Native New Yorker P. Diddy (alias Puff Daddy) stole the spotlight from the Kenyans, who swept the first three places in both the men’s and women’s divisions. But he was no match for native New Yorker Ray Christensen! I missed a P.R., but captured 4,416th place out of 34,600 finishers.

P. Diddy,  had heavily publicized his run, to raise money for charity. He raised over $2 million, much of it for NY City schools. Meanwhile, I was struggling to raise the remaining $600 I’d committed to for Arthritis Foundation for 2003.

Big Apple Places Best Foot Forward!
Runners visiting New York for the first time will not soon forget the support they were shown. The organizers of this monumental event did a fabulous job. Local citizens of every nationality gave their all to cheer on runners and help push us to the finish line.

A long commute after a short night of sleep
It’s strongly recommended to get more than 5 1/2 hours of sleep prior to running a marathon. You could say that I ignored this conventional wisdom. My alarm went off at 4:30am, I ate some Raisin Bran, took my mega-vitamins, stretched a bit and suited up. I drove 8 miles to the Continental Avenue (Queens) subway station. My heart skipped a beat when I saw a locked gate at the first entrance I tried, but down the street the gate was open and I took a seat next to several silent people waiting for the F train. Within a few stops, several marathoners boarded and when we got off at 42nd Street, we joined thousands of runners being lined up outside the NY Public Library to board busses to Staten Island.

Final leg of trip to start
Hundreds of smiling volunteers wished us “Good Morning” and “Good Luck”! I sat next to a Costa Rican runner who was shooting for a 3:15 time. As the sun rose, we toured southern Manhattan before taking the tunnel to Brooklyn. By 7am, we were at the staging area at Fort Wadsworth, Staten Island.

Wait, Food, Drink and Port-A-Potties
The pleasant atmosphere of a county fair greeted us at the staging area in the shadow of the Verrazano Bridge. 40,000 of us lined up for coffee, bagels, yogurt smoothies, and plenty of water as a band played live music from a stage. UPS trucks would take our bags of supplies to the finish line. Port-a-potties stretched as far as the eye could see. We would be herded into our corrals at 9:30, as the elite women were starting. Race time was 10:10am.

Race starts under a brilliant sun
I was herded into my corral (the 13,000-13,999 group) and got in precious little last-minute stretching. When a couple people tried to escape the corral, armed soldiers ordered them back in. After 20 minutes, we were sent to the start area near the tollbooths. More waiting. The National Anthem. At 10:10, the gun sounds. New York, New York is playing and we’re bound for glory!

Since I had a Red bib, I ran east in the westbound lanes of the bridge, which afforded me a good view of the helicopters overhead and the fireboats saluting us with red and blue colored water below. Blue bibs were to my right, and Green bibs unfortunately got to take the lower level to Brooklyn.  Running felt good and the 60 degree temperature felt great.

Brooklyn – Water, Pitstop and Music!
The crowd lined both sides of 4th Avenue, cheering loudly. I took advantage of having my name written on my singlet by running close to the spectators. By the end of the race, I’d feel like a rock star, having had hundreds of people yell my name, with comments like:
“Ray, you’re the man!”     “Go for it, Ray!”     “Looking good, Ray!” …

I nodded when they called me. I gave high fives and low fives. I laughed at the kids handing out water while dressed in raingear. Music filled the air all types… Rock, Jazz, Bagpipes, boomboxes, a guy sitting on his 2nd floor window ledge playing sax. Everyone was cheering – whites, blacks, Puerto Ricans, hecitic Jews, Asians. New York at it’s best.

Passing mile 4, I noticed a park with a hedge of bushes near the street. The opportunity to water those bushes was not to be passed up. Out loud I said “those bushes look mighty good!” and the runner ahead of me immediately agreed and veered off to help me water them.

First Avenue – Is it in you?
First Avenue runs a long way. Miles 16 through 20 show you what you’re made of. Legs start getting tired, but it’s too soon to count down the miles to the finish. Each water stop is an oasis and I crave the Gatorade locations for an excuse to walk a few steps. Crowd support gets more important as you need any advantage you can get. Mile 18 gives you some Power Gel for a boost of energy. At 18.5, cool, wet sponges are given out and I happily keep mine to wet at the remaining water stops, since the temperature is now in the upper 60′s.

