Saturday, October 29, 2011

NYC Marathon spectatorship

One week from tomorrow!  I can barely contain myself.  

I've had more people say they'll come support me than I know what to do with.  I'm not used to it.  Only twice have I had supporters in the crowd since high school -- Nathan at miles 5 and 13 of the NYC 1/2 Marathon last March, and my family at mile 28 of the TNF KC 50k last August.  But my history of spectators is a little odd.  You'd think with a dance background I'd be used to it.  For whatever reason I was the high school kid with paranoia at being watched.  I was okay with my parents/family coming to watch, but I didn't want to know where they were sitting.  Apparently I've been this way since toddlerhood when I'd stop dancing like a maniac to Fraggle Rock the moment I realized my mom was watching.  I have a rather tenacious superego, so maybe it was too much to have others watching at the same time.  I also know that during high school I enjoyed running track but became extremely tired with the pressure of competition.  

Gladly, recreational running is completely different.  I am no longer paranoid, and my running is dictated by the "old ladies."  Yet I'm still not used to people wanting to camp out for my sake.  So when school friends ask me where they should post themselves, I get a little stumped.  

Thus, I've collected info from and added my own thoughts related to the NYRR website's Spectator Guide.  Most friends of mine live in Brooklyn, which is the first third or so of the race.  Typically, the halfway point (mile 13.1) is when a runner can start to predict what may or may not unravel their race, and mile 20 starts the epic, and painful, final push.  I usually watch from mile 21 just on the Harlem side of the 138th St. bridge from the Bronx, partly for the convenience, but partly because that's when the elite race becomes interesting.

This map is the official NYRR course map, which includes all mileage markers and nearby subway stop info.  For a downloadable/printable PDF version of it, go to the course info page, then look on the right beneath the photo.

You can follow runners and hopefully better predict when they'll land at various mile markers with a smartphone/iPhone using the Mobile Spectator App ($2.99 from iTunes App Store or Android Market, available October 28).  Follow by computer using TrackMyRunners, available race day without signing up ahead.  More info on both.

Last year my friend and I used what likely was a trial version of the iPhone app to track a runner we were mutually, Big D, following as well as two other runners I knew, L and C.  Big D, the first to arrive, came as predicted by the app.  L and C were to arrive in the next 30 and 60 minutes respectively.  I started cheering and waving my signs when the app located them on the Bronx side of the bridge, just in case it was off by a few minutes.  Minutes went by.  I alternated between focused crowd scanning and light scanning while waving signs.  No L or C in sight, despite the app claiming they would supposedly come off the bridge at any moment.  We rechecked her phone multiple times, and eventually the app showed L and C way past our location.  I missed both L and C completely, likely from the software getting overloaded with users. So, hopefully all the bugs have been worked out this year.  BUT!  Scroll down to see a chart I made of expected times so that you hopefully don't need the app.

A few more recommendations based on my personal history of spectating and running:
  • Pick your clothes as though its 20 degrees colder than actual.  You're standing around for potentially multiple hours, meaning not creating much heat.  If in the 50s I was usually happiest with thick wool socks, long sleeve shirt, wool sweater, down sweater, and a stocking cap to wear as needed.  If in the 40s I added wool long underwear.  Easier to take off layers than to add those you left at home.
  • Bring a stadium seat, the Sunday paper, or a few layers of cardboard so that if you want to sit on the sidewalk or curb then you don't freeze your butt on the cold concrete.  
  • Bring a thermos of hot tea/coffee/hot chocolate.  
  • Think about how visible you are to the runner (signage, positioning), how easily you can spot your runner (knowing their shirt/hat colors), which direction the runner is headed (are you on the corner that they are turning away from, or are you on the far side just after the turn?), and whether or not you are back lit by the sun which would hinder their recognizing you.  I will post a picture of what I plan to wear as the day nears and the weather report becomes more accurate.
  • The aforementioned Spectator Guide includes a few tips for those camping out for the morning/afternoon.  Of those meant for the sake of runners: "DON'T say 'You're almost there!' You should only use those longed-for words if you're holding the finish line tape."  Last August I told my family NOT to say "Three miles down, only 28 to go!" or "It's all downhill from here!"  My brother caught my Dad on video saying the downhill comment just as I started ascending Hospital Hill, and he was lucky I didn't hear him through my mumbling and huffing.
Lastly, a few things to note before interpreting the paced ETA chart...
  • These are the actual times you might expect me at various mileage points.  It give a range of my faster days and my slower days, so that you know the window at which to hopefully expect me.  Use the phone app or the online thingie to see how the race starts out.  For the first 8 miles you'll get info from runners crossing timing mats every 5 kilometers.  At and after 8 miles, every mile will also have a timing mat.  The course map marks miles with squares, kilometers (in sets of 5) with pentagons. 
  • I'm in Wave 1, which starts at 9:40 a.m., though I'm assuming that my corral will reach the start at 9:45 at the earliest.  It might be later.  
  • Runners from previous years describe not running much for the first few miles.  That said, initial miles may be slower depending on how the start works out with the masses.   
  • Notice on the map that the three sections of the start (blue, orange, green) take slightly different routes before converging a few miles into the race.  I am orange.  Nathan is blue.  On the long stretch of 4th Ave in Brooklyn, orange is on the west side of the street while blue and green are together on the right.  They all converge at mile 8 in downtown Brooklyn.
  • I'm shooting to average 8:00 per mile, but I still recommend staking out your vantage point with time to spare before the 7:30 ETA.
  • If I end up running most of the first 10 miles faster than 7:30 per mile pace, this is very very very bad.  Expect me to blow up half way through -- my average pace will progressively lengthen, and I'll end up with an 8:30 per mile (or likely even slower) pace by the end.  Also expect me to be in pain by the time I reach mile 20.  I'm hoping to avoid this as much as possible...
  • What am I shooting for?  An average of 8:00 per mile.  I'd like to say I am capable of controlling my excitement to start out conservative so that I work my way into full race pace.  In reality, I'll be reminding myself constantly to slow to a good cruising speed.  Harder to do than it seems.  My reasoning?  If I manage to not blow up and I have a good race day, I'd land just under the cutoff to qualify for the 2013 Boston Marathon.  Heart isn't set on it, by any means.  Would just be cool if it worked out, and my Tune-Up 18 Mile race times indicate that its possible (*knock on wood*).  Ultimately the day will go however my knees and energy and stomach dictate.
  • I WANT to stop for a hug and a high five from everyone.  But if things start to hurt, or if momentum becomes difficult, or if I've lost too much time from stopping earlier then I'll need to continue without pause.  If I feel like making the Boston cutoff is possible but I'm at risk for losing it, that will change how much I interact with friends posted along the latter half of the race.  If friends are posted at a dozen different locations along the way, I will be less inclined to keep stopping.  To stop and restart that much gets super hard after a few times.  
  • Even if I barely see you, believe me -- it helps ENORMOUSLY.  Some days the mental race is harder than the physical race, which is where these brief encounters make all the difference.  If I have to keep moving and cannot stop, you'll probably be able to read it on my facial expression.  Give me a high five with your whole heart, cause I'll need it.