How I Ended Up Lost in NYC

Well, this is one story that will be retold over and over again.

I still don’t know how Whitney (who I ran the marathon with) and I missed each other. The plans were simple: at the end of the marathon, we would meet at the letter “B” in the family meeting area and from there we would find her family. It was simple, straight-forward, and what could go wrong?! Well, something went wrong, and I ended up by myself, “lost” in NYC for 6 hours without any money or a phone. I wasn’t actually lost–I always knew where I was, but I no one else really knew where I was! Luckily I did have a warm, fleece-lined poncho that I got after the race, which kept me really warm and some food that they gave out after the race–otherwise I would have been even more miserable.

Both Whitney’s and my wave started at 9:50 a.m. With a finish time of 3:05, I was done running at about 1:00 p.m. (Click here for a full recap of the race.) The finish line chute area is a long and meandered down the streets through Central Park. After finishing, you first walk and get your medal, then walk a little further to get your Mylar blanket, followed by a bag of post-race food (an apple, pretzels, protein drink, Gatorade, and water). I continued to slowly and painfully walk down the streets of Central Park sipping on some water because I was thirsty from the race.

Due to a combination of the pretty lengthy distance to walk, plus the fact that most people are walking at a snail’s pace, it probably took me about 45 minutes to walk to the family meeting area, which is labeled with letters A – Z so people can find one another. When I got to the letter “B,” I asked a volunteer if they could look up from friend’s results. (I had the forethought to write down her bib number on the back of my bib!) He confirmed that she had finished in 3:35, so 30 minutes after I did. At this time it was nearly 2:00 p.m., so I figured I would have to wait about 30 minutes. I sat down, drank some Gatorade and ate some pretzels. Even though I wasn’t hungry, I knew I needed to start replenishing my body.

Around 2:45p.m. I was surprised I hadn’t found Whitney yet, so I started asking other runners what their finish time was. Most of them said around a 3:30/3:45 finish time, so I thought she would be close by now.

After waiting a few more minutes, I then went back to the information booth to confirm Whitney’s finish time, and the guy said her finish time was indeed 3:35 and said she should be coming in about 10 minutes. So I wait another 10 minutes. After a while, I started to wonder if she had ended up in the medical tent.

Luckily I had seen (and overheard) that the information booth had landline phones to use, so at 3:30p.m. I finally called Craig back in Alaska. I thought he might be able to send Whitney a message through Facebook or Instagram to see what happened or where she was. Craig didn’t pick up, so I left a detailed message saying that I couldn’t find Whitney and that he should try to contact her. I told him I would call him back in 15 minutes–hoping that he would pick up the next time. I knew he was in church, but it was about the time church should have been wrapping up.

I went back to the letter “B,” which really wasn’t that far from the information booth (only about 50 feet away) to scour the crowds for Whitney or her family. After 15-20 minutes I called Craig back again. He still didn’t pick up, and I left another message for him. As I was doing this, one of the ladies volunteering started lecturing me on how I needed to get something on my legs and get off my feet because I was limping. I told her I did not have any pants, and I had been sitting on the curb resting. She went off on me saying how her doctor lectured her about losing too much weight and something or another about her legs. I really didn’t understand what she was saying, but she was really upset with me! I half-listened, half-ignored her because half the time I couldn’t understand what she was trying to say and the other half I didn’t know what else I could do anyhow. Once again, I walk back to letter “B” and waited. I saw another runner who looked lost, and I asked her if she had been able to find her family. She said no, so we chatted for a while.

By this time it was past 4:00p.m., and I figured there was no point in waiting in the area anymore since I had waited for 2 hours. I figured I would have to find a way to get back to my cousin’s where I was staying in Brooklyn. I knew that most people would help point me in the right direction since I didn’t have my phone, and I was hoping someone would take pity on me and pay the $2.75 for my subway fare.

I went back to the information booth a third time to call Craig, and tell him what my plan was, but the not-so-nice volunteer was there and started yelling at me on how I shouldn’t leave this area if I was going to call someone. Come to find out, Craig had called the number back and wanted to talk to me, but every time I had called, I had walked away because I didn’t know if Craig would be able to call back. I was going to call a third time but the lady wouldn’t let me and just kept throwing a fit about what I was doing, so I left.

