New York City Runs- NYCRUNS.COM

• 
• Register early for this NYRR 4 Miler sponsored by Fitness Magazine and stay late to try check out the fitness related fair on Center Road. Separate Me ...

Hey there New Yorkers.  Are we sick of the 85F+ weather yet?  I'm ready for the fall, how about you?

This Summer has been one of many adventures, but when I think of the heat, the one race that comes to mind more than ANY, is the Wall Street Run.   When you read this, I think you will agree, this was a day that will live in racing (or NON-racing?) infamy....

This was originally posted the day after the Wall Street Run (you can read it below or just click the link below..... ENJOY!)

LINK: http://run-race.blogspot.com/2010/06/how-not-to-go-from-point-to-point-b-my.html

Yesterday, I was all set to run in the American Heart Association’s 3 Mile Wall Street Run. I was going to meet Karen downtown, who was running the race as well, and had even gotten the OK from my boss to leave a couple of hours early too.

The air conditioning in the VW wasn’t working right since the night before. The air would blow through but it was hot. I figured that perhaps I might need to take it to a garage and get it charged with Freon, but since I was in a rush to get all the way from Melville to home to drop my things and then subway it down to the race, I really had no time to get the issue resolved at that point. So, I decided to drive with the windows open. It was 94 degrees yesterday, BTW.

About an hour before I left, a storm had just assaulted its way passed our workplace. Judging by torrent of rain, high winds and lightning, I almost felt that I was in Florida at my Dad’s house. “Just great.”, I thought. “How am I going to drive with the windows down now?” However, the storm passed just as quickly as it came. And the worst was over. Or so I thought.

We had just finished up a staff meeting, and I jumped in my car and took off. As I was pulling out of the parking lot, I figured to try the AC one more time. Still no use, so I turned it off almost immediately.

As I headed down Old Bethpage until it became Manneto Hill, to get to the Northern State, I noticed a lot of traffic, and traffic lights not working. “Guess the storm made it’s mark. Good thing I missed it!” I relievingly thought.

I finally got on the Northern State. I through I was on my way. About two miles down the real-time LED overhead traffic displayed “Tree Down. Left Lane Closed at Exit 29”. I was at about Exit 35 going west at the time, and already started to see a slowdown. Not wanting to risk missing the race, I took the Route 107 N (Syosset) exit, and figured I would drive west on the Long Island Expressway

The L.I.E., as it immediately turned out, became a parking lot. Reports of a lot of people jumping off the Northern, plus accidents, and another tree down, made us come to nearly a dead halt.

And that was just the beginning.

I heard an odd noise in my car. It was coming from my dashboard. A red light was flashing on and off. I had never seen this light before. I looked at all the instrumentation, and everything seemed fine. Everything that is, except for the car temperature.

On a VW Jetta, the normal running temperature of the engine is supposed to be at 190. 190 is the half way point on the half circle that’s on my dash. Well, it was at 260, and that was all the way to the right. I needed to pull over or risk losing my engine.

Unbelievable!

I made my way over to the right shoulder, got out and popped the hood. Engine was not steaming, but I could see the antifreeze tank was not empty either. What gives? I’m no mechanic, but at this point there was no sense in playing around with things I have no clue about so I called roadside assistance to get a tow. Roadside assistance informed me that the L.I.E. was a restricted highway, and that they could not dispatch, but that they would call the police. I remembered 4 years ago, when my Honda was vandalized and nearly hotwired on the streets of Kew Gardens. I called the cops and it took them 2 hours and 40 minutes to get there. I texted Karen. She was in a meeting, and could not respond right away but when she did, and I told her what had happened, she also called to haggle with the roadside assist company.

To make matters even more interesting, I always charge my phone while I’m at the office. Except for today. My job had just given me a new Blackberry Bold only 2 days before, but not enough time for me to get a car charger for it. To top it all off, I’m one of those crazy people that waited on a pre-sales line at AT&T weeks earlier to get the iPhone 4. I did have the charger for that, but I was supposed to get THAT phone in the evening after the race.

Just my luck.

I was telling Karen to hurry up because my cell was dying, and then it died. Now I was stuck in the road with no phone. Being something of a “gadget-guru”, I stumbled across a 110 to cigarette lighter converter. Plugged it in, and then plugged the phone to it. It worked! In the meantime, I was getting pretty hot. I had my racing singlet (with race number already bobby-pinned!) underneath my polo. There was no wind, and the humidity was very high. In addition to the heat, the cars were passing me slower than a funeral’s pace, causing some motorists to lose patience and ride along the shoulder….Where my car was parked! I was on a bend in the road, but fortunately no car came to close to me.

Another car pulled up behind me. At first I thought it was an undercover. Turned out he was just another motorist who was having overheating issues as well. It had been already an hour (4:40pm) and at this point, I pretty much had abandoned the hope of attending the race. The antifreeze was no longer smoking, so I decided it was finally safe to open it’s bulbous tank, and add some more new antifreeze. I waited about 10 more minutes, and decided to see if I could start driving again, by riding the shoulder, until I could at least get off the expressway altogether.

