A recap of race events and resultant thoughts:

I had the two weeks before the marathon off of school (purposefully planned) so I was in a nice place to be able to train and get my equipment ready for the event. I felt pretty good going in; training had been consistent throughout September/October and I felt that my speeds in training were pretty on with what they had been when I was previously in top shape. I flew down to Orange County for an awards event for one night and then landed in New York the Thursday before the race. On Friday I did an appearance and then got dinner with friends (hi Joce and Jake!). Saturday I pretty much hibernated in my room aside from a short push in the morning and then a pre-race meeting at 4:00. That night they had a dinner for all of the pro athletes which was fine but...I must admit it's always a bit tough to stomach sitting a few tables away from your rivals the night before the event. At any rate - the food was tasty. :)

On race morning things went as planned. My three alarm clocks went off (better safe than sorry), I made my coffee (can't go without it) and had my in-room oatmeal. I brought my stuff downstairs and loaded the bus to the start line. We have our own reserved bus so it makes getting out there pretty hassle-free, which is great. The ride was uneventful, I was exceptionally nervous but happy with my iPOD, and we got to the start in time. I did a few last-minute chair preps and then started my warm-up. Everything was lined up! It was a strange feeling to be out there again. In many ways, I felt like this was a short in the dark. It's different to not race for a few years and then show up at the start line of a race like NYC having no gauge of if you're going to bolt off the line and put a hurt on people...or... get the hurt put on you! I was, as I call it, realistically confident in knowing that I had been training this year for a cumulative 4 months, which is not enough, but that my speeds were feeling pretty good in prep for the day.

The race started and it was immediately obvious that it was going to be FAST. The first mile of NYC is a climb onto the Verrizano Narrows bridge, so, we dug in, each athlete seeing just how many people could be dropped before we got to the top of the hill. I was feeling solid but pushing way past my threshold for that first mile, as was totally expected. The starts are always fast. I was with the lead pack until about 3/4 of the way up when I simply decided I couldn't hold the pace that was demanded. I hit the top of the hill about 20 feet back from the leader and knew I would be solo for the coast back down. By the bottom of the hill, the chase pack had caught me and we took off in pursuit of the leaders.

From Mile 3-16, I hung on with the chase pack but knew that I was not racing fast enough to contribute to the pace line. By that time, we were vying for places 4-6, but I was taking pulls (at the front of the draft line) much slower than the other two racers. Had we all made it to the finish and if I had a burst left at that time, I still would have let these other two ladies cross ahead of me as I was very obviously not able to take my fair share of the lead through this part of the course. Regardless, I was hanging on the to the back and happy to be working with Chantal and Diane, two excellent athletes. We climbed the 59th Street Bridge from Brooklyn into Queens and, again, I was working WAY past my threshold. By the time we descended back off the bridge, it was obvious that my arms were totally tapped out. I was finished. I feel off the back of the draft and was then pushing on my own.

From miles 16-26, I tried to keep my solo pace and brought it home for 8th place. Not what I had hoped, but many lessons learned:

#1: The NYC Marathon is probably the hardest marathon in the world for wheelchair racers. It is very technical. One must be ready to climb, coast (up to 40 mph), turn like mad, dodge potholes, and also be talented enough to check out all of the interesting sights and sounds along the course...if you can. :) NYC spectators are incredible.
#2: Four months of cumulative training is not enough and does not compare to the multiple YEARS of training that I had under my belt in previous tries at this race.
#3: The sport of women's wheelchair racing has progressed by leaps and bounds in the last two years and the women are racing FAST. This is excellent
#4: The effect of my hard work at med school over the past two years has, in some ways, taken it's toll. However, this is not at all an entirely negative thing.

What I consider success is this: that when I was pushing in the chase pack in the middle section of the race and noting that I wasn't pulling my weight, my thoughts were already directed toward the questions of... what can I change? What do I need to do to go faster next year in 2008? What steps do I need to take so that I can pull this pack of racers and be able to come through with a real finish? Already, as I was being defeated, I was not defeated. In the few days after the race, I heard numerous times statements relating to "it's amazing you're even here," or "I don't know how you do it." At first I was defensive about these comments, but after hearing them on numerous occasions from many trusted friends, colleagues, fellow racers, family, strangers, etc., I began to think they might be on to something.

In sum, I have decided that if coming away in 2008 with no medals and an M.D. is the result of this effort, it will be okay. I am driven to win, but am realistic as to what I have achieved over the course of a simultaneous academic and athletic career. In this way, my friends, the glass is very...half full.