by Tom Hunt Mayo AC

Coming back from the Gerry Farnan XC on Sunday I realised I had still to do that 'project' for Mick Rice.

No excuses now.

Tapering towards Dublin, clock ticking, feet up, nutrition, nutrition, nutrition....

A few weeks ago I sent him some results/event details for inclusion in athenryac.com. He inserted the piece accompanied by a photo from their archives, taken after the 5k race in Craughwell last May. It showed myself wearing an Irish singlet, chatting with Tommy Joe Whyte (Tuam AC) and captioned by Mick 'setting the world to rights'. In a follow up email I related to Mick that this singlet was worn initially at the New York City Marathon in 2001, and was probably having its second outing since then! A couple of days later I referred him to an article in the Irish Times ("It's about distance learning" ) in which Dick Hopper was giving some advice to participants in this year's Dublin Marathon. Dick was the leader of our group in NY, raising funds for Enable Ireland and we all had the legend 'Hoopers Troopers' emblazoned on the back of our singlets. Of course Dick is a legend in Irish marathon running as most readers will know, and nowadays a great coach at Raheny Shamrock AC. Mick said that this 'story' was just what readers love .. and he suggested that I write about it. I have to admit I feel a bit strange 'guesting' on the site that I enjoy so much.

Six years have passed and New York/Dublin marathons are around the corner again. Memories are returning and looking up my race details have triggered this. Apart from that, it is mainly 'emotion recollected in tranquillity'. The NYC marathon 2001 was in serious doubt of taking place after the horrific events in September that year. The organisers feared that many people would stay away due to the global fear of flying in the aftermath. However, plans were confirmed and training could be resumed. Sunday November 4 would be only 54 days after 9/11. New York City really embraces Marathon Sunday - a dedicated TV channel, bands, choirs, the New York Port Authority, five Boroughs and five bridges, all united to facilitate this massive test of mind, body, spirit. The poster for the race is still on the wall behind my kitchen door - their slogan says "Where the world comes to run".

I joined our group at Shannon for JFK on the 2nd November - Friday morning.. We stayed at the Waldorf-Helmsley on West 57th St. That evening as I walked down the street. I came upon the first of many shrines outside a fire-station with photos of missing or dead firefighters displayed. It was a poignant moment. Despite the horror, New York had responded to the events with courage and generosity; we were welcomed everywhere, just for turning up! On the Saturday morning my roommate Tony, who had been there many times, decided to go on the Friendship Run to the United Nations building. I joined him partly because I wanted to stretch my legs and test out a niggling groin strain, to get some unique sight-seeing, but mainly to show sympathy and solidarity. Having started running in 1990, it was now six years since I ran my two marathons (1994 London 3.54 ... never again..and ?? London '95 .. 3.40). By this time in 2001, I was nearing fifty-four.

The Friendship Run was brilliant. A misty morning, we joined thousands in the street. We ran right up behind a giant wagon full of media/photographers, NYPD everywhere, national flags carried, national costumes worn, it took a brisk paced 35 minutes to the UN building. There were speeches of welcome and gospel choirs singing.. the world had come to run. That evening back at the hotel we joined Dick Hooper for a pep talk/advice session. He suggested we each carry a $20 bill in our socks 'just in case things don't go to plan and you need a taxi back to the Helmsley'! I asked anxiously about my groin strain. He gave me the classic reply. "The best cure for that is the starting gun!" . Round the corner I found a local low key restaurant for a large portion of pasta, followed by a coffee at Cafe Europa. Afterwards, as I walked back, plumes of steam poured from pipes along the sidewalks reminding me of scenes from fillums seen long ago in the Eureka Cinema.

Sunday morning 6am, walking down to get our coach to the start on Staten Island. Tour organiser, Ballyhaunis native, Martin Joyce, led us on the way. On the coach I remember worrying about the coffee and muffins I had eaten in the foyer earlier. A young man from the Bronx was beside me on the coach, his first marathon.. As we turned a corner he nudged me .. we were passing right by Ground Zero. A hush descended on the bus. His city, his back yard, a hole in the heart.

