If someone told me a year ago that I would run in the New York City Half Marathon, I would laugh in their face. Only one year ago, I was dealing with shin splints from just running in 5K races. Somewhere in between then and now, I grew hungrier to run even further and didn’t think it was completely out of the question for me to run 13.1 miles. On Sunday, March 16, I proved to myself that I could.
Running has become such a habit that it began to feel like the dance practices I went to as a kid, and this was just like another dance competition. Therefore, I needed to have pretty hair that was sprayed down with glitter.
The first two miles of the race weren’t bad. Mentally, I labeled it as my warmup.
Somewhere by Grand Army Plaza, about two and a half miles into the route, I saw my roommate Natalie and her boyfriend Irving running up to where other spectators were standing, holding signs and bells for when I ran by. I’m sure I was sweaty and gross, but that was the best hug that girl had ever given me.
After that, going up Atlantic Avenue through Brooklyn, New York, had me smiling. The crowds had rowdy signs; they were loud and wired, and on a personal note, it was part of the area where I went to high school. It was a nice reprieve for my legs to be going downhill a bit, and it was nice to see the area where I spent some of my teenage years. It was like the clock reversed for a moment.
The rose-tinted glasses came off when we got to the Brooklyn Bridge. I did not prepare as much as I should have been for that incline. “Get to the top, and then, it’ll go back down,” was the kosher version of what I was saying.
After that was the Franklin Delano Roosevelt East River Drive. I thought I was going to coast from Seaport to the United Nations. I was wrong – that was probably the most miserable section of the race. Thankfully, I had some family friends around the seven-and-a-half mark.
All the runners I spoke to said the 42nd Street section is immaculate because of the crowds and their energy – an understatement of the year. I wish I turned off my headphones and rode on that wave of energy – it would have been enough.
I saw one of my best friends right on the turn from 42nd Street to 7th Avenue, where I ran through Times Square. That was probably the only time this New Yorker was happily going through that tourist zone. Somewhere in there, I hit my runners high – all the pain I felt in my muscles vanished. I was smiling ear to ear, taking in how much I was running through my city, my home.
At 7th Avenue and 58th Street, I got to my last group of friends; I don’t know if they saw me, but I cried. These were the first people to find out that I got into this race, so they’d been cheering me on long before the day started. Because of them, I found a little more fight left in me.
Lastly, the course took us along 59th Street before entering Central Park; I was almost home free. That last mile sucked, as I didn’t properly gauge how hilly Central Park was. I pushed. I cursed like a sailor in both English and Russian, but I pushed.
In the last few hundred meters, I saw a runner walking to the finish and I urged her to not give up. In part, I was reminding myself, but I also knew that if the positions were reversed, I’d want someone to push me when I doubted myself. She instantly said, “Oh my gosh, thank you for pushing me. I’m sticking with you to the finish,” and we helped push each other to the bitter end. Truly, it’s not just about the journey, but the friends you make along the way.
And a final thank you to everyone who has supported me from day one. I ran on your shoulders, on your endless support in this stretch of my life. I might have done the legwork for those 13 miles, but you guys did plenty of heavy lifting with me the last four months, and I’m not sure if I would have been able to cross that finish line without you all.
That being said, when I got my metal cover and recovery bag and walked a mile to my parents, the first thing I told them was “I should have gone to therapy.”
Too late now, as I’m slated to run the RBC Brooklyn Half the day before graduation in May.