As I approached exit 39, there was a Nassau County cop car blocking the exit. Closed.
Great. Now I would have to continue riding the shoulder to the next exit which wasn’t until Roslyn (38). The exit ramp to Willis Avenue, was jammed, primarily because of the previous exit being closed. Traffic on the LIE was still hardly moving, and with my windows rolled down I could hear people yelling and screaming. Insanely, Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” was running through my head as I heard it. I finally got off the L.I.E. just to get caught in equal traffic on the service road. I made it passed Port Washington Blvd. but as I approached Shelter Rock Road, the car started overheating again.

DAMN IT!!!

I had to get off the service, and pull over again. And this time permanently, or truly risk engine damage.

I made a right onto Shelter Rock Road, and pulled into Tiffany Circle, a private road to a gated, security-guarded, condo community. The guy at the guard shack came out, and I told him what had happened. And he was okay with me parking my car, but had me go in past the gate and around to the exit side.

At this point, I texted Karen again, and called USAA (roadside assistance) again. Apparently, they got an expected tow time of 2 hours and 50 minutes. It was already 5:30pm. And I had only gone 10 miles in 2 hours. I can run 14 miles in the same amount of time.

I get a call from Ray’s Towing Company, and tell me that they will be there in 20 minutes. I told them not to use the LIE because of the storms. They told me, “No worries sir. We’re coming from Northern Boulevard to Shelter Rock Road.” A few minutes after I hung up, I looked and Shelter Rock road was also a parking lot for as far as I could see. A jogger who took note at me looking at the traffic, ran by me and said, “I just came from there….traffic is like this….all the way to Northern Boulevard…”

I just can’t make this shit up.

The 20 minute wait for a tow, turned into a 90 minute wait. They finally showed up at 7pm. I jump onto the tow truck, where they take me to Noren’s Friendly Service in Manhasset. It was conveniently located next to the LIRR. Convenient, because the Long Island Railroad was going to be the way in which I would get home. I didn’t tow the car to Manhattan, because a) the insurance only covered up to 11 miles of towing, and was very expensive, and b) the towing company mentioned that they were not allowed to take their flatbed into Manhattan.

When I got to the station, the place was closed but there was an attendant there. I filled out some paperwork, and made sure not to forget leaving him the car keys!

It was already 7:35 when I entered the train station. I went to go buy a ticket, and noticed that all the machines were off. Then I looked around, and noticed that the station had no power. Dread began enveloping over me yet again.

I walked up to someone waiting with their daughter, and asked them about the power issue.

“Power is out all over town” she non-chalantly said.

“Trains are delayed too but one just came by here moments ago heading to NY.”

Judging by the schedule, that train would have been 10 minutes late. The next train was supposed to be at 7:46pm. So even if that were 10 minutes late, not much considering that I’ve already invested 4 hours of my life throughout this harrowing event.

7:46 came and went. 8pm came and went. At this point, my cellphone had died again. Without the car, I no longer could recharge my phone. I went to a payphone. Dead. I then remembered I had my iTouch with me (not iPhone). If I could get wifi, I could email Karen, and search for news on this power outage issue. Not to get into details, but I did find a wifi provider which required me to enter a password. Thanks to my gifted memory, I remembered a subscriber (who I used to date) and tried her password. It worked. I was elated!

The elation did not last for long. On my iTouch, I found a traffic bulletin posted at 7:49pm on the LIRR website. It said that train service on the Port Washington and Oyster Bay branches were shut down in both directions indefinitely. Now, there was a train that came at 7:45pm heading eastbound. Was that the last train?

Confusion stirred among myself and the people as we waited on the platform for a train that seemed would never show. And since there was no power, there were no official announcements to be heard overhead either.

I waited until about 8:20pm, and then I had enough. Even if it was going to cost me $150 dollars, I would find a cab to take me home. I was sweaty, hungry and tired and didn’t want anymore of this.

I walked upstairs, and looked around the town. Everything was closed and black. No lights. No power in Manhasset. People were talking on street corners about the situation. It was very eerie. I finally found a town cab and flagged him down. I asked him how much to New York, and he instead answered that for $12 dollars he could take me to the Roslyn train station, and that it was operating because it goes through Jamaica station. As I was just about to open the back door to go in, he pointed out the window to tell me that a train was coming. I turned around. He was right!

I bolted down the stairs and lunged into the train as soon as it opened. How happy was I? I figured that maybe, just maybe I could get home by around 9pm.

The doors closed, and the train took off.

And then the announcement came….

“Due to track damage from the storm, this train will make it’s last stop at Great Neck. For those of you looking to continue to NY, please exit at Great Neck where there will be buses to take you to the Bayside train station.”

Nothing in my life is ever easy, isn’t it?

As the train went about 2 miles per hour towards Great Neck, I began to think about the massive traffic jam when I was coming back last Sunday from dropping my kids off. I dropped them off at 6pm, locked myself out of my car (well that’s another story for the ages isn’t it), and when all was said ‘n’ done, I didn’t get home until after 10pm.