The Bronx – Crunch Time
The short climb of the bridge into the Bronx is not easy, and it’s a very tangible example of “the wall”. Red carpet covers the grated sections, but you don’t really feel like a VIP at this point. Salsa music. Heavy Metal. More bagpipes. It all helps at this point. It’s a great feeling to finally turn back south into Manhattan for the home stretch, but the final five miles are no walk in the park!

Fifth Avenue – Just do it!
By this time, crowd support has become crucial. As marathoners take walking breaks, they’re urged to keep up the pace.  Five miles to go is equivalent to 3 laps at Delcastle Park. First Avenue gradually rises and it takes more and more concentration to resist the urge to stop and walk. We’re running down the east side of Central Park and my pace has slowed. With two miles left, I start feeling cramps in several places, including my right hamstring, which has never bothered me before. Not quite panic, but I pray and it eases up as I run through it.

Glory!!!!!! – the final mile
My final walk break is at mile 25 and I break back into a trot.  I’m right near my Anchorage pace, although hopes for a PR are dwindling. Approaching the southeast corner of the park, we enter and make a long curve to the right. I know I’m going to finish, so I wave at the cheering spectators far away on the left, behind barricades. Several wave back. Another turn to the right and signs for the final meters and yards start to appear. I run between the grandstands, with the finish line in sight. As always, I raise my arms in triumph while crossing the line, then stop my watch, which reads a very unofficial 3:43:18. A medal is placed around my neck. Congratulations are offered. Water. Gatorade. A bag containing an apple, banana, energy bar and Tylenol. As I join my fellow warriors on our long, slow march out of the park, I’m happy.
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Joints in Motion "Team EPA"

Our team had members participating in the Marathon, Half-Marathon, 5k Run (all sharing same course) and even a hiking trip on a nearby mountain. We proudly wore green Joints in Motion tatoos.

Tony Knowles Coastal Trail
My alarm ended a sound night’s sleep at 5:30am. After stretching and some push-ups, I headed for our Power Breakfast. The fruit, oatmeal and bran muffins got the day started off well. Then it was back to the room to suit up and apply a JIM temporary tattoo under my right ear. I took a packet of gel, a  granola bar, advil, and tissues. A bus transported us to the start/finish area at Westchester Lagoon near the bay. It was a small event, with about 260 people participating in the marathon, with a similar number doing the half. There was a separate 7am start for marathon walkers. Weather was near perfect with temperature in the upper 50’s and an overcast sky. We’d feel occasional rain sprinkles throughout the race. Almost none of us would see a moose.

Loopy course
I did a one mile warm-up jog and limped to the start line, since one of my knees had been sore for a few weeks. The gun went off at 8am and we headed east on the first of three loops. The sore leg would be a factor, but I maintained an 8 minute/mile pace fairly easily. I wore a cap for the first six miles, and my jacket most of the race. There were few spectators, but the out-and-back loops allowed us to pass the runners (and walkers) of all events on the narrow path. The park was wooded and pretty. Most hills were quite tame. I hydrated at every water station and walked through them for the most part, while sipping Ultima power drink.

Lonely 2nd Half
At the halfway point, I was on pace for a 3:30 time, but I knew I’d slow down. Things got more challenging. We had a couple hills and also were alone with the trail. The half-marathoners were back at the lagoon and the only spectators were occasional people walking along the trail, unaware that a marathon was taking place. The most depressing spot was a water station at mile 16 that was unmanned. This wouldn’t have been too bad except that it also had no water!!! I learned this after I slowed to a walk and opened a granola bar (Chocolate Chunk). I nibbled at the granola anyway and was soon met by a woman on a bike who assured me that there was water at the turnaround coming up at mile 18.2.

Just before hitting the turnaround, I began to see the lead runners headed back toward the finish. I occupied few minutes seeking the perfect tree to utilize for some important business. It was a great morale booster to make the turn and head for home. Within minutes, I greeted some teammates. Each milemarker became huge, as my calves started to stiffen. I yelled encouragement to most of the runners I met, especially anyone with the lime-green “Joints” shirt. By mile 22, I was taking walk breaks at least once per mile, plus at water stations. I glanced at my watch, knowing that I was losing time. As long as I didn’t have major problems, I’d beat my Dublin time, but I was hoping to run under 3:40, so there was little cushion. The last mile saw me walk three times, as I wondered if stamina or stiff legs was the main culprit. Finally seeing the finish line about 400 meters away across the lagoon, I removed my jacket and increased my pace, realizing that there was a chance that I’d be the first J.I.M. athlete to finish.

