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I have just registered for the 2007 New York City Marathon lottery.  I am hoping that I will get an entry this year in order to defer for 2008.  While it is costly (you have to pay the reg fee twice), you know you’ll get in at some point.

I was extremely lucky when I got my entry for the 2006 marathon.  When I first set my sights on New York ’06, I had no idea that I even had to enter a lottery.  I emerge from the 2006 lottery and race a hell of a lot wiser about all the processes, and with a love for the marathon and the city that will hopefully bring me back every couple of years.  This race will always bring back amazing memories, some tears (I get a bit emotional talking about the race—it was just such a phenomenal experience), and the pride you have in knowing you’ve tackled the largest and loudest marathon in the world.  The city welcomes every single runner—whatever reputation New York City has, all is dropped in order to encourage the runners and have a city-wide party.

A few things I haven’t mentioned in regard to the marathon which were highlights:

• After the marathon was over and IP and I were trying to get back to where we were staying, we walked up Park Avenue for a few blocks. During this time, a few people congratulated me on my finish. “Good job,” a woman said, lightly touching my elbow. “Bravo,” a man said as he walked by. “Congratulations,” another woman said. New York has its reputation for being rude, but I didn’t see it at all that day. Even a couple hours after my marathon’s end and as the sun set, the pedestrians on Park Avenue were still on their own marathon high. Thanks for treating the sore woman still wrapped in her heat shield like an elite runner.
• Mentioned briefly in the comments on the marathon race report post was the guy who passed me somewhere in Brooklyn. He was chatting on his cell phone (I saw many people with cells or Bluetooth earpieces—a bit disconcerting at first, but I was happy to hear they were speaking about the marathon rather than conducting business) as he passed me. “My legs are hurting,” he said in a smooth Italian accent into his phone, “because I am kicking so much ass.” I laughed out loud.
• I never really spoke of visiting New York back in the summer, but I must admit here that I wasn’t that impressed.  Sure, good restaurants, lively pace, but compared to the austerity and drive of DC I was sort of meh at first (sorry, IP).  Remember, though—DC has a high place in my heart regardless of its corruption, so don’t fault me too much.  I now take back what I thought about New York, though—after doing this marathon, it wasn’t possible not to fall in love with the city.

I really hope New York invites me back for some more good times.  This time, I’ll run with my name on my shirt; this time, I’ll know how to dress for the morning; this time, I’ll know how to make the wait for the start as comfortable as possible; this time, I hope to beat my first marathon time; this time, I will know the words to “Theme From New York, New York.”