THE SUNNY-SIDE UP RUNNER
It was a sunny Sunday. The temperature was 63 degrees. A great day for a walk in the park. A not-so-great day for running. I was warming-up, along with 500 other runners, on the Shore Road Park Pier. It was my 6th Half Marathon. It was also my first race since my injury. The sun already looked intimidating. I slipped on my sunglasses. I made no plans to break a record today. My race goal was a simple one. Get. Over. The. Finish. Line.
The 2017 NYCRUNS Narrows Half Marathon runs along the southern edge of Brooklyn. There was not a single cloud in the sky, just a big yellow sun that grew larger and larger with every mile I ran.
Knowing the effects of heat on a runner accumulates over the course of a race, I decided on a very conservative racing pace. Just 45 seconds faster (per mile) than my training pace. And for the first 9 miles I successfully kept a disciplined even pace.
Every 2 miles there are fuel stations. Occasionally a runner skips one. On a hot day every fuel station is an essential stop. I made sure I drank enough, that said, regulating my body temperature was still difficult. Around Mile 9, I began to feel a little light-headed. I noticed I was slowing down. I needed something to keep me inspired. I needed something to keep me focused. A short time later that “something” arrived.
At Mile 10, a young runner passed me by. This would not be an unusual occurrence except this particular runner was wearing a shirt with a message handwritten on the back. It read: RAMADAN RUNNER. I AM FASTING. I think I found my inspiration.
I told myself I was not going to let a runner who was “running on empty” beat me in a race. It was silly but it gave me something to focus on. Quickly I pulled up behind the Ramadan Runner, matched his pace, and hung on for the next mile.
Peering out into the distance I was surprised to see a runner topple over. She accidentally stepped into a pothole and twisted an ankle. Quickly I looked down. Below me the once smooth road was now littered with potholes. Hundreds of craters as far as the eye can see. I then glanced up and discovered the Ramadan Runner was pulling away from me!
“No way!” I asserted.
Rapidly I sped up trying to catch him. I stared ahead, focused, determined, running as hard as I could when suddenly I lost my footing. My right ankle was twisted, hanging on the edge of a nasty pothole! Quickly I gained my balance before any damage was done. I was lucky. I was still running!
I needed to concentrate on the road.
The Ramadan Runner, outpacing me on an empty stomach, disappeared over the horizon. I felt humiliated but at that moment I had bigger things to worry about, like more potholes ahead.
Around the next bend the road was smooth again. I could now see the Verrazano Bridge far in the distance. I began to concentrate on the homestretch. I reminded myself that I was strong, healthy and prepared to run 13.1 miles today.
I did a mental check list. My core was engaged. Check. My hips loose. Check. Back and neck straight. Check.
I ignored the heat fatigue. I ignored the pain. I let my training take over for the remaining miles. After I ran under the Verrazano Bridge, I relaxed a little. I took in the scenery. The view of lower Manhattan, across the river, was breathtaking.
At Mile 12, the finish line was still too far away to see but I did see something that got me excited. I was once again closing-in on the Ramadan Runner! He was now fading fast and I was still running strong. Zoom. I easily passed him by.
The final mile was a killer, but my pace stayed steady, my running smooth. On my right I saw friends rattling cow bells and yelling my name. In the distance I saw a couple of runners and the finish line. I told myself, “it’s time to put on a show.” Which I did.
I was now doing a sprint! Pass one runner. Pass two runners. Crossing the finish line never gets old. I placed 232 out of the 430 runners who finished that day.
And, this time, I landed sunny-side up.
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