It’s hard to know where to begin with my 2023 NYC Marathon race report because the level of EPICness was off the charts. I’ll just start by telling you that my facial muscles are still recovering from smiling and laughing so much. This race was an absolute hoot from start to finish, even when my legs were screaming. 

Let’s start at the beginning though. I flew in to New York with my husband and daughter Thursday afternoon after starting our days at 3:30 am in Santa Barbara (Jeffrey and me) and San Francisco (Olivia). My awesome decades-long friend/college BFF/running partner, Janet Cook, arrived later that evening from Hood River, OR. 

Friday morning Janet and I hopped on a subway to the Jacob Javits Center, where we picked up our race bibs and immersed ourselves in all things marathon. The flurry of positive vibes hit us the moment we walked into the convention center. You could feel the joy, excitement, and nerves, as well as a large dose of mutual admiration, swirling together as each of us knew how much we had put into getting to this weekend, and how lucky we were to finally be here.

In addition to the many photo ops, vendors, and speakers, there was an overwhelming amount of merch for sale, which sucked us in for far too long. We left walloped, but giddy, ready to finally get this party started! 

Saturday Janet and I went on a shake-out run through Central Park on a classic, crisp autumn morning. We couldn’t get over our luck with the perfect weather, especially since it had rained every single weekend for over two months straight. A USATF 5k Championship race was taking place while we were there, with multitudes of runners and walkers blazing through the park, which only added to the charged atmosphere. As Janet and I stopped to take one of our many selfies along the way, a runner wearing a chicken costume photo bombed us, which sent us totally over the edge. So classic. 

Saturday evening, after cruising around the city with my family far more than anyone would recommend the day before a big race, Janet and I met up to go over our race gear, fuel, and logistics. We got it all dialed in, and in the process, my laugh muscles got a massive workout as Janet tried to figure out how she was going to carry all her fuel during this race, momentarily opting for the “vending machine” look. OMG this chica has a future in stand-up.

RACE DAY: Sunday morning arrived in a blink, with our Lyft driver arriving at 5:15 to take us to our private Team for Kids ferry, which would then take us to Staten Island. When we arrived at the dock, we were greeted by our fabulous teammates as well a beautiful sunrise, reinforcing that indeed, it really was our day. Everything felt perfect. Our ferry even cruised right past the Statue of Liberty on the way.

Once on Staten Island our team was guided to buses, which took us to Fort Wadsworth military installation a few miles away. This is where we would station ourselves until we lined up for the start of the race on the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge. Our bus driver, Vinny, had driven runners to the start of this marathon for the past 20 years, which earned him a rousing round of applause from our bus full of appreciative athletes.

When we arrived at Fort Wadsworth we were led to the private Team for Kids tent area, complete with food, drinks, heat, fantastic volunteers, and porta-potties exclusively for our team—a huge amenity with 51,000+ runners. Inside our designated area we ate, stretched, hung out, took pictures, got our gear just right, peeled off our warm clothes and placed them in donation boxes. Then we warmed up and mentally prepared ourselves to run 26.2 miles.

I wrote DAD on my hand, just like I did 25 years ago when I ran this race in honor of him. Once again, I would honor him, and focus on some of his last words to me: “You are a tough bird.” He would be tickled that I was still loving life and chasing after it all at 57, when his life was cut short by cancer at 51. I also wrote the names of my #1 Support Crew (aka my husband, Jeffrey, and daughter, Olivia), who have always been there for me on every crazy adventure, and who sacrifice a lot so I can train and do special events like this. I knew I would be leaning on their love and support to help carry me through. Thank you, dear peeps.

In no time, it was our turn to queue up for the start of the race. Helicopters hovered overhead and a Jumbotron live streamed the elite runners who were sprinting the entire marathon–an awe-inspiring sight, which got us even more fired up. We were placed in a special Team for Kids corral inside the Pink Wave 2 group. When Janet and I saw that our corral was with the 3:45 finishers we simultaneously howled and got nauseous.

As we all began moving toward the starting line on the bridge, heart-pumping music pulsed through the air. Adrenaline surged. Butterflies got busy. Then came a beautiful rendition of the national anthem sung by a fellow runner, followed by the announcer’s “radio party voice:”

“All right Wave #2 I want them to hear you in Brooklyn this morning! LET’S WAKE UP THE NEIGHBORS!!!” to which we hooted and hollered.

