...and Two Makes Nine

The 2012 New York marathon is still 130 days away, but on Sunday I qualified for 2013 marathon by running my 9th NYRR race of the year. (I sure hope I like the marathon the first time I run it...) On Saturday I ran a five-miler and followed it up with another on Sunday, meaning two early mornings in a row and tired legs to boot. In honor of Pride Week, the first race was organized by the New York Front Runners, a GLBT running club and athletic organization. I ran this race last year and it was one of my favorites; there's tons of support from some very colorful characters on the sidelines, and the Front Runners do a great job of coordinating everything. Upon registering, I got a fashionable t-shirt (or, rather, Ed did; they were out of sizes that would fit me) plus a bag made from biodegradable tapioca root and filled with coupons, samples, and goodies. After the race, there were lots of booths set up, and I assume the usual drag queens were on hand to distribute awards and announce the raffle winners, though I took off right after finishing to get ready for our supper club that evening. It was a mellow, fun race, which I took at an easy pace and enjoyed.

I got up early again on Sunday morning and headed back to the park for the Achilles Hope and Possibility Race. I couldn't even remember whom this race was supposed to be benefiting, but it became clear as I neared the starting corral and began to see wheelchairs and t-shirts advertising prosthetic limbs. I jogged past two women pushing adult-sized wheelchairs, each containing several children. One was talking about going to "watch daddy," and so I assume the husband/father had handed off his everyday wheelchair in favor of one of the sleeker, sporty models. 


This race felt like a combination between a standard road race, the Special Olympics, and the Paralympics. Ten minutes before able bodied runners were scheduled to start, the wheelchair competitors took off. Then we were greeted by surprise guest Jon Stewart, who cheerfully told us he was going to kick all of our asses. And then we were off, too. I was glad I had decided to take this one at a gentle pace, because racing it would have been just about impossible. There was the usual early race gridlock, but this was compounded by the fact that able-bodied runners were frantically dodging participants with all manner of disabilities who were moving more slowly. Some, both adults and children, were blind and were jogging just behind their guide runners. Some were being pushed at either a walk or a jog in their wheelchairs. Some rode in their chairs backward and helped push off with their feet. I saw runners missing one or both legs, and several people crutching along at a pace that would have terrified me if I'd been in their shoes. After the first two miles, I'd passed most of the participants whose mobility was severely compromised and things thinned out, so I began to concentrate more on trying to spot Jon Stewart. (No luck.) I did, however, see a lot of pretty inspiring things. A little after mile 4, for example, I passed two kids running in single file. The girl was probably 9 and the boy looked 7, and both were missing a leg. I don't know many 9- or 7-year-olds who could run 5 miles, period, let alone on a prosthetic leg, which takes far more energy than running on two legs of your own. I was astonished that it had taken me so long to catch up to them, too. I never caught up to the serious wheelchair athletes, many of whom were war vets, even at a fairly brisk pace and with all my body parts in working order. 

The illusive Jon Stewart

I will definitely do this race again next year. For one thing, I loved seeing the determination of all these athletes who, as one supporter's sign said, both "rock[ed] and roll[ed]." For another, this thing seems to be a magnet for celebrities. Jon Stewart has attended for the last two years, and Prince Harry participated in 2010.