NOTE TO SELF: Why don’t I just move into my car?

But, I digress. The train finally pulls into Great Neck, and I, and a handful of other people, run up the stairs and exit onto Great Neck Av (I think). Across the street at the train ticket plaza were about 30 yellow school buses. We boarded the first one. I was hot as hell, and decided to sit in the back near the AC (hah).

Not to be disrespectful, but being on this bus with all these other adults, made me feel like one of “Jerry’s kids” if you know what I mean. Anywho, the bus was just sitting there. Why?

One of the people that had gotten on the bus, I had met at the Manhasset train station. He was hoping to catch the 11pm Amtrak from Penn to go to Philly. It was already 9:16pm.
The bus finally took off, but it didn’t go very fast. Why on earth go down Northern Boulevard was beyond my rationale. It is always jammed packed, especially in conditions like these. I actually started dozing off however, when a large bump woke me up.

The bus had lousy shocks, but the real shock was that this bus had long passed the Bayside train station off of Bell Blvd. In fact we were in Flushing, in Korea Town no less! I figured that perhaps the driver was taking us to the 7 train? But no, he wasn’t. In yet ANOTHER idiotic moment in my odyssey, the driver makes a right turn off of Northern onto a narrow residential street. Then he makes another right turn. “Why was this guy doubling back?”, I wondered.

By now everyone on the bus knew that this guy was totally out of his league and totally lost. One person, with a Mets hat no less, got up from his seat, while the bus was moving, and yelled at the driver. Ahhh, nothing like New York courtesy! Basically, he should have said something earlier, but now he was pretty mad, and asked if he could be let off. The bus driver did NOT oblige!!!! The passenger then threatened to break the door open at the next stop. Can you believe this shit? All I kept thinking to myself was how did I get myself into all of this? I was just trying to get home!!!

Finally the heated words amongst the passengers was replaced with some common sense. We were all frayed with tension from a trying day. Though my saga beat theirs by a long, long, way.

And it would still get EVEN better.

The bus driver turned back east (if you could imagine) to an LIRR train station called ‘Broadway’. This was a station that I never even heard of, and I imagine hardly any trains would stop. Yet, I was wrong, because a train did stop there and take off……Too bad it was as we were approaching the station. Umm. Yes. That train left before we got there.

The driver further got lost even by the train station, driving up a narrow road he had no business driving through, and breaking tree branches along the way with the top of the bus.
Finally and mercifully, he stopped the bus. We got off and fled!

As I was following the lost herd of displaced passengers across some unseethy street in Queens, I had little confidence that another train was going to come anytime soon. So, I decided to break away from the failed flock of strangers that I was with, and journeyed my way over to Northern Blvd. again. I figured this time, I would just hop on a cab and pay a lot of money to take me the rest of the way home. It was 9:45pm.

But I could not find a cab anywhere and jumped onto a city bus heading for Main Street – Flushing instead. Thank God, I bought a Metrocard the other day when I went to work at the Chrysler Building too.

I got off the bus, and made my way to the 7 train on Main & Roosevelt. It was the first stop on the line. The Mets were playing (and losing to) the Tigers at Citifield, and the game was nearly over. Time for some interaction here….Do you know what the second stop on the 7 train is? Yep, you guessed it. Citifield.

Crowds of people were streaming on the train. Normally a trying situation to be crowded in a subway full of drunk and unruly fans, right? Now image having a nearly 7 hour head start, like the one I had, and you can bet your Aunt Fanny that I was none too patient. Fortunately, I had a seat on the train. Plus, by now, I was holding my head in my hand…along with my backpack, and gym bag (which was holding all of my race stuff).

Of course, at this time of night the 7 train was making all local stops. And since I had to go to nearly the end of the line, it was over 20 stops before I got into Grand Central Station. After being exposed to all kinds of weirdos, including this one dude with an oversized skateboard, multiple nose piercings, and an ear that was pierced with an asthsma inhaler hanging off of it, I got off the train and ran as fast as I could up and out to the terminal.

It was almost 11pm, and the first order of business was to find a working payphone, which I did, and called Karen. It had been over 3 hours since she last heard from me, and based on all my negative ra-ra I’d been doling out to her, she was worried sick over me.

After I hung up, I was able to get into a taxi cab. I told the cabbie guy this whole story and blew him away. When he finally dropped me off, and I entered my building the time read 11:15pm.

It took me 7 hours and 45 minutes to travel 38 miles. Again, I could have run home faster. And who knows? Perhaps if I didn’t have two heavy bags, I might have, if someone would have told me what I was about to face when I left my office at 3:30pm.

In the end, I drove a failing car twice, took a lift on a tow truck, took one LIRR train, took two buses (one school, one city), took a subway, and took a cab ride.

This was my odyssey and I wanted to share this with everybody.

Next up will be to see how much money it’s going to cost me to get my car, which is all the way in Manhasset, to be fixed.

