For most of the 1990s, we have been ringing the New Year into the Hudson Valley with a New Year's Day Marathon. The first several years we ran the Mostly Maniacs Marathon in Palenville, New York. A few years ago, we moved the Marathon to my home in northern Dutchess County.
For the past few years we had been discussing adding a New Year's Eve marathon, giving us "Two Days, Two Years, Two Marathons". As we were sitting around talking after last year's marathon, we realized that if we didn't do it when the year rolls over from 1999 to 2000, when will we ever do it? It seemed presumptuous to be talking about two marathons in two days, in a year we had no marathon finishers, but the die was cast.
As 1999 progressed, I knew this was how I wanted to end the year, and start the next. The main question was where we would hold the New Year's Eve run. We could always do the Northern Dutchess course twice, but that would be boring, especially for me. In late summer, when Dick suggested we resurrect the Mostly Maniacs course for the New Year's Eve marathon, I was ecstatic. It seemed appropriate to ring out the 1990s the same way we rang in so many years in the 90s, running around Little Roundtop Mountain in Greene County. The only remaining issue was to get some training in.
Earlier in the year, my ability to run back to back marathons was not in question. As 1999 wore on, and my daughter Claudia became older and more mobile, training time became a more precious commodity. My last scheduled long run was a three hour tour, run two weeks before the end of the year. The run took enough out of me, that I really had to question my ability to run even longer, and come back and do it again the next day. I attributed the crash to not snacking during the run, but it still nagged at me. The following week, an inadvertent two hour run went smoothly and pleasantly. Maybe two marathons in two days won't kill me after all.
Leading up to the end of the year, Dick Vincent, my partner in this escapade would ask if I really thought I could do it. What could I say? I intend to run both marathons.
On the morning of our first amble, I got up a little after 8:00, ate some breakfast and got dressed. I got Kay up around 8:30, and we transferred a pajama clad Claudia into the car, which had already been loaded with several gallons of water, sports drink, and strange varieties of fake food in case anyone wanted it. By now my Power Bars are several years old. I should probably discard them, rather than try to give them to a starving marathoner.
Turnout at Dick's Cliffhouse was excellent. Whether to pre-atone for the debaucheries to come, or to get one more run in before Y2K ends civilization as we know it, a bunch of runners came out for the run and fellowship. Temperature is 27 degrees for the 10:00 start. This is a good 20 degrees warmer than our typical Mostly Maniacs weather, but I think we'll survive.
In addition to me and Dick, Paul Schmidt from San Diego intended to run the full Marathon. Fred Stewart said that if he felt good enough he would also run the full course. By my standards, Fred is a very low mileage runner, so I was not assuming he would finish. Kathy Cremen and a few others were free lancing, going as far as they felt like running, then hopping into a support vehicle. Joe Haas started with us and was running as a two man relay with Rob Mueller.
Running only a half Marathon, Joe can't handle much of our pace and takes off. We run the first mile in 9:09. This is misleading, because it includes a large, steep downhill. Joe is long gone.
The course features a 5 mile out, a 16 mile loop around Little Roundtop, then the 5 miles back. In the early wooded section, we look more like the Mostly Incontinence Marathon than the Mostly Maniacs Marathon. One runner continually rejoins the field in time for another to duck into the woods.
Six miles into the run, after a brief stretch on route 32, I am ready to eat my first gel. I get it out of my pocket, when I realize that the vast chicken houses of Sunrise Farms do not provide the idea atmosphere for eating anything. I put the packet back in my pocket, and wait a mile or so.
Dick and Paul are experienced ultra runners, and can handle endless ten minute miles. At that pace, my form falls apart and becomes extremely inefficient. I pick it up a bit. Time goals are nearly irrelevant in my attempt to run both marathons, but I wouldn't mind finishing both in under four hours. When Fred realizes I have pulled away, he becomes anxious and runs mile 9 in 7:30. He tries to settle back into my pace, but can't really relax. He says he has never run negative splits in his life. I suggest this may be a good day to try.
For the next few miles Fred pulls away. I try to ignore him. Fred's pace should have no bearing on my marathon, and certainly not on tomorrow's. I run the next few miles in the low eight minute range. It's faster than planned, but really doesn't feel too bad.
As I pass the half marathon just shy of two hours, I notice Fred coming back to me. The next time he sees Kay, he requests food, drink anything. He left his water bottle in one of the cars touring the course, and inadvertently left his snacks in his own car. Kay happily gives him a Cliff Bar, and as much water as he wants.
