Lance And Me
Icaught up with Lance Armstrong on the downside of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge around mile two. I was going a bit faster and suddenly was faced with a damn tough decision. I figured some opportunities are just too good to pass up, and I had a pretty major one right in front of me. I thought to myself, Should I pass right by him, or should I slow down a little and run with someone who is arguably the greatest athlete ever?
As I pulled up along his right side, I said, “Welcome to marathon running, Lance. It’s great to have you join us.” He said, “Thanks.” I went on to say, “You’re with the group you need to be to break three hours.” I knew from reading the Lance article in Runner’s World that his goal was to break three hours and figured I would do what I could to help him.
I guess my spoken words answered the silent question I was now asking myself. I was in fact going to put my all-out race plans on hold as long as we were at or under three-hour pace and run with Lance.
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Lance Armstrong, Gary Allen (812), and Joan Benoit Samuelson (obscured) on the Wills Avenue Bridge, entering the Bronx, near mile 20.
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II glanced around to make sure I wasn’t merely in the way but was a useful part of the rolling party. The guy wearing black in front of me with a very familiar stride turned out to be none other than Alberto Salazar, New York City Marathon champion and running legend. I also spoke to him. I mentioned that I was hoping to notch my 43rd sub-3:00 and that I felt Lance was right where he needed to be. Hearing this, Alberto said to Lance, “Did you hear that this guy has run 42 sub-3:00s?” On the other side of me, wearing yellow, was German Silva from Mexico (also a former New York City Marathon champ). As the miles went by, I had many interesting short conversations with Lance and his pace team.
THE BEST TICKET IN TOWN The best aspect of all was having a front-row seat to the absolute hysteria on the streets of New York City created by the passage of Lance Armstrong. Without exaggerating, I saw men and women screaming in the way you see only in those old Beatles news clips. I really doubt that the mostly obscure elite runners up front were enjoying any more rock-star status than was reserved for Lance. I would not have been surprised one bit had women started tossing their undergarments. I know I saw more than one in tears clutching their faces as we passed.
A fellow Maine runner and old friend, Joan Benoit Samuelson, jumped in at 10 miles where Alberto stepped off the course. I gradually worked my way over to her side and said, “Hi.” We shook hands and went about our work. The energy in this group was all about doing what we all could do to help Lance and to welcome him to our sport. It was electric.
Flash forward to about 30K, and I noticed Lance had started to get quiet. I kept encouraging him by saying things like, “Maintain your momentum and just relax.” Everyone in the group was handing him cups of water. When we crossed the Willis Avenue Bridge heading into the Bronx at mile 20, I found myself again at a place where I had to start making hard decisions. Our split was 2:15-plus, and I knew that to break three hours we couldn’t slow down much.
Hicham El Guerrouj, the current world record holder in the mile, jumped in at mile 20. I was expecting him as both Alberto and Joanie said he would be there. Again I felt that I needed to slap myself back into reality, as what I thought several hours ago was going to be just another marathon was turning out to be anything but.
I told Lance, “From here on it’s a whole different strategy. We’re gonna do one mile at a time and not think beyond the mile we’re in.” He nodded. At mile 21, which we covered in 6:53 by my watch, I told Lance, “Great work. Now pat yourself on the back and let’s go after mile 22.”

Again, I was watching the total elapsed time and had to make a decision. It was starting to feel like a sub-3:00 was slipping away from us. I really wanted to attempt to notch another sub-3:00, but I also wanted to continue to help Lance.
We were just a tick or two above 7:00 for mile 22, and I suddenly reached my invisible limit at about 22 1/2 and without a word just took off as hard as I could go. I know from years of running these things that it is almost an unspoken
law in marathon running that it’s OK to do what you must over the last 10K. No marathoners would ever want anyone to wait for them, so I was going to do all I could to get below 3:00 and Lance would be just fine.
I rationalized this by saying to myself that I had helped as much as I could and it seemed that even Lance Armstrong couldn’t gut it out for four more miles. I have been in the inevitable position that Lance seemed to be nearing, the realization
that your fuel gauge is on empty and you have not yet reached the finish line. From my observations, Lance was hurting, and I figured he would probably notch a still-solid 3:05. My thoughts were behind me as I crossed the finish line.
Although I was pleased with meeting my goal, I felt torn as I wanted to finish the job I had started with Lance that morning.
Later that day, while watching television in my hotel room, I learned that Lance had crossed the finish line in 2:59:36. This was the Lance Armstrong that we all saw devastate the best bike riders on the planet for seven years in a row at the
Tour de France. Any marathoner knows that when the wheels start to come off over the last 10K, the likelihood of putting them back on is from slim to none. Only a superathlete like Lance could find another gear, and he showed me just
how tough and relentless he is by gutting it out over those last four miles. I respect and admire him for what he has done and respect him even more now that I’ve witnessed, up close, just how tenacious he is.
Some races you remember by the speed with which you cover the ground, others you never forget by what happens between the start and the finish lines. The 2006 New York City Marathon is one I’ll never forget. As I said when I first crossed paths
with him, “Welcome to marathon running, Lance. It’s great to have you join us.” At press time, Gary Allen had completed 47 career sub-3:00 marathons, with a goal of reaching 50 before turning 51 in January 2008.
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© Mary Ropp/crowrunning.com
HE TURNED OUT TO BE TOUGHER THAN I THOUGHT

This article originally appeared in Marathon & Beyond, Vol. 11, No. 5 (2007).
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