“A sea of humanity from New York City awaits you, runners! Enjoy every step of your marathon journey!

“Wave #2, on your mark”……BOOM…the cannon exploded, signaling the start of our journey through the five boroughs of New York. Frank Sinatra’s New York, New York began wafting through the air, which instantly produced a lump in my throat.

“Oh shit!” the young woman squealed behind us, like she was momentarily terrified and still in denial that this was actually happening.

Janet and I hugged, screamed, laughed, high-five, then began shuffling with the crowd until we could eventually ease into a nice warm-up run pace heading over the bridge toward Brooklyn. “Oh my god, we’re doing this!!!!! We are moving, we are moving,” we joked in our best Eddie Murphy Coming to America voices. (IYKYK).

As it turned out, there was no need for our prior pseudo-freakout about being placed in the 3:45 pace group because there was quickly plenty of room for everyone to spread so there was little chance of being trampled or slowing anyone down. Team for Kids knows what it’s doing.

My only disappointment in this entire race was that our corral ran on the bottom span of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge instead of over the iconic top span, which I was hoping Janet could experience, like I had when I ran my first three races here. With 51,000+ runners though, you win some and you lose some. It was a minuscule detail in the grand scheme of our awesome day, and we were appreciative of how flawless this event was run, and especially blown away by Team for Kids, who took care of us with their extraordinary hospitality, organization, and attention to every detail. The silver lining of running on the lower span was that our legs saved a tiny bit of energy because it has a smaller incline than the top. Either way, the start of the race gets your heart pumping right away. Fortunately, it’s only for about a mile, and then you quickly start descending.

As we were coming down across the bridge and heading into Brooklyn we both knew we were running too fast so we slowed down, reminding ourselves we had a long day ahead of us. 

It wasn’t long before Brooklyn’s massive “street party” wrapped its raucous arms around us. It was block after block, mile after mile of nonstop support. All of our senses were bombarded with people clapping, cheering, hooting and hollering, clanking cowbells, tooting horns, and banging pans and buckets. Large party poppers exploded, launching confetti into the air. People held clever, and often hysterically off-color signs, and handed out everything from oranges, pretzels, and drinks to napkins and an assortment of candy options. Bands played rocking music, dancers shook their groove thing, spectators called out our names as if we were their best friends. “Go Becky! Go JC! You’re looking strong!” “Yeah ladies, power on!”

The energy bouncing back and forth between runners and spectators was intoxicating. Every kind of person showed up. Families. Young people. Old people. Stylish people. Sporty people. College kids drinking and celebrating their dizzying Brooklyn race day tradition. Costumed people (a giant pickle being one of my favs). People peacefully making political statements. Languages from near and far and beautiful skin tones to match. The love, energy, and untold smiles we received from Brooklyn launched us right up into Queens. Pure magic.

I was having so much fun mixing it up with the crowd, high-fiving rows of kids, hitting nearly every sign that said, “Tap here to Power Up,” encouraging the crowd to chant Janet’s nickname: “JC, JC, JC”, and telling them it was her first marathon, and witnessing her reaction to the magic of this day, I have to admit I took my eye off the my fuel and hydration. It was also rapidly heating up from 54 degrees to 61 degrees, and I was already sweating buckets. I should have been downing a ton of electrolytes and salt chews in between deeply reveling in the joy of it all. But…Alas.

My quads felt it first. Oh oh. Then my calves got twingy and thought about getting grumpy. Just before we hit the half-way point on the Pulaski Bridge, I pounded my Nuun electrolytes again, another SIS gel, and a salted watermelon chew, then threw a prayer up to the heavens that it wouldn’t get any worse.

Then we reached the Queensboro Bridge, which is long and devoid of spectators. Janet said a mantra out loud, “Run the mile you’re in.” So perfect. “Just keep moving forward,” I repeated to myself as we worked our way up the incline. Then I chirped, “We like hills, we eat them up. We like hills, we never give up.”

We were right on pace to reach a sub-5 hour finish, which is what Janet was quietly hoping for after both of us having to adjust our training many times due to injuries and bumps along the way. I had zero expectations for a finish time. My only goal was to soak up the joy and madness of this crazy marathon again after 25 years, and celebrate Janet’s first marathon, but I 1000% wanted Janet to reach her goal, no matter what. 

