The race

I got used to hearing “Schatzi” called out and continued to wave back. In Williamsburg I heard someone say, “That’s my dog!” and looked over to see a spectator holding a long haired Dachshund in his arms. Incredulous, I stopped and asked, “Is that dog’s name Schatzi?” “Yes,” he replied. Way cool.

The Pulaski Bridge at the midway point was a test. I then slowed down a bit in Queens. My work associate, Jess and her fiance, Brian, met me at the entrance to the Queensboro Bridge, which I appreciated. Here I pose up on the Queensboro Bridge.

Here’s the 25K mark. I thought I was done for the day and took my time getting over the bridge, not pushing it at all.

Here’s a look back at the bridge on 1st Avenue. I gingerly refocused on my race walking form and found I myself breezing along at a much better pace than I expected.

1st Avenue offers a long rise and race walking form really clicks in on a slight rise. I allowed a sort of tunnel vision to envelope me as I zeroed in on efficiency. Street signs at cross streets seemed to flit quickly by.

I reached the dreaded Willis Avenue bridge with mile 20 on the other side—the place where many marathons blow apart. However, I cruised right over it.

A couple official photos, on 1st Avenue and the Willis Ave. bridge. I had the cell phone out in order to hook up with my friend Ted, letting him know my progress and planning to met him and his wife at Central Park.

The Bronx felt really sweet. The marathon spends just barely a mile in the Bronx. At this point I allowed some emotion to flow and started to psyche myself up.

The Madison Avenue Bridge led back into Manhattan and the last tough miles of the marathon awaited but a sense of grace had came to me.