New York City Marathon
Saturday, November 6, 1999

Race report for Glenn's fifth marathon...
Date: Sat Nov 13, 1999
Subject: On the wings of penguins (NYCM 99)
 
 

Fellow flightless fowl... It was the hardest race of my life. I was on the verge of doing something I've never done in a race... Cry. * * * * * Sunday, February 28, 1999 Myrtle Beach, S.C. New York first entered my head last February. Yesterday, we ran the Myrtle Beach Marathon relay and today we're sitting down, eating our goodbye breakfast at the Sunrise Pancake House. I wondered aloud what my next goal should be. Kecia LiCausi from St. Louis recommended the New York City Marathon. The idea floored me. I was saving that race for later in my running career. But then I asked myself, "Why not?" There would be plenty of Penguins there, including my relay teammates, Debbie Sullivan and Ken & Ellen Weissman. Maybe this would be my only chance? I made up my mind: New York or bust. * * * * * My training for this marathon started off on the wrong foot. In fact, my first long run was the Chicago Distance Classic 20K last July. The lack of training and the heat resulted in my worst race performance ever. I promised myself that I would not repeat that effort. There was, however, a brilliant bright spot to the Penguin World Conference. There I met Kelly Ambrose, Kathryn Lye and Carlene Paquette--three fellow Canadian Penguins. I also learned that Kelly (a fellow Torontonian) was planning to run the Canadian International Marathon here in October. By September, everything was better than I had expected. In particular, there was now a full-fledged Toronto Penguin group who were running together and racing together. Not only that, but because Kelly was running a marathon so close to mine, we ended up doing parts of our long runs together. This was the first marathon where I had done the majority of my training with other people. I made the decision to run the Canadian International Marathon before the Scotiabank Half-Marathon in late September. My good performance (2:00.37 chip) justified that decision. I had one more long run before my taper and I was scheduled for 22 miles, so why not treat CIM like a long training run? Kecia was planning to do the same thing (run two marathons in three weeks) on the same day in Detroit. As I reported last month, the Canadian International Marathon was the most fun I ever had at a marathon. It was my fourth, but I treated it like a fun run: Not really concerned about the time, but with how I felt. I had the pleasure to run with Kelly as she completed her first marathon. I also had the support of my fellow Toronto Penguins in the form of cheering and bike support. 5:33.36. My slowest marathon, but my most fun marathon. I received the finish line photo samples and they are truly "proof" that I was having fun. In one picture, I look like I'm a long jumper (a la Bob Beamon). In the other picture, I'm yelling for joy at the camera. Now it was taper time. With three weeks left until New York, everything else fell into place. I bought my Greyhound bus ticket. I found accommodation with my mother's co-worker's brother (Cheap travel rule #1: If you need a place to stay, tell EVERYONE you know). And I finally received my official registration card, about a month after everyone else got theirs. At the final pre-New York Toronto Penguin group run, everyone wished me luck. When I told my friends, my co-workers and my family, they were surprised. Glenn? Doing a marathon? Again? In New York? Even after four marathons, people are still surprised to learn that I run. At my comedy improvisation workshop, I did a scene where I was running on a treadmill: [Scene: Health Club] Sean: Listen Glenn, I'm closing in 5 minutes. Glenn: But I've got to get this workout in before the New York City Marathon! Sean [stops the machine]: I'm closing the health club NOW. Mark: Hey Glenn, wanna join me? I'm going out for a 10K run! [FIN] After the workshop, I told my fellow actors it wasn't fiction. Tomorrow, I was on my way to the Big Apple, New York City. * * * * * Thursday, Nov. 4 @ 6:45 p.m. Scarborough, Ont. I'm about to leave the house in 15 minutes. Everything's packed into one bag. Should I do it? <Nah, it's stupid. I can make one in New York if I have to> But what if I can't? It's better to have one made up than to scrounge around at the last minute <Yeah, guess you're right> I pick up a Sharpie marker and an old Tyvek "PENGUIN BRIGADE" bib. I flip the bib over and write in big block letters: "GLENN". They said people would call you by name in New York. I'm still a bit skeptical. I mean, how many people could there be? * * * * * Friday, Nov. 5 @ 8:00 a.m. Port Authority Bus Terminal The trip from Toronto was uneventful. I didn't get any sleep, though. I've always found it difficult sleeping on a Greyhound bus. It's the combination of small seats, little legroom and the fear that someone will take my wallet. Small consolation, however, was taken in the fact that I sat next to a mechanical engineer from Davis, Calif., who was on his way to Washington, D.C. Interesting conversation and a sense of humour. We parted ways at the Port Authority bus terminal and I started the day carrying my 50-pound backpack. The first thing on my agenda: Eat breakfast. Outside Grand Central Station, I knew there would be marathon workers were handing out free breakfast samples: Smart Start cereal, milk, Dannon yogurt and Nutella. I took my bag of goodies and realized I had nowhere to eat it. I asked the taxi valet where the Central Public Library was and he pointed north a couple of blocks to a group of trees. THAT was it, he said. I walked two blocks, took off my pack, and camped on the steps of the New York Public Library. As the morning rush hour flowed by, I had breakfast. I would return here 48 hours later to make my trip to the New York City Marathon starting line. * * * * * Friday, Nov. 5 @ 10:30 a.m. Pier 92 I had an entire day to kill. I wasn't scheduled to meet my host until Friday night. After breakfast, I decided to visit the expo on Pier 92 bright and early. I stood in line with a group of Austrians and a trio of ladies from Denver. Two hours in line. The actual registration procedure was quick. Picked up international friendship run pack, picked up number, picked up the ChampionChip. Got