Coming off the quiet and challenging Queensboro Bridge just past Mile 16, and turning onto the cacophony of 1st Avenue lifted our spirits ten feet off the ground. Throngs of spectators instantly took our minds off our bodies with their chanting, cowbell’ing, and hooting and hollering, and boy was I happy about that because my legs were getting loud and sassy.

One of the most remarkable moments came when Janet somehow, in the midst of thousands of spectators, spotted her friend Chrissie, who had flown to NY to cheer her on. I still don’t know how she saw her, but what a fun moment for all! I was thrilled I happened to have my camera out right then.

My support crew had initially planned to go near the same area, but got stuck in the maze of barriers in Central Park. They could see us on the live stream in the park though, and snapped this fun photo of us as we continued our way up 1st Avenue in Queens, heading toward The Bronx.

When we reached our fourth bridge of the day, the Willis, at Mile 20, I could see in Janet’s gait and body language that she was feeling strong, and could definitely do more, so I insisted she take off so she could reach her goal. She was hesitant, not wanting to abandon me, but I was adamant. “This may be the only marathon you ever do in your entire life. You go and see what you can do. GO CRUSH IT!!!” With that, she picked up her pace, and I happily continued on solo, knowing she would reach her goal. She is the epitome of grit. Remember, this is the woman who broke ribs on both sides of her body while windfoiling just a few short months ago, then got right back at training as soon as she could breathe semi-deeply again.

The last 6 miles were what you might expect, especially when my longest training run was only 18 miles for this race. It simply came down to mind over matter.

What’s an extra 6.2 miles? You’ve done this many times before, I reminded myself. You know how to finish.

I counted steps…1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8…1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8…focused on what felt strong at the moment (that was difficult to ascertain – haha), thought about my dad, and also thought about all my Team for Kids supporters who generously donated to this awesome organization. Our team raised 7 million dollars during this event! Then I thought about all the little kids who would likely grow up to run this remarkable race themselves.

I continued to soak up the energy of the crowd who constantly called out my name and propelled me to the next aid station. I thanked volunteers profusely, just like I had throughout the entire race, because this event would be half of what it is without them. Such heroes.

At mile 23, a volunteer shrieked, “Hey, my name is Becky too!! Do you want a banana?” That received a big high-five and a, “Hell yes!” from me. Cheers to you, Becky! That banana and your joyful energy were just what I needed.

Between mile 24 and 25 it felt like people were dropping like flies. One guy on my right suddenly tripped, and in a shocked, adrenaline-induced moment somehow popped right back up, only to realize he may have broken his ankle. Poor guy. Argh. Not much farther up the road, I came across another warrior, a guy from Texas, whom Janet and I had been running with in Brooklyn, laying on his back with one leg in the air as another runner tried to press his foot back to release the cramp in his calf. Some were staggering. Others were limping and grunting.

“Just keep moving forward,” I told myself.

Then suddenly out of nowhere, I heard my people cheering for me!! OMG, where did they come from? I was expecting to see them in the grandstands at the finish line, but this was even better! What a wonderful moment seeing their smiling faces on Central Park South! Olivia was jumping up and down and screaming, “Go Mom!!!!” and Jeffrey was doing his crazy soccer announcer voice, “Go Beeckyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!! You got this Beeeeeeeeee!!!!” I didn’t know they were going to be at that location, so as luck would have it, I was on the other side of the street, which prevented me from stopping and hugging them, but I felt their love deeply. Jeffrey captured a little video as I pushed on down the road. “Only 1 more mile to go. You can do anything for 1 mile.” I reminded myself.

Oh man, that one mile was a loooonnng one, but the park was glorious in its blaze of color, and the spectators made us feel like we were all 1st Place finishers. There was no way they were going to allow us to slow down or stop, no matter how much our bodies were complaining.

And then, just like that, with one final uphill push, the finish line appeared. Halle-freaking-lujah!! Another unforgettable New York City Marathon in the books. What a day!! 5:08:09. I’ll take it, especially since it nearly matched my finish time from 25 years ago. 658 out of 1,322 in our age group. Stats were not the point of this race though, AT ALL. I got everything I came for and more. Especially when I saw that Janet crossed the finish line 19 SECONDS ahead of her 5 hour goal!!!!!! She killed it!!!!! So incredibly happy for her, and proud of her. Welcome to the wonderful world of marathon running, my friend!

What made this moment especially fabulous was when

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