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Helping guide through a race is an absolute honor, but it can be a difficult and complicated task, too.
Back in 2003, I entered the lottery for the New York City Marathon. And, to my surprise, I got in. At that point in my life, at the spritely age of 28, I had never run or trained for a marathon and honestly had no clue what it was all about.
It just sounded “fun,” running a marathon that is. And what better place to do it than New York City? So, I was all-in and fired up to get started on this totally new adventure. And then I got pregnant.
The end.
(Just kidding!)
I did not end up running the New York City Marathon that year or the year after. Life as a mom took over and running was put on the back burner. Four years and two kids later, I was ready to try this marathon thing again. So, I set my sights on Boston instead of New York as it was logistically easier to deal with having two small children, and, because, well, it was Boston.
Fast forward to today, I have completed 37 marathons. And despite the fact that it has remained on my bucket list since I started this journey I still had yet to line up in New York. Until this past Sunday, that is. On November 2, I was finally heading to the Big Apple to run through the five boroughs and over all the bridges that connect them.
But instead of running for my own personal goals, I was going to run it as a guide for Joyce Cron, a friend and visually impaired runner with Team Achilles. So, yes, I was finally running New York, and yet the way it would play out for me would look a lot different than it does for those who are chasing fast times.
Joyce and I had connected through Team With A Vision (TWAV) in 2016. She needed a guide for Boston that year, and I was looking for a way to volunteer. We ran together that year and again in 2017. Both times we had a blast and Joyce absolutely crushed it.
I learned very quickly that nothing holds her back. If she wants to do it, she will figure it out. Over time, we grew close and have remained friends, checking in with each other often and seeing each other once in a while at various run related events.
Last spring, I was running Boston on my own and ran into Joyce at a TWAV event. She asked me if I might want to run the New York City Marathon with her in the fall. I gave her a resounding “Hell Yeah!” As I mentioned, I’d never run New York, though I have always wanted to, so this was a perfect way for me to both give back in running and experience one of the biggest and most epic marathons in the world. Needless to say, I got on board and signed up to guide Joyce again, our third time working together as a team, this time as members of the New York chapter of Team Achilles.
When I arrived in New York on Saturday morning and met up with Joyce in the lobby of our hotel I could tell something was off. She sat me down and told me straight up that she was not feeling well. She had no energy, no appetite and she was having dizzy spells. It was clear that this was killing her.
Joyce had come to New York to run the marathon. And the only thing she wanted to do was to get to the start feeling strong and ready to race. But this was not how she felt. And she was concerned. So, naturally, I was, too. We agreed to see how the day went and went to the expo to pick up our bibs as planned. She spoke to someone at the information desk to find out what her options were if she decided not to race. She learned that since she had qualified, she could turn her number in and get a guaranteed entry for 2026.
With that in mind, she went back to the hotel to rest and think it over. And then finally, after what ended up being a really hard day for her, both physically and mentally, Joyce made the last-minute decision to skip the race and defer her entry to the next year. Obviously, this was heartbreaking for her. But we both knew it was the right call. And while she was sad, I could also sense her relief in knowing that this burden of what to do was finally lifted.
So now, it was 8 p.m., only about 12 hours before the marathon, and I was sitting in my hotel room with a bib number for the race. I no longer had an athlete to guide. But, I also had no intention to “race” this marathon for myself. My options were to either bail all together and head home, or perhaps to see if I could find someone else who needed my assistance on race day. I confirmed with Team Achilles that I could still use my number and decided it was worth trying to find another runner who might need help.
I woke up early Sunday morning, hopped on the bus to the start on Staten Island with other Team Achilles runners and guides, with the intent of finding Karen Lewis, the woman in charge of our team, and to ask if she knew of anyone else who might need a hand.
And then fate connected me to Cindy Kuhn, another visually impaired runner preparing to run the race. She was chatting with her guide, Lindy, in the seat behind me on the bus, and we eventually all struck up a conversation. A few minutes after getting off the bus, we reconnected in the Athletes With Disabilities (AWD) tent, and I explained that I had been planning to guide for Joyce, and that she had unfortunately gotten sick, and I was now looking to see if I could help someone else.
Both Cindy and Lindy agreed that I should join them, along with secondary guide, Michael, as they could use the extra hands wrangling drink cups at aid stations and would be happy to have me along in case something went wrong. I was thrilled. And more than ready to step up. Same race. Same job. New crew. Let’s do this!
Before long, I was now walking over to the starting line with Lindy, Michael, and Cindy at the base of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. We were all fired up and ready to help Cindy cover the 26.2 miles from Staten Island to Central Park.
Racing for yourself is one thing. Running a race for another as a guide is a totally different experience. The day is all about the athlete you are assisting, not about you or how you are feeling. Your only goal is to keep them safe and get them to the finish line.
When you think, you think for your runner, not for yourself. But, you also have to keep the situation as stress-free as possible. As others are running like crazy banshees all around you, you are shielding your runner from the chaos while also remaining as calm and cool as possible. You are constantly checking in: How is this pace? Are you comfortable? Do you need fluids? Do you need to stop? And ultimately: Are you good? And if not, what can I do to make sure you are?
Lindy, Michael, and I took turns running on either side of Cindy as well as behind her, a human shield, if you will. One or two of us got her fluids at every aid station. All of us shouted to those around us if they started to veer into our path or tried to break through our shield. It was almost like Cindy was the president, and we were the Secret Service keeping her safe. And did I take it that seriously? Hell yes, I did.
As a guide, you never know what kind of shape your athlete is going to be in on race day. You hope that they have trained properly and can run strong and have fun. But, that is the ideal situation. And we all know that life is messy and things get in the way, so you can never assume things will roll out perfectly in a marathon.
Luckily for us, Cindy was an absolute rock star on the course. She had trained well, and it showed. She was able to put her trust in us and then focus on what she needed to do to have the day she wanted. She was locked in from the start and never faltered.
We all checked in with her regularly, and every time she gave us the thumbs up or a smile. She was good. We were doing what we needed to do. And so was she. By the time we got to Central Park near mile 23, we knew that she had this thing done and dusted.
We were literally flying by the flags and soaking up the scene. But it was all for her. Every few hundred meters, I would raise my hands up to get the crowd of people along the course excited about her. ‘Check this out, everyone! This amazing woman is visually impaired and clearly nothing is stopping her. Let’s give her the recognition she deserves!’
After 3 hours and 39 minutes of running, we crossed the finish line with smiles on our faces. We high-fived and hugged and high-fived some more. We were all so elated. We had done it. But, really, Cindy had done it! We were just along for the ride. Cindy had achieved her goal of completing the NYC marathon. And my day was a huge success for that and that alone.
It is such an absolute honor to guide another runner in a race. It truly feels like a gift to me. It requires that you take a step back and rethink how you are going to tackle an incredibly challenging task at hand. It gives you the opportunity to see the race from a different point of view. And, in the end, you have to remind yourself that running is not all about the clock, but in this case, how we make the experience special for others around us.
On Monday morning, less than 24 hours after we finished, I saw Cindy again in the hotel lobby. We hugged and she was just smiling ear to ear. Pure joy. “I just had so much fun”, she told me again. Mission accomplished.
Boston-area editor-at-large Rebecca Trachsel is a mom, a competitive age-group marathoner, a high school cross country and track coach, and music lover with a coffee problem. She’s still chasing big goals and having a blast along the way.
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