Mile 1

"Five flat. Five o' one. Five o' two," they yelled at mile one. The race clock wasn't ticking as we crossed through the first mile. That's fine. There's no shortage of people with watches who want to tell a runner how fast or slow they're going. Let me back up. 5:02 isn't first-mile pace for a marathon. It was the Sunset & Suns 5K Run last Thursday (August 26th). This was a test of fitness, a prelude, and an opportunity to drink all the beer I could stomach for $25.

So yeah, not the same as running over the Verazanno Bridge after huddling with the masses on a November morning, but I like starting small. Like just under 150 people small. The race was put on by Urban Athletics, the New York Harriers, and brought to us by the good people at Mizuno and P. D. O'Hurley's.  

It's been a while since I ran a 5k, almost  a year now, and that was on the grass.  I knew it was a true distance because Jerry, one of the minds behind Urban, measured it twice the day before. So beforehand, I got my number, donned my UA singlet, warmed up with some pain in my right leg hoping that it would go away, and lined up. My goal: 15:30 or below. 

That guy on my left shoulder was sort of like the pain in my right leg. He just would not go away. For some reason, after the gun went off, I went out and around the avenue with this guy and my leg nagging.  Everything else was right. The temperature. The trees and the sun mixing. A fun, track-like course. 

Mile two went a lot like mile one. "Ten o' seven, Ten o' eight, Ten o' nine." The guy on my left has passed me once and backed off. I'm getting used and we both know it, but that's what smart runners do. Or at least that's what I'd do if I weren't running for time. Mile three had an inverse effect from mile one. 

The paradox about marathon training is that you are always tired, feel like someone went over your legs with a Louisville Slugger, but aerobically you keep moving at the same pace. You can see it in my eyes up there at mile one. I'm thinking, "Yeah, I know I'm going to regret this," but then that look doesn't go away. Now, here's the money shot. What you can't see is that I'm watching the other guy pull away, and I've stopped feeling my right leg. So this is really more of a helpless look. That's the kind of look I want to eradicate from my repertoire before the marathon.

How do you get a face like that?

Most runners have been there before, but in trying to break the other guy I also knew with near certainty that I would go ahead and break myself.  So that's me breaking. About a half mile before this point I threw in three quick surges. I pulled away three times. He pulled me back in three times. I don't mind getting beat in this fashion because I'm doing what I can and there's nothing left. Plus, look at the background. This course was a great place to run and we surged past the riverfront, past people sipping beer at the cafe, and around the park benches with the sun peeking through the trees.  Was I happy? That's what people ask you after a race. I shrug. Sure. 15:51. This was a PR for running on one leg. I still have to figure out that other guy's name. My leg feels as if someone is running an iron over it on steam during my three-mile cool-down. Then I pick up my beer mug, which I received for entering the race, and head for the keg. This was a soft opening. Thankfully. At the NYC Marathon, no one will be standing at the 5k with a beer mug for me. In the marathon mile one, as this race demonstrated on a smaller scale, is where honestly knowing what you're capable of will be the most important.

Warm UP

I've signed up for the local marathon. It's a 26.2 mile race through the five boroughs of this city.

http://www.ingnycmarathon.org/

This is Me. Peter Derby.

photo courtesy of Sue Pearsall

My first race was in third grade. My parents had four boys. I was the third of four, and I started running when their fiscal strategy to cut back on babysitters began to include bringing us to local 5ks. Now I'm trying to run the ING NYC Marathon.

Here are my brothers and myself, bottom left pocket, back then:

You get the picture.  Marathon Derby is an attempt to put all those years of babysitting fees to use. In many ways, not a lot has changed since then. (Not sure your strategy paid off, Mom.)

This is where I work, a running specialty store, Urban Athletics. 

http://www.urbanathleticsnyc.com/about.html

When the owners, Jerry and Cara,  say, "a home for runners, where they need one," they really mean it. Jerry found me back in February. I was drinking cup after cup of coffee at the burger joint around the corner, Jackson Hole. I was writing "unemployed writer / runner" on a piece of cardboard with a Sharpie when Jerry sat down at my table. The rest is history in the making. 

Since Urban Athletics (UA) is my running home, I will also make it the starting point for most of my runs. Generally I go from 2 World Financial Center where the Downtown UA is located, while other runs will start from the 92nd and Madison location closer to Central Park and closest to the home of the 7 oz. burger at Jackson Hole (http://www.jacksonholeburgers.com/).

Over the next 73 days, till the start of the NYC Marathon, I'll write 26.2 entries to explore the "necessary" elements of training. I'll also log my mileage, try to take my own advice, and talk about running. Recently, I received my United States Track & Field (USATF) Level 1 Coaching Certification.  Since this is my virgin voyage into marathon running, I'll also explore apparel and products related to the NYC Marathon. And I'll be trying to figure just what it is I've gotten myself into and will have regular contributions from marathon correspondents of all levels. Tomorrow is mile 1.