Triumphant finish!
With only a couple runners crossing the line every minute, names were announced. That’s when your name can’t possibly sound any sweeter. My JIM coordinator Mike was right there to wrap me in a foil blanket and confirm that I was in fact the first Joints finisher. Almost forgot to remove my timing chip. A 3:42:19 official time was more than acceptable, due to my soreness. Mike escorted me to the refreshment area where a local radio reporter had requested an interview. I got the call, being the first finisher. I spoke to him for about 3 minutes while he shoved the microphone into my face. Then I grabbed more Ultima, bananas, bagels and cookies!

Shower and Celebration

Then I limped back to the hotel to join the others at our Celebration Party on the 15th floor at Josephine’s. A nice buffet and DJ kept smiles on our faces as many of the GA and NY chapters took control of the dance floor for a bunch of 70’s music. Ten of us followed that with a hotel shuttle ride to Koot’s for a live band until we were wiped out.

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Shooting for a PR
As is always the case when chasing a particular goal time, weather would be a huge factor in achieving my goal of a PR and reaching my ultimate goal of a sub-3:10 marathon.  Saturday was dark and dreary, with a cold wind that would not be fun to run against. I wasn’t pleased with the crowded tent and long line to confirm race chip functionality.

After the Expo and a visit to church (to pray for good weathe), I stopped into a diner for my pre-race dinner. The Kentucky Derby started on a large screen TV just moments after I was seated. Got to see the thrill of victory for “Big Brown” and agony of defeat at the same time as “Eight Belles” had to be euthanized just after finishing. That was pretty ominous and certainly not something you want to see the day before a race.  Final boost of adrenelin for the day was watching a hockey playoff game.

I felt like hot stuff staying with the 3:10 people. The funny thing is that for a small marathon, I was with this pack for miles and miles, and had to be very careful not to bump others at all of the turns and even looking for ruts in the road. Combination of neighborhood streets with main streets through towns. Decent spectators. Not much music. Little chatter in our group.

Blood on the pavement
One piece of early excitement is when one of the big guys took a tumble. He got up so quickly that it was almost a half mile later that blood started dripping from his shoulder and elbows. Of course he said he was fine, and he eventually dropped our group in favor of more wide-open space.

The 2 loop course made the halfway point interesting, with crowds of spectators cheering on the half-marathoners as they finished up on the boardwalk. I had thought that suddenly losing 2/3 of the runners would be a strange experience, but since I was still with the group, there was barely any difference. Water stops remained a challenge since we were so tightly packed. The only sense that we were more “alone” was observing the many throwaway shirts that lined both sides of the road in what had been miles 1-3.

Tragedy in the pack
Things were going well and Matt was doing a fine job of maintaining even pace, sometimes slowing after milemarkers to keep us from putting too much in the bank. But suddenly, just after mile 16, tragedy struck. Matt bailed out, saying he had a problem and was sorry. Since he pulled up “lame”, we quickly and mercifully euthanized him and continued on our way.  But of course, the same two words were racing through each of our 20 or so minds, “Oh S***!”. This is not something you plan for during 3 months of training. We were filled with panic and nominated a guy in an orange shirt to “be our leader”. He immediately replied that it was just coincidence that he was wearing the same shade of orange as Matt. That didn’t console us a bit, so we then turned to a purple-wearing TNT runner who had run with us the whole way and seemed to have many supporters along the route. He wasn’t enthusiastic about taking over. Our elder member (wearing a 50-stater shirt, of course) stated that this was the best maintained pack that he’d ever been part of…

That remark turned out to be the kiss of death. After a mile of staying together (and predictably picking up the pace in our panic) we started to disintegrate. I started dropping back, afraid that they were moving too fast. Between miles 17 and 18 we got strung out and our proud pack ceased to exist. At mile 20, I still felt I had a shot at 3:10, but I was also starting to lose my stride. Pretty soon I was alone. Luckily, we were now passing walking participants and there were also a few places where runners were coming down the street in the opposite direction. By mile 24, I realized that not only was 3:10 now out of the question, but it would take a serious effort to break my 3:14:02 PR.  Near panic…

NJ Marathon finish

Home Stretch
A final stretch of boardwalk (mostly concrete) begins around mile 25 and I knew that my legs would be OK as long as I remained positive. With the thrill of a cheering crowd and snaking my way past more of the walkers, I found a decent kick at the end and heard my name announced as I crossed under the finish banner with 3:13:15 on my watch. The sun was starting to come out and I was overjoyed!

