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This weekend I completed TREES AND NUMBERS at last! I started it on February 1, 2003. I now humbly present a book manuscript that is 263 pages long, divided into 10 chapters and an Epilogue. Sprinkled throughout the
Where this book took me:
- To the Giant Sequoias to research their secrets of immortality;
- To the Hillerich & Bradsby/Louisville Slugger Museum in KY;
- To the Joshua Tree forest just like U2
- To the finish line of the New York City Marathon;
- To the Hershey Chocolate World factory tour;
- To Route 66 and the history of the greatest teamwork lesson ever
- To Fenway Park and New England's fabulous fall color show
- To native lore and love at little Tucumcari, New Mexico
- To Miami's Fifth Street Gym and an amazing phone call from Muhammad Ali
- To Central Park and its 26,000 glorious trees in every season
- To the shores of Lake Erie skipping stones
- To the original streets of Evansville, Indiana, and its libraries/museum
- To countless leadership books and on a philosophical journey
- And, thanks to my special contributors, places all around the globe
During the course of this work, I had to change a sentence about the
cost of a postage stamp not once, but twice. It was 37 cents when I
first entered the sentence in 2004, then 39, and now 41. Less than one
hour into my 2/1/03 drive West that began everything, I heard on the
radio as the Space Shuttle Columbia broke apart during re-entry; by the
end of the work, I was honored to be friends with a NASA astronaut who
spent a long time on the International Space Station. During the course
of this work, I went from overweight smoker to whom things happened to
a marathoner making things happen.
Stay
tuned! Nothing is handed to you. If you believe in yourself and follow
your passion, I believe good things will happen. Maybe this will be a
seminal work in literary history! Maybe it will be my great white
elephant and I have just wasted half a decade! That is the thrill in it
all. Just have a goal, enter the race, make things happen, and live it.
I have some more work to do now!
6:08 finish at the 2007 ING New York City Marathon last November, my injury-plagued 26.2 mile debut.
5:21 finish today at the 2008 St. Louis Marathon on the hilliest/toughest course I know.
4:?? at the 2008 ING New York City Marathon on Nov. 2.
I am going to hire a research firm to see if they can detect a trend...
Loving every moment right now, have incredible pics of my weekend with my awesome crew including my 20-year-old son Matt and his girlfriend Amanda, my 16-year-old son Ben and his girlfriend Erica, and my 14-year-old son Josh. They were waiting at the finish line for me with cowbells and signs including "HEART OF A CHAMPION". They were my awesome 21.2 Pit Crew!
This was my second marathon, so this is my second marathon post. Here are the pictures and the words.MARATHON EVE
With my 14-year-old Josh:
After picking up my registration stuff at the Marathon Expo. The Arch says it all...
Ben (16) with Winthorpe (now 11):
Ben and Erica below. He swiped the Sleep Number gift from my Expo bag -- a sleep mask!
The crew:
I am so proud of my boys, and nothing new when Matt opened a letter waiting for him at the house. It was welcoming him to a national scholastic excellence organization after he made the Dean’s List this semester at the University of Missouri’s School of Finance. I was so proud when he opened it. He came over just for this race and had two tests on Monday and one on Tuesday, so I know it was a big sacrifice for him, and that’s how much we all love each other. I also got to see him study for Accounting and Marketing tests and am blown away by how organized he is, with his meticulous notes printed out and put into a binder that he studies, etc. So far beyond what I was doing in college. Love my guys.
Here is my temporary tattoo with splits for a 5 Hour Pace. This was AMAZING. I got it at the expo. Better than a pace bracelet. I repeatedly looked down at my forearm after Mile 20, when I was on my own, to gauge how well I was keeping up with my pace.
My motel room the night before. I decided to go with the orange look:
We had our own Pasta Party at the boys’ house. I made fettuccini with alfredo sauce and bowtie pasta with red sauce, and everyone mixed and matched. Josh gave me the lowdown on Hakeem tha Dream and why I had to download THICK WIT IT from iTunes, so it was a powersong now, too. Here it is:
The pasta party was better than the official Pasta Party downtown. I went back to my motel room and got to sleep at 12:40 a.m.
THE MARATHON
Miles 1-16
I slept 4 hours, waking up at 4:40. I got down to the Union Station area at 6, and the race started at 7. I checked my bag with everyone else inside City Hall, an amazing scene of runners. Then I hit the portapotty and looked for Molly. She had been at the table at the Expo the day before, and I had signed up to be part of the 5 Hour Pace Group that she would be leading.
There were maybe 20 of us in that group. We started out great. It was an indescribably beautiful St. Louis spring day, as Mizzouri Governor Matt Blount -- who was running on a marathon relay team -- pronounced to runners. We ran toward the Arch and the sunrise, just gorgeous. Then we hung a right and proceeded South all the way to the Anheuser-Busch Brewery. If you’ve ever been to St. Louis, you know what an institution this is. The huge BUDWEISER sign at the top tells you where the King of Beers is based. This is it. The greatest beer by sales and Super Bowl commercials. I will get way ahead of myself here and let you know that 200 meters before the finish, I was handed a beer by volunteers, who said, "Don’t worry, you will be fine. Drink it."
We then circled back north toward Market Street, and then came a long trek West. The course went through many iconic St. Louis areas, including the Purina HQ, Barnes Jewish Hospital, Washington University, and more. There were cowbells everywhere, and I had bought two for my crew. They were selling them at the Expo, at a booth called "26.2 Pit Crew." People: You HAVE to get some 26.2 Pit Crew stuff at your next Expo. Everytime I heard a cowbell, I remembered the Saturday Night Live skit and yelled, "More cowbell!" I cheered for other runners. I shouted repeatedly: "I LOVE HILLS!!!!" I was total energy man. That was for the first 15-16 miles, and that even included going through Forest Park, a 3 1/2-mile stretch that I had absolutely feared leading up to this event.
Here is a picture during the first half. That's Molly on the right. You can also get a good view of my pace tattoo! I look like hell, and I had halfway to go! But damn I felt great.
Miles 16-26
Molly said at one point, "I’m not letting you go." Our pace group had winnowed down to a handful halfway through. She was a couple of minutes ahead, and I had visions of a 4:58 or so. I was so psyched. She was doing a great job, and I appreciate pace runners because her PR is like 3:20. I am sorry to say that I lost sight of Molly and the rest of them once we got into Clayton. That is where the bubble burst on my 5 Hour time. That is where I realized that the second half of this marathon was the hilliest one I have heard about anywhere.
Once we were at the extreme edge of Clayton, I was the farthest away from the finish line at any point on the course, and I stared at this LONG and STEADY incline ahead of me on Delmar Boulevard, and my courage was tested right then and there. I tried to run. I got lightheaded. I stopped briefly at a med tent, and they let me sit there for a few minutes, gave me Gatorade, I stood up, lubed with vaseline on chest and thighs, tried to run, then got wicked right calf cramping. That was a hard mile or two of pure survival. I tried to run but it was heavy walk-run-walk. I lost 10 minutes in that area of the course.