Next time I have a race on a weekday, I will just take the day off!

Did you enjoy this?  I actually forgot to put in one funny afterthought, and that was that all that time I still had my racing number on!

Hey there New Yorkers.  Are we sick of the 85F+ weather yet?  I'm ready for the fall, how about you? 

This Summer has been one of many adventures, but when I think of the heat, the one race that comes to mind more than ANY, is the Wall Street Run.   When you read this, I think you will agree, this was a day that will live in racing (or NON-racing?) infamy....

This was originally posted the day after the Wall Street Run..... ENJOY!
Yesterday, I was all set to run in the American Heart Association’s 3 Mile Wall Street Run. I was going to meet Karen downtown, who was running the race as well, and had even gotten the OK from my boss to leave a couple of hours early too.
The air conditioning in the VW wasn’t working right since the night before. The air would blow through but it was hot. I figured that perhaps I might need to take it to a garage and get it charged with Freon, but since I was in a rush to get all the way from Melville to home to drop my things and then subway it down to the race, I really had no time to get the issue resolved at that point. So, I decided to drive with the windows open. It was 94 degrees yesterday, BTW.
About an hour before I left, a storm had just assaulted its way passed our workplace. Judging by torrent of rain, high winds and lightning, I almost felt that I was in Florida at my Dad’s house. “Just great.”, I thought. “How am I going to drive with the windows down now?” However, the storm passed just as quickly as it came. And the worst was over. Or so I thought.
We had just finished up a staff meeting, and I jumped in my car and took off. As I was pulling out of the parking lot, I figured to try the AC one more time. Still no use, so I turned it off almost immediately.
As I headed down Old Bethpage until it became Manneto Hill, to get to the Northern State, I noticed a lot of traffic, and traffic lights not working. “Guess the storm made it’s mark. Good thing I missed it!” I relievingly thought.
I finally got on the Northern State. I through I was on my way. About two miles down the real-time LED overhead traffic displayed “Tree Down. Left Lane Closed at Exit 29”. I was at about Exit 35 going west at the time, and already started to see a slowdown. Not wanting to risk missing the race, I took the Route 107 N (Syosset) exit, and figured I would drive west on the Long Island Expressway
The L.I.E., as it immediately turned out, became a parking lot. Reports of a lot of people jumping off the Northern, plus accidents, and another tree down, made us come to nearly a dead halt.

