The Joe Nation 2007 NYC Marathon Log

It didn't make me cry, but I do need to use the bathroom.

Seriously, though, that was an outstanding account.
(I'd expect no less of you, of course.)


So when does the 2008 Marathon thread start?

With the promise of more to come!

Seventh in the Niobe crew--although our tears can't balance Joe's sweat.

Epilogue
There are times in a person's life when a week feels like a month. I've had two of those weeks recently. The week before the run, as it's become known around here, as in "I've met two other people who were in 'the run'.", that week was at least twenty days long. The nights were sleepless or filled with dreams of varying degrees of weirdness. I was as wound up as cornered cat and had to do a considerable amount of biting the inside of my mouth to keep from speaking what was left of my mind. There was no Saturday in that week.

The week after the run was different everyday. Right after the finish and the long (one mile!) walk to get your chip clipped off, get wrapped up in tin-foil (ah..nice and warm...)find your baggage truck again and then meet-up with your fanbase and family, we went to dinner.

Or rather, the group headed to the restaurant and I headed into a hot shower to discover a large roadrash burn under my right arm where my jersey must have gotten bunched up. (That stings.) I never felt a thing during the run. I inventoried everything else: no blisters (yea!, right size shoes and Thorlos sox, no knee pain (no kidding), no bloody toenails and (hmmmm) I really felt great. I walked up the hill to a fabulous dinner with my sweetie and the two best friends a guy could ever have.

My hat says it "Life is Good."

Monday, of course I went to work! What else? I had my medal in my pocket. I showed it off. When Frank down at the florists laughed when I said I was buying flowers for my sweetie because I ran right by her at the marathon and said "You didn't run the marathon." I flashed it at him. Hah!

Tuesday, I felt awful. Why is that? Adrenalin wearing off?

Wednesday, worse. Couldn't concentrate on work and, dun dun dun dun, my right knee was doing weird things, like aching on the inside and then the backside and then the knee cap. Advil for everybody.

I don't remember Thursday.

I was going to run a little on Friday but instead I slept.

My knee was killing me on Saturday, it was hard going downstairs and my head started to fill with those kind of thoughts that only real pessimist have. "that was your last run.' "Hope you like arthritis medicine' 'What color cane are you going to carry.' My inner pessimist is a bad ass. More Advil. Massage. More Advil.

Sunday comes and I kid you not------there is no pain. It's gone. Vanished. It's as if one of the ministers from one of those holy-roller congregations had come by and healed me. I had to work Sunday so right after I locked up the store I went for a little run. Just a mile, but it was the same one mile run that two years had been my first attempt at moving at more than walking speed.

Everything I've learned during this time came floating up as I passed the gates of Gramercy Park:
No more races where I am going to meet someone without taking my cellphone.
No more drinking liquids during a race just because the table seems clear.
No more starting out with the speedy racer types just to end up at the end being passed by a couple of guys in banana suits.
And, on the good side,
all of the distance, every step of those 1200 practice miles, paid off,
all of the hills brought the hills down
(What hill? What bridge?),
all of those hours made the hours feel shorter,
(what? three hours already?)
all of the visualizations made the way seem familiar
and finally, all of the uplifting confidence building pep talks I gave myself
(Man, you are so strong!) fought off all of petulant cries of my inner whiner man.
(I hardly heard from him all that day.)

Today, I went to the gym and checked on my stash of spare clothes. I got the flyer for the winter weight training program (gawd, could you have skinnier arms?) and I just laid out my running tights and sweatshirt for tomorrow's morning run at 5am.


Joe(Here we go again.)Nation

So is that it, Joe Nation? If so, thank you for a fantastic romp for almost two and a half years of vicariously watching you do this. I have nothing but total admiration for you.
A2K is cool in the sense that most of us have never met and probably won't, but thanks for the pictures and the the nice writing. I feel that I know you well. -johnboy-

What an incredible thread this is. Joe, you're an inspiration to all of us,
and I hope we all are as tenacious and determined in following our
goals - whatever they might be - as you have.

You've got my admiration any day!

Well, unless there are any questions from the audience... this is the end of this, the most admittedly egotistical thread ever on A2K.

The comments and you-go-boys from everyone were just what I needed to keep keeping on. There is nothing like knowing that a bunch of A2kers are watching to keep someone like me from stopping in the middle of Queens and shouting "Screw this!" I could probably face my friends and family (those jerks will believe anything) but you guys... never.

Really. Thank you all for your kind words and your inspirations. A big thanks to George, there's no reality check like actually running next to someone. Thanks again to Realjohnboy for being the raceday reporter, the rest of you will have to decide who gets the title of in-house statistician. (It's RxT=D)

I have discovered one other thing in the past week - not running plus eating like a horse equals a four pound gain and rising. I'm back on the road now and it's just like Roberta says --


Some of those runners are a glory to the best things about humanity, some of them are just holding up traffic.
Joe(Why am I carrying this SLOW sign?)Nation

This is some of the best narrative Ive ever read about a subject that I , admittedly, dont understand at all. Youve made me want to read more and actually care about the travails and experiences youve enjoyed.

Might I suggest that you edit the journal and publish it? Its that good.
Between you and Endymion, I feel like Im in the presence of two excellent writers (in totally different areas and styles).

Many of us, who HAVE TO write things for a living have , by watching your journal grow, and enjoyed its "real-time" sense, have learned some really important lessons on how to hone our own meager efforts.

Yes, precisely.

so I didnt screw that up too badly?

Echoing farmerman. I'm not a runner but I enjoyed the story and you made me care about the outcome. Good job!

Echoing farmerman..

adding that I don't want to have to stop hearing about your running. I do hope you'll either continue this thread, or start a 2008 thread.

more echoes.

joe, before I read your epilogue I noticed that the forward knee in your finish photo looked huge. I couldn't decide if it was a photo artifact because that knee was closer to the camera or if your knee was as swollen as it looked in that picture.

If so, it musta hurt like hell and I can't believe you were able to keep running with it so swollen. I'm amazed!

I was curious, Joe, why your official time was about 5 minutes faster than your chip time. Did they give you credit for the traffic jam at the start where you might have had trouble finding a place to put your feet? Did they give you credit for time served in the port-a-john line?

"Second-Day-Syndrome" persists beyond the second day after a
marathon, it seems. I was glad to see that little bar on your
RunningAhead graph. Ease back into it.

Joe (well done Bloke) Nation

just reread and noticed you mentioning your right knee. The forward knee in your finish photo would be the other one -- nemmind, must be a photo artifact. That, or they were both swollen :wink:

Here's another angle. No huge kneeness, just a wobble in the "proof" photos I'm using. Brightroom.com (a really amazing company) sells, and I am buying, a number of high quality photos from the race, some of the ones I've lifted have an obvious depth of field problem. (so people don't lift them.)

The time shown on the big board is the time since the canon went off. My official time is calculated from the time my chip hits the start line to the time it hits the finish mat. All the way through the run you look at the clocks at each mile marker, but you really pay attention to the time on your watch.

Joe(It felt more like fifteen minutes to get to the start line)Nation

That's a great picture - you should frame it!