It never got a whole lot easier. We ran through University City. I was in a battle of wills at that point. Spectators were few and far between. An occasional band. It was the opposite of the NYC Marathon with its 2 million spectators. After I lost the pace group, it was me against myself. Strike that: It was me supporting myself. I stayed positive.
THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A WALL!
Others have disagreed with me, but I have now said after both of my first two marathons that I think the term THE WALL is bullshit. The wall has nothing to do with it. I think it is a cop-out, even. It is about training, about building up quads, etc. My arms were getting tired, something I thought of often. I needed to do more arm work. If you are a positive person, there is no such thing as a wall.
The fact that I was battling had nothing to do with a wall. The hills were testing my leg power. I never had any doubt that I would get there, and my goal was seeing my kids at the finish line. I was thinking about that. I was thinking about what dance I should do across the finish line. I listened to my iPod for the back half but not the front half. I passed and was passed by and passed and was passed by various strangers who I gradually got to know and chat with. It was a battle of hills and a battle of wills. Guess what, I made it.
My Achilles tendon was perfect. The last 3 miles were straight uphill, staring at the Arch in the distance the whole way. Forever. I got to Mile 26, and all I could think of was seeing Matt, Ben and Josh. Then I did. First I saw Matt, then Josh, holding up the big white "HEART OF A CHAMPION" sign. Then I saw Amanda, then Ben with Erica. They were making cowbell music. Then I took a slight left turn that led us into a 20-yard run through the Finishing corral.
For that whole stretch, I danced to Nelly’s Heart of a Champion. I overdid it big time just because. The announcer said, "And here comes Mark Newman, from New York City!" THAT IMPRESSED ME! What other marathon does that for just some participant, spotting your bib number and looking you up and giving you that personal touch? As they said my name, I am jumping, pumping my fists in the air, dancing, hopping, doing Nelly right since he’s a St. Louis guy. I was "S-T-L Derrty." I was a soldja, I thought I toldja. I just ran 26.2 miles. I literally fly across the chip mat, hoping my chip was not too high from the mat to record my time. They put a medal around me, I reunited with my crew, life was great.
There is a funny story about one of the photographers toward the end. He stood in front of me and waited until the last split second to jump out of the way. I thought I was going to run him over, I swear. It was like I was Lance Armstrong and he was the motorcycle-cam right in front of him. Dude, I am not that fast!!! I'll bet you that will be an awesome running photo, though. If you like seeing death warmed over.
NUTRITION
Here is what I consumed during the course of my second marathon:
I had a banana and a few bites of bread two hours before the race. I had a bottled water and a bottled clear sport drink. Sipped from each up until the race. Portapotty 15 minutes before start.
At midnight before the race, I bought a bag of pretzels and saran wrap at a Walgreen's. I was going to crunch them up and wrap them and then safety-pin that to the side of my shorts like a woman taught me at the Nike Half last August, but it was too bulky. So I just crushed a bunch and stuffed them into my left pocket. I munched on those throughout the race for SALT.
I also brought five little salt packets with me, the typical kind at a deli. They were in my right pocket. Before the race I broke one open onto my tongue and washed it down with water. I used them all up during the race. So between those and pretzels I was covered.
I was hydrated perfectly, and I had water and Gatorade at each available stop -- in moderation.
I took GU at miles 7, 14, 19 and 23. I might have even snuck one in somewhere else on the back half, as they were distributed at miles 14 and 23.
POSTRACE
We took two cars back home, and Matt drove my rental SUV as I stretched out in the back and felt awesome.
I took an ice bath at the motel after dropping off the boys. I would appreciate it if someone can tell me how to really get through an ice bath. This time I lasted a little bit longer but it was quick. The first time I got in, I lasted one complete minute, counting every second to 60. Then I jumped out and the pain seared my legs. After a couple of minutes, I got back in. I lasted 20 seconds that time. So total 80 seconds. How do you last 5-10 minutes like they recommend? All I know is, it worked. It makes the soreness/inflammation less severe in recovery, so the following week is not as miserable. I noticed it right away.
Back at the boys’ house, I played basketball with my guys. "How are you running, Dad?" Josh asked me. I didn’t even know. I ran after loose balls. I tried to dunk on a goal dropped to 9 feet. I was loving life. We spent another great night together, and then I said goodbye to my dudes as Matt/Amanda headed back to college late that night and I went back to my motel for a Monday flight.
Next up for me, besides being the best I can be and even better at my awesome job in Major League Baseball, is putting together the proposal that is going to make my currently 255-page book manuscript an international best seller in every language and then screenplays and then me sailing around the world and living the largest life a man ever lived and being remembered. You can do anything. Just proved it again! You are whatever you think you are, you will be whatever you think you can be.
There were many times during these 26.2 miles when I looked down at my legs moving, and I thought to myself: How am I doing this? I never knew I could. There was a long and tortuous climb up Delmar Boulevard coming back from Clayton, and not only was the hill killing me, there was that calf cramp. Then the insides of both thighs just started doing something weird, twitching uncontrollably. I thought: What’s next? On that long stretch, I kept trying to put one leg in front of the other, walking, running, trying to run more, and eventually you are just continuing to run and you get back into a zone for a while and you aren’t really sure how your body keeps answering the call...but it does.
I love running. I am a multiple-marathoner now.
My First Marathon
"A triumph of the will over all limits." That is what it says on the back of my New York City Marathon medal, a quote from the great Alberto Salazar. That is the story of my first 26.2 mile run, and here is a final wrapup for all my friends and family who were so kind to support me during this quest.
Marathon Eve
On Saturday, Nov. 3, I went to our Team for Kids party at the legendary China Club in the heart of Times Square. It was wonderful. We all talked about the work we had done to raise money for a fabulous cause -- fighting childhood obesity and creating running programs for children -- and it was so cool to meet others in that shared experience. Thanks to the support of so many wonderful family and friends, we raised $2764 from 60 donations, contributing to a total of $3.5 million raised by us 1,000 runners. That evening, I watched the on-demand movie "Invincible" starring Mark Wahlberg -- for inspiration. The Barilla Marathon Eve dinner was at Tavern on the Green, which is one of the most beautiful settings for a dinner you can ever imagine. The pasta itself was decidedly horrible, and I have decided that next year I will enjoy a pre-race Italian dinner at Carmine's. But it was nice to be around other runners.
After eating, it was nice to walk out to the Finish line area, which is adjacent to Tavern on the Green. I started walking backwards on the race route. Suddenly I came to the Mile 26 sign. A man there asked to have his picture taken, saying, "Just in case I don't make it here tomorrow." I put a hand on his shoulder and said, "Sir, both of us will be here tomorrow. We will never forget this spot and this moment." Then we both laughed. And we would get back here.
This photo below was important to me for another reason. The night before was a beautiful pink sunset over Central Park, but what I remember was these gorgeous London Planes and other trees that are among 26,000 trees in the park. By finishing the New York City Marathon, I knew that I would have a new beginning and a new ending for my currently 210-page book manuscript "Trees and Numbers." This was the quintessential part of my book. The trees. The numbers. It is running. It is baseball. It is digital. It is life. Everything in life begins with Trees and Numbers, the original street naming grid in my hometown of Evansville, Indiana.