And that was just the beginning.
I heard an odd noise in my car. It was coming from my dashboard. A red light was flashing on and off. I had never seen this light before. I looked at all the instrumentation, and everything seemed fine. Everything that is, except for the car temperature.
On a VW Jetta, the normal running temperature of the engine is supposed to be at 190. 190 is the half way point on the half circle that’s on my dash. Well, it was at 260, and that was all the way to the right. I needed to pull over or risk losing my engine.
Unbelievable!
I made my way over to the right shoulder, got out and popped the hood. Engine was not steaming, but I could see the antifreeze tank was not empty either. What gives? I’m no mechanic, but at this point there was no sense in playing around with things I have no clue about so I called roadside assistance to get a tow. Roadside assistance informed me that the L.I.E. was a restricted highway, and that they could not dispatch, but that they would call the police. I remembered 4 years ago, when my Honda was vandalized and nearly hotwired on the streets of Kew Gardens. I called the cops and it took them 2 hours and 40 minutes to get there. I texted Karen. She was in a meeting, and could not respond right away but when she did, and I told her what had happened, she also called to haggle with the roadside assist company.
To make matters even more interesting, I always charge my phone while I’m at the office. Except for today. My job had just given me a new Blackberry Bold only 2 days before, but not enough time for me to get a car charger for it. To top it all off, I’m one of those crazy people that waited on a pre-sales line at AT&T weeks earlier to get the iPhone 4. I did have the charger for that, but I was supposed to get THAT phone in the evening after the race. Just my luck.
I was telling Karen to hurry up because my cell was dying, and then it died. Now I was stuck in the road with no phone. Being something of a “gadget-guru”, I stumbled across a 110 to cigarette lighter converter. Plugged it in, and then plugged the phone to it. It worked! In the meantime, I was getting pretty hot. I had my racing singlet (with race number already bobby-pinned!) underneath my polo. There was no wind, and the humidity was very high. In addition to the heat, the cars were passing me slower than a funeral’s pace, causing some motorists to lose patience and ride along the shoulder….Where my car was parked! I was on a bend in the road, but fortunately no car came to close to me.
Another car pulled up behind me. At first I thought it was an undercover. Turned out he was just another motorist who was having overheating issues as well. It had been already an hour (4:40pm) and at this point, I pretty much had abandoned the hope of attending the race. The antifreeze was no longer smoking, so I decided it was finally safe to open it’s bulbous tank, and add some more new antifreeze. I waited about 10 more minutes, and decided to see if I could start driving again, by riding the shoulder, until I could at least get off the expressway altogether.
As I approached exit 39, there was a Nassau County cop car blocking the exit. Closed.
Great. Now I would have to continue riding the shoulder to the next exit which wasn’t until Roslyn (38). The exit ramp to Willis Avenue, was jammed, primarily because of the previous exit being closed. Traffic on the LIE was still hardly moving, and with my windows rolled down I could hear people yelling and screaming. Insanely, Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” was running through my head as I heard it. I finally got off the L.I.E. just to get caught in equal traffic on the service road. I made it passed Port Washington Blvd. but as I approached Shelter Rock Road, the car started overheating again.
DAMN IT!!!
I had to get off the service, and pull over again. And this time permanently, or truly risk engine damage.
I made a right onto Shelter Rock Road, and pulled into Tiffany Circle, a private road to a gated, security-guarded, condo community. The guy at the guard shack came out, and I told him what had happened. And he was okay with me parking my car, but had me go in past the gate and around to the exit side.
At this point, I texted Karen again, and called USAA (roadside assistance) again. Apparently, they got an expected tow time of 2 hours and 50 minutes. It was already 5:30pm. And I had only gone 10 miles in 2 hours. I can run 14 miles in the same amount of time.
I get a call from Ray’s Towing Company, and tell me that they will be there in 20 minutes. I told them not to use the LIE because of the storms. They told me, “No worries sir. We’re coming from Northern Boulevard to Shelter Rock Road.” A few minutes after I hung up, I looked and Shelter Rock road was also a parking lot for as far as I could see. A jogger who took note at me looking at the traffic, ran by me and said, “I just came from there….traffic is like this….all the way to Northern Boulevard…”
I just can’t make this shit up.
The 20 minute wait for a tow, turned into a 90 minute wait. They finally showed up at 7pm. I jump onto the tow truck, where they take me to Noren’s Friendly Service in Manhasset. It was conveniently located next to the LIRR. Convenient, because the Long Island Railroad was going to be the way in which I would get home. I didn’t tow the car to Manhattan, because a) the insurance only covered up to 11 miles of towing, and was very expensive, and b) the towing company mentioned that they were not allowed to take their flatbed into Manhattan.
When I got to the station, the place was closed but there was an attendant there. I filled out some paperwork, and made sure not to forget leaving him the car keys!
It was already 7:35 when I entered the train station. I went to go buy a ticket, and noticed that all the machines were off. Then I looked around, and noticed that the station had no power. Dread began enveloping over me yet again.
I walked up to someone waiting with their daughter, and asked them about the power issue. “Power is out all over town” she non-chalantly said. “Trains are delayed too but one just came by here moments ago heading to NY.”
Judging by the schedule, that train would have been 10 minutes late. The next train was supposed to be at 7:46pm. So even if that were 10 minutes late, not much considering that I’ve already invested 4 hours of my life throughout this harrowing event.
7:46 came and went. 8pm came and went. At this point, my cellphone had died again. Without the car, I no longer could recharge my phone. I went to a payphone. Dead. I then remembered I had my iTouch with me (not iPhone). If I could get wifi, I could email Karen, and search for news on this power outage issue. Not to get into details, but I did find a wifi provider which required me to enter a password. Thanks to my gifted memory, I remembered a subscriber (who I used to date) and tried her password. It worked. I was elated!
The elation did not last for long. On my iTouch, I found a traffic bulletin posted at 7:49pm on the LIRR website. It said that train service on the Port Washington and Oyster Bay branches were shut down in both directions indefinitely. Now, there was a train that came at 7:45pm heading eastbound. Was that the last train?
Confusion stirred among myself and the people as we waited on the platform for a train that seemed would never show. And since there was no power, there were no official announcements to be heard overhead either.
