned into wood, I would not have been amazed. I jogged throughout the end line, stopped my observe, took a quick selfie and texted it to my spouse with the text “Hello I am dead” and shuffled alongside with all the other finishers, as a result of the volunteers handing us luggage that contains drinks and food stuff. I approved a put up-race poncho from a volunteer and manufactured my way above to a suppress, where I believed I might sit down for a handful of minutes and chug the Gatorade, recovery drink, and bottle of h2o in my bag, but when I tried using to bend my knees more than 25 degrees in order to sit down, it turned clear that I would not be able to get up from that place.

So I kept shuffling, signing up for the just about silent procession of blue zombies earning our way down the park drive to 72nd Avenue. Heads ended up down, no one particular was speaking, simply because they ended up possibly way too worn out or simply because they ended up texting their people today about their end and/or where to meet up to sit on home furniture and consume calories right away on exiting the park. I checked the app to see where Syd was, and he was only a handful of minutes at the rear of me. At 72nd and Central Park West, extensive rows of benches lined each sides of the drive, and I identified a location at the rear of a team of law enforcement officers and gingerly reduced myself midway down, then plopped on to the bench. For a next, I believed I might be able to wrap myself up in the poncho and rest below for a handful of hours.

(Image: Brendan Leonard)

After a handful of minutes, Syd appeared, going for walks up the drive, looking no even worse for dress in than when I’d noticed him a handful of miles ago. He asked how I felt, if I’d completed in under four hours, and then stated, “I popped my hamstring twice in the very last quarter-mile.” I stated “Uhhhh what, is it truly unpleasant?” He stated, still 50 percent-smiling, “Oh yeah.” We stopped in front of the very last formal race photographer to get our photo jointly and then walked out of the park, heading for the medical tent to get some ice. Syd stated, “That was the dumbest issue I have ever performed, and it was also the most remarkable issue I have ever performed.” And then:

“I imagine I understood right now that I don’t will need to do any other races—this is the finest race in the globe.” I comprehended what he meant. He just loves the experience—the crowds, the town, the runners, the complete journey. But I concurrently believed, “That is specifically the form of mind-set that pushes you to the position where you imagine it’s Ok to injure your self in the very last four hundred meters of your slowest marathon ever, Syd.” And truthfully, I have a tricky time blaming him.

(Image: Brendan Leonard)