Despite all my excitement for the actual marathon, the past few weeks have been filled with many levels of disappointment and some bad luck. Omens of more bad to come! (just kidding)
My bad luck began when I missed the NYRR registration cycle for early 2026 races. Including Washington Heights, my current 5K PR and sentimental part of my running journey. In ten years of this game, I have never missed registration. My brain is full, max capacity. I even missed the calendar reminder I had set.
The negativity continued with my first ever race cancellation. A major one, at that! The October 12th Staten Island Half was cancelled due to a severe storm that was projected to hit NYC early morning of the race (spoiler alert, it did not). While I understand safety comes first, it was extremely frustrating given all the preparation, logistics, time, and money spent. And the training! And the role it played in my marathon training cycle! It was my dress rehearsal.
I believe they overreacted, perhaps rightfully so, specifically because of the race location. If the storm hit as planned or even shifted for the worse, it would have been a logistical nightmare with the ferry carrying 20,000 people back and forth. With no shelter in place areas on the course. And a course in a flood zone that borders the coastline the whole race. I believe if this was another Half location, it wouldn't have been cancelled.
The bright spot of this disaster was shifting my run to an uptown 1st Ave 13 miles with Rob, including part of the marathon course. I saw great pace improvement as I was "chasing" him (hate him).
The last wave of disappointment was quite literally a Wave (assignment). With much anticipation, I received my wave assignment this past week. Despite improving and getting faster, I was moved back from wave 4 to wave 5 (the last wave). Somewhat expected, but still shocking.
Why did this happen? The field gets more diverse every year and the fast get faster. And some people get special treatment with no regard to their pace. Essentially, the line I work towards is a moving target. By the time I achieve it, they move the line, making it harder for me.
Why does this matter? Without going on a soapbox about fairness...it puts me at a further disadvantage. After a very early wake-up and long trek, It's a lot more waiting time on Staten Island. It's a later start time with worse course conditions, resources, and temperatures. It's a later finish time, potentially dark.
And the most significant, there will be anywhere between 15,000-20,000 other runners I will likely pass, who got to start before me. I will literally be fighting my way through, just for a chance. Sounds like life.
That's all fine. Beast mode activated. Let's GO.
Despite all of that, the weirdest part this year is that I'm doing this all solo. No fanfare, no support, no strategically placed friends and family, no gear and fuel hand-offs, no post festivities to look forward to. This was an active choice. I want to be alone? I need to be alone?
But that's not fully true (or fair). I have Rob, though it's his race and my race, separately.
I have NYC - normally strangers, but not on marathon Sunday. Community.
I have Milltown, who played a critical role in this year's training cycle. When others didn't understand the crazy, they did. When I didn't have a cheerleader, they cheered. When others told me to stop, they told me to go.
And I have the spirit of my ancestors guiding me through. Their voices, songs, and legacy give me purpose and strength. They would be shocked. Nonna would be shocked. And hopefully proud.
Despite having enough emotional and self awareness to know the bigger picture here, I would be lying if I said I didn't have something to prove. I definitely do.