I waited until about 8:20pm, and then I had enough. Even if it was going to cost me $150 dollars, I would find a cab to take me home. I was sweaty, hungry and tired and didn’t want anymore of this.
I walked upstairs, and looked around the town. Everything was closed and black. No lights. No power in Manhasset. People were talking on street corners about the situation. It was very eerie. I finally found a town cab and flagged him down. I asked him how much to New York, and he instead answered that for $12 dollars he could take me to the Roslyn train station, and that it was operating because it goes through Jamaica station. As I was just about to open the back door to go in, he pointed out the window to tell me that a train was coming. I turned around. He was right!
I bolted down the stairs and lunged into the train as soon as it opened. How happy was I? I figured that maybe, just maybe I could get home by around 9pm.
The doors closed, and the train took off.
And then the announcement came….
“Due to track damage from the storm, this train will make it’s last stop at Great Neck. For those of you looking to continue to NY, please exit at Great Neck where there will be buses to take you to the Bayside train station.”
Nothing in my life is ever easy isn’t it.
As the train went about 2 miles per hour towards Great Neck, I began to think about the massive traffic jam when I was coming back last Sunday from dropping my kids off. I dropped them off at 6pm, locked myself out of my car (well that’s another story for the ages isn’t it), and when all was said ‘n’ done, I didn’t get home until after 10pm.
NOTE TO SELF: Why don’t I just move into my car?
But, I digress. The train finally pulls into Great Neck, and I, and a handful of other people, run up the stairs and exit onto Great Neck Av (I think). Across the street at the train ticket plaza were about 30 yellow school buses. We boarded the first one. I was hot as hell, and decided to sit in the back near the AC (hah).
Not to be disrespectful, but being on this bus with all these other adults, made me feel like one of “Jerry’s kids” if you know what I mean. Anywho, the bus was just sitting there. Why? One of the people that had gotten on the bus, I had met at the Manhasset train station. He was hoping to catch the 11pm Amtrak from Penn to go to Philly. It was already 9:16pm.
The bus finally took off, but it didn’t go very fast. Why on earth go down Northern Boulevard was beyond my rationale. It is always jammed packed, especially in conditions like these. I actually started dozing off however, when a large bump woke me up.
The bus had lousy shocks, but the real shock was that this bus had long passed the Bayside train station off of Bell Blvd. In fact we were in Flushing, in Korea Town no less! I figured that perhaps the driver was taking us to the 7 train? But no, he wasn’t. In yet ANOTHER idiotic moment in my odyssey, the driver makes a right turn off of Northern onto a narrow residential street. Then he makes another right turn. “Why was this guy doubling back?”, I wondered. By now everyone on the bus knew that this guy was totally out of his league and totally lost. One person, with a Mets hat no less, got up from his seat, while the bus was moving, and yelled at the driver. Ahhh, nothing like New York courtesy! Basically, he should have said something earlier, but now he was pretty mad, and asked if he could be let off. The bus driver did NOT oblige!!!! The passenger then threatened to break the door open at the next stop. Can you believe this shit? All I kept thinking to myself was how did I get myself into all of this? I was just trying to get home!!!
Finally the heated words amongst the passengers was replaced with some common sense. We were all frayed with tension from a trying day. Though my saga beat theirs by a long, long, way.
And it would still get EVEN better.
The bus driver turned back east (if you could imagine) to an LIRR train station called ‘Broadway’. This was a station that I never even heard of, and I imagine hardly any trains would stop. Yet, I was wrong, because a train did stop there and take off……Too bad it was as we were approaching the station. Umm. Yes. That train left before we got there.
The driver further got lost even by the train station, driving up a narrow road he had no business driving through, and breaking tree branches along the way with the top of the bus.
Finally and mercifully, he stopped the bus. We got off and fled!
As I was following the lost herd of displaced passengers across some unseethy street in Queens, I had little confidence that another train was going to come anytime soon. So, I decided to break away from the failed flock of strangers that I was with, and journeyed my way over to Northern Blvd. again. I figured this time, I would just hop on a cab and pay a lot of money to take me the rest of the way home. It was 9:45pm.
But I could not find a cab anywhere and jumped onto a city bus heading for Main Street – Flushing instead. Thank God, I bought a Metrocard the other day when I went to work at the Chrysler Building too.
I got off the bus, and made my way to the 7 train on Main & Roosevelt. It was the first stop on the line. The Mets were playing (and losing to) the Tigers at Citifield, and the game was nearly over. Time for some interaction here….Do you know what the second stop on the 7 train is? Yep, you guessed it. Citifield.
Crowds of people were streaming on the train. Normally a trying situation to be crowded in a subway full of drunk and unruly fans, right? Now image having a nearly 7 hour head start, like the one I had, and you can bet your Aunt Fanny that I was none too patient. Fortunately, I had a seat on the train. Plus, by now, I was holding my head in my hand…along with my backpack, and gym bag (which was holding all of my race stuff).
Of course, at this time of night the 7 train was making all local stops. And since I had to go to nearly the end of the line, it was over 20 stops before I got into Grand Central Station. After being exposed to all kinds of weirdos, including this one dude with an oversized skateboard, multiple nose piercings, and an ear that was pierced with an asthsma inhaler hanging off of it, I got off the train and ran as fast as I could up and out to the terminal.
It was almost 11pm, and the first order of business was to find a working payphone, which I did, and called Karen. It had been over 3 hours since she last heard from me, and based on all my negative ra-ra I’d been doling out to her, she was worried sick over me.
After I hung up, I was able to get into a taxi cab. I told the cabbie guy this whole story and blew him away. When he finally dropped me off, and I entered my building the time read 11:15pm.
It took me 7 hours and 45 minutes to travel 38 miles. Again, I could have run home faster. And who knows? Perhaps if I didn’t have two heavy bags, I might have, if someone would have told me what I was about to face when I left my office at 3:30pm.
In the end, I drove a failing car twice, took a lift on a tow truck, took one LIRR train, took two buses (one school, one city), took a subway, and took a cab ride.
This was my odyssey and I wanted to share this with everybody.
Next up will be to see how much money it’s going to cost me to get my car, which is all the way in Manhasset, to be fixed.
Next time I have a race on a weekday, I will just take the day off!

