THANKS DAD, WISH YOU WERE HERE
I ran my second half marathon on Father’s Day, the 2015 NYCRUNS FATHER’S DAY HALF MARATHON. The scenic course was up and down the southern edge of Brooklyn under the Verrazano Bridge with breathtaking views of Manhattan. A week before the race I was still nursing a tender Achilles tendon that interrupted the end of my training, that said I woke up strong and ready to race.
Tropical Storm Bill passed overhead minutes before the starting pistol fired, leaving behind 93% humidity. Despite the mugginess I felt strong and decided to run the fastest pace I think I could sustain for 13.1 miles. I succeeded for 11 miles when without warning I began to feel light-headed.
Knowing the signs of heat exhaustion, I quickly glanced at my GPS watch to calculate how many more miles I had left to run but I found I couldn’t perform this simple task. 13 minus 11 equals ??? I was having difficulty performing the simplest math in my head. Checking off another heat exhaustion symptom I knew I needed to make a change fast. Deciding walking was not an option I added a minute to my running pace. Remaining light-headed it was longest two miles I ever ran.
The finish line now clearly in the distance, my legs still kicking hard, and gas still left in the tank; I decided to sprint the last quarter of a mile dashing by one…two…three runners all half my age. (That was my favorite part of the day.) Crossing the finish line I heard my son shout, “Dad, you broke your record!”
On the other side of the finish line paramedics crossed in front of me carrying a young twenty-something runner on a stretcher. She collapsed from heat exhaustion. It took 15 minutes for my own dizziness and nausea to fade.
Statistics. I beat one-third of all the runners, a ranking of 197 among a field of 312 overall finishers. There were 19 runners in my age group, I placed 9th out of 19. I broke my half marathon personal best by 2 minutes and 12 seconds. I beat my first half marathon in January by over 9 minutes!
In some of the photos I am holding up a framed photo of my father. Like many of the athletes running that day, I picked the Father’s Day Half Marathon to pay tribute to my own father. As a child I remember my Dad walking in the house at the end of every season carrying a new trophy. Bowling. Softball. And in the later years, golf. My father was a great athlete and he stayed active until the day he died. Hey Dad, thanks for the genes and the inspiration.
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