Dick and I always bill these runs as self aided, so as not to give expectations we may not be able to fulfill. In reality, we end up with the highest aid to participant ratio you are likely to find. With three cars touring the course, we were never far from water, or any other succor we may require.
I catch Fred around mile 16 as we turn onto Acra-Round Top Road. From here it is mostly a straight shot to the finish. There are 10 miles left to go, some hilly, but to me this section feels like the home stretch to me. I expect to run with Fred for a while, but he finds another burst of speed. He gains about 220 yards on me, and stays there for a few miles.
The section after the Roundtop Firehouse is called Heart's Content Road. It is my favorite stretch on the entire course, as we run on a wooded road, with a stream dancing from side to side. It is a little less magical this year than usual, with the brownness of November stubbornly surviving this late into the year. It's still pleasant. How can we be so close to the tackiness of the Catskill Game Farm?
We run another brief stretch of Route 32, then are really on our way back home. I catch Fred around mile 22. He is showing less life than before, but hasn't totally bonked. Maybe I should run in with him, but I don't want to stretch my day any more than necessary.
At mile 25 I hit the hill made famous by Ralph Nader in his monograph "Unsafe at any speed". I'm not ready to lay down by the side of the road like Johnny Amaro did back in 1995, but I'd rather not be running it either. It is with great relief that I hit the turn off to the Cliffhouse. I finish in 3:45:41. How will this faster than intended pace affect me tomorrow when I run a marathon all over again? I guess we'll just have to find out.
Fred finishes in 3:48:44. This is an excellent run, as he joins a select group of runners who have run their personal best at Mostly Maniacs Marathon. Paul is a devoted non watch wearer, believing that clock watching can spoil the joy of a run. There is considerable truth in this, but we know he finished in roughly 4:20. Dick was four minutes behind in 4:24.
Finishing a Marathon so well was a great accomplishment for Fred, and he has no intentions of trying to make it two in a row. Paul will be spending New Year's Day flying from Hartford to San Diego. We try to convince him that my house in Red Hook is on the way to Hartford, but he is not swallowing the line.
Whatever other company Dick and I have on New Year's Day, we will be alone in attempting to complete the Marathon double.
Once home, I take a nap to rest up for tomorrow's activities. It's hard to know if I have eaten enough. Food-wise it has been a very strange day. Most of our preparations for tomorrow have already been done. Kay bakes a cake, while Claudia and I do some last minute cleaning. I am finished slightly after 11:00, so we may as well stay up one more hour. We toast 2000 with a glass of Le Fin du Monde. Now it's bedtime.
I get up shortly after 7:30. After eating some breakfast, I head out to put water and sports drink at miles 3.5, 7, 10 and 13.1. It is an out and back course, so this means if all other aid falls apart there will still be seven chances to load up. It is twenty degrees, but the forecast calls for the temperature to rise into the forties.
Our first guests, Dick and Kathy, show up at 9:30. Joe and Rob show up to run another relay. Rich McNally will run the first half with Joe, then Rob will take over. Poughkeepsie Journal writer Pete Collaizo shows up. He will be running the course as a relay with Larry Phillips. The time leading up to the 10:00 start goes much more quickly today than it did yesterday.
As we are lining up, Wes Mburu shows up. Kathy has left her car at the Rhinecliff train station near the 8 mile mark. She and Wes will run as far as they feel like, and head back to the car.
Shortly after we start, we run into Al Grigul, director of the Mad Dash 10K in Rhinebeck. He turns around and runs with us for a few miles.
My body feels good, generally free of muscular soreness and stiffness. Surprisingly, the only body parts that are complaining at all are my knees. Surprising, because I haven't had a knee twinge in years. I think my tights did some strange rubbing on tendons. I'm wearing the same pants, so I guess I'll have the same rubbing.
Joe, Rich and Pete take off, while the rest of us hang back. We go through the first three miles in about a half hour. I don't know how many ten minute miles I can handle without stiffening up, so I pick it up a bit while Dick drops back. Wes runs with me, and Kathy goes back to run with Dick. This works well. We both should have company for nine or ten miles. My next few miles hover in the mid eights.
The first seven miles are gently downhill in net, with a sharper descent in mile eight as we reach river level in the Hamlet of Rhinecliff. The middle nine miles are challenging. The turnaround at Vandenburgh Cove is also at river level, but there is a considerable highland in between. The climb south of Rhinecliff is the second largest hill of the course. I wonder what will happen to my pace when Wes and I part company. At mile ten, Wes heads back to the car, and I throw in an eight minute mile. I guess he wasn't pushing me along after all.