Did you enjoy this?  I actually forgot to put in one funny afterthought, and that was that all that time I still had my racing number on!

UPDATE:  With so many pictures, it would take forever to re-add here, so please visit here for the full BLOG disclosure --> http://run-race.blogspot.com/2010/09/road-report-manhattan-grand-tour-run.html

It was 6:15 am.  Tom was punctual.  He was already outside waiting for us, as we had just awoken minutes earlier.  We had him come upstairs to get a first-hand view of the insanity that goes on at the Gonzalez household prior to a running event.

GU Gel Belt.  Check.  Red Bulls. Check. GPS Watch? Check.  Charged MP3 player.  Check.  Brain. Brain... Brain…  Brain?  Check.

For me, it’s the zombie show.  I’m like this old Buick that just can’t get started up.  I walk around my house in a malaise, hoping that all of this is just a bad dream that will end so that I can continue sleeping, dreamlessly.

As for Karen, ahhhh,  well that’s a different story.

While it’s hard to get her out of bed, (even with the threat of explosives) once she does get up, it’s like having GI Jane in your bedroom.  She buzzes around from room to room, quickly taking note of what to bring, and turning our queen bed into a staging area for all of her wares.  Not that it matters whether I’m still in bed or not, mind you.

But it gets even better.  You see, Karen likes a good cup of java in the morning.  And not just your traditional decaf (because heaven help the human race if she had caffeine!), but ice coffee as well.  Oh, and did I mention she likes to go to the bathroom?  A lot?

What is it with you women and bathrooms anyway?  I ‘ve noticed that women dominate the lines at the port-o-potties at races. 

Coffee, bathroom, coffee bathroom. Cup of java in the portosans – all runners have their idiosynchrocies.  I am a zombie in the morning.

We took a cab and got there a half hour early. $15.80 plus tips if your keeping score.

The weather was amazing yesterday.  Not a cloud in the deep blue sky, and the temps were barely in the lower 60’s. 

We got out of the cab.  Karen with a cup of ice coffee in one hand, and a decaf cup of coffee in the other, hastily mentioned the need to go to Twin Donut a few blocks from the start, to get, yep you guessed it….More coffee.   I’m glad Tom was witnessing all of this.  Even without a watch on, you can accurately guess the amount of time remaining to a race just by watching Karen’s increase in cycle frequency between coffee and bathroom.  Cofffeeeeee…. Bathhhhrrrroooom….  Coffeee.  Bathroomm.  Coffee! Bathroom!  Coffeebathroom!!

By the time everyone is lined up waiting for the gun to come off, Karen is just making it out of the bathroom.  With a cup of coffee in her hand.  

By the way,  the police cadets could not find our race numbers.  They had me down as Anthony instead of Alex.  And I had signed up Karen as K.Gonzalez instead of K.Rose, which is fine, but had forgotten I did this, lol, which added to the confusion.  The race director, Curtis (Dixon) who has always given the race a wonderful hands-on approach, took care of us, and we were finally on our way. 

I’ve probably mentioned this the last two times I’ve done this,  but there are two silly things that happen which makes this event so much fun and unique.  The first, is the touching of the last steel bridge girder in Manhattan, found on the Broadway Bridge.  Just before the start of the run, before the National Anthem and all, we are all asked to walk back  to it, and touch it, to be able to say that we indeed started at the northernmost tip of Manhattan.  The second thing is the pa announcer.  This guy is the result of what happens when you cross-pollinate steroids with Soul Train.  Not only is he “shoutin’ out to the dogs” and how “fourteen point two ain’t no thing’ for us” but coupled with music from Rocky.  

The guy followed us in his “ghetto-mobile” sticking his head through the moon roof and preaching us on as we ran up Broadway.  Very funny. 

What wasn’t funny were the first 3-4 miles.  All uphill in the Inwood section of Manhattan.  And of course, was that dreaded left turn up 184^th street.  One of the wickedest, albeit short, climbs in the entire island. 

However, it was on the next avenue we ran south on, Audobon, where I nearly wiped out.  The police escorts do a good job patrolling the streets, but the roads are not closed to this run, so it’s in your best interest to watch cross-traffic at the lights.  I did this as I was approaching a red light, and saw no cars, so Tom and I continued on with the rest of the pack.  What I didn’t see however was the crater of a hole that my right foot landed in.  My ankle buckled, and if it wasn’t for experience, I might have a broken ankle right now.  Fortunately, I just let my right foot stay loose, as my ankle buckled under, and was able to recover without even a strain.  Whew!

Tom and I had a great run throughout.  We had met up with another group and ran with them.  From mile 4 until mile 8 we never ran above 8 minutes per mile. 

Things started to slow down once we were along the Hudson River Trailway though.  The wind off the Hudson became as much a factor as the people walking around the path were.  I was also somewhat cognizant not to want to expend too much energy since I had to run at least another 8 more miles after the finish. 