through the gift shop and browsed the expo for a couple of hours with a heavy pack on my back. First penguin I see? Go figure: It's John himself. I wasn't expecting him here, but sure enough, he gives me a hug and tells me that he won't be racing, but he'll be here all weekend. I update him on our Penguin activities and leave him to his adoring fans. :-) The expo's really crowded. (New York, in fact, is the only city that keeps reminding me that I'm claustrophobic.) In tight quarters at the expo, I kept hitting people with my backpack as I turn around. I visited a bunch of race booths, including Comrades (the 54-mile ultra in South Africa), L.A., Paris (25th anniversary in 2001). Scarfed down free Gatorade, P/R bars, Powerbars, rice, Smart Start cereal, Raisin Bran Crunch--who needs lunch when you've got the expo? Bought 4 NYCM postcards for a dollar. Sat down at the exit and ruffled through my goodie bag. Threw out half the stuff. Take the bus to 5th Avenue... I spend the rest of the afternoon at the New York Central Public Library, reading a complimentary copy of "Distance Running" while waiting 90 minutes for an Internet computer. I check the Penguin NYCM e-group and discover an encounter later that night. I rush from the terminal, beg someone for a quarter (I only have 24 cents) and call Ellen Weissman for the scoop. Intermezzo. 8:00 p.m. Will do. * * * * * Friday, Nov. 5 @ 6:00 p.m. Long Island City, New York The first good sign: The apartment is only three blocks away from the subway station. The second good sign: The subway station is located in the heart of a busy commercial area with restaurants, a grocery, ethnic stores and a hot dog stand. This is much better than the "Banana Bungelow" hostel in Manhattan, where I stayed last summer ($20/night, plastic palm tree, one bathroom for two rooms). Plat is my mother's co-worker's brother. He works in a Manhattan hospital and has lived here for more than 20 years. He is also a seven-time finisher of the New York City Marathon, including several sub-4:00 times. I don't know what to expect. This is the first time we've met. I knock on the door and he welcomes me in. "How was your trip?" he asks. On the wall is a poster-size photo of his first New York finish in 1991. Both his arms are raised in triumph as the clock above reads 4:28. He's excited--I'm running HIS marathon: "You've got to hydrate--you want some water?" "You need bananas for potassium." "Make sure you bring some on Sunday." "Would you like something to eat?" "Here, have some water!" "How 'bout crackers? Bread? Aren't you carbo-loading?" It's runner's hospitality--with a Filipino touch. I drop my backpack, take a shower and race back to Manhattan where I'm meeting the Penguins for dinner. I run from the subway station and am literally out of breath when I arrive at the restaurant. Waiting outside are Ellen, Ron Horton, his sister Sandy and her son Ryan, who attends West Point. Later that evening, we're eventually joined by Ken Weissman, Harriet Kang, her brother, Shelton, and his wife, Linda. That night, over great pasta, Harriet shows off the new hot-off-the-press (literally!) HotFlashes! t-shirt, Ron updates the Brigade with his pocket e-mail device, and I have a great conversation with Sandy & Ryan. Two things I notice about New York City: 1. They got really good restaurants--sometimes they're small and hard to maneouvre in--but they're really good, and 2. New Yorkers think it's nothing to walk 20-30 blocks to get somewhere! I return to Long Island City at midnight and try to get some rest. In eight hours, I have to run. * * * * * Saturday, Nov. 6 @ 8:00 a.m. United Nations Headquarters One-third of NYC marathoners come from outside the United States. I'm one of them. Yep. Hard to believe, but to organizers at least, I'm the equivalent of a French or Dutch or Guyanese runner. I first learned about the International Friendship Run through the NYRRC Web site. Cool, I thought, maybe I could bring a flag? Naw. That's too conspicuous. Fast forward to Saturday morning. I take the subway to Grand Central and step outside. I'm expecting some of the 10,000 international runners to walk by. I can't see any. But I can hear them. As I get closer to the United Nations, with each passing block, I can hear them. Kazoos. Whistles. Drums. THEY are coming. The green and yellow of Brazil. The "tricolour" of France. The bright orange of The Netherlands. The international runners are coming... At the entrance to the lawn, I meet three other runners from Toronto. They wore hats with maple leaves on them, shirts with Toronto emblazoned on their chests and neckerchiefs with Canada on them. I... I wore a tiny Canada pin. <I KNEW I SHOULD'VE BROUGHT THE FLAG!> We looked for the Canadian flagpole, but it was taken. Someone had carried it to the front of the UN lawn, where we gathered for the speeches. We move as close to the podium as possible. It's shoulder-to-shoulder and we're stopped a couple of hundred metres from the front. As we listened to a Slovenian pan-flautist, the announcer listed the countries who were participating in the International Friendship Run. As each country was named, a roar emanated from the crowd. We waited anxiously for ours... "The Netherlands!" <ROAR> "Thailand!" <ROAR> "France!" <HUGE ROAR> "Cambodia!" <ROAR> Then... "Canada!" And instead of a roar, the only Canadians we could hear were ourselves! Heck, we were embarrassed! The French and Dutch who surrounded us looked at us in pity. I know what they were thinking: "Aren't there supposed to be MORE of you?" [Canadian aside: Canadians have never been known to be TOO patriotic and we wouldn't call ourselves "flag-wavers". However, our response was embarrassing!] After the obligatory speeches, the announcer introduced the Princeton a capella choir. To their version of Abba's "Dancing Queen" (I am NOT making this up), the flag bearers were told to go to First Avenue. When the race began, the Canadian flag was already 400 metres ahead and pulling away. I tried to follow it, but it was as if Donovan Bailey was carrying the Canadian flag. I knew I was going too fast. There were 6 km to go. So as we turned onto the Avenue of the Americas, I hooked up with a group of Canadians from Prince Edward Island holding a full-sized Canadian flag. This was their first marathon.