When we hit an abandoned industrial site at mile 11 I see a view I hadn't noticed before. Throughout the run, the views are of the Hudson River to the west, with the Catskill Mountains in the background. I can't figure out what this view to the east is. Am I actually looking south toward the Hudson Highlands or northeast, to the Taconic Ridge near the Massachusetts, Connecticut border? I'm still not sure.
Now it's time to find Vandenburgh Cove. We cross falls of the Landsman and Fallsburg Kills, as we approach river level. Sometime after 12 miles, I see Pete waiting by his car, and then Larry running past. As I prepare to turn into the development where we turn around, Rob comes charging out, dressed very lightly. It occurs to me that I should probably shed some layers. I begin undressing. I want to remove my fleece top, and will have to change my undershirt. The one I am wearing is soaked, and would make for an unpleasant single layer, even in these balmy conditions. I think it would be fun to enter the turn around shirtless, then sense prevails. What if Kay isn't there waiting for me? I wait until I see the car, before undressing. I get my new shirt, trade my fleece gloves for lightweight liners, and trade my wet earband for a dry one which I don't wear anyway. I tell Kay that if I bonk, I'll be underdressed. I don't know what I expect her to do with this information. I take a big hit of sports drink, and go through the half in 1:58:35. Running negative splits and running sub four are close to the same goal.
As I run out of the development, Dick looks like he is handling the run pretty well. I run well out of this depth, scaling the tough fifteenth mile in 8:21. My concern going into the run was how I would be feeling at this point. I feel fine. It would be nice to beat my time from yesterday, but I'm not counting on it.
My knees loosened up nicely long ago, but now another normally benign body part is bothering me. My toenails hurt. Forty miles in the same shoes, and they've had enough. I should have clipped my nails about a week ago, and now am paying the price for this slothfulness.
At mile 16 I take another big pull of sports drink. I've been hitting the drink and gel more heavily today than yesterday, with the belief that I may be going in at a bit of a deficit. At mile 19, I get a new bottle of water and trade one purple glove liner for another. The one I was wearing had a hole in it. Given the temperature, my exposed finger wasn't cold, but the hole was annoying me.
After mile 19, I turn onto River Road. From here, it is a straight, slightly uphill shot to Annandale. I feel a slight quiver in my thigh. It is more a reminder to stay hydrated, than a declaration that something is going wrong.
Mile 21 is at the mansion formerly known as Valeur. Maybe it still is, but now that it is once again a private residence, who knows? I take one more aid break, and tell Kay I won't need her the rest of the way.
The closer I get the more familiar the route becomes. With four miles to go, I am on my Upper Hook loop. After I cross the Kingston-Rhinecliff bridge approach with 3.5 miles to go, I am on road I have run hundreds of times before. In case my mind or body falls apart, familiarity should help bring me home. I see the 3.5 mile drop bag has been removed. I wonder why that happened. I thought it looked pretty official.
There is an uncommon amount of traffic here today, and most of it is moving quickly. As long as we don't cut every tangent it should be OK. The house at mile 24 is taking advantage of the weather by burning leaves. It is beyond me how on this several acre property, they don't have room for the leaves to decompose and provide humus, but they are burning leaves. The smoke is acrid. I'd like to pick up the pace to get away from it, but that would require me to breathe more deeply.
Soon I cross the Barrytown Road, run past the Anglican church, and through the last set of orchards. I can see Annandale. I am almost home. I turn right and climb up out of the bed of prehistoric Lake Albany. I cross route 9 G, and am in my neighborhood. Nothing can stop me now. I reach the stone post where the run starts and finishes, and stop my watch at 3:44:13. I end 1999 with a 3:45:41 Marathon, and begin 2000 with a 3:44:13 Marathon. Begging the indulgence of the Gregorian purists, that's Two Days, Two Millennia, Two Marathons.
Some forty minutes earlier, the relay teams had waged a vigorous duel right up to the end. Rob finally caught Pete, only to learn that Pete and Larry were not running a simple half marathon each, but were trading off at short intervals. Pete hands off to Larry who takes off like a shot. Rob's main goal was a good, hard run, but this whetted his competitive spirit. He caught Larry shortly before the post. Linden Acres has seldom seen such excitement.
Dick was still ambling on, with support and companionship provided by Wes and Kathy. He finished in 4:18, six minutes faster than the previous day.
The runs themselves were great fun. The food and friendship which follow make this as good a way as I can imagine to start a New Year.
Steven Cangemi
Back to Annandale