Here is the sign that was on my back for the ING New York City Marathon 2007. I lost my Dad last year and dedicated the race to him. I cried for him when I went under the Mile 26 sign. I also dedicated it to my beautiful and bright sons Matthew, Benjamin and Joshua. It was our race together. I was so happy to know that my boys would be tracking me on Sunday.
My friend Sherry was here and she did a great job with the signs. I pledged to everyone that I would dance across the finish line. There is a 1981 Solid Gold video on youtube by Peaches & Herb, "Shake Your Groove Thing." Herb wore lime in that video just like I was going to wear.
Race Morning
I woke up at 3:26 a.m. ET on Sunday, November 4. It was more time than I needed, but I wasn't going to take any chances whatsoever. I had a banana and toast. Then it was time to place two temporary tattoos on my face. One was the University of Kentucky Wildcat logo. One was the UK letter logo. They are on behalf of my Dad, who was a diehard UK football and basketball season-ticket holder, whose ashes were spread in 2006 on the UK football field 50-yard line. This was my tribute to my Dad. Thank you to Sherry for ordering them online for me; they showed up on the Friday before the race, just in time!
That's me on the bus. At 5:20 a.m., I arrived by taxi at 51st Street between Sixth and Seventh avenues. That's where all the Team for Kids charter buses were waiting for us. It is one of the unquestioned benefits of being part of TFK, of all those months of trying my best to raise funds for a wonderful cause. They are such a wonderful organization and this is where you really get some payback! We had a police escort all the way to Staten Island, we had instant seating (I was the third person on the bus), and it was VIP all the way, baby!!!!!
I looked out the window above and, voila, there was Cafe Duke! I walked off the bus, went over and got a croissant and a green tea, below.
When each of us boarded the buses, we were handed an envelope. Inside was a card signed by a different child who benefited from Team for Kids. If you are reading this, then watch closely because you are opening this card with me. Thank you on their behalf.
Look at the shadow that the Verrazano Narrows Bridge made on Staten Island and Fort Wadsworth at sunrise! You can see the mighty bridge's posts.
And there they are. The runners. There will be 40,000 of us.
I
turned around as we filed into the village, and there was Chewbacca and
Yoda. I ran behind the Star Wars characters through Brooklyn. All I
could think of when I looked at Chewbacca, wearing that heavy sweat
suit, was: "Why."
Tens of thousands of runners camped out in the Fort Wadsworth village, braced against a breezy chill in the hours before the race. It was very cushy inside the Team for Kids tent! Another benefit of raising a whole lot of money during the summer. I staked out my little patch of grass on a towel and snoozed for a half-hour. It was fun to mingle with other TFK runners who had all gone through the same experience.
This is me with Lydia, who is the head of operations for Team for Kids. Lyd bravely fought AND BEAT breast cancer two years ago and she is a triumphant soul who inspires you and who encouraged us for months. It was SO cool to finally meet her on this weekend.
Below is me with a very special runner. Her name is Alicia, and a lot of people know her as Maz. She is kind of one of the leaders of the TFK runners, a truly outgoing and friendly and well-liked fellow runner, and on this morning she had a magic marker and was even more popular than ever. There was constantly a line of runners asking Alicia if she would please mark their names on their bodies, so she was constantly writing on limbs. I stuck my lower leg out and said, "Alicia, would you mind one more?" She wrote "MARK" in green beneath my knee. Because of that, thousands of citizens screamed my name that day. I am so glad I asked. If you ever run a New York City Marathon, whatever you do, remember this: PUT YOUR NAME ALL OVER YOUR BODY!!!! It is the best advice I can give any future NYC Marathoner.
There's an even better look at my UK Wildcat tat.
ING NEW YORK CITY MARATHON 2007
THE START: Runners were divided into Blue, Green and Orange corrals. I was assigned to Blue. I made a friend there named Sean, a guy who works for race sponsor ING based in Atlanta. Something happened here that I will never forget. It will be possibly the very beginning of my book as I start writing this month. We were herded forward amongst one oak tree after another, all passing signs that read 3000-3500, 3600-4000, etc, marking bib numbers. Trees and Numbers are all that you could possibly experience visually in those moments. It is the purest essence of my book. We finally moved up toward the V-N Bridge, and it was quite a scene to hurdle over sweatshirts and sweatpants and jackets and other gear that runners left behind for a charity that will need our clothing. We were off and running: My first marathon ever. HERE IS A BRIGHTROOM.COM PHOTO: I'M THE GUY IN LEMON-LIME!!!
MILE
1: I remember being in the middle of the V-N Bridge, and there was a
guy standing on the edge, peeing into the Atlantic Ocean. It was like
he was communicating with the ship that was spraying streams of water
to celebrate the start of the race.
MILE 3: Someone clipped my foot from behind. I wiped out on the pavement. Fortunately, I called upon my taekwondo instincts, and I did a tumble roll on the street, bouncing right back up, dusting off my hands, and thinking: "OK, who saw that?" hahahaha I just kept running. Welcome to your first New York City Marathon, Mark!!!! Just then a guy held a sign that read: "FINISHING IS THE ONLY F**KING OPTION!" Lots of roars for that one.
MILE 4: I will be estimating mileage at this point. There were 120 bands. The one I remember most was a beautiful Baptist Church to our left, and lining the sidewalk out front was their gospel choir, all singing for us. It is so humbling. You just raise your fist into the air, hoping they will see you, that you are thanking them for entering your consciousness for a minute as you fly by.
I knew Fourth Avenue would last forever. You really can't know it until you experience it, though. It was like Forrest Gump running across the country. I gave a thousand high-fives to people, especially very small children. I loved the changing cultures. Every community was different, in race and face and music and architecture. Fluid stations featured Gatorade in front, and if you wanted water, you ran toward the end of the stations.
It was on this mile that I felt my first twinge of plantar fasciitis in my right foot.
Mile 7: I just remember a guy in front of me saying to someone: "See that big building up ahead? That's Mile 8." Indeed. It was the building I had stared at over and over and over in visualizing the course in the week before, with my youtube video and at the ING area at the Expo.
Mile 10-12: I love you, Williamsburg. It was such a cool part of Brooklyn. I cannot say adequately enough how much those people helped me. They came out in shocking force. The screamed my name constantly. At Mile 11, my right foot was officially my enemy for the rest of the day. It was aching just as it had in Long Training Run No. 2, when I had to limp back home. This time, it would not matter. I would run through whatever pain my body offered. It hurt like hell. I was looking around for my colleague Gur while running; you have no chance of spotting someone (vice-versa) in this crowd unless you specify the street corner precisely.
