Hurricane Sandy.

As we all know at this point, Hurricane Sandy has left a significant mark on New York City. 

It is devastating.  It is tragic and heartbreakingly sad.  People have lost their homes, their cars, their most personal belongings, their livelihoods.  We've seen the pictures of the subways flooded and neighborhoods completely wiped out, of fires raging through buildings and the wind ripping cement apart.  We did get strong winds and rain outside of Boston but ultimately ended up so very lucky.  Brian and I were both able to work from home on Monday, we had power all day (still do), certainly never lost water, had no damage done to our building or car… we basically came out of the storm completely unscathed.

It wasn’t until Monday night into Tuesday morning when news start to spread of just how bad NYC had been hit that I realized how severe the aftermath of Sandy was.  I became glued to Facebook, Twitter, the news… any form of social media that could give me more information.  My thought process went something like this

• This is terrifying.  And serious—so much more serious than I imagined.
• I hope that our friends in the city are okay.
• The marathon.  What about the marathon?

I've felt really conflicted the last few days as to whether I wanted to write about Sandy vs. the marathon but I ultimately decided that since preparing for these 26.2 miles has pretty much become my life these last six months, I needed to share what’s been on my mind.

Selfish.  I've felt very, very selfish.  People have lost everything and I’m stressing out as to how I’m going to get to the city, if we’ll have a hotel, if I’ll get to run the race and have and EXPERIENCE everything that the marathon is supposed to be.

As it turns out, I still have no idea how we’re getting into the city.  The train lines are still out of service and if we can’t take the train, we’re left with the option of driving and attempting to park somewhere and then retrieve the car in the midst of post-race chaos. 

As of this morning, we had no hotel.  Back in July, immediately after receiving my confirmation and registration number for the race, I booked our hotel at an amazing location overlooking the Hudson River.  I figured if you’re going to NYC to run a marathon, you’re going to NYC to do it up big!  That was my first and most important check off of my list. 

The hotel happened to be in Battery Park City. 

Battery Park City was evacuated on Monday and is confirmed to be without power until Monday.

So I spent two hours this morning scouring Manhattan for a new hotel that was operational, had availability, and wasn’t $700.  When you’re three days out from when you need to check in and a natural disaster has completely wiped the city out, New York City becomes an even more expensive place to stay than it already was.  Regardless, somebody out there was on my side because I found a really nice hotel that could accommodate us all and is actually way closer to where the charity bus is picking us up Sunday morning.  Big “phew” on that one.

Most importantly at this point, we’re all waiting for Mayor Bloomberg to officially announce if the marathon is still on or not.  They’re setting up the expo, which is scheduled to open tomorrow, and several higher-up people have said that all plans are continuing, but I feel like I won’t be completely convinced until the head honcho says “Yes, marathoners—come to NYC and run your hearts out.” 

That brings me to my next struggle— is it insensitive to run the race with all of the disaster surrounding this event, or does it show how a city like New York can persevere and still shine when it’s at its lowest point? 

The opinions are, of course, split down the middle. 

People supporting the marathon to go on as scheduled are runners like me.  They’ve paid so much money and invested so much time into their training, and they are READY.  There are also people across the city who feel that bringing everyone together in an event like this, the ultimate example of hope and perseverance, is what New Yorkers need to bring a little of that sparkle back to the Big Apple, if only for a day.

People pushing for the marathon to be cancelled say that the millions of dollars being spent on the marathon should go towards food, shelter and provisions for those who have lost everything, that the entertainment along the route is in poor taste considering what other New Yorkers are struggling with, that all runners should opt out of the race and defer to next year, an option which is currently being offered due to the thousands of runners traveling from all over the world who won’t be able to make it to the city to race… the list goes on.

I keep telling myself that though I do understand what they’re saying and my heart and sympathy goes out to every single person affected by this disaster… these people who strongly oppose the race going on as planned are clearly not marathoners.

They haven’t spent every waking moment of the last 20 weeks consumed with the marathon.  They haven’t hit the pavement in the pitch black darkness at 5am with only their thoughts and the steady rhythm of their movement to occupy them.  They haven’t missed afternoons of work to lie on the table of their physical therapist and be massaged and pushed and prodded on to work out the kinks and aches and pains that running 30 miles a week gives to your body.  They haven’t spent hours researching to find the perfect shoes, the lucky hairband that never slips off, the best song playlist to keep you motivated when you hit The Wall, the energy gel that will give you an extra kick but won’t make you vomit.  They haven’t spent every single Saturday for the last four months running long run after long run, feeling invincible then exhausted, fed up then elated, collapsing into an ice bath at the end with a hint of an “I did it.” smile. 

These are the thoughts of a marathoner.  My choosing to run the marathon this Sunday says nothing about how much I care for the people who are struggling right now.  It DOES, however, speak volumes for my character because I have persevered through some damned hard times throughout this training and this is MY time.  May that sound selfish, so be it.  But it is.  I have worked so hard and dedicated so much to this race.  The people in my life who mean the most to me have supported me through all of the ups and downs, and 56 people, including my family, friends, and their families have made personal donations towards my fundraising goal to help me help Boston Children’s Hospital.  I’m running this race for me, and I’m running this race for sweet Ellie, my Patient Partner. 

The marathon is (hopefully) in four days.  Well, three and some change.  Until then, I’m going to focus on being excited about my family flying in tomorrow.  I’m going to iron my name onto my race singlet and continue to line up all of my race clothes and gear and gadgets along our bedroom floor so that I can try to act calm and collected but really smile and giggle every time I walk past them.  I’m going to  wrap up my itinerary and mark the final things off of my To Do list.  

My body is as prepared for this race as I can be, and finally, finally… my heart and mind are ready too.  Let's do this, New York.