It was the beginning of November 1982; I had just returned from the Hawaii Ironman and was recovering nicely. I went to a party in NYC thrown by Ambrose Salmini, sport film maker and fellow NYAC Member. Stu Middleman, ultra marathoner extraordinaire and Hawaii Ironman finisher was also at the party. In Hawaii, I trained a few times with Stu and Mike Kassar. Stu was a crazy man; he would often run from his apartment in Manhattan to his parents home in Alpine, NJ, about 55 miles each way. Mike would regularly do 30 mile training runs for a 26.2 mile marathon. While catching up at the party, we agreed to meet at the club on Wednesday for a competitive run. The run was like the Tour de France only minus the bike; constant surge, attack and catch. We knew every uphill and downhill in Central Park, every turn, every pothole.
After the run I was talked into doing the 50 Miler that Saturday.
It was a beautiful crisp morning with the sun just rising. We ran south 1 mile to 72nd street and back to the start to complete 2 miles then onto 12 x 4-mile loops. On the finish of the first loop, I noticed a couple holding hands heading west through the park. The guy asked “is there a race today?” I said, “yep a 50 miler.”
Evelyn was my handler, giving me a banana or box of raisins and water after each loop with lots of encouragement. Mike and Stu dropped out after 30 miles and I just kept going. On the last loop I put on a clean shirt and a new pair of socks and Nike’s. As I was completing the race, I once again saw the couple holding hands and he said to me “you have been running all day!” I said, “yep and I have 1 mile to go!”
At the finish I felt like some super humanoid. We walked over to the NY Road Runners Club HQ on East 89th St, a short distance from the finish. I cleaned up and was ready to celebrate at Poncho Villa’s, the local Mexican Restaurant. When we arrived I was still on a natural high and ordered a Margarita and some quesadillas. Just before my order arrived, I turned white and broke into a cold sweat. Evelyn helped me outside and gave me some ice water as I sat on the street curb. I never had the celebration Margarita.
The following day I ran with both of my Daughters Melanie and Michele in a local 2-mile race which was harder and more painful than the 50 miler.
Leave a Reply