Half-Marathon: My time was 2:48. I was very happy with that. My TFK coaches had told me to think "10-10-10". 10 miles, 10 miles and a 10K, running the second 10 faster than the first, and the 10K faster than all three. Save up, save up, save up in the first 10 miles. I tried to pace myself during that time. I was on track, I felt. At that point, I saw a pay phone booth on the sidewalk. I jumped over the barricade and placed a collect call to my Mom. "Hi, Mom, I'm halfway done, about to leave Brooklyn for Queens." It was so funny. I felt so glad to talk to my Mom. She isn't wired on a computer. My boys were charting my progress back in St. Louis online, so was my brother Tim in Colorado Springs, so were others all over thanks to technology. I went back onto the street to run, and at the end of the block I stopped again.
It was an English Bulldog. Right in the middle of the intersection. You guys know me. I spent 5 minutes hugging and petting that English Bulldog. Maybe 8 minutes. Maybe my six hour time was because of that. "You ready to run?" I asked him, knowing that the bully I had could not run 26.2 inches. Every time I run Central Park, I see a bully and have to pet it.
QUEENS: It was hard to run uphill over the Queensboro Bridge. For one thing, there was a gorgeous panoramic view of the Manhattan skyline, and I stopped to admire it. Things were starting to hit me. My foot was breaking off. After getting over the bridge, something happened. Four Team for Kids teammates, including Alicia (pictured above, the limb-marker), came up from behind and she said, "C'mon, do this for your boys!" (It was on that sign on my back.) I said, "My foot is killing me!" Alicia said, "I know! So is my hip! Let's go!" I ran with them. For a mile. Then I lost them. It would be a bad mistake, but my body gave me no choice. I listened to my iPod. We can now put any "controvery" to bed over marathons and iPods. Katie Holmes' picture wearing hers is all over the world. I listened to mine when I want. If you are a race director and you do not permit iPods, then congratulations, you are a loser and you sound kind of like a book-burner. It's 2007 and Apple is responsible for part of this new runner boom.
BRIDGE TO MANHATTAN, MILE 16: Queens didn't last long, fortunately. But what did last long was the longest bridge in the history of human civilization. Or so it seemed. It was dark and tunnelly, trying to get across the East River, running, walking, running, walking, dying. Massive pain. I knew that heaven lie on the other side -- those legendary crowds along First Avenue, just waiting for you. In the middle of the bridge, there was a series of signs. They said: "If Easy Means Having Only 10 Miles Left"..."Then Welcome To Easy"..."Welcome To Manhattan." The moment finally came, after Mile 16. And the crowds were glorious.
MANHATTAN/FIRST AVENUE: I did my best. Every time the crowds screamed: "Let's Go Mark! You Can Do It!!!!" I made myself run. But at Mile 18, my quads bonked. I could no longer lift my legs up to run. It was the ONLY thing other than my right foot that went on the fritz today. There were always med tents (they are great) and I stopped in the next one. "What is wrong?," the Latin woman asked me. "My quads bonked," I said. Funny, she knew exactly what I meant. She put me on a stretcher, and proceeded to give me a painfully exuberant and effective deep muscle leg rub, and then put icepacks on both thighs. She gave me two Tylenol. Then she threw me out onto the street like dirty water. "What do I do now?" I said. "Stretch. Walk," she said. I did. Then I ran. Somehow. Then there was a fluid station with lots of cold green sponges, and also PowerBar gels. A little girl gave me pretzels. "Do you know why we like pretzels?" I said to her, down on my knees. She was maybe 5. "No, why Mister?" she said. I said, "Because the salt makes us run faster. It is like magic to me right now. Thank you." She smiled at me and I smiled back, then I ran. A woman held a sign that read: "I WANT TO DATE A MARATHON MAN!" I ran along her side of the fence.
MILE 20/THE BRONX: First Avenue was like the Equator. It just kept going forever. And it was completely uphill, gradually, painfully, unmercifully. I ran. I walked. I ran. I walked. Then I got to The Bronx and I saw the Mile 20 sign, and THAT IS WHEN IT HIT ME: You are going to finish a Marathon. I made myself run. I have to say a quick word here, first:
THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A WALL!!!!!
There. I have been wanting to say that. I think that the constantly referred-to term of "The Wall" is complete and utter bullshit. I think it is in the mind. It is one thing to have your quads just stop on you. But I don't buy into The Wall. That is a mindset. If your mind is strong, there is no such thing. You will never convince me otherwise. I am glad I learned that for myself.
MILES 21-22/HARLEM: We left The Bronx by crossing over the Madison Avenue Bridge. At the bottom of the hill was a rhythm-and-blues band playing, and I veered to my right while the other runners banked left, and right then and there I DANCED with the band. They all got into it. They had a runner dancing with them. I forgot all about my foot, all about my quads, all about my time. I danced, Lee Ann Womack. Yes, I definitely danced in Harlem.
MILE 23: It hit me at Fifth Avenue and 130th Street that I know exactly where I am. I could measure my distance in MY MILEAGE. I knew that 20 blocks equal one mile. So to get from 130th to 59, or the bottom of Central Park, I had to shave off 70 blocks, or 3 1/2 miles. Just chunk it, Mark. It seemed too big at that moment. I ran. I walked. I ran. I walked. I was giving in again. Then I would tell myself: NO!!!! THIS IS YOUR MARATHON!!! DO NOT GIVE IN!!! I would stop and drag my right foot at a 90-degree angle, trying to relieve the pain, squishing my foot against an edge of the sole. Then I would run again. I was doing what my TFK coach Courtney had told me at Mile 11. I was landing on the outer edge, then the inner edge, then on my toes, then on my heel, then the middle. I did that constantly, trying to "distribute the pounding." It might have been only psychological, but it was all I could do. You know what was funny? In the 20's, there were times when I forgot about the pain, because the pain was so constant; it's like my body was trying to make the pain go away. For a while it would. Then I saw it: 110th Street. I had reached Central Park. My turf.
MILE 24: It took a long time to get to the 90th Street entrance of Central Park, where the course veers to the right. It was uphill getting there, and I lost a lot of time in those 20 blocks. Then I was running clockwise on my familiar regular course, toward Cat Hill. That's when I saw the first people on the course I knew. "NEWMAN!!!!" came the shout on the right. It was Gregg, the guy who sits next to me at work, and his wife. He came out and gave me a hug, and I thanked them for coming out. He saw that I was crying. I was way past worrying about that. "Kind of emotional right now," I said, wiping my face with my wristbands. I had just crossed under the MILE 24 sign. It had made me think of my Dad...that I was almost there.
MILE 25: We went past the Boathouse, and I crossed my chest and said a prayer for Ryan Shay, who had collapsed and died right there a day earlier in the U.S. Olympic Men's Marathon Trial. I kept running, which was actually symbolic, as that is what happened in the bigger picture, after that Saturday tragedy. Humanity moved on, in spite of a fallen comrade. Everyone had his or her own story. Mine continued as I reached the turnoff out of the park and onto 59th Street. Then it was a sharp right turn, and there were the crowds again. I was so proud to be a New Yorker. They shouted at me so loud. My legs buckled, and I dragged my right foot sideways again, once again as if it were a broken appendage. I could barely feel it. It had hurt since Mile 4. Why was I still running? How was I still running? "JUST KEEP MOVING, MARK! YOU'RE DOING THE RIGHT THING! JUST KEEP MOVING!" I will never forget that woman's voice. I looked up into the sky as I ran. I closed my eyes. I gritted my teeth. My strides continued. I made it over to the other side of the park, and at Columbus Circle we turned back in for the home stretch.
