Crazy Running Life

The Crazy Life of a Runner

As I write this, I’m in-flight from NYC to Los Angeles for a conference. And since the in-flight entertainment system is down and I don’t feel like watching the only two movies I have on my laptop for the 1,000th time (The Godfather 1 and 2 for the record), I think I’ll take this time to reflect on something I’ve been thinking about for a while.

That is, the crazy lives we lead as runners.

I obviously see this through the lens of NYC runners since that’s the only place I’ve ever lived where I am consistently running.

Racing with the NYRR

I’m not just talking about training or casual running, or just your average group run. I’m talking about racing. And I guess, as I think about it, I’m talking about racing with what I think might be the largest running organization in the country, if not the world, the New York Road Runners. In case you’re living under a rock, this is the org that puts on the New York City Marathon – the largest marathon in the world.

If you’re not a local, you need to know that the NYRR puts on races almost every week of the year. They direct 50 races a year from a one miler down 5th Avenue to a handful of 5Ks, 4 and 5 milers, 10ks, a 15k, some 13.1s and the granddaddy 26.2.

The overwhelming majority of these races take place in Central Park. Which is great because – as the name infers, it’s a pretty central location if you live in NYC (if you’re in the suburbs, not so much).

But the org also hosts races in what we call the outer boroughs (Queens, Bronx, Staten Island, and the bastion of cool – Brooklyn).

It’s that last race that made me think of this topic.

The Brooklyn Half

The Brooklyn Half is one of my all-time favorite races. Check out my video from last year’s race to see what it’s like from the inside.

Go ahead, I’ll wait.

The race is held in April and the weather has historically been pretty muggy or threatening rain, so conditions are never optimal in that runners don’t really have time to acclimate to the weather. But this year it was all out raining. It started raining the night before the race and didn’t let up until that afternoon.

Coincidently, the days before and after were sunny with next to no humidity as if to point out that we’re nuts for running.

But let me get to the point, to do this, here is my schedule leading up to, during and after the race.

Friday night

7PM – pull out running gear making sure that I don’t need to scramble the next morning and wake up everyone in the apartment because I can’t find something;

7:30PM – make and devour as much pasta as I can consume. Because, I mean, why else do you run?

9PM – head to bed after setting three alarms that I’m worried I’ll sleep through;

Race Day

12AM – wake up because I have to pee;

2AM – wake up again and try to hold it in and go back to sleep;

2:15AM – get out of bed to pee;

3:45AM – wake up because I have to pee;

3:55AM – still awake from the last pee run, I decide it’s not worth going back to sleep since the first alarm is set to go off in 35 minutes;

4AM – tiptoe into the kitchen for hot tea, oatmeal and the first Tweet of the day about the race (because, why else do you run?);

4:15AM – dress and double check I have more than enough of everything I need before I walk out the door;

4:30AM – walk to the subway and realize half way there I’ve forgotten something imperative to the day, so I run back, get it and then run to the subway in order to make the train that will get me there on time;

5:45AM – arrive at race start, check my bag, and since it’s pouring rain and I don’t want to get soaked and freeze before I have to, head back down to the subway station to wait out either the rain or the start of the race;

And it’s just GLAMOROUS waiting in the subway for almost an hour. See?

6:30AM – trudge through security (thank a lot Boston bombing dickheads);

6:45AM – get to corral and do a little dance to keep from freezing in the rain;

7AM – gun goes off and we run through the, at times torrential rain from Prospect Park to Coney Island;

~9AM or so – cross finish line and join the herd on a slow march to get a medal, a recovery bag (some pretzels, electrolyte drink and maybe an apple and water too, I can’t remember) and on to baggage;

9:15AM – wait in a colossal shit show at baggage pick up where’s it’s just chaos (and continual torrential rain) – no line, no structure, just people holding up their bibs and yelling out their numbers hoping the poor volunteers who are working there will help them out;

9:28AM – volunteer sees me shivering and takes pity on me (‘m still about three deep away from the front), looks at my bib number, disappears inside the truck and seconds later magically appears with my bag;

9:29AM – make my way to the subway forgoing the traditional celebratory hotdog at the original Nathan’s hotdog stand due to the ongoing rain and the fact that I’m close to hyper thermic;

9:35AM – spy a Dunkin’ Donuts and get in 20-minute line in order to get a hot tea;

9:50AM – finally make my way to the train to take me home. Thankfully I’m on early enough so I get a seat;

11:15AM – walk into my apartment, throw my wet running gear in a heap on the floor of the bathroom and crank the hot water in the shower for the next 20 minutes;

11:40AM – with my wife and son out, I climb into bed for a quick nap;

1PM – awake with a start noting that I’m starving and pad into the kitchen to eat everything in sight;

1:30PM – satiated from my gorge-fest, I look out the window and notice the rain has stopped and then sun is out.

And I ask myself if I’d do it again.

Without a moment’s hesitation I say out loud . . .in a heartbeat.

Now I ask you, are we a crazy breed?