2005 New York Marathon

Nov 6, 2005

The premier event of New York Road Runners, the ING New York City Marathon is one of the world's great road races, drawing more than 85,000 applicants. The race attracts many world-class professional athletes, not only for the more than $500,000 in prize money, but also for the chance to excel in the media capital of the world before two million cheering spectators and 260 million worldwide television viewers. As any one of the 635,000 past participants will attest, crossing the finish line in Central Park is one of the great thrills of a lifetime.

Raceday Weather Conditions:

68°-70°F / 20°-21°C sunny (fog in the morning)

Finisher Statistics:

Participants:  37,597
Finishers total:  36,847
Male finishers:  24,792
Female finishers:  12,055
Finishers from Texas:  633

Gosia's Results:

Time:  3:24:46
Pace:  7:48 / mile
Time after 10km:  45:45
Time 1st half:  1:37:39

Overall place:   2,223 (6%)
Women place:  217   (1.8%)
Women 45-49 place:  9   (0.7%)

Texas overall place:  11
Texas women place:  1

Top Men

Place	Name	Home	Age	Time
1	Paul Tergat	KEN	36	2:09:30
2	Hendrick Ramaala	RSA	33	2:09:31
3	Meb Keflezighi	USA	30	2:09:56

Top Women

Place	Name	Home	Age	Time
1	Jelena Prokopcuka	LAT	29	2:24:41
2	Susan Chepkemei	KEN	30	2:24:55
3	Derartu Tulu	ETH	33	2:25:21

Top Women 45-49

Place	Name	Home	Age	Time
1	Dorian Meyer	USA	45	3:00:46
2	Ella Witjes	NED	48	3:01:42
3	Carol Baker	USA	46	3:06:53
9	Malgorzata Mirkowicz	TX	46	3:24:46

Click here for official results http://www.nycmarathon.org

Race Map and Elevations:

Gosia's e-mail with her first impressions from the race:

Dear friends,

thank you so much for all of your emails, support, and congratulations before my New York marathon. A few of you asked me for my feedback of the run directly prior to the race, so here it is.

I think that each marathon is difficult for many reasons: unfamiliarity of the course, unpredictability of the weather, change in climate and nourishment, and the anxiety before putting your body and soul through such a long, hard race. The New York Marathon is much more challenging than the Dallas White Rock and the Boston marathons, because the entire course is a constant series of hills: 5 bridges on the trail are uphill, from mile 8 until mile 16th there’re hills ranging from ¼  to ½ a mile in length, and mile 19.5 to mile 26.2 is a constant uphill battle. As you all know Plano is flat as a board, and the only slight hills that I could train on are a good 6 minutes too short.

The marathon began on the largest suspension bridge in North America, the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. It is 2.7 miles long and has 6 lanes in each direction. Down below, in the New York Harbor two gigantic ships pumped streams of water into the air to form two huge fountains. Running through this bridge was an unforgettable experience. Being so high up, it was like looking at the scene from an airplane, and I was there alongside of 37,500 other runners. Below us was the sparkling water and pair of massive ships, and up ahead New York skyline on Manhattan invited us forward. Despite the fact that the whole first mile was steeply uphill, I was sad to leave the bridge. Mile 3 began in Brooklyn, and consisted of a lot of Mexicans cheering constantly on Pedro, Lupe, or Maria. Mile 4 had an insanely large portion of its housing dedicated to US soldiers. It looked like a never-ending cement wall. Mile 5, we passed the Greenwood cemetery where, among others, Samuel Morse, the inventor of the Morse code, was buried. At this point I felt great. It is sunny outside, a bit hot, but each mile we got water. Let’s just keep everything this way. Mile 7 finished exactly in front of the Old Stone House. The house looked like a mammoth, 2 story Tuscan villa, but it was the site of the first fighting in the Revolutionary War. Mile 8, I was still running through Brooklyn, and I ran past the Williamsburg Savings Bank, the tallest building in Brooklyn. I then passed the Music Academy. In this mile the men and women runners joined back together; it was very apparent because instantaneously the road got crowded. Mile 10, the buildings were covered in spray paint and masses of Jews in their native outfits were outside handing out orange slices to the runners. In mile 11 there was the huge, beautiful Williamsburg Bridge that joins Brooklyn to Manhattan. Again, the bridge was uphill, but the pain that started to accumulate in my thighs was overshadowed by the gorgeous view. During mile 12, Greenpoint, Brooklyn, the most densely populated area of Polish people in New York, we ran past small houses made of red brick and little shops amongst tiny factories. The crowd was still roaring on both sides of the street, but only one woman was waving this huge Polish flag. Thanks to her I got tears in my eyes and a powerful boost of energy and determination. My mind revolves around my family in Poland: daddy’s birthday, my mom, and my two sisters Ela and Marta. Half the marathon, 13.1 miles was good and done on Pulawski’s Bridge, and from it the massive Manhattan skyscrapers seemed an arm’s length away. Unfortunately though, I started feeling both the physical and mental fatigue that I had been dreading. Besides this I knew that from that point on the rest of the race was uphill nearly until the finish with a few downward slopes but not enough to compensate for all the lost time from running uphill. I passed the half point of the marathon with a time of 1:37 and thought to myself that if the rest of the journey was flat I could finish in 3:16. My hopes were shot down at mile 14 as I looked up ahead at Queensboro Bridge with the deep blue river flowing under it and people effortlessly cruising in their motorboats. The incline became tremendously steep for the next 5 minutes, so I had to slow my mile down by at least 10 seconds. Actually, everyone around me also slowed down dramatically, and I saw the first tens of incredibly well-built people had to handle the challenge of the bridge by walking. Finally, the end of the bridge, and at this point we have entered Manhattan. We passed mile 16, and there again were crowds of people waving enthusiastically, loudly cheering, and running along side of us for brief moments. Their enthusiasm and encouragement gave me great energy, and besides I knew that I would see Walt with one of his cousins in the middle of mile 17 so I wanted to hurry so they weren’t waiting too long. We ran on First Avenue, which was a straight, wide road with onlookers packed on both sides; the street was beautiful but unfortunately continuously uphill. I passed Walt who wanted to be easily distinguished by me by wearing an orange UT Austin shirt, but unfortunately all the marathon worker’s and basically every other person watching, some 50000 people, had on some shade of orange. Finally, I saw Teresa on a 4-foot ladder, and thanks to her I saw my husband. Mile 18, the road was still wide and the stylish infrastructure of Manhattan’s skyscrapers still above me, but the road was still steadily ascending.