It was only the following day after results were eventually posted online that I was shocked to learn that I had won an award for placing 2nd in my age group (M45-49) out of 138.

Patriots Day 4/17/06: 110th Boston Marathon

Hopkinton – starting area
I walked the .7 miles up to the crowded athletes’ village to grab a bagel, Gatorade (like I really needed more of that), and a couple Power Bars. Potty stops on the way up and on the way back! By the time I got back to the bus, it was pretty cold, with dark clouds and blustery winds. But when the sun came out from behind the clouds, it warmed up quickly. Weather conditions became the major topic of conversation on and around the bus, as we tried to decide what to wear for the race. At least it took our minds off of the Newton Hills!

Delaware Sports Club bus

More trips across the street to the big Porta-Potty filled parking lot helped me finalize plans to wear my singlet and gloves. This turned out to be a good decision, as some people were warm in long sleeve shirts. As the time clicked closer to 11:30, I sat in the bus chewing a Power Bar (Cookies & Cream), sipping Gatorade, taking one Advil, and downing a 2 ounce bottle of “5-hour Energy” (8333% vitamin B12, 2000% vitamin B6).

Final gear check (2 Power Gels and plenty of tissues in my Race Ready shorts), photos, and of course, that final trip to the potty! I arrived in my corral at 11:45, wearing lucky bib #7774.  The National Anthem was  funny, with the singer and the mighty Hopkinton HS band totally out of sync with each other. But a fly-by of 2 fighter jets re-instilled our feeling of pride.

Everyone knows that the key to Boston is to not go out too quickly on the initial several miles of downhill. My pace was controlled as I tried to keep it a reasonable amount under 8:00 per mile. It was cool, but the morning wind had died down and the remaining cloud cover shielded us from the midday sun. I did the usual high-fiving of kids and sometimes a wave to acknowledge the many men, women and children who called out my name. If you ask me, wearing your name on your shirt is worth at least a few minutes of your final time from the constant support from the crowd.

Good pace!
By the halfway split, I was pleased to be right on target (1:37:38 chip time) and feeling good. From that point on, things actually went better than expected, starting with the Wellesley girls sounding evenlouder than last year. After getting a whole lotta love there (slapping about 200 hands), I braced myself for the Newton Hills.

Ray runs Boston

Taking a Power Gel at mile 14 was a good idea, and getting a few gulps of Gatorade at each station helped my legs feel strong through the hills. By the time I crested Heartbreak, I was optimistic about shooting for 3:30, my goal for the past year. It only took the first 100 yards of downhill near mile 21 for me to smile. I still had legs! In 2005, this was the point where I found my legs to be stiff, preventing me from maintaining proper form. Then, I could only finish. this time, I could run!

Victory lap?
With the Citgo sign in my rear view mirror, the home stretch on Boylston Street was triumphant! The walk back to the bus was more enjoyable than last year.  Yogurt drink, chips, banana, water, energy bar, and finally a beer from the bus cooler. Yeah! Congratulate and be congratulated. Stretch, walk, sit. It had been warm and sunny at the finish, but the bus seemed to be parked in the coolest, windiest spot in town.

Marathon Man

The next day, I knew that I’d want to grab a Wilmington News Journal on the way home from the airport, but I was totally shocked to see myself front-and-center in an AP photo on the front page of the Sports section!

Good sleep, but I’m awake at 4:30am before rising at 6. A light “power breakfast”  was followed by stretching and suiting up. At 7:30, Team Delaware departed the lobby for the one mile walk to the starting area near Merrion Square. It was cool (40’s?) but no rain and no wind. Thank you God! I deposited my numbered bag in the staging area, made a potty stop and headed to the start near Trinity College. The atmosphere was tense, but festive. Ten minutes before the 9am start, runners started peeling off outer shirts and throwing them to the sides of the street.