As Tom and I started making our way down West Street & into the last section of the Manhattan 14.2, we came across a detour by some fire engine ladder (leave it to those men in red to make it a challenge for those men in blue).  It was at that point that we

hooked up with another runner named Chris Calimano who like us, likes the challenge for the above ‘n’ beyond.  He had mentioned to me about a 4 mile race he did with his wife that was practically a run up a mountain. Several thousand feet high, it was no wonder when he told me that the winning time had a pace of something like 10 minutes per mile.  It was also no wonder that his wife probably wanted to kill him as well, haha!

We finally got to the finish line, and got our medals.  Same as last year though.  Bummer. However, the goodies were good as promised.  I hung around for a few minutes to rehydrate.  Tom decided to call it a successful day, so I walked with him towards the City Hall station.  After I left him, I resumed my run again.  Slightly displaced, I ran in the wrong direction, south instead of east, but that was okay, because I had lost some mileage I would have done had I not walked with Tom.  I finally got to Water Street, and ran under the over pass leading to the three major bridges (Brooklyn, Mannhattan, Williamsburg).  Running by yourself is hard, but taking pictures as your running is even harder.  I probably should’ve concentrated a little better on my running form, but at least I didn’t stop until I got to a public bathroom around the 23^rd street area. 

Positives from my entire experience yesterday?  I felt incredibly strong throughout my run.  Despite my feet feeling fatigued, I was amazed at my capacity for maintaining a good pace throughout.   There were also a lot of hills, something I will not face in Chicago, but will face in NY, and I handled it fairly well.  Also, this was my 4^th 20+ mile run in the last 40 days.

Negatives?  I still haven’t broke the 8:02 plane needed to achieve the Boston Marathon.

UGGGGH!!!!

Do I go out and rack up sub-8’s during the early miles, hoping that when I slow down later I have at least a buffer of time to play with, or do I save my strength and just do 8 flats early on, but have no buffer in the end?

Not exactly what I had hoped for but sometime instead of wanting what you want, you instead need to want what you got.  What I got was something around an 8:10 pace, that’s excluding the 10 minute break.

Still, I’m hopefully optimistic that the man that I am today, will finally meet the man that I want to be.  And hopefully, that will happen at the finish line of the Chicago Marathon on October 10^th.

Pictures of this event will be made available soon here and on my blog.  Please check back tomorrow for final!

• 
• Part of the Norway Festival, this is one of our favorite half marathons. Experienced runners gallop over to the waffle line immediately after the conc ...

• 
• Paine to Pain is a giant single loop that winds its way through the woods and trails of several lower Westchester parks. You never run the same trai ...

• 
• For many New York City Marathoners, the final entry in the Grand Prix also serves as excellent chance to run a half marathon PR when they are at their ...

• 
• For many New York City Marathoners, the final entry in the Grand Prix also serves as excellent chance to run a half marathon PR when they are at their ...

Hey there all, I made this sped up video running with my son Liam (he was in a running jogger) along the West Side Highway.  I'm sure many of you know this route...

files.me.com/jpmcpeake/ w8dla0

Regards,

John

Hey there all, I made this sped up video running with my son Liam (he was in a running jogger) along the West Side Highway.  I'm sure many of you know this route...

https://files.me.com/jpmcpeake/vdjd46

Regards,

John

Hey there all -- for fun I made a video of a run (sped up) with my son Liam (cam attached to running jogger) along the West Side Highway -- I'm sure many on here are familiar with this route... 
https://www.me.com/gallery/#100140

Regards,

John

“Every time you hit a wall you have a decision to make.   You can stop at the wall or look for the door.  When you get to the door you have another decision to make.  Should I open it or keep it closed?  If you keep it closed you’ve made a decision to quit, if you open the door you made the decision to continue.  Once you open that door and go through it your mind resets and it gets you a few more miles.” — David Goggins

     Yesterday was Labor Day, summer is unofficially over.  This past weekend there were barbeques with family and friends.  The kids were dreading the first day of school but for many runners in the Tri-State Area it meant one thing.  Fall racing season is about to begin. 

     This fall is different, the Queens Half was in July, and so a major training race is gone from the fall calendar.   The Yonkers Half and the 18-mile ING New York City Marathon Tune-up are on the same day.  I’ll admit it, I’ve been spoiled.  In 2008, I ran the Queens Half, the Yonkers Half and the New York City Marathon Tune-up on consecutive weekends.  It was a great way to prepare for the fall marathon.  Last year, the Yonkers Half and the Marathon Tune-up were on the same day, we decided to run the 18-miler and it was a great training race, but I still was able to run the Queens Half and then the 18 miler back to back.  That option is not available this year.

     I like running long training races before a marathon.  The competition is good mental and physical training helping you deal with aches and pains as well as “the voices” that hear at about the 22^nd mile of a marathon.

     The Queens Half was brutal with its heat and humidity, and I used the Bronx Half to get my legs moving and work on the physical — now it’s time to get my head right.  It’s time to stretch out the training runs and pound the hills and to get used to pushing through heavy legs and breathing fire.  It’s time to work on the mental part as well—relearning to ignore the voices and keep moving when doubt sets in. 

     The New York City Marathon is two months away.  It’s time to get to work.