Well, after watching the New York Marathon on television for years and always feeling left out, I finally did it in November, at the age of 64 (me, 64?). Sometime during those years, I made a promise to myself that I would run one someday. Several years ago, I even sent in an entry - and when the rejection notice came, I was somewhat relieved! I told the race director Alan Steinfeld, an old Bronx friend, the rejection story at the annual track and field convention. His reply was, "Now Louise, you know that if you wanted to run, you just need to ask." I filed that piece of information.
But the story started long ago. A sprinter was all that a girl could be in the United States if she wanted to run. So, that was what I was from the age of 10 to about 26. Through the years and even now, in master's track and field competitions, I run the sprints. The 200 meters is my favorite event. Sometime in the 1980's in New York and during the summers in Brevard, I graduated to the local 5k's. They are terrific. It is wonderful to see the little kids running with the "old folks". And it's particularly fun running barefoot on the beach - training and during the races.
Sometime last year, Ann Makoske said she'd run the 2000 New York Marathon. Ah ha! this was my chance to have someone to train with at times, accompany to New York, run with in the marathon and share the fun with before and after (?) the run.
Running the marathon is another story. Training can be dangerous. With Ann acting as my coach (every time she flew in from her last Continental flight), I had the "fun" of running my first 20 miler through Cape Canaveral, Cocoa Beach, Patrick Air Force Base, across the Pineda Causeway and down Wickham road. It was the first time that I viewed the "Welcome to Melbourne" sign while I was on foot! Ann met me just before the causeway and gave me water, Gatorade, a wet towel and a back seat to sit in for 5 minutes. She then shoved me out of the car, back into the hot October sun, and took off for the next water stop, three miles away. This continued until she felt that I had enough torture - and said, "get in." We drove to her house where she revived me, gave me clothes and fed me!
For the second 20 mile run, two other friends decided that the causeway traffic was too dangerous (Ann was not here then). They suggested the Canaveral National Seashore. So, my husband drove me to Titusville and dropped me off at the Marine Patrol Station. My friends met me 2 hours later while I was still chugging towards the beach. They parked their camper at beach 6. That was the second water stop when I got there. It was a hot day and the turn-a-round was a welcome sight. While I was about 100 yards from the north side of beach 10, out walks a giant alligator - from the grassy area on the beach side! Arghhhh was my faint first thought. But assuming that "he" was just crossing the road, I slowed to a walk. As he got to the center line, his short, fat legs disappeared - yes, he laid down to sun himself across the whole lane that I was standing in. Now, about 75 yards away, I came to a complete stop. No way was I going any closer. The only thing I could do was to wait for a vehicle to come and scare him away. A few minutes later, I saw 2 vehicles approaching from behind me. They slowed, seeing both me and the gator. The first vehicle did send him back into the area between the road and the beach. The driver of the second vehicle asked me if I wanted a ride. "Yup," I said, "just to the other end of the parking lot." So I jumped into the car and he drove me 100 yards! Thanking him, I got out of the car and proceeded to complete the second 20 mile run.
The actual NYC Marathon was a lot less dangerous. I followed Ann around New York and with the aid of "celebrity elite" passes from Alan, we got to the starting line of the marathon. That was the last I saw of Ann. The cannon went off and now, this was it. I can remember a few deliberate thoughts: Ahhhh - that strong, cool breeze sure beats the boiling Florida sun; this isn't so bad, just take it easy, there are a lot of miles ahead; wow, I never saw so many people for such a long distance (and I'm in the back of the race); almost 6 hours later in Central Park a voice was saying, "if you can hear me, you can break 6 hours. I had to do that but at the same time, another body was being carried off the course (arghhhh - that close and not to finish - sad) - just take it easy until you can see the finish line - so I did - and I did finish with a "kick" in 5:53:22! I got my medal, the silver wrap and my sweats - but the hardest part was finding a cab at the same time that rigor mortis was setting into a cooling body. I finally did get a cab and got back to the hotel only to discover that my partner, Ann, got calf cramps at 20 miles and then hypothermia - but nonetheless finished in 3:56:48.
Next, the best part of the day (other than crossing the finish line) - a hot bath. Later that evening, at the awards ceremony we even danced. Aside from going gingerly down steps for 2 days, sometimes backwards, it was not all that bad. For me, everything went perfectly.
Next year? Maybe!