New Jersey Marathon

Ever since I was little, I wanted to be a runner. I ran with my mom, who was a world-renowned sprinter. She went to the Olympics once, and then retired when she got pregnant with me. I thought I would get those genes, but I got my dad’s severe asthma instead. That didn't stop me though. In middle school, I got 5th in a cross country race. Granted, there were seven people racing in the non-varsity, but I’ll take it. In high school, I got my mile time down to a 7:40, without having an asthma attack. I would never be an Olympian, but I could still like running. 

Now I am 29, and I live in NYC working as an economics professor at NYU. I run every day except for Saturday and Sunday. Those days are for yoga and brunch. I never got any faster than that 7:40 time, but I like to jog a couple miles around the city and the parks at a nice and easy pace. Sometimes it’s a two mile run and, on really good days, I go on 10 mile runs. I may be slow, but I have gotten great at managing my breathing for long amounts of time. I love running in the city. I run with music sometimes but if I don’t, I am never bored. So many people surround me, and they part like the Red Sea when I run. So many smells, from flowers to Ethiopian street food. The city is loud, vibrant, and colorful. The parks are lucious and busy.

One day during my run on a chilly January morning, I passed a big banner in the park, advertising the NYC Winter Marathon. I stopped in my tracks. It was 2020, and my New Year's resolution was to race more. New York is constantly holding 5k’s, 10k’s, walks, and bikes in Central Park. The only problem with this upcoming marathon was that it was in two weeks. Not nearly enough time to train. I ran home as fast as my lungs would let me. Down the slippery paths lined with hanging trees. A pile of snow threatening to land on me every time the wind moved a branch. Back home, I slid into my chair, sweaty, and soaked. I started viscously typing. I signed up for the Winter 10k that was hosted the same day as the marathon I saw advertised, and then dug deeper into my NYC race research. There was a Spring Marathon/Half Marathon in early May. I signed up for the half marathon. Everything seemed perfect.

3 Months Later

I taught in pajama pants today. It was the first day classes were virtual, and it was weird seeing all of my students in their childhood bedrooms. Most students were at home because the dorms were closed. Although a lot of kids moved off campus, most of my students were freshman. They were required to live on campus the first year of NYU. The city is on full lockdown now. As I finish up my evening class, I heard the claps of the 7 o’clock cheer that the whole city participates in. Some students still in New York open their windows over Zoom and clap along. Usually my class is pretty work heavy, but this week I’ve assigned no work so students can settle in and get used to the new reality. 

At around 7:30pm, I decided to go on a run. I had taken a couple days off and I wanted to get back into my groove. I pluck a mask from my ever-growing collection and book it down the stairs. I live about a mile from Central park so I decided to run over there, do a nice mile route and then run back. An easy three miles to start off the week. About four minutes in, I started to slow down. My breathing became short and quick, and then all of a sudden I could barely breathe at all. I stopped running, took a puff of my inhaler, and started walking with my hands above my head. I looked pathetic as a mom and her stroller breezed by me on a brisk jog.  I walked the rest of my run. My lungs were feeling weak and I didn’t want to pass out.

Later that night, after I had showered and eaten dinner, I sat in bed thinking about my run. This weekend, on my marathon training schedule, I was supposed to do 10 miles. But now that I had to wear a mask I could barely do one mile. I really wanted to do the marathon, and maybe things would be better by May. I thought about getting a treadmill, but I knew it was unrealistic to fit a huge machine in my studio apartment.

Just then I got a call from my mom. She asked me if I wanted to visit for a week since I’d just be sitting in my apartment for a while. My parents live in rural New Jersey. They own 45 acres, where my dad grows crops on and keeps chickens, pigs, goats and a horse. I thought about the running and how I could run on their property without a mask since no one would be there. My mom would love to train me and go back to her running past. Even as a 65 year old woman, she could beat me in a race any day. I decided to go. A change of scenery could be really nice, and by the time I got back to New York things might be better.

5 Months Later

It didn’t get better. I spent a month out in New Jersey, instead of my planned week. I ran an unofficial half marathon with my mom around the farms in their town. We saw two people the whole time, compared to the thousands in New York. Classes are still virtual, even though the school keeps claiming they are working on a hybrid plan. I’m back in my New York apartment for now, but I’m already planning another visit to my parents farm. It was so serene and quiet. The family time was much needed. When will it end?