MILE 26: And that is where I saw the MILE 26 sign that my new friend and I had talked about the night before (see above). I remembered that moment. But mostly, I thought of my Dad. I broke down right there. I cried like a fire hydrant opened up full. I didn't care who saw me cry. That was my Dad. I looked up at the sky at him. I said, "Dad, take me home." The sign said 600 yards to go. THREE FOOTBALL FIELDS. That seemed forever. I thought of running football fields in high school. It was too big a thought. Just put one foot in front of the other, Mark. "Dad, take me home." I looked up at the sky again. I prayed. I talked to my Dad. The finish line was up ahead. It was bright blue, big and beautiful, like reaching the ocean.
THE FINISH: I raised both arms as high as I could, to touch the sky and hug my Dad. I smiled. I went under the finish line. As I did, I danced again, just like I had in Harlem. I did a Nelly to the left, a Nelly to the right, and a Nelly to the left. The crowd laughed -- I don't think many other runners danced across the finish line. Then they put a medal around my neck. They took my picture. They put one of those solar blankets around me. I limped horribly back to Cherry Hill on 72nd Street, to the TFK tent where our checked bags were waiting. I ate a sandwich, an apple, drank more. I went home and took an ice bath, screaming the whole time and lasting exactly one minute. I took a hot bath with epsom salts. I had a piece of buttercream cake from Alice's Teacup next door. I had several Coors Lights to go with a delivery order of babyback ribs and a baked potato from Dallas BBQ. I took Motrin. I was a marathoner.
MY TIME: 6:08. It gives me something to SHATTER in my next marathon. I am a little bummed out that I was so slow that I did not make it into the New York Times, and my fellow runners who I talk to all the time know how frustrated I was by that number. But it's something I can deal with. The best email I got was from Bob, head of the Big Cats runner club of which I am a part nationally, and he said, "Congrats on a huge accomplishment!! Times will drop - they always do! The first race is just your first PR!" That meant a lot. I know the reason for it personally, and that only matters in terms of MY OWN EXPECTATIONS.
Here's what the medal looks like close-up.
The Day After
On Monday, November 5, I limped back to Tavern on the Green, where they had the Marathon Monday store. I got my medal engraved with my name and time on the back. I got a Finisher cap. I again read the words on the back of my medal, and they are perfect, considering what I had just gone through: "A triumph of the will over all the limits." I got back to my apartment after painstakingly climbing up a few flights (good to keep moving), and I looked at the silver keyfob on my keychain. It said "ING New York City Marathon." My boss Geoff had given me that last winter, the first time I realized that I wasn't the only one who thought I could perhaps do this. I just nodded my head, and then unlocked my door, and started my new life as a marathoner. I haven't decided my next move. I just want to be a good Dad, I want to be better than ever at what I do every day, I want to finish a book manuscript now that I've finished a marathon, I want to let my right foot heal, and then I want to go 26.2 again.
Hey, guys. I just took an ice bath and am in an enormous amount of pain right now and going through a full range of emotions in the most spectacular day of my 48-year-old life other than the birth of my three beautiful sons Matt, Ben and Josh. I will blog much more. I mainly wanted to thank everyone for your beautiful comments and for your thoughts. I congratulate any other friends I have who ran in the New York City Marathon as well. Let me just take the time quickly here to tell you my emotions, and I will get to the fun details later.
Proud. I am so proud to be a New Yorker. I had heard so much about the crowds lining the 26.2 mile course. Nothing, nothing at all, could prepare you for what you experience. Strangers screamed "Let's Go Mark!" and "You're Doing Great Mark!" and "Looking Good Mark!" all day, probably over 2,000 or 3,000 times conservatively. I felt like I had friends from start to finish...and I did. I can think of at least 25 times specifically when I was walking and struggling and someone pushed me, and as a result of their encouragement I suddenly was running. It really happens. It meant the world...it cannot possibly be articulated here.
Overcome with emotion. When I ran under the 24 Mile mark inside Central Park, I started to cry as all those darn people were watching on both sides. I kept running with as much heart as I could muster. My plantar fasciitis started at Mile 4 and it got worse all day but I breathed in the pain and did the best I could despite finishing with an embarrassing time (6:08 net -- you guys know me and you know how I feel about that). It doesn't matter (much). Time doesn't matter to me. What matters is that when I came upon the finish line at Tavern on the Green and ran under that 26 Mile mark, I broke down like a baby while I was running and thought of my Dad. This was about him and my boys, all of whom were on the sign on my back. I regained my composure to cross the finish line with my arms high in the air and a big smile, and HERE YOU GO MY PEOPLE -- I am pretty sure I was the only runner, judging by the crowd reaction, who DANCED across the finish line. I did a Nelly to the left, a Nelly to the right, a Nelly to the left, and it felt so damn good. Dad, this was for you.
Thankful. I am just so thankful that I made the decision to stop smoking last December and to become a runner. I know that I could knock an hour and a half off my time just by my right foot healing -- if it ever can. I thought it would have by not running on it for all of October. I am a runner now, I am hooked. I just loved today, from the early bus ride to running over the Verrazano Narrows Bridge to high-fiving over 1,000 children along the way. If I hadn't stopped to pet an English Bulldog for 5 minutes, if I hadn't stopped to call my Mom collect from a pay phone booth at the 13 Mile mark (haha), I would have broken 6 hours. Ha. And that brings me to this:
Living in the Moment. I can honestly say that no one lived in the moment today more than me out of the 40,000 runner field. I can guarantee you that. I soaked it all in, I appreciated every step of the way, and those people...it was a memory and a moment that no one ever will be able to take away from me now.
I will blog lots of pictures, videos and details at some point later. I have to rest. Thank you all...Mark
ps, here is the link to the marathon results page, and I'm runner 26323.
I am runner number 26323 in the ING New York City Marathon.
The Time is Now.
After chronicling my odyssey all season, since I started distance running last December, it is time. I just returned from the World Series in Denver, where we put the 103rd Fall Classic to bed, where I spent so much time talking with Red Sox fans and writing their stories on MLB.com, and looking back I have to say that it was the best Major League Baseball season that I remember in my lifetime. I will put it up there with '41, '69 or any other season from the past that has inspired so many books and legends. No year ever could match this one for magical milestones (3000/500s/600/300 and important records (home run king), 3 no-hitters, unprecedented competitiveness involving seemingly everyone into September, and a fourth straight year of overall record attendance. It is simply the greatest time in baseball history. And that's saying something with this sport. This year had it all, and in the end it had the team with the best record winning the world championship. Congrats again to the Red Sox. I was there for both of their sweeps, at St. Louis and at Colorado, and this one was just as sweet for them. My favorite memory will be of being in Cleveland's visitor's clubhouse at about 2 a.m. on getaway night after Game 5, and Manny is sitting there wearing a ridiculous purple tie and black pants, and Big Papi gets up from the couch next to him, walks around the media and comes back and says to him: "Why don't you tell them where the funeral is." Just being around Manny is funny.
