Well, we did it.

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Yesterday, April 28, 2024, I got up at 6:30am after a very restless night (no surprise there). I got on my game face and body glide while Bob pinned my bib to my race shirt. I reviewed our strategy as we walked up the block for a smoothie (my usual breakfast), and back in the room I drank my tea and smoothie in alternating gulps, while Bob reminded me of our early morning plan. I would do my lunge matrix, then walk the block over to Central Park, find my corral, and call that my warm up. He would wrangle the Ringlets, and find me before the start.

In the elevator I ran into someone else with a bib. In the lobby I saw another group of bibs. As we all headed, separately, to the park, many more women filled in the gaps, so we ended up all together. Pink shirts and women were draining into the park like water in a sink. They said that there were more than eleven thousand of us.

I passed the porta potties and thought “maybe I had better go now,” until I saw the line, and I decided I could hold it for thirteen miles. I found my corral halfway up the park, kind of between cherry hill and strawberry fields, which was about 10 streets north of the start. I stood in the corral with thousands of other women, all shoulder to shoulder. They asked first timers to raise their hands – there were a lot of us! At a signal I never saw, we tightened up the gaps, moving maybe 200 yards forward. I saw Bob suddenly, striding in my direction, gaggle of kids more or less in tow. I squeezed to the side and gave him my long sleeve and he gave me my sunnies, I high-fived the kids, and we suddenly began tightening up again. By the by, I’m used to going to races. I’ve been to more of Bob’s than I can count. But I’ve never seen so many support gentlemen in attendance. It really drove home that this was a race for women. It was really empowering, and I’m grateful I got to be there.

The starting gun was at 8am exactly, and we all moved forward steadily (not fast, a comfortable pace), and at 8:15, I crossed the starting line. We all started jogging, and it felt good! It was exciting to be in this big group, all of us there for our own reasons, but all there together. I kept checking my pace on my watch, and I was starting way too fast. I knew this, and marveled at it. Even during my walking periods, I was walking in the low 14:00s, but would typically be about a minute slower. The air felt fresher, the screams sounded joyful for once, the signs were all encouraging. The best signs I saw included: “it’s okay to poop your pants,” and “hurry up, brunch is waiting,” and “running is mental and you’re all insane,” and “run now, wine later.” Chef’s kiss.

Bob and I had agreed that I should walk up the big hill, which showed up between miles 3 and 4, and again between 9 and 10. Our reckoning was a little bit off, but I knew when the hill was coming and reluctantly (the first time) slowed to a brisk walk.

I used the downhills to run, and walked uphills. My second half got quite a bit slower, because I really did start too fast. Despite that, I did PR a bunch of things! Including a half marathon, since I’d never actually gone 13.1 miles before.

By mile 8, I was 6 minutes ahead of my expected pace of 15 m/m. I really had to pee; planning to ignore it wasn’t working. At 8 miles there was a clutch of porta potties, and a short line. I sank about 5 minutes into standing in line, which was annoying, but I also felt way rested.

I saw Bob and the kids 4 times, and got high fives from them 3 times, which helped!

Around mile 5 I started thinking to myself “do I have 8 more miles in the tank? Yes I do!” (Adjusted mathematically for each mile.) I found I was often around the same women, maybe not all at once, but I recognized the backs of quite a few heads, and could tell when the woman in a black long sleeve was next to me again. It felt like having a buddy – who you didn’t have to talk to – who understood and recognized your pacing.

In my workouts, my last mile has always been a warm down mile, but I ended up needing two cool down miles. I got to the gauntlet ahead of the finish line, and I was all by myself and the guy read out my name and a bunch of very kind and possibly drunk or over caffeinated people cheered (no shade! I loved it), so I picked it up and jogged across the finish. It felt good.

Something I hadn’t thought about was the winners, and the people who were there competitively. Intellectually, I knew they were there of course, but I wasn’t focused on them at all – which I think is natural! But quite early on, these bikes got amongst and yelled “move right! Move right!” (The people on the bikes were doing the yelling if you need to be pedantic about it) and these women absolutely sailed by. It was actually exciting! I had forgotten that elite runners were even there (they had started so far ahead of me in distance and time), and then they suddenly were there. I mean, briefly. They were very fast. But it was the beginning of getting lapped, and I don’t know why, but I absolutely loved it. As a rank amateur, it was such a joy to see people who were total pros do something really difficult, really well. The woman in first finished two hours ahead of me (1 hour and 59 minutes actually), which is mad. How amazing.

I picked up my medal and I heard Eleanor, and turned around and there she was! She was proud of me. I told them not to touch me because I was so sweaty, but it was too late I was already hugging them all. Henry told me he was really tired and asked if we could go. That brought me back down to earth!

After hanging around for awhile and getting a bagel and some apples, we headed to the hotel where we had late checkout, so I could shower. We packed up and headed to lunch. I had a margarita! Just kidding. I had two. We went to Madison square park so the kids could play and blow off some steam while I decompressed.

Bob and I talked about the race. I couldn’t have done this without him. He pointed out that most people wouldn’t be able to do a couch to half marathon – that it just wouldn’t be feasible. I countered with the fact that most people don’t live with their coaches. He was right there, not letting me forget about a workout, or letting me cheat on a rep or whatever. He was tailoring my weeks, and when my knees hurt for a few weeks tailoring day by day, and making sure that I would be ready. And I was! He really is the one who made this happen, and I’m endlessly grateful and thrilled.

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We stayed at the Empire Hotel, overlooking Lincoln Center, which was pretty cool.

The day before, we took the kids to the big playground in Central Park, and Bob took a picture of me relaxing.

The night before the race I was instructed to eat sushi, so I took the twins to get sushi, while Bob kept Grant entertained. He ended up taking him to a Jim Gaffigan show, to get dollar pizza, and then to play at Central Park.

After the kids were asleep, we nipped up to the rooftop bar (where I wasn’t allowed to drink OR get dessert) for 20 minutes just to talk in a normal volume for a few minutes before bed.

I was kind of obsessed with the reflections in the windows, which I will put down to pre-race nerves.

We were staying in a room with two double beds and pull-out couch. The twins took the pull-out, and Bob and Grant shared one of the beds, and I got one to myself! And a good thing, too, because I slept badly.

After the race, I noticed that I had walked 30,000 steps – all by 11:15am! I also hit within my expected finish time. Bob estimated 3:30 total time, so finishing 3:15 was nice.

I took a few photos of the racers as we got into our corrals. Here’s one such example:

Here are the photos Bob took:

Post race, my delicious margarita (first of two):

Then at the park:

Here’s Bob when he’s rolling his eyes at me:

Today I looked up my results on the NYRR site.

So now I’m 43! We did it, gang!