Early Cleanup for NYC Marathon Wasn’t Pretty

Participating in the annual New York City Marathon is rewarding for both runners and non-runners. For men and women, the feat is inspiring in a time of financial trouble and peaks of national obesity. The race started off promising enough, with Meb Keflezighi's triumphant and touching win as an American runner, pushing New Yorkers encumbered with post-Halloween hangovers to the streets to cheer on the non-professional athletes participating in the great race. "After struggling my whole life with body issues," one runner explained to me, "being a part of the New York marathon makes me feel beautiful ... knowing that I've set my mind to crossing that finish line has changed my life and the way I've experienced self image." A touching admittance from a woman nearing the tail-end of the 26-mile race on the corner of 86th Street in Manhattan. With 7 miles to go at around 1:30pm, the woman was surrounded with comrades, breast cancer survivors, first-time runners, a woman who beat anorexia through marathon training, blind runners, those with Parkinson's disease, and even runners using arm braces to complete the race. It was one of the most inspiring things that a New Yorker could witness, but less than 30 minutes later, we were forced to stop the cheering.

Just after 2pm the barricades were removed, and we were asked to keep the sidewalks clear. A sanitation worker shooed us from the street as runners side stepped men sweeping up the streets. A few minutes later, 2nd Avenue was opened up as the marathoners jogged in slight terror next to Penske trucks. A woman choking back tears came to take an orange slice that was being handed out streetside, informing us of how she was feeling. “I was so proud of what I was doing today,” she said “We’re all raising money for charities and trying to complete a tough race, and it feels like that are forcing us to stop early.”

“I watch this race from this street corner every single year, and this is way too early for them to be shutting it down,” a non-runner said, shaking his head. Behind him, an injured war veteran, part of the Achilles Freedom Team of Wounded Veterans, makes his way down the street, carrying the flag of a fallen soldier on his backpack in the midst of huge street-sweepers already actively cleaning up the street.

“I don’t want to sound dramatic,” one bystander tells me, “but he would probably have been running down this street lined with people cheering him on had he run last year.” He shakes his head, “it’s not as if these are the few stragglers ... there are still a ton of runners, look!” He pointed to groups of runners forced to run on the sidewalk. “I don’t think Bloomberg would be happy to know that sanitation was cleaning up this city morale booster at a measly 2pm.”

It’s understandable that leaving the course open “for the 4 percent of people who need more than 8 hours to complete the race” is costly, as highlighted by the New York Times piece on ”plodders," it is important to note that most marathons keep their tracks open for around 7 hours. But in the face of a crappy economy, Wall Street stress, and other bubble bursters, turning off the faucet of inspiration around the five-hour mark wasn’t pretty.

Photo