Now it is time for the other marathon. The New York City Marathon. I am ready for my first 26.2. I just watched a commercial for it on NBC here in Manhattan, and that just got me a little nervous. I have been visualizing it, mainly by using this youtube video. One of my Team for Kids teammates posted the link on our site, and I think it is a great example of how today's technology lets an athlete visualize better than ever.
My goal is to finish between 4:30 and 5:45. I drained myself with a bug on the final weekend in Denver and am spending this final week replenishing, constantly hydrating, eating right. Starting tomorrow, I will begin carbing up. The TFK coaches have been incredible, all of them veterans of this event. I am also VERY proud to say that I raised over $2700 for Team for Kids, well over my required fundraising amount to run this year's marathon. Next year I am already guaranteed entry, and I already know that I will want to help a cause in pursuit of that one as well even if it's not required. It is one of the best things about being a runner, to me. I love running, and now I have a big, scary, incredible race about to happen.
I have been cranking my favorite training tune loud -- Nelly's Heart of a Champion. That's my theme for this one. I have learned to overcome so many things. I am looking forward to putting the new beginning and ending on my 210-page manuscript "Trees and Numbers" after I finish this marathon, or at least after I recover from it. Never have I seen a greater example of Trees and Numbers than this booming sport, where the Half-Marathon is now so common in small towns everywhere. I know that I have timed this one perfectly, this boom and this book audience. I am so excited about that, and my next big goal will be a bestseller in the next 18 months. But enough talk. It's time to run. Thank you all for spending a marathon season with me. Baseball is over, and now it's my other big event.
I am runner 26323 in the ING New York City Marathon.
Big day for me. First of all, I am about to head over to Chase Field here in Phoenix, Arizona, where it all gets started this Major League Baseball postseason. It will be the first of as many as 19 consecutive high-impact, nothing-like-it-anywhere games that I will work. It is the coolest job in the history of the world. I already have given several cards out to Cub fans who want to tell me their stories, and trust me, I will get to all of them sooner or later.
Now, here comes something else that is really big for me. There are 31 days until the ING New York City Marathon. I'm a soldja, mayne, I thought I toldja. Ima get me some marathon finish line smileyface action. It's my first 26.2. Back-to-back-to-back injuries (knee/back/plantar fasciitis) caint stop me, mayne, cuz it's the blood of a champ-eeeeon, I can feel my veins pumpin, it's the Heart of a Champ-eeee-on, baby deep inside I can feel my thon comin!
This morning I officially began my ME-DESIGNED Rocktober Postseason Final Kick Training Program. This is how I ROLL! Staying all month at road hotels (except for any possible Yankee World Series games, in which case I would be home), I am under way now on a cross-country, crosstraining regimen that will replace running until I go to Staten Island and line up with 37,000 others on Nov. 4. Here is what I did today in the nice fitness area at my Phoenix hotel:
- Active stretching in front of mirror, including all of the stretching that Master Rho taught me when I got my black belt in taekwondo. I decided to integrate that into my own final-month (and beyond) program, for more flexibility.
- One hour on exercise bike. Three intervals, 26, 20 and 14 minutes.
- 50 crunches, 22 leg lifts
- Lower-back exercises, side-to-sides, pelvic tilts, to continue to strengthen lumbar region, where my previous injury is now very healed
- 40 pushups
- Swimming pool: 40 laps in 25-yard pool, which I had all to myself as the sun was just up. Felt so good to just float with sun shining on my face
- Aquacise: Continuing to summon from my past, I remember those aquasize sessions they would do at our hotel in Cancun, Barbados, Maui, wherever. I tried to think of every possible move those instructors taught, and I applied my new favorite term in the whole world, gleaned from a Men's Fitness magazine I read on the plane: AMRAP. (As many reps as possible.)
- Hot tub. 20-foot-long, 10-foot wide outdoor jacuzzi. I massaged plantar fascii in right foot by moving it back and forth over one of the jets. Felt awesome.
That felt so great to get this going. I will do this whenever I am able and not sacrifice it, as spare time with MLB playoffs will get smaller and smaller.
Then I went up to my hotel room, put on some shorts, and had the hotel shuttle driver take me over to Safeway. Massive grocery store. I was a kid in a candy store. My goal is to not give in to the junk-food demons of October. Ours is a world of postgame parties filled with free beer and fat foods; box lunches at the ballgames with white-roll sandwiches and cookies and chips; ballpark dogs (that will be my hardest temptation; I'll have one maybe); etc. I am going to eat marathon food this month. I have to trim down some, because after I stopped running over a week ago and without any crosstraining capability until now, and being in my first year off smoking, you can imagine how fast you can add pounds. So here is a look at my hotel fridge that I just stocked up:
That pretty much says it all, but that's 6 light yogurts, a lean gourmet pasta, Gatorade, two of the most awesome meaty big tomatoes (I just ate one yum), red grapes, green grapes, organic celery hearts to take to ballpark, a bunch of baby carrots to take to ballpark, one ripe avocado, one quarter watermelon, four navel oranges from Australia (Cali is out of season according to the produce manager), bananas, a Caesar salad bag, plastic bowls, and a set of plastic silverware. Whatever I don't eat here goes with me to Chicago this weekend.
And guess what else? I fly to Chicago Friday for travel day. Sunday is the Lasalle Chicago Marathon, and Saturday is the Expo for that at McCormick Place, where we held our FanFest during the All-Star Game there in 2003. I am going to the Expo, and will pick up some running stuff and just soak it all up. I want to feel the energy of all those runners who will be there for this. That'll be me soon.
OK, I'm off to the ballpark. This is what it looks like. I took this picture while the Cubs were taking BP during Workout Day here on Tuesday. There is bunting everywhere around Chase Field. This is part of the concourse behind the right field home run seats. Whenever you see bunting, you know it is a truly big event and I'm probably coming to your town!
One last thing: I took this video with my Canon Powershot A540 on Tuesday during Workout Day. This is what a Derrek Lee home run sounds and looks like when I'm the only one in the stands. CRASH!
Only 39 days till the ING New York City Marathon. Plantar fasciitis in my right foot is the third consecutive injury I have dealt with in rapid-fire succession. Today was my fourth "rehab run" and after five miles the pain was too much to run through. Have decided to once again shut it down for a couple of weeks, and fortunately I will have access to hotel health clubs everywhere I go because . . . .
