Congratulations to Paul, who finished the New York City Marathon in 4:13:44. I spoke with him after he crossed the finish line yesterday -- he was feeling good and was pleased with his time. He returns to Columbus today.
About 48,000 runners participated in the marathon, including 22,000 who were scheduled to run last year, according to the television broadcast of the race on Sunday. The fastest man, from Kenya, finished in 2:08:24.
It's been a long-time goal of Paul's to run this marathon, and I'm glad he was able to. But I'm sorry I wasn't there to see it.
Showing posts with label running. Show all posts
Showing posts with label running. Show all posts
Monday, November 4, 2013
Friday, March 29, 2013
Updates from the Last Year (or So)
Changes big (giant!) and small filled the 14 months since my last update post.
Here are a few of the things I've written about since January 2012 and where they stand now:
May 2012: When we replaced our 1998 Saturn with a 2009 Volkswagen Jetta the previous month, I was happy, but Paul was thrilled. He had wanted a new car for a while, but the positive pregnancy test earlier in the year spurred him to do the research and make the purchase. Paul was a little more worried after we installed the car seat in the back and he had to move the driver's seat waaaaaay up. But he's gotten used to it and all is good. And surprisingly we've used the seat warmers much, much, much more than the sunroof.
August 2012: I had strong suspicions about what would be the most difficult parts about raising a baby in New York City, and I was largely correct. The number of stairs to our apartment is annoying, and not having an in-unit washer and dryer is even more so. Taking Edith outdoors with me alone requires me to descend three floors with the stroller, set it up, and then go back upstairs to get Edith. And I dream of the day I can just pop a load in the washer instead of waiting for Paul to get home before one of us can take the swing that Edith just pooped all over down to the laundromat.
November 2012: The New York City Marathon was cancelled last year due to Hurricane Sandy, but Paul is officially a runner in the 2013 race!
November 2012: Need I say it? Edith was born.
February 2013: Just as I had given up on Paul shaving off his beard, he did it! Paul's beard began the day Edith was born and lasted almost four months. The mustache lasted about 10 minutes longer than the beard before that, too, was shaved away.
February 2013: Gently remind Paul to get moving on the presidential biographies so we can restart our Presidents by the Book project! I have already renewed the biography on William Howard Taft exactly 47 times.
Present: We still own our home in Galloway, Ohio, and yet again we have a new renter after some issues with the last tenants. Here's hoping this one works out.
Here are a few of the things I've written about since January 2012 and where they stand now:
May 2012: When we replaced our 1998 Saturn with a 2009 Volkswagen Jetta the previous month, I was happy, but Paul was thrilled. He had wanted a new car for a while, but the positive pregnancy test earlier in the year spurred him to do the research and make the purchase. Paul was a little more worried after we installed the car seat in the back and he had to move the driver's seat waaaaaay up. But he's gotten used to it and all is good. And surprisingly we've used the seat warmers much, much, much more than the sunroof.
August 2012: I had strong suspicions about what would be the most difficult parts about raising a baby in New York City, and I was largely correct. The number of stairs to our apartment is annoying, and not having an in-unit washer and dryer is even more so. Taking Edith outdoors with me alone requires me to descend three floors with the stroller, set it up, and then go back upstairs to get Edith. And I dream of the day I can just pop a load in the washer instead of waiting for Paul to get home before one of us can take the swing that Edith just pooped all over down to the laundromat.
November 2012: The New York City Marathon was cancelled last year due to Hurricane Sandy, but Paul is officially a runner in the 2013 race!
November 2012: Need I say it? Edith was born.
February 2013: Just as I had given up on Paul shaving off his beard, he did it! Paul's beard began the day Edith was born and lasted almost four months. The mustache lasted about 10 minutes longer than the beard before that, too, was shaved away.
February 2013: Gently remind Paul to get moving on the presidential biographies so we can restart our Presidents by the Book project! I have already renewed the biography on William Howard Taft exactly 47 times.
Present: We still own our home in Galloway, Ohio, and yet again we have a new renter after some issues with the last tenants. Here's hoping this one works out.
Monday, November 5, 2012
New York City Marathon: Cancelled
This post was supposed to be about how Paul finished his first New York City Marathon. Instead, it's about how the race was cancelled some 36 hours before it was set to begin.
Paul heard the news late Friday afternoon, soon after he picked up his racing number and packet at the convention center in Manhattan
I understand why the race was called off. Resources are needed elsewhere after Hurricane Sandy, and a marathon at this point could look frivolous. However, I'm still sad that Paul's dream of running the New York City Marathon will be put off once again -- he was denied entry the last three years and only finally got in this year.
I'm sad, but I'm also relieved for Paul's sake. There was a lot of anger from some residents when the city and the running association said the race would continue as planned. There were even reports of people planning to throw eggs and batteries at the runners.
The vitriol is still high, and from runners, too. While runners entered in this year's race will get an automatic berth in next year's marathon, it appears that they will have to pay the $200+ entry fee all over again -- this year's entry fee may not be returned. And when many, many runners have said that they would like a refund, they're told by other runners that they're being selfish in the wake of so much devastation.