When two of the flag holders decided to slow down, I got a chance to hold the side of the flag. My flag companion spoke to the crowd: "We're from CANADA!!!" eliciting cheers. As I ran carrying the Maple Leaf, I thought of my Toronto Penguins and the Canadian Penguins I had met this year. I had trained with them, raced with them: Tracy, Emma Jane, Kelly, Kathryn, Carlene, Heather, Bev, Elisabeth, Joanne, so many more... All of them had helped me this year and I felt like I was carrying the banner for them. Left: When we turned onto Central Park West, holding the Canadian flag, I saw the Brigade waiting. I saw Kecia, Debbie, Daniel and other people I didn't recognize. I yelled, "PENGUINS!" while waving the Maple Leaf and they cheered back. The Islanders I'm running with say, "Hey, you've got a cheering section!" I know they're jealous ;-)

Above: We make the turn into Central Park and continue for another mile. Lots of people are walking now, the pace having been too fast and now they've decided to save energy for tomorrow's race. I'm determined to cross the line running. We cross the finish line and raise the flag in victory!

From left (clockwise): Daniel, me, Kecia and her dad, Ellen, Debbie, Molly from Indy and her mom

I return to the penguins and have the chance to meet Molly Ellsworth and her mother and Kecia and her father. We eat at the Shining Star Restaurant, a couple of hundred blocks away ;-) It seems familiar. Then I realize: I ate here last summer. (Glenn: In 1998, as part of my cross-country U.S. trip, I stayed in New York for three days. After cheering at the Manhattan half-marathon, we had breakfast here. Déjà vu!) Spend the afternoon killing more time at the expo. Lines aren't as bad this time. Cash some traveller's cheques and take the bus to York Avenue, but not before I dole out $1 to a saxophone busker playing Never Can Say Goodbye on 57th Street.

[Continued in Part 2...]
 

Home

About Us

Calendar

T.O. FAQ

Photos

Links

Page last updated: Feb 13/01