26.2 miles baby

Pre-NYC marathon @ Staten Island ferry terminal

I did it!

After months of early morning training [throughout the cold Canberra winter] and giving up way too many Saturday mornings, I finished the NYC marathon in 4 hours, 24 minutes and 12 seconds - hurrah!

Some observations/advice...

1. Wear throw-away clothing at the start. I made the mistake of freezing for a hour beforehand, only to be saved by some lovely Canadians with a daggy throwaway white t-shirt.

2. Be prepared for the national anthem to play before the start [cant exactly see this catching on at the City to Surf]. Americans tend to do the whole hand-on-heart patriotic thing - probably best not to laugh.

3. Be prepared for "New York New York" to be played at the start-line. This marked the first time during the race that I started to tear-up. In all seriousness.

4. Gatorade gels [especially the ones with caffeine] are awesome. Dose up.

5. Chafing is you biggest enemy. Don't scoff at the officials offering Vasoline-on-a-stick. They might help you out later on.

6. People cheer you on the WHOLE way. This is great when you're feeling a bit sore/tired but after 4 and a half hours (and Eye of the Tiger) the positivity becomes overwhelming and you just want them to go away.

7. You will never, EVER want to hear the word "Gaaa-tor-aaaade" in an American accent EVER again. And yes, they do say it like that.

8. It awesome to hear someone cheer your name [Dad managed to spot me and yell out at three different times during the course and I've never smiled so much.] It also explains why heaps of people write their name/nationalist on their shirts.

9. Have someone to meet up with at the end. You will probably be emotional, tired and [at the very least] need someone to whinge to about how sore you are. If you're really lucky they will buy you presents from Tiffanys.

10. If at all possible, do a marathon in the United States - 26.2 miles sounds WAY BETTER than 42.2 kilometres.

11. You will get beaten by someone dressed up as Superman, a banana or in a wig. Deal with it.

12. If you're getting bored/tired, start focussing on the spectator signs. Favourites include: "Finishing is your only fucking option" and "Free beer at the end". Favourite runner shirt was "18 weeks ago this seemed like a good idea".

13. You probably will start crying. I think I teared up about 5 or 6 times - not really from pain but from the combination of tiredness, an emotional couple of weeks and disbelief that I was about to finish the NYC marathon. Sunglasses are therefore a good idea. Otherwise the medics might start freaking out.

14. You will receive a bagel in your post-race food/fluid pack. Don't eat it. Bagels do not make for good recovery food.

15. Don't make any plans for that evening or the next day [unless they involve sleeping, eating or whinging, preferably all three simultaneously.]

16. Yep, it will probably be one of the best experiences of your life. Luckily it lasts a long time [and feels even longer than that!]

High Line & a bit of nudity

High Line first entry in the Meatpacking District

Green poking through

Had a wander along the High Line a few days ago. Great example of taking an unused rail yard and creating a green, community-based space. Also an example of the gentrification of the Meatpacking District - I love that episode of Sex and the City where Samantha [who has recently moved to the Meatpacking District] is horrified to see that Pottery Barn has moved in next to her local S&M club.

The building in the background is The Standard Hotel. Dad has taken people to the High Line a few times, and has often seen people "parading" themselves in the windows [obviously full aware of the onlooking audience]. According to this article, the hotel actually encourages guest nudity. Staff have even posed naked as "guests".

Only in America?

Frick collection

The Frick collection garden taken from outside

Best light of the trip so far @ the Guggenheim

NYC has some pretty amazing museums, from the Guggenheim to the Met, MOMA to the Museum of Natural History. But my favourite is the Frick Collection - a mansion on the Upper East side filled with amazing art and interior design.

To steal from their website:

The Frick Collection was founded by Henry Clay Frick (1849-1919), the Pittsburgh coke and steel industrialist. At his death, Mr. Frick bequeathed his New York residence and the most outstanding of his many art works to establish a public gallery for the purpose of “encouraging and developing the study of the fine arts.” Chief among his bequests, which also included sculpture, drawings, prints, and decorative arts such as furniture, porcelains, enamels, rugs and silver, were one hundred thirty-one paintings. Forty-seven additional paintings have been acquired over the years by the Trustees from an endowment provided by the founder and through gifts and bequests. As of the end of 1995 The Frick Collection housed a permanent collection of more than 1,100 works of art from the Renaissance to the late nineteenth century.

When I last came to New York I did a lot of touristy things [Empire State Building, Yankees game, the library, the Met, Wall Street, Staten Island etc]. One of the only things I re-visited this time around [except for Magnolia bakery of course] was the Frick Collection. Definitely worth [another] look.

What's the scariest thing about Halloween?

Photo taken by my dad @ Halloween

On Saturday [aka Marathon eve] my dad and I wandered into the West Village to watch the Halloween parade.

I've never seen anything like it - and probably never will! Highlights included a guy dressed as a banana, Ghostbusters, a giant rabbit and some random hot guy in an Austrian-style get-up. However the real highlight was seeing over 100 people dressed as zombies dancing in sync to Michael Jackson's Thriller. RIP.

We then headed to what looked like a french bistro, filled with people dressed as American indians, bogans, French policemen, and [my favourite] - a fencer. My dad [as he tends to do] got talking with these randoms and asked to take their photo.

The girl on the far right had picked our Australian accents because:

A) Her ex-boyfriend was an Aussie; and

B) SHE LIKED KATH & KIM.

And that was the scariest thing about my Halloween.

My Sartorialist encounter

A few days ago I bumped into the Sartorialist outside Marc Jacobs in the West Village. This was easily more exciting than seeing SJP, even if [almost] no one else was as excited.

Lets just say he looks even more like the Sartorialist than the Sartorialist. He was very short, has the squarest head I've ever seen, dresses impeccably and has a digital SLR sticky taped to his right hand.

Unfortunately I now have an outfit (including my favourite tux jacket) that can never be worn again on the grounds that it was rejected by the Sartorialist. Sad face.

Yesterday, the Sartorialist was watching the New York City marathon in Brooklyn. See here.