Personally, I wish the race would have been postponed instead of cancelled. Or cancelled days -- not hours -- before the marathon was to begin.
More than 40,000 runners were scheduled to run the marathon, many traveling from around the world and spending thousands of dollars to accomplish their goal. Of course I'm sorry for the havoc Hurricane Sandy wreaked on New York City, but allow me a little corner of sadness for the athletes who have trained so hard and so long and come so far to see the marathon taken away so close to the starting line.
Postscript: Paul and his running friends in one day raised more than $1,700 that will go to Brooklyn neighborhoods impacted by the storm. Then, on Sunday morning they ran 18 miles to one of the hardest hit communities in Queens, carrying supplies on their backs. However, at times they still got jeered by onlookers who assumed they were on a pleasure run.
In addition, one of Paul's tweets about his anger and disappointment over the marathon being cancelled was included in a BuzzFeed article that listed 15 tweets from runners after the announcement.
The comments about these runners being selfish and whiny made me very upset. Why isn't it OK to feel angry and disappointed about not running a race you've looked forward to for years? It certainly doesn't mean you care any less for those affected by the hurricane. I think Paul proved that Sunday morning.
Paul heard the news late Friday afternoon, soon after he picked up his racing number and packet at the convention center in Manhattan
I understand why the race was called off. Resources are needed elsewhere after Hurricane Sandy, and a marathon at this point could look frivolous. However, I'm still sad that Paul's dream of running the New York City Marathon will be put off once again -- he was denied entry the last three years and only finally got in this year.
I'm sad, but I'm also relieved for Paul's sake. There was a lot of anger from some residents when the city and the running association said the race would continue as planned. There were even reports of people planning to throw eggs and batteries at the runners.
The vitriol is still high, and from runners, too. While runners entered in this year's race will get an automatic berth in next year's marathon, it appears that they will have to pay the $200+ entry fee all over again -- this year's entry fee may not be returned. And when many, many runners have said that they would like a refund, they're told by other runners that they're being selfish in the wake of so much devastation.
Personally, I wish the race would have been postponed instead of cancelled. Or cancelled days -- not hours -- before the marathon was to begin.
More than 40,000 runners were scheduled to run the marathon, many traveling from around the world and spending thousands of dollars to accomplish their goal. Of course I'm sorry for the havoc Hurricane Sandy wreaked on New York City, but allow me a little corner of sadness for the athletes who have trained so hard and so long and come so far to see the marathon taken away so close to the starting line.
Postscript: Paul and his running friends in one day raised more than $1,700 that will go to Brooklyn neighborhoods impacted by the storm. Then, on Sunday morning they ran 18 miles to one of the hardest hit communities in Queens, carrying supplies on their backs. However, at times they still got jeered by onlookers who assumed they were on a pleasure run.
In addition, one of Paul's tweets about his anger and disappointment over the marathon being cancelled was included in a BuzzFeed article that listed 15 tweets from runners after the announcement.
The comments about these runners being selfish and whiny made me very upset. Why isn't it OK to feel angry and disappointed about not running a race you've looked forward to for years? It certainly doesn't mean you care any less for those affected by the hurricane. I think Paul proved that Sunday morning.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
All in a Morning's Run: Three New York City Bridges
Today: Paul writes about training for the United States Air Force Marathon in Dayton, Ohio, to be held later this month.
I'll be running my third marathon this year and have come to the conclusion that it never gets easier. You just know how hard it will be ahead of time and that in the end you'll be able to do it.
I've started running with my friend Syed and his chapter of Team in Training this year, and he had the idea to trace 17 miles of the New York City Marathon course one recent Saturday morning.
The path took us from Brooklyn to Queens to Manhattan and then back to Brooklyn.
We started in the neighborhood of Fort Greene and ran all the way to Williamsburg, but not the hipster part. We just ran by a bunch of orthodox families who gave us somewhat puzzled looks, and then we made our way through Greenpoint and over to the Pulaski Bridge.
Few people walk over the Pulaski Bridge. It is anything but scenic, surrounded mostly by body shops and industrial businesses and crossing a body of water that connects to the Gowanus. I think that was around mile 8, and your legs really start to feel the elevation when you run over the bridge.
After that, we were in Long Island City for a while as we made our way to the Queensboro Bridge, which requires crossing the street multiple times as we had to go through a five-way intersection and dodge construction detours.
As we started running on that bridge, I came to understand why it's supposed to be the loneliest part of the New York City Marathon. The race starts just over the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge in Staten Island and then goes up some populated stretches of Brooklyn, including Bay Ridge, Sunset Park, Park Slope, Fort Greene, Williamsburg and Greenpoint, then into the young urban professional neighborhood of Long Island City, Queens. The sides of the street are packed with supporters and fans the entire way, cheering your tired legs on and pushing you forward.
