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| Place | Gender Place | Age Place | Runner No. | First Name | Last Name | Age | Team | State/ Country | Official Time | 5K Time | 10K Time | 15K Time | 20K Time | 1/2 Mar. Time | 25K Time | 30K Time | 35K Time | 40K Time | Pace/ Mile | |
| 35019 | 24220 | 2803 | 45593 | Kevin | Schultz | 29M | CA | USA | 5:43:46 | 0:36:38 | 1:13:08 | 1:51:09 | 2:31:23 | 2:40:07 | 3:16:03 | 3:58:02 | 4:43:02 | 5:26:09 | 13:07 | |
The "Kevin *heart* NYC" shirt rocked all five boroughs. Coming down the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge I encountered the first group of spectators. "Hey Kevin, NYC loves you" came the encouragement from the sidelines. Imagine this personalized encouragement multiplied by 1,000 times over the next 26.2 miles. Spectators loved getting my attention and I happily cheered them on — clapping, thanking them for coming out, raising my arms, giving the thumbs-up, smiling widely and often.
I took various public transportation systems to the start — PATH, Staten Island Ferry, and the marathon shuttle bus. I left the hotel around 04:00 Sunday morning and met a number of inebriated yet fun-loving young men and women on their way home. I walked from the WTC memorial to the Staten Island Ferry and took the 5:00. Upon arrival a ferry employee directed me to the shuttle buses. I had not purchased a ticket but the driver waved me on through. The bus dropped me off at Fort Wadsworth around 06:00.
The four-hour wait proved cold and energy-draining as I walked about to stay warm. Others brought traditional blankets, space blankets, cardboard to sit upon, and other cold-weather gear. I sat and shivered for a while and then walked around to pass the time. By the time the 10:10 start arrived I felt slightly tired both from the walking and not being able to sleep (two hours sleep). I waited in line for about 25 minutes to use a portable toilet. Desperate males (and one female with the help of two friends with towels) relieved themselves along a fence nearby. A Wadsworth Park official looked on without action.
Due to my expected time I started in the orange corral. I heard the cannon boom and a cheer erupt from ahead of me. I heard and then saw a large four-prop aircraft pass 150-feet above us. It took about five to ten minutes before we reached the Verazzano-Narrows Bridge start. During that time people ditched any clothing they had worn to the side. This sort of worked. I ended up stepping over large amounts of clothing. Some people liked a discarded piece and picked it up for themselves.
Running up the Verazanno-Narrows Bridge provides a breathtaking view of the Upper New York Bay. Below, municipal fire-fighting boats saluted runners by propelling water through all of their cannons. More males stopped to pee on the side of the bridge in front of everyone. Lovely.
Leaving Staten Island behind I came down off the Verazanno-Narrows Bridge and heard my first "New York loves you, Kevin!" cheer from the crowd. At that moment I realized this was going to be no ordinary race. The entire day I received 100% encouragement and support from the sidelines.
Running the first miles through Brooklyn didn't leave a big impression on me. Apparently I passed Fort Hamilton at mile two but I must have missed it. I do remember noticing the great diversity of ethnicities as I ran miles three to seven. This straight stretch also shows the Manhattan skyline looming ahead. At mile six I passed the Al-Noor Day School.
At mile eight the course turns and the crowd roars. Running through mile nine the crowd turned predominantly African-American.
Running through mile ten I encountered my first Hasidic Judaic neighborhood. The people were conservatively dressed and quiet. I received no cheers and the streets seemed mostly empty.
Around mile 10 I realized I felt tired. In reaction to that I felt anxious. To come all this way and not finish under six hours? I knew based on my pace and the course that my time might be in the six hour range. I met Dawn just past mile 11 and we hugged and kissed. It was like coming in for a pit stop to get refreshed. We made plans to see each other again at mile 17.
Nothing else captured my imagination until the halfway point. This was the course's second major climb; the Pulaski Bridge leading out of Brooklyn into Queens. I remember climbing this bridge because I passed so many walkers.
At mile 15 I ran across the Queensboro Bridge. This represented the second largest incline of the race. It seemed to go on forever. I remember someone carrying the flag of Puerto Rico and wearing a uniform with epaulettes.
After the isolation from the crowds going over the Queensboro Bridge I felt overwhelmed at the wall of people and the cheers as I entered Manhattan's First Avenue. Incredible energy.
The energy continued for two miles as the packed crowds cheered on both sides of the wide streets. I realized as I reached mile 17 that Dawn and I had miscalculated in our naivety and not planned for which side to meet each other on. Dawn later reported she saw me only after I had passed and that she stood on the opposite side of the five-lane street. At mile 18 I remember stepping on a number of Spongebob Squarepants sponges with the phrase "Best Day Ever" on them. Cute.
During mile 19 I remember giving up the three-minutes running and one-minute walking routine. I think I overextended myself during the energy rush of running down First Avenue. I realized the downside of wearing a "Kevin *heart* NYC" shirt is that everyone wants to cheer you on and says, "Don't stop now Kevin." Runners guilt, hee hee. I'd be running along and my watch would beep indicating time to take a break, and people would switch from cheering to encouragement. The nice thing about leaving the 3-1 running/walking ratio is that I run faster during the minute I run and I enjoy the race more. The downside is that I slow down considerably.
At mile 20 which is when we crossed the Willis Avenue Bridge out of Manhattan into the Bronx. The rest during mile 19 allowed me to power over this bridge in my one-minute bursts relatively easily. I ran past a number of people walking their way up the bridge. I loved meeting the Bronx spectators. A number of DJ's with portable amplifiers welcomed us. Other locals cheered us on. The Bronx only has one mile of the marathon but they cheered us on more than in Queens and Staten Island.
Mile 21 meant crossing back into Manhattan via the Madison Avenue Bridge. I remember running down it and feeling good. Downhill good.
The next several miles ran through the eastern parts of Harlem and I enjoyed the local sights. Dawn and I had visited Harlem earlier in our trip to find the only IHOP in Manhattan.
Mile 23 meant finally getting into Central Park and the end of the race. I was really tired by this point but kept on going as long as I felt comfortable. I tried one or two different running combinations but ended up sticking with the three-minutes walking one-minute running combination.
At mile 25 we hit the end of Central Park and turned west. I remember running pretty solidly during this point, stopping maybe every half-mile. The number of people and energy of the crowd running through the final two miles is incredible. I felt overwhelmed at the number of people yelling "Hey Kevin" and other such things. Running through the corral to the finish line with skyscrapers towering above and people on both sides was something I'll never forget.
At the finish line I remember crossing and seeing my time and feeling relief. I received my finishers medal and heat shield, removed the chip from my shoe, and began walking toward my checked baggage van. My feelings of excitement quickly turned to disgust as I realized that my truck, #79, was literally 79 UPS trucks away. x_x The air was cold and I felt confused about which way to go. Do I meet Dawn first? Do I get my baggage first? Where's the bathroom? I felt disappointment with how the marathon handles the meeting area. After about a mile walk to the baggage truck, the two helpful baggage handlers loaded bottles of water and juice and food into my goody bag. The bag was so heavy I had to stop and dump all the liquids so I felt comfortable carrying it. I stumbled out to Central Park West and noticed that the my surname letter was about another three blocks south.
And there I met Dawn, tired, hungry, exhausted, disappointed, from holding the sign we made all day long. We sat on a bench and held each other for a number of minutes, happy to be together once again. I took two of the Tylenol 8-Hour pills and then we made our way to a subway station and back to the hotel.
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