Photos of NYC Runs Brookln Half Marathon Oct 20 2018

Cheers to ALL!

NYC Runs - Brooklyn Half Marathon, Saturday, October 20, 2018: Recap

INTRODUCTION - 

The posters for the race stated that it starts at 7:00 a.m. But, the preparations to build up the body of a 55 year old, heavy set, male takes weeks to accomplish. Typically, during the "off" running season, the most I'll run in the morning before heading to work ranges between 3 to 5 miles, at a very leisurely pace. I rotate the sneakers that I wear, between Mizuno, Brooks and Saucony. I am in need to replace all three pairs as their other rear right heels are completely worn out. I tapered off, in other words, the last long run before the Saturday event was on Wednesday was about 8 miles.

In the past few weeks, the weather has cooperated and allowed me to run as much as I had planned. I have the flexibility of many possible running routes, to either towards Rockville Centre, Freeport, Oceanside, Baldwin Harbor. In past years, I used to run towards the Long Beach boardwalk, but I capped the running distance to 10 miles of a possible 13 miles to complete the Half Marathon. I figured that the adrenaline and the excitement of the spectators would push me to the Finish Line.

A few weeks back, the right knee was bothering, but like always, I ignore the pain, or switch sneakers, and the pain disappears. Sometimes I wonder if the knee pain is related to cycling, or some work shoes that are oddly shaped. Then days before the actual Half Marathon, I began to "feel" body aches and the initial symptoms of a sniffles. Afternoon power naps were the solution to this self imposed stress.

Two days before the event, I made the huge mistake of driving to the Fulton Street Business District to pick up the race bib. What a big mistake! I was mentally rattled by the traffic lights, the stops, the pedestrians and the general chaos, that for a brief moment I couldn't remember where I parked the car, and then panic began to take over. I retraced my steps, walking past Junior's Cheesecake Restaurant, and an entrance to the Long Island University campus, and a hospital. The drive back from Brooklyn heading home was another long, patience-testing endeavor. More traffic, this time, rush hour traffic. Everyone's rushing, but no one is physically moving. I told myself that this is the last time I am driving these crazy distances to simply pick up a bib. Same day race bib pick up option was not available, however, the mail-in option was and I didn't partake in it. Next time.

DAY OF RACE - 

In the past few months, as I am getting older, I wake up now anywhere between 3:30 and 4:30 a.m., with no desire to go back to snooze. On Saturday of the race, I woke up at 4:00 a.m. Today I was going to experiment running "dry", like a camel, expecting that my fat body would find its own way to take care of this adversity. This meant, no coffee or swigs of water before the race. While driving to Brooklyn along the Sunrise Highway to the Belt Parking, I ate one slice of whole wheat bread, peanut butter and a dab of jelly. Drizzling rain was falling up to the start of the race. This was great news, as I didn't want to run with an extra layer of running apparel, i.e. a rain jacket. Last May, I also ran in the rain the Brooklyn Half Marathon from Prospect Park to the Coney Island boardwalk. 

Driving to Brooklyn from Baldwin on a Saturday morning at 5:00 a.m. didn't entail dealing with the same road clogging traffic as Thursday, when I picked up the race bib. I reached the destination in less than one hour and found free, street parking on Bedford Avenue and Maple Street. I sent myself a text to remember the location of where I parked the car, as everything looks different from 6:00 a.m. to later in the day. I followed a young couple of runners, who were heading to the Start Line, in front of the Brooklyn Public Library, with the yellow sculpture with the word "Yo". This race was organized by NYC Runs, and not the Rock and Roll organization, who set it up last year. The route was the same with minor adjustments, which were better for the runners to navigate to and from Ocean Parkway. 

While I was running, I was very appreciative of all the volunteers and spectators along the way. And I felt bad for the motorists who were inconvenienced by our little event. I couldn't stop to wonder how much this type of event costs the organizers and the logistics involved to organize something that closes so many streets, requiring the assistance of law enforcement and temporary barricades.

My friend Bob Murphy and I had agreed months ago to run this event, regardless of what shape or condition we were in. Actually, I was motivated to break both, the mental and physical barrier, of accomplishing this distance, once I knew that he had participated in one Half Marathon. Before that, I participated in many 5 Ks and 10 Ks. I found Half Marathons mentally challenging, in ways of how to conserve and distribute energy to last this distance at an even keel. One must not drink too much water to be looking and waiting to find a portable toilet, and one must not drink too little that the body begins to overheat like a car without antifreeze in the radiator. One must find the right balance. All of this unfortunately is by trial and error, as no book is specifically written for one's body. 

For me, the first 6 to 9 miles is just a warm up. The actual grunt work begins when the body begins to tire and one is looking for the mile markers to be spaced closer to the Finish Line. Obviously, that will never happen. One must pay the dues, step by step, stride after stride. As the body's strength begins to weaken and fall apart, one begins to see runners pass by. On the inside I am screaming at them to stop and wait for me. How selfish of me!

The grunt work becomes more laborious once the hills inside Prospect Park, before the Finish Line, announce their presence. There is when the breathing is faster and one must stop to catch a breather. On the side of one eye, I jealously watch as runners pass by, one by one, having a good time while I am deaf to the cheering of total strangers on the sides. I drink combinations of water and Gatorade handed out by the happy volunteers. I begin to question my sanity, or insanity for that, as to why at 55 years of age I punish the body with this slow torture. I quickly answer myself - 'cause I need a challenge and I need to prove myself that I can still do this, albeit, slower than previous ones. At this point, I wasn't going to let Father Time tell me anything. I was going to finish whenever I felt like it. Ha! 

I guzzled any liquid handed out past the Finish Line, and ate some ripe bananas. Bob Murphy called me one mile before the Finish Line, and asked me to photograph him. I saw an ambulance head out into the field of runners, and I thought that Bob's knee literally snapped and had to be picked up. I waited a little more to make sure that I was incorrect about the purpose of the ambulance heading out there. There was Bob Murphy, crossing the Finish Line, looking cool, calm and collect. Our finish times? Ha, let's just say we finished.

We walked with our heavy medals around our necks like some type of street warriors, when everyone else around us had the same pendants. And those people who didn't, probably said - so what, or, who cares? 

Like two old farts, we sat in a park bench, talking about everything and nothing about the actual Half Marathon. That doesn't make sense, but then again, why are we doing this to make our selves age 10 years in two hours?

Never again becomes the mantra while doing these Half Marathons, for only minutes later ask the same question: Okay, when's the next one?

Written by Dirk Wojtczack, Wednesday, October 24th, 2018, Baldwin, New York

Poem

The elements, life, struggle, friction, adversity.

Perseverance, determination, fearlessness, carelessness.

I am in the ship of life, navigating, and the wind calls my name and I feel the current.

I am no one you haven't met before, nor said something you haven't heard before.

I am signature of the time on this planet cast since 1963 and still ticking.

My ailments aren't something new from those felt by others.

I tend to move on without second guesses or regrets. 

I'm ready for the consequences of any errant decisions.

The road is full of forks, choices, options. I am one too.

Inspiration. 

(Dirk Wojtczack, Monday evening, October 08, 2018)