It's time for some October baseball! We're in the final days of deciding the postseason berths after the most historic, spectacular regular season in the history of Major League Baseball. (My MLB.com article here.). We have had more major milestones than ever (by a mile). There was even that day when Frank Thomas hit his 500th, followed at night by Craig Biggio's truly unforgettable 5-for-5 performance that included hit No. 3,000. Tom Glavine got his 300th win and Roger Clemens his 350th. A-Rod and Jim Thome joined the 500 HR Club. Sammy Sosa hit his 600th (Junior Griffey will do it next spring, when Manny gets his 500th). Trevor Hoffman became the first pitcher to reach 500 saves.
And, of course, there was the chase that resulted in a new home run king and a change of the guard for the most hallowed individual record in any sport, professional or amateur. Maybe you hated it, maybe you loved it, and maybe you tried to be indifferent. But you were probably watching when Barry Bonds cranked No. 756 in August, and when that classy video message from dethroned Hank Aaron came over the AT&T Park scoreboard.
Is there any doubt that October will likewise be something truly out of the ordinary? Could this be the year that the Chicago Cubs not only reach their first World Series since 1945 . . . but also WIN their first world championship since 1908? They still have to take care of business this week first. Will the Yankees finally regain their royalty and win No. 27? Will Cleveland win it all for the first time since 1948? How about a Mets-Red Sox reunion from 1986? And how about my Rockies? I predicted on MLB.com in March that they would go to the World Series. I am pretty sure I am about the only one who predicted that in the civilized world. To me, it was a great young core that was going to come together. They are sure doing that now. (For full disclosure, I also predicted they would face Texas.)
I'll be working the postseason, and as I said, fortunately I'll be able to use hotel health club facilities the whole time -- exercise bike, elliptical, swimming, etc. So I will shut down running for up to two weeks again and keep up my fitness. I am registered for the ING New York City Marathon 18-mile Tuneup this Sunday at Central Park, but it looks like I will just forfeit my $20 entry fee because it's just not that important as I listen to my body. My first marathon approaches fast, and fortunately we are up to $2,134 raised for TEAM FOR KIDS thanks to my friends here and elsewhere. Please click here if you would like to help me make a difference to give a running start to many needy children and donate to this very important cause (my entry number is 94714 and last name is Newman). Any amount is welcome, and maybe you would like to donate $1 per mile -- it would be $26.20 and I promise you would feel GREAT about it.
This is going to be one unbelievable, crowded, busy, amazing October, carrying right over to a November 4 date with destiny that I will somehow finish despite these injuries. And then after that, the completion of my work of a lifetime, "Trees and Numbers," providing a beginning and an ending to the current 210-page manuscript.
That's my life right now.
Yes, this is The Marathon Season.
That's how long until the ING New York City Marathon according to their website. I am in my own little private bootcamp now and Central Park is my private Olympic training center. After 11 days on the DL due to the lower right back/right hip injury caused two nights before the Nike Half, I cleared myself to resume training (three days before the doctor said OK) and am back "in the game." I ran six miles around the park on Saturday morning and was pain-free, which was a huge relief. I thought about entering that morning McDonald's Fitness 4M run with thousands of others, but instead I ran against the grain and watched them, focusing only on my marathon prep. I had some discomfort in my right arch area while running, as I was just unused to my Asics after 11 days off. That resulted in a bruised right arch, so I iced a lot, rested it Sunday, and then this morning I went back and ran five miles on the Lower 5 loop. It was OK, some pain in the last mile and kind of sore now. But compared to the back/hip injury, this is nothing. That's 11 miles in three days, which is a good start getting back on track. I have fallen behind quite a bit and the jury is out on whether I will enter Saturday's NYC Marathon Long Training Run #2 at Central Park, which is anywhere from 6 to 20 miles depending on your preference. My Team for Kids teammates will be running 18 at least. I won't be up for that yet, even though I ran a comfortable 16 a few weeks ago. Lost too much fitness in those 11 days. I'll get there. I am focused. My gameface is on. I'm doing ab work with an exercise ball at home, as well as on the grass off the running path, and I'm back to doing park bench push-ups front/reverse. Lots of stretching. Lots of sweating. Biggest obstacle is controlling my calorie intake, wanting to eat everything in sight because I am working up an appetite. Any members of the "Foodies" group here, I included this post because I welcome anyone's thoughts as I really need to guard myself against overeating and want to lose about 10. I'm drinking over 100 oz water a day, eating chicken, brown rice, too much pasta, too much buttered wheat bread, too many peanuts, etc. Some good, some bad. I'm glad I got the buzzcut, feels great to run and sweat and just pour water over my head and rub it off. Time to run.
Thanks to anyone who has chosen to donate to Team for Kids as a way of supporting my first marathon! I am up to $1,980 I believe, and my required fundraising total is $2500. So I'm getting there, and I am relying on my friends and family and colleagues to help that great cause and make a difference with me. I also encourage anyone who is in the New York City area on November 4 to come on out and cheer! It's going to be an unreal scene. I think about it all the time and keep looking at the course map and videos of past NYC Marathons and everything I am supposed to know. Meanwhile, I am baseball around the clock, and the most historic season in Major League Baseball history is about to have another unbelievably wild finish with a spectacular October. What a life right now...this is crazy.
Just don't let it be a World Series Game 7 on Nov. 1 in Anaheim! I'll need some rest!
Mark
Today is the nine month anniversary of one of the six biggest changes of my life. (The others would include puberty, going out into the real world, marriage/parenting, the tech gold rush, and divorce). This has been a wonderful change. On Dec. 1, 2006, I moved to the Upper West Side of Manhattan and broke a box of Kools in half. I had smoked for 4-5 years. I joined New York Road Runners, bought some Asics, started entering races, and now I am one of the 35,000+ entrants in the NYC Marathon in 63 days and 13 hours. And I have a head to prove it, fresh from a buzz cut to psyche myself up and "shave down" for an incredible event.
There are still some things in my life I would like to change, but whenever things don't seem perfect, it feels good to remind myself of what I was doing before Dec. 1. On a typical day, I would wake up and think about running or going to the gym, and instead I would smoke the first cigarette. And then it was all over. "What's the use" was the typical catch-phrase. It seemed kind of pointless to work out when I was smoking. I don't want to nag at anyone else who does smoke, either. One thing I hated was the anti-smoking gestapo, including the knee-jerk legislators who discovered that the easiest way to get a bulk of constituents on their side was to move smokers everywhere out into the cold streets and make them pariahs, state by state. Give me a break. People have to learn for themselves and no two people are alike. I will always have some kind of bad habit or two. In fact, I hope I always do. This is probably one right here, typing on myspace. Sometimes, anyway. It seems like a healthy habit to me, though. I'm not a bar drinking and smoking. And after the NYC Marathon is over, I am going to reference all of my past blogs here as I type the new beginning and ending for "Trees and Numbers." Which is my brass ring now.
For me, this Labor Day Weekend is my own time to take stock of where I'm come since that seminal change in my life. And it's my own time to take a deep breath in this Calm Before The Storm and look at what's ahead. I am reading Denzel Washington's "A Hand To Guide Me: Legends and Leaders Celebrate The People Who Shaped Their Lives" just for some extra inspiration! Here goes:
The Two-Month Power Ride
Sept. 1: This means that it has been nine months since I quit smoking. I don't have any urge ever to smoke and I like to drink water and snack on grapes and peanuts or whatever. It also means that Major League rosters expanded today, and that there is one full month of jaw-dropping, unforgettable pennant race fever from San Diego to Boston, from Seattle to Atlanta. I'm in the middle of it all, and every day between now and the marathon will be more busy.