But spectators aren't allowed on the Queensboro Bridge, and you pass not one, but two mile markers on it. I've never run the New York City Marathon, but it's hard to imagine going from that volume and energy to silence as you're crossing the bridge.
The most rewarding part of crossing the long bridge came after about 10 minutes, when I could actually see the bridge descending and was satisfied that we had actually made it over the bridge faster than the cars due to a traffic jam. We then headed toward Park Avenue where the Summer Streets festival was in its final day.
During Summer Streets, Park Avenue is shut down to cars all the way from the Brooklyn Bridge to Central Park. There's all kinds of bikers, rollerbladers and kids learning to ride on what is normally one of the most heavily trafficked streets in the country.
We ran through Grand Central and then made our way to the financial district and Chinatown. Then we headed back toward the river for our third and final bridge. It was kind of depressing having to go back to running on the side of the street with its traffic and stop lights when we'd just owned the last four miles or so of pavement, but that's life.
We hit the Manhattan Bridge to return to Brooklyn. This bridge in my opinion is underrated compared to its rival the Brooklyn Bridge. There's an eerie silence you have running over it except for the occasional roar of the subway passing by. We made it over and I noticed that there's a rooftop tennis court on one of the buildings by it. I'll never understand why the super rich want to live in a place where the subway rumbles right outside their window, but to each his own.
We then had to run through Brooklyn Heights and downtown Brooklyn. When I stopped, my legs started cramping up and were angry with me for making them cross three bridges.
Hard to believe that I'd have to add 9 miles to that run to make it through the New York City Marathon, but I have a better appreciation for why people love it so much. Only in New York could you get that much variety running through so many different city neighborhoods.
Paul blogs about our quest to read a biography on every president of the United States on Presidents By the Book.
I'll be running my third marathon this year and have come to the conclusion that it never gets easier. You just know how hard it will be ahead of time and that in the end you'll be able to do it.
I've started running with my friend Syed and his chapter of Team in Training this year, and he had the idea to trace 17 miles of the New York City Marathon course one recent Saturday morning.
The path took us from Brooklyn to Queens to Manhattan and then back to Brooklyn.
We started in the neighborhood of Fort Greene and ran all the way to Williamsburg, but not the hipster part. We just ran by a bunch of orthodox families who gave us somewhat puzzled looks, and then we made our way through Greenpoint and over to the Pulaski Bridge.
Few people walk over the Pulaski Bridge. It is anything but scenic, surrounded mostly by body shops and industrial businesses and crossing a body of water that connects to the Gowanus. I think that was around mile 8, and your legs really start to feel the elevation when you run over the bridge.
After that, we were in Long Island City for a while as we made our way to the Queensboro Bridge, which requires crossing the street multiple times as we had to go through a five-way intersection and dodge construction detours.
As we started running on that bridge, I came to understand why it's supposed to be the loneliest part of the New York City Marathon. The race starts just over the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge in Staten Island and then goes up some populated stretches of Brooklyn, including Bay Ridge, Sunset Park, Park Slope, Fort Greene, Williamsburg and Greenpoint, then into the young urban professional neighborhood of Long Island City, Queens. The sides of the street are packed with supporters and fans the entire way, cheering your tired legs on and pushing you forward.
But spectators aren't allowed on the Queensboro Bridge, and you pass not one, but two mile markers on it. I've never run the New York City Marathon, but it's hard to imagine going from that volume and energy to silence as you're crossing the bridge.
The most rewarding part of crossing the long bridge came after about 10 minutes, when I could actually see the bridge descending and was satisfied that we had actually made it over the bridge faster than the cars due to a traffic jam. We then headed toward Park Avenue where the Summer Streets festival was in its final day.
During Summer Streets, Park Avenue is shut down to cars all the way from the Brooklyn Bridge to Central Park. There's all kinds of bikers, rollerbladers and kids learning to ride on what is normally one of the most heavily trafficked streets in the country.
We ran through Grand Central and then made our way to the financial district and Chinatown. Then we headed back toward the river for our third and final bridge. It was kind of depressing having to go back to running on the side of the street with its traffic and stop lights when we'd just owned the last four miles or so of pavement, but that's life.
We hit the Manhattan Bridge to return to Brooklyn. This bridge in my opinion is underrated compared to its rival the Brooklyn Bridge. There's an eerie silence you have running over it except for the occasional roar of the subway passing by. We made it over and I noticed that there's a rooftop tennis court on one of the buildings by it. I'll never understand why the super rich want to live in a place where the subway rumbles right outside their window, but to each his own.
We then had to run through Brooklyn Heights and downtown Brooklyn. When I stopped, my legs started cramping up and were angry with me for making them cross three bridges.
Hard to believe that I'd have to add 9 miles to that run to make it through the New York City Marathon, but I have a better appreciation for why people love it so much. Only in New York could you get that much variety running through so many different city neighborhoods.
Paul blogs about our quest to read a biography on every president of the United States on Presidents By the Book.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
LinkWithin