Joints in Motion team before race

I ran most of the first 7 miles with Mark from Belfast and a guy from NYC who were also aiming for a 4 hour finish time. Our pace was a little faster than I had planned, but maybe the cold weather would keep me strong. I was comfortable in my Joints in Motion jacket. We received great encouragement from onlookers all along the course. Applause and shouts of “You’re doing great!” and “Well done!” filled the air. Kids wanted high fives, and I obliged. At one point, the crowd was so close on both sides that runners had to run single file. Water stops were every 3 miles.

 My magic gloves were on and off, since the bottled water was spilling on my fingers. Around mile 9 it was time to chow down on a granola bar. I was feeling pretty good, drinking plenty, with no leg problems. The course wound through residential areas, with smiling spectators standing in their yards or in larger groups at street corners. I was encouraged that my 13.1 mile split time of 1:48 was virtually the same as I had done in the Philly Distance Run in September.

Ray grabs fuel at mile 18.

Strong Pace
My form was decent and the spectators definitely helped push me along. My only stop so far was to walk while drinking Lucozade from a cup. Duncan greeted me before mile 18 and I gave him my jacket. It was time to get serious! My roommate Chris handed off a Power Bar and Gel. The vanilla gel was the first to be consumed, while I held a water bottle in my other hand. We entered Phoenix Park around mile 20 and immediately faced a long, steady uphill climb. It felt like a death march. I started walking about a third of the way up to eat the chewy Power Bar and I kept walking (and chewing) a little longer than I would have liked. Now I was a little nervous, since we were approaching mile 21, the longest distance I had run in training. Everything beyond that point was going to be a new experience. After passing a few trees I liked, I finally chose one to relieve my bladder.

Through The Wall
I think instead of “hitting the wall”, we hit “the park”. It just kept going and going and going. Yes, there were spectators at various points, but the path kept winding through the same scenery. I laughed about carrying my Power Bar wrapper and water bottle the whole way through the park since there wasn’t a single waste basket along the way to deposit them into.  I thought about taking another walk break, but told myself to keep on trucking. From this point on, onlookers tried to cheer us by saying “It’s all downhill from here!”, so every slight upgrade from that point seemed like a cruel joke.

Road to Glory
Surviving the park gave me a lift. At around mile 23, a radio DJ was pumping out some good music, and there was a sizeable crowd. That’s the point that I became emotional and had to fight back some tears because barring a major problem, my four hour goal was within reach. My nerves were tested since I could now feel soreness in my feet and a tingle in my legs every few strides or so. I prayed for God’s mercy to finish the race and felt sad for guys I noticed who were stopped or limping in the final miles due to injury. They were so close to the finish! As I ran past the Gresham Hotel, there was just one mile to go.

800 M
The crowds lining both sides of the street grew larger as we approached Trinity College. There were barricades up once I saw a sign for “800 Meters” to the finish. But  my mind wasn’t working well enough to figure out exactly how far 800 meters really was. One lap? Two laps? A man on a bike came alongside to encourage me. I could feel the energy from the crowd. Once I reached the final turn, there were just 100 yards to go and I started any vestige of a sprint that I still had in me. I couldn’t smile. I couldn’t acknowledge the crowd. I could only run.

Victory
The clock showed 3 hours 50 minutes! As I crossed the line with my arms in the air, a voice announced “Ray Christensen from Wilmington, Delaware…I think it’s Wilmington.” I walked into the chute where my time chip was removed. A few feet further, someone draped a foil blanket over my shoulders and finally I was handed a bag containing my “finisher” T-shirt and plaque. (No medals in Dublin.) I was filled with pride, but felt alone among thousands of people. A personal victory.

Leaving the “chute” area, I picked up the bag I had left earlier (containing my old camera and a sweatshirt), enjoyed a cold cup of orange Lucozade, passed up the line for massages and wandered to the side of the crowded street to stretch and ask a man to take a picture of me.  Still wrapped in my foil blanket, I grabbed a banana. Too bad what I really craved was a bagel!

Another 15 minutes went by as I decided against getting on a bus back to the hotel in favor of waiting for teammates. I was happy to see Scott and he was happy to see the bananas! A little later, Jane appeared. Jane was very happy to see the potato chips! Ninety minutes after I crossed the line, I boarded a bus back to the hotel. That evening, I’d be dancing at our Arthritis Foundation celebration party at a local club!