Reflections from the NYC Marathon (or, "Why run, if Pharaoh's not chasing you?")

The New York City Marathon is truly a multicultural and awe-inspiring experience. From the multilingual banners at the pre-race expo to the spectators' signs along the course ("¡Si se puede!" and "Vive Le France" to name just two), it is clear that NY draws athletes and crowds from across the globe. Even at the Staten Island "villages" where runners gather for hours before lining up at the start, a 20 minute Port-O-Potty line is only long enough to hear two cycles of pre-recorded instructions in about a dozen languages. The energy, number of languages, and runners wearing hand-me-downs to keep warm in 30 degree weather and shed at the starting line, these villages seem like a cross between a refugee camp and Woodstock.

The race itself proves the point. I heard the crowds screaming for Italy, France, Mexico, Canada, Chile and Norway (not to mention the Ethiopian and Kenyan frontrunners). The signs and music displayed each neighborhood's style and culture, from the bagpipes of Bay Ridge, to Salsa in Sunset Park to rap and hip-hop in the Bronx and Harlem.

Miles 10-12: South Williamsburg is another story. The course brings the runners along Bedford Ave. through Hasidic Williamsburg - dozens of Hasids on each block, watching the race - and deafening silence. Hasidic men watched us out of the corners of their eyes, as if thinking, "Why run, if Pharaoh's not chasing you?" And the women and children stood nervously at the corners, contemplating the ideal time to dash in front of the runners to cross the street, seemingly annoyed that we would dare disrupt their routine, so soon after Shabbos.

The silence was broken by the hipsters of North Williamsburg and Greenpoint, who treated us to the music of the newest indy rock bands (whoever they are) that haven't sold-out yet.

Miles 15-18: First Ave came as advertised: the adrenaline-inducing crowds after the pace-killing Queensboro bridge (where, during this race, the world marathon record holder, Haile Gebrasalassie, QUIT the race and retired from running). First Avenue sported huge crowds and more countries represented than the United Nations. And I soon passed the most prominent runner of the race - the Chilean miner recently rescued from months underground.

I waved hi to some family and friends, and then got "in the zone" to power through the last 9 miles of the race.

Miles 18 to 22 were pretty much a blur, nothing to report. And I would love to forget Miles 22-24 - a increasingly steep incline up 5th Avenue to reach the final leg of the race in Central Park.

Suddenly...it was over. The last few turns through the park were the loudest, the most inspiring and most painful part of the race. And 365 yards (the 0.2 of the 26.2) has never felt so long. I would have actually preferred to run another mile, just to postpone the wave of pain which took over my legs as soon as I stopped running. But it was a good pain nevertheless - a pain that confirmed (in case there was any doubt) that I finished a marathon.

What's YOUR Religion?

On this eve of Yom Kippur, I began to think about whether running is a religion. No, seriously.

It all started when I thought about whether I was going to fast tomorrow. On one hand, even for secular Jews, Yom Kippur is the holiest day of the year, to be respected and observed. On the other hand, I am in the midst of training for the NYC Marathon coming up on November 7, and I should be concentrating on eating carbohydrates tomorrow, in preparation for my 18 mile long-run on Sunday.

But it doesn't stop there. Like various religions, which dictate what foods you can and can't eat, and when you can eat them, running is analogous. Jews can't eat pork or shellfish, Hindus can't eat beef, and runners should have a high carbohydrate, low fat diet. Runners should avoid simple sugars like white bread and candy, and focus on whole grains, brown rice and vegetables. Protein is also advised for a speedy recovery after a long run.

Judeo-Christian faiths believe that God created the world in six days, and on the seventh day God rested. Thus, Jews have designated Saturday as the holy day of rest, and Christians have Sunday. The remainder of the week is for work, or at least not for rest. So too, with running, our training schedule designates certain days for speedwork, tempo runs, easy runs and, yes, days of rest. Though God may not have created our training program, rest is an integral and necessary part.

To the chagrin of many runners, we must cut down on drinking alcohol when formally training for a long race. We follow this rule to ensure that we are able to train to 100% of our ability, without the negative effects of alcohol. We say "No" to our friends who go out for drinks on Friday nights, and instead run past the bustling nightlife to keep up with our training. Religions regulate alcohol heavily too - it is forbidden in Islam, as it is for the Mormons, and alcohol plays a very particular role for Jews and Christians' ceremonies.

Tomorrow is the Jewish day of atonement, and runners also have their sins to confess, although not in a booth - I admit that I missed my long run last weekend, and generally don't stretch enough after my runs.

Running also dictates the clothes we wear. In synagogue I wear a kippah, and I remove my shoes to enter a monastery. Some devout Islamic women wear burqas; and bishops, cardinals and monks wear robes. Some of these items are useful, and they all have meaning. On the run, we wear running shoes to protect our feet. We wear non-cotton clothing in order to wick moisture away from our bodies, which helps maintain our temperature in extreme weather. People may say the payes on Hasidic Jews look funny, but it serves an important purpose for them. For runners, in the winter, men and women both wear tights.

If religion has a goal - to understand creation, to reach heaven, or to be good to thy neighbor, then my Nirvana is crossing the finish line on November 7.

If running is a religion, I pray for an easy fast...run.

What's YOUR Religion?

(Oh, and runners don't have wars over the Faith - whether you can run 1 mile or 30, all are welcome).