We are handed flavored, energy gel. Seeing it made me realize that my body was getting fed up of running, because the thought of energy gel, water, or Powerade made me gag. Then came mile 20 which consisted of the Willis Avenue Bridge and the Harlem River flowing underneath it. The area started getting ugly as we entered the Bronx, and dozens of shady looking people seemed to eye us. However, outside of many churches choirs were singing and dancing gospel music. Wow, what an amazing sound it was. The churches were small, but the huge spirit of the singers pushed us forward. Next, mile 21, led us to the Madison Bridge and we’re back in Manhattan. We then ran up, literally up, Fifth-Avenue.

All of a sudden I began to experience my first leg cramp, and panic possessed my thoughts. The cramp swarmed over my left toes, so I pounded them into the ground, as I made way uphill. It worked, the pain disappeared, and I was relieved. However, I started passing dozens of young guys with pain-stricken faces, stretching their legs on the side of the road. I felt so incredibly sorry them. I then passed a guy with one leg limp, dragging behind him, and the sight was painful, like watching a cripple attempt to run. He interrupted the walking with small attempts to run, and watching this made me realize that worse part was right ahead of me. I started to feel like a robot, and my mind was weighed down with a million thoughts: why am I doing this to myself, and I am not cut out to do marathons. Mile 22, we were still running on Fifth-Avenue, and we passed the beautiful New York City museum called the Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum. Then finally I reached the last stretch, mile 23, as we entered into Central Park through the Engineer’s Gate, and at this point I knew I would make it. Still, every moment I battled the physical and mental anguish that was almost too much to bear. I thought of Walt, whom I was sure was at the finish line already waiting for me and who had already spent all day standing, waiting, and driving for me around. I then thought of Tom Skrzypek, whose fingers I was sure were purple and blue by this time from having them crossed in high hopes for me. I thought of Bozena, Malgosia Blaszczak, Wanda and Vicek, John and Ania Smolenski, Ewa and Leszek, and Iza and Robert whom would all be so proud if I finished the marathon below 3:30. Mile 24 was run next the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which is one of the largest museums, and I dragged myself up yet another hill. The crowd of onlookers was unbelievable, and I thanked them by waving back. I felt like a turtle, so I slowly lowered the position of my arms, shortened my strides, and sped up passing one little tree at a time. I passed some young black people, and thought: Wow, am I really beating them? Mile 25, the street suddenly flattened; what a difference.  I ran on East 59^th Street, a.k.a. Central Park South, and the turn was by a magnificent hotel, which led into Central Park. There a flood of supporters surrounded me, a crowd that I have only seen generated by Pope John Paul II. THE FINISH LINE was in the middle of Central Park, next to a restaurant called Tavern on the Green. Up ahead I saw the clock, hundreds of colorful balloons, and thousands of excited family and friends waiting to greet their exhausted loved ones. I sped up in order to beat 3:25, I passed two Italian ladies, Stanley from England. HOORAY!!!

3:24, nothing else mattered!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Someone handed me a medal. I kept walking. Someone clipped the chip off my running shoe; I received water, and was congratulated.

I then saw my husband and his smiling, overjoyed face. He has no idea how much I appreciate him being there, all of his help, his tremendous support, and for how much he cares about me.

Tom, I’m sorry, I didn’t beat my time from Boston. My time for New York was 3:24:46, but I won an even bigger battle, the battle within myself. The NYC marathon was amazing, with beautiful sights, 2 million supporters cheering us on, the brutal difficulty of the course, and of course Manhattan and Central Park…I love New York!

To everyone right now who is reading this email, again, thank you so much for all your encouragement, motivation, and for giving me faith in myself. You all are wonderful.

Happy Birthday Dieter!