Over the bridge to Staten Island to join the masses. Security was very tight. The warm sun worried me. My freckles start to freak out at 17c. I sought the shade of trees and lay down to rest. A rock band rocked me awake. The Mayor of NY Rudolph W. Giuliani got on stage and made a rousing speech. Setting the world to rights. Whoops and hollers filled the air. Into the start area, the cannon boomed, we were on our way, up and across the incline of the Verrazano-Narrows bridge. Double-decked, it has a central span of 1,298 metres. Far below in the Narrows, ships were spraying water skywards. Along the bridge walls lines of over hydrated male participants 'reciprocated' downwards. 50,000 rhythmic footfalls beat out the music of humanity as we headed for Brooklyn. No one allowed except runners. Many Americans in patriotic stars and stripes outfits. Others with the names of their missing friends on vests. Then as we reached the end of the bridge, the first roars of the crowds hit us. The emotion was tangible.

After a couple of miles, Maurice from our group joined me. Just like that. I checked our pace - 8 min. The first half of the race takes place within Brooklyn. Mainly flat. 10k at 51.37. Staggered starts merged. Massive crowds. Irish flags. Shiny fire engine ladders held hands across the road. Everybody wanted low fives. Sun on our backs. Drinks stations welcomed. Still together. 'Magic', said Maurice. Half-way at 1.46.14, climbing a bit at the Pulaski Bridge. It's not the distance, it's the pace. Into Queens, and a steady climb over the Queensboro Bridge. Steep down into Manhattan at 16. Crowds louder, bigger. First Avenue. Grabbed a banana. Not flat now. On to the Willis Avenue Bridge at 125th St. Crowds thinner. Maurice tells me to push on as he struggles a bit. Into the Bronx. At 20 in 2.41.38. Over the Madison Avenue Bridge. Left in to Fifth Avenue. Massive crowds on every sidewalk. South towards Central Park via Harlem and noisy crowds again, gospel singers outside churches. Swinging right, left, around Marcus Garvey Park. Tough now. Thighs burning a bit. Into Central Park and at 5k to go it is mostly uphill. Hurting. Trying to remember 'soft feet'. Runners way in the distance are turning off . Is that the finish, is it a mirage? Mind tricks. Driven on. Sponsorship. Maurice. Dick Hooper. Personal goals. And finally, turn the corner at Columbus Circle..the joyous sight of the finish clock.. the legs implode, the heart explodes..3.31.05 and a chip time of 3.29.58. Dead on 8.00 min pace. Negative splits. Magic.

Long wait for a yellow taxi. $20 in sock, intact. Sit in the back glowing. Rucksack on lap, eating Wagon Wheels - a departing gift from Mayo! Legs weary. At least they didn't come off. The hotel foyer is throbbing as finishing times are pinned up on notice boards. Maurice is over the moon. Chip time 3.36.09. a PB. Hugs all round. Dick Hooper was very disappointed. He had finished 2nd in the o45 category in 2.28.29, pipped on the line by one second, by an ironically named New Zealander, Colin Earwaker - "I didn't hear him catching me, and me preaching to all and sundry at Raheny, to be aware of who is around you". His last marathon. Still a hero and an inspiring speaker.

Next morning I dragged weary legs the two blocks to Central Park for a twenty minute run.. Autumn leaves. Giant NY marathon logo tattoos still visible on the road. I wanted to take photo of the statue of Fred Lebow founder of the NY marathon, which is placed on the roadside near the finish each year.However, it had been moved back to it's permanent location on 90th St. His image adorns the back of each finisher's medallion.. In the first race in 1970, he was 45th of the 55 runners. Back at the local cafe on 7th Avenue for breakfast - pancakes and honey, bacon, more muffins, lots of coffee and Maurice still beaming.

Later I walked down Canal Street near the Ground Zero area. Photos and messages about the missing, pinned and pasted outside the PO and other buildings. On Madison Avenue, funerals emerged from St. Patrick's Cathedral. Firefighter comrades lined up outside. Their big engines standing by in a gleaming guard of honour......Family groups. Big tearful men hugging. A bagpipe band. No coffins.

And since then... setting the world to rights .. well, maybe I'll stop there, before I get an attack of opinions.

And so to Dublin on Sunday. The elusive sub 3. No pressure! Got to 3.02.26 in 2005, so who knows. Looking forward to meeting friends at the RDS. 9 Mayo AC starters. I'll be looking out for Athenry vests on Monday morning at the start, swapping notes with each other on psychomechanical imaging . I've been reading about the 'preparation and execution strategies' employed by an American, John Cahill, aged 66, After a year of running, he ran 3.04 in his first marathon. When a reporter asked if he found the race difficult, John answered, "The first twenty miles went pretty easily, but during the last six miles I made a deal with God: if you pick my feet up, I'll put 'em back down" At age 73 .. he did 3.05. ..Good luck, everybody! And Mick, Thanks.