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New York City Marathon #68

I LOVE New York City. Any excuse to visit is great, but running the NYC Marathon makes it truly epic.


Arrival and Expo


We took the train to NYC on Saturday morning. Unlike last year’s drive to the train station in pouring rain, this year was smooth and stress-free. The train was even 10 minutes late, giving us time to relax. We arrived at Grand Central early, with plans to run in Central Park before the expo. However, I forgot to pack running tights, and it was too chilly. Instead, we dropped our bags at the hotel and headed to the expo.


Jeanne Corey Marchand, New York City Marathon, 2019 - Jeanne Runs

This year’s expo was surprisingly low-key. There were no metal detectors or visible security like previous years, which meant minimal lines. At bib pick-up, we bumped into our friend Doug Benedetto (#nomeatathlete). After grabbing our bibs and t-shirts and snapping a few photos, we explored the New Balance retail section. Thankfully, nothing caught my eye—a relief for my wallet.


We wandered through vendor booths, sampling honey stinger waffles, UCAN, and NUUN while being cautious not to upset our stomachs before race day. We ran into several familiar faces, including Almi, a San Francisco ambassador who’s running while pregnant—amazing! We also saw our friend John Williams, running for “Race for Chase.”



As we left the expo, we ran into Michelle, a fellow runner we’d met during a previous NYC visit. After a quick selfie, we headed out for lunch and then enjoyed a relaxing evening at the Residence Inn near Bryant Park. The hotel’s proximity to the race bus pick-up point and its kitchen amenities were perfect, though the coffee left much to be desired.


Pre-Race


I set the alarm for 4:30 a.m., but nightmares about oversleeping had me awake and nervous early. We got ready, made peanut butter & jelly sandwiches, and walked to Bryant Park for the bus. The NYC Marathon’s logistics are impressively streamlined, and we were on a bus within 15 minutes. While the driver’s speed made me nervous, I resisted the urge to ask him to slow down.


At the athlete’s village, we grabbed Dunkin’ hats, coffee, and bagels before settling near our corral. Wrapped in heat shields, we saw runners in everything from bunny costumes to bathrobes. One woman’s stick-on heating pads inspired me to try them for future cold races.


The Race


The start was electrifying. The cannon boomed (startling me every time), parachuters descended with smoke trails, and Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” filled the air. Running the lower level of the Verrazano Bridge was magical, with tugboats spraying water and helicopters hovering overhead. The excitement pushed me to a 7:31 pace at mile two—too fast—so I reined it in.


Brooklyn was a highlight, with narrow streets, lively crowds, and incredible music on every corner. Kim had added “JEAN” to my shirt, and the cheers of “Go Jean” and “Where’s the beef?” (from his “TEAM BEEF” shirt) were constant motivators. My advice: always put your name on your shirt. The crowd’s energy can lift you when you’re struggling.


I loved running through Williamsburg and over the Queensboro Bridge. The inclines were tough, but the energy from the crowds was unparalleled. Funny signs, costumes, cowbells, and chants created an atmosphere that gave me goosebumps.


The Finish


The final stretch through Central Park’s hilly terrain was brutal, but crossing the finish line brought an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. Volunteers congratulated us, and the walk to get our warm ponchos felt endless. Heading to the subway afterward was painful—those stairs were no joke—and stepping back into the cold only made it worse. But finally reaching the hotel and taking a warm shower was bliss.


Post-Race Celebration


We met friends for dinner at Parker & Quinn, where the atmosphere was filled with post-race pride. Nearly every diner wore a marathon shirt and medal. I indulged in a cheeseburger and a glass of cabernet—the best meal of my life (because post-marathon meals always are).


Reflections


The next morning, reality set in. As I wore my race shirt to breakfast, a stranger approached to say, “Congratulations.” I smiled and thought, “I love New York.” I can’t wait to return next year for the marathon’s 50th anniversary!



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