Sunday, nov. 6 arrives despite my butterflies, and even with the time change, Susan, Donna and I wake up at the correct time. Any inkling that this marathon was not a big deal quickly evaporates as we step off the elevator and the lobby is a sea of runners, every shape, size, nationality and accent all caught up in the excitement of the moment. We make our way to the Galloway bus at the plaza with our blankets and pillows. Meet great fellow galloway members and in a blink, we arrive at ft. Wadsworth. Though we are there a long time, it really doesn't feel like it.before long it is time to disgard excess clothing and make our way to our corral. We are in wave 3 (Susan and Donna hang back with me, good friends) and as each of the previous wave head off, more butterflies take up residence in my stomach.
But I look around and happen to spot the blind running hanging onto his guide runner. Things quickly come into perspective and realize I have nothing to be nervous about.

We make our way to the start (the precision with which this whole operation runs is something worthy of NASA) and we are within a few feet of the start. God Bless America plays and then the infamous words "runners today the streets of new York are Yours" the gun sounds, we are off, and frank sinatra's new York new York is blasting. At this moment, it is inconceivable to believe that this song could have been written for any other moment than this.

Ron you are not going to like this but it was nearly impossible to walk run on the bridge. My fear of starting too fast is overpowered by my fear of being trampled. I slow down to compensate for not walking. When I exit the bridge I start run walking. It is said that 2million people line the streets of this marathon, but the doubter in me (I am from New York, you know) says,"really, 2 million new yorkers wake up early on a Sunday?" And then we hit Brooklyn and I instantly think all 2 million people must be here in Brooklyn. It was unlike anything I have every seen, let alone run in. there were people everywhere, bands playing, banners flying, signs, and kids with their hands outstretched. I think I ran with a smile on my face mostly the entire race. Ok, so Brooklyn takes up about 1/2 of the race, then we hit the Queensborough bridge. To be honest, the bridges in this race kicked my butt. Cant anyone design a flat bridge?? On to First avene, another sea of people.
Onto the Bronx, Harlem and then suddenly Central Park is to my right. I am so close now, yet still have several more miles to go. Make it through the park and now exit onto Central Park South, and this is where my dream kicks in. For about 25 years now I have been envisioning this moment. Making my way along CPW on my way to head back into the park at Columbus Circle. In my dream people are screaming, but now this is no longer a dream. It is really happening. Crazy screaming spectators cheering me on, making me go faster than my legs really fell like going right now. I make my turn into the park and a volunteer screams "400 meters to go" and I just keep going,
300, 200, 100 and then the finish looms up ahead. My family is in the seats cheering me on and I cannot believe that this dream is coming true. It is everything that I have imagined and more. It is an accomplishment to end all accomplishments. I cross the finish at 6:10:08, slower than I had planned, but I have to say I felt really good during the majority of the race. I switched to 1 and 1's around 19, and I could really feel that helped.

One of the signs along the route said: "Pain is temporary, pride lasts forever". This was the most amazing experience of my life.