Jingling All the Way

For her fourth 5K race, Mandy chose to support a good cause, celebrate the Christmas holiday, and stay close(ish) to home. So this morning we took a brief PATH ride to Manhattan and a little stroll down to Battery Park (at the southern tip of the island) for the umpteenth-annual Jingle Bell Run/Walk for Arthritis. 

Just to clear the air: yes, we wore jingle-bells; no, I didn’t win; and yes, Santa was there—and, as Mandy will tell you, he was a very good one. 

At this point, I would normally let the pictures tell the story, but since I forgot to charge the batteries for my camera and only have a few snapshots from Tim’s phone, the burden of this post will fall on … the writing.



Arriving early, we noticed with relief that this large race was well-organized and would be supported by a small army of volunteers. Little did we know how vital their presence would be out on the course. With Christmas tunes blaring, we put our bells on and stretched as the sun came out, brightening our view of New York harbor, Governor’s Island, the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, and the glistening skyline of Jersey City. (Again, no pictures to be seen here.) Tim and I sized up the competition, picking out a dude (sporting golden locks and mustache) whom he christened “Adonis.” However, we noticed that our favorite fellow runner—“a very cut, middle-aged African-American dance genius”—was absent. After the opening ceremonies reminded us of our cause, and the Christmas angel cut the ribbon on the starting line, the “elite runners” and I moved up to the start.

Off went the siren, and off I ran. Tim and Mandy, however, got walk-blocked by hordes of walkers. So, it took them a couple minutes of elbowing and heel-kicking to reach the starting line. By that time, I was well ahead on the course, cruising easy, spurred on by each group of cheering volunteers. I soon realized that even though I had glanced at the course map, I had no idea where I was going. Fortunately, I could see clumps of volunteers far enough ahead to follow them around the waterfront neighborhood of Battery Park City. However, the neighborhood and park were rife with, well, resident and tourists. Apparently, after three races here, it seems that part of the “thrill” of running a race in NYC is maneuvering through human traffic, road obstacles, and other impediments. Yes, we may have been blessed with great weather and flat waterside courses for each race—but c’mon! Actually, the real trouble began on the return leg—when I ran smack into the other runners, and only had the vaguest sense of where the finish line was. But I found it, and not too long after, so did Tim and Mandy.

Due to incredible advances in race-timing technology, we got our results immediately, and were proud to have finished well—especially Mandy, who only walked once, and nailed her average time. In the sunshine, we recovered, snacked, and missed our dancing friend’s post-race routine.  

savoring our runner's high by the harbor and Lady Liberty

Mandy showing off her dance moves, perhaps?

finishers of four 5Ks!

my new hobby: taking pictures for tourists

 
Finally, the award ceremony began, officiated by St. Nicholaus (obviously accustomed to handing out gifts and prizes.) First, the organizers honored the largest team, which had also raised the most money for the foundation. Then, it came time for finisher awards. “Adonis” had taken first place, but apparently, took off after the race and was nowhere to be found. Dispirited by the absence of their golden boy, the race organizers decided to just pack up their table of medals. Stunned by another award denial, we strolled off to the Irish Hunger Memorial to reflect on the meaning of real loss. Famished, we booked it home for a fabulous brunch: Grand Marnier-soaked French toast, merguez sausage, and mimosas. Again, no photos, but you can take my word that it was delicious and nap-inducing.