My Marathon -- NYC

by Melissa Murphy

In June 2009, I signed up to run the 2009 NYC marathon with Fred’s Team, a charity associated with Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Research Center. Here is my story.

On race day (Sunday, November 1st), after rising at the very early hour of 5 am and meeting my Fred’s Team teammates in Times Square, we boarded buses escorted by NYPD for the short ride to Staten Island, the start borough.

At around 10 am, the final wave of runners and I headed to the base of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge to line up. While I couldn’t see the start, I could hear a woman giving instructions and another woman singing God Bless America. The time had come and with a cannon blast, we were off!

The first 18 miles were a blur. I felt good and was staying hydrated. I was also running FAST – sub 10 minute mile pace. Prior to the race I expected to run closer to 11 minute miles throughout so my speed and strength surprised me. While running, I saw many Fred’s Team comrades and plenty of amusing runners. In addition, the music was phenomenal! I passed dozens of bands and heard various genres of music. The crowds were energizing. Because my name was written on my shirt, so many people called out to me by name to encourage and support me. I heard the sentence, “You can do it Melissa” again and again. It was all quite the boost.

The start of mile 16 involves turning the bend off the Queensboro Bridge onto First Avenue in Manhattan – this moment was absolutely exhilarating and amazing. I was excited and felt so good. As I was running up First, somewhere in the 70s, out of the blue, a man came up beside me. He was wearing Fred’s Team clothing and holding a bullhorn. He put his arm around me and said “Melissa with Fred’s Team. These people are here for you.” The entire block, the official cheering area for Fred’s Team, erupted in applause. I was overcome with emotion and tried to smile and wave but it was difficult because I felt unworthy of such tremendous support from people I didn’t know. It was the most touching moment of the race. It made every moment of fundraising and training worthwhile.

Then MILE 18 hit me like a ton of bricks. The pain came intensely and swiftly and did not did not cease until the race ended. I was determined not to walk so I slowed down and tried to process the pain. I told myself I was stronger than the pain, determined to work through it and appreciative that my quads and knees were really the only body parts suffering. I also thought about the people in my life who inspire me and give me strength. Every ounce of me wanted to stop, to just walk but I wanted to prove to myself I could do it my way (ie, NO walking!). It was a blur of rolling hills, cheering spectators and water stops. Entering Central Park signified just two more miles but at that point two more miles felt like a million. I just concentrated on keeping one foot in front of the other and making my way toward the finish.

Central Park South is the final stretch and as I rounded the corner back into the park I knew 0.2 miles were all that separated me from accomplishing a dream. I had visualized this moment during my training and recognized it as the culmination of all the moments running on my own through the summer heat and fall rain that led me to this finish line. Those mornings when it felt too early to run so far and no one would know if I didn’t run. I would know and was determined to consistently honor my commitment to myself and to this process. After crossing, I was overwhelmed by emotion yet again and although pain lingered, the most significant – and lasting – feeling was ultimate joy.

Thank you again to everyone who supported Fred’s Team and my journey.