Sept. 15 and 23: The 15th is the NYC Marathon Long Training Run 2, which will be 18 miles at Central Park. My lower right back and hip have to be up for that one. The 23rd is the fourth of five legs in the 2007-long NYRR Half-Marathon Grand Prix series. This one will be through Queens. I have run the Manhattan (January) and Brooklyn (April) legs of this, and I would like to run Queens and then Staten Island (October) so I can have guaranteed entry into next year's Nike Half. I doubt I will make Staten Island due to playoffs.
Sept. 30/Oct. 1: The 30th is the final day of the regular season, and at that point I am working around the clock virtually until the world champion is crowned nearly a month later. At this point I will be trying to juggle maximum NYC Marathon training with the busiest of possible schedules. It is going to be an absolute adventure, but I am determined to make room for training. Sept. 29 is the Continental Fifth Avenue Mile, and I plan to be there.
Oct. 14: This is the NYRR Half-Marathon Grand Prix: Staten Island. I will be there only one of the two New York teams are in the playoffs....and if I am assigned to work one of those series. Could happen. Not holding my breath about making this one. At this point I should be firmly in travel hell thanks to possible rainouts and series length uncertainty. Either way, it would be a NYC Marathon long training run that day, so I will run something.
Oct. 23: This is the first day of the World Series, so I will be in whatever American League city hosts the opener. Actually I will be there on the 22nd. It will be an AL opener because the AL won the All-Star Game, hence home-field advantage in the World Series. In a perfect world for me, the Yankees will be that team, and Boston as the next-best scenario. Why? Because this year the World Series starts later than usual, and if there is a Game 7, then it will be played on Nov. 1 (and perhaps Nov. 2 if there's a rainout). Remember that the NYC Marathon is on Nov. 4. I will be getting up at 3 a.m. on Nov. 4. The worst-case scenario for me is a Game 7 in Anaheim (Angels), then a full day of travel, jet lag galore, and trying to prepare for my first-ever marathon...not having had a day off this entire past month. So I am rooting for a four-game World Series sweep, or at least a Game 6 or Game 7 in New York. The good thing is, I will be tapering down at the same time as the World Series, which will be my busiest time of the entire calendar year. So it could work out great; it could be a nightmare.
Nov. 4: The 2007 ING New York City Marathon. Some days I am confident. Some days I am nervous. That nervous energy will drive me. Once we cross the first bridge and the pack finally begins to thin enough to stride, I will stay within myself and not try to run fast. I am going to run a smart first marathon. I am going to enjoy all 26.2 miles, because it will be the biggest day of my life next to the births of Matthew, Benjamin and Joshua. I can't believe it's this close.
It is not going to be easy, and that is why I have been so freaked out about this injury and being told to take two weeks off running by the doctor. I will be cramming everything in during two of the most intense months of my life. This will be my entire focus in life: Doing my job better than ever (which is more important than anything to me: Constant and Never-Ending Improvement!), and preparing for and then finishing an actual marathon.
So here goes. Nine months are in the books. I've learned a lot about being a runner. I've learned a lot about my body. I've learned a lot about my mind. I've learned that you can easily quit smoking just by quitting...and drinking a ton of water and snacking on celery, nuts, grapes, etc. I need to lose more weight. I need to tighten my core. I need to wake up able to easily move around. I need to rebuild endurance. Mayne, I need Nelly singing "Heart Of A Champion" around the clock inside my ears. I need all the stars to align. I need some blessing from God and a push on the back from my Dad up there. I need to remember those Tony Robbins CDs that I used to listen to over and over, especially the part where he says to "chunk it" -- break massive challenges up into smaller and doable chunks, especially once I get to that starting line in Staten Island on Nov. 4. And I also need to remember what he always said to ask yourself:
Who are you really?
I am Mark.
A non-smoker for 9 months now.
A humble runner and NYC Marathon entrant.
A dad.
A son.
A brother.
A friend.
A fighter.
A writer.
A professional.
A dater.
A doer.
A leader.
A rapper. (Ha!)
A juggler.
A giver.
A Motrin-taker.
An adventurer.
A mistake-maker.
A sports nut.
An arts lover.
A learner.
A goofball.
A Hoosier.
An athlete with an iPod.
It has been a great 9 months. Now there is a lot more to do and it's coming fast. Don't forget that you can still sponsor my run in the NYC Marathon. I have raised $1,938 toward my required goal of $2,500 for Team for Kids. Thank you to anyone here who has already joined our cause!!! The information is in the previous post, and I'd love to have you join us! Meanwhile, I wish everyone a great Labor Day Weekend if here in the U.S., and best wishes always.
Team for Kids Donation Form | Entry 94714 | Newman
Dear all my awesome friends:
Have you ever wondered what you can do to make a difference?
I did, and I found a way: I'm running the ING New York City Marathon 2007 as a member of Team for Kids.
In the past five years, Team for Kids members have raised more than $5 million to support running-based fitness and goal-setting programs for 25,000 schoolchildren a week in New York, San Francisco, Washington DC, Tampa, Tennessee, and South Africa. These classes target at-risk kids -- most of whom don't have physical education in their schools.
You can ensure that more kids benefit from NYRR's youth services by sponsoring my run. You can pledge $1.00 for every mile I run ($26.2 total) or donate any flat amount. All contributions are tax deductible and will be acknowledged as such in a letter to you from Team for Kids.
Most importantly, all contributions will go toward helping kids lead healthier, more productive lives. The New York Road Runner youth services programs teach goal-setting, nutrition, fitness and running skills. Knowing how to make physical fitness a habit can reduce the risk of diabetes, obesity, heart disease, and other costly diseases in this population.
Thanks in advance if you would consider helping me -- and thousands of schoolchildren. As a father of three boys who has raised his sons in athletics and is ACTUALLY GETTING TRAINING TIPS FROM THEM (!), I am so, so, so proud to be able to help them and to give YOU this opportunity to help them. It is going to feel TWICE as good to cross the finish line at Central Park after running through five boroughs that Sunday morning on NBC, a few days after I return from working the World Series for MLB. You can help make this happen. I am required to raise $2,500 by the November 4 marathon, and half of that total by late July.
Again, the donation form is right here. If you are kind enough to donate any amount to this cause, please note that you will need my race entry number (94714) and last name (Newman) to do so.
For anyone wishing to donate via regular mail, please make checks payable in US dollars to: New York Road Runners Foundation. The mailing address for that is:
NYRR Foundation Team for Kids
845 Third Avenue, 11th floor
New York, NY 10022
I also have a PDF file of a Donation Card for anyone desiring that, and could send that via email. But the online donation form is definitely preferable.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Your friend,
Mark