I left the family meeting area and walked to Columbus Circle where it was bustling with runners and people. I stood there like a lost child trying to figure out A.) where the subway was and B.) who could help me because I quickly realized that 9 out of 10 people who run the NYC Marathon are foreigners. I’d stare someone down and try to decide if they looked nice enough to help me find the subway and tell me where to go. Luckily I found two nice women who pointed me in the right direction and told me which subway to get on. The one gal even let me use her phone, and I called Craig to let him know I was going to go back to my cousin’s house.

I hobbled to the subway and stared at the map for 10 minutes trying to figure out which train I needed to take when a nice woman came and asked if I needed help. I said, “Yes, please!” I told her where I wanted to go, and she then told me which trains I needed to take. I thanked her, and then asked if she had any money–explaining that I had just run the marathon and didn’t have any on me. She said she was a senior citizen, so her card wouldn’t work for me. She told me I should wait until someone brings a stroller through the gate and sneak in that way. I quickly snuck in and found another couple that were also going to Brooklyn. I told then the exact address of my cousin’s, and they then told me which stop to get off on. Luckily I had memorized my cousin’s address. . . . or so I thought.

I got on the first train, we stopped a few times, and then I transferred to the second train. Once on that train, I started doubting myself and thought I had gone too far, so I got off. I stared at the map again for way too long, went up and down the stairs, trying to find the right way. I ask some more people for directions, once again giving them my cousin’s address. I realized I had gotten off one stop too early, so I hopped back on the train to ride it into Brooklyn.

I finally got to my stop in Brooklyn, got off the train, walked to the street corner looking for 8th Street. I was literally looking around like I had no idea where I was or where I was going (which was the truth), when someone came up behind me asking if I needed help. Once again, I said, “Yes, please!” I told him I was looking for 8th street and then rattled off the house number. He said, no worries, that was on his way home. As we walked, we chit-chatted about the race. He said he had run the marathon several years ago, and his big goal too, was to try and break 3 hours in the marathon. We got to the address of my cousin’s, but I looked around, and said this is not where he lives! But anyone could see that this was the address I kept giving people. I told the guy this wasn’t the right area, and I explained I had walked to a Whole Foods, and he said, “Oh yeah, the Whole Foods is just down the street.” I was still  confused because I knew the address, but I also knew this wasn’t the right place. We kept going back and forth–me trying to explain where my cousin lived and him pulling up maps on his phone. Finally I mentioned that my cousin lived in the Gowanus neighborhood. And a light bulb went off! He said, “oh that changes things!” He then said that I was on 8th Street SOUTH–not 8th Street. I was in the wrong neighborhood, miles away from where I wanted to be!

Then this complete stranger graciously offered to pay for an Uber because I didn’t have any money for the subway, and it wasn’t a straight shot on the subway anyhow.

By this time it was nearly 6:00p.m., completely dark, and I wanted to bawl my eyes out and be “home!” I knew I could get home eventually, but this seemed to be never ending!

I rode in the Uber for 30 minutes before finally getting to my cousins. Except the Uber driver didn’t drop me off right in front of my cousin’s house, and I was scared I was lost yet again. He told me to walk around the corner, so I walked down the street he told me to, but that wasn’t right either! I turned around, walked in the opposite direction, and FINALLY I had made it back to my cousin’s nearly 6 hours after finishing the race and 12+ hours after leaving that morning.

As soon as I got in, I broke down in front of my cousin and his wife (who I had just met the day before) crying because of everything I had just been through. I asked if Whitney had made it back, and they said she had about an hour ago. I had 22 texts, several missed phone calls, and I called Whitney right away to talk to her. She said she had looked for me for an hour at letter “B,” went to find her family, then came back to look for me again. I have NO idea how we missed each other!

My cousin and his wife had hot pizza waiting for me, made some hot tea for me, and were relieved I was back–as was I!

I then had to get Cullen and my things packed up because we had a hotel reservation in Manhattan that night. So we packed our bags and took an Uber around 8:00 p.m. to the hotel. Cullen fell asleep in the car since he had been sick for the past couple of days, and we got settled into our room by about 9:00 p.m. I had to destress by calling Craig, responding to my messages, and then took a shower before going to bed around 11:30 p.m. I wish I could say I slept like a baby that night after everything that had happened, but I was in too much discomfort from the race, and every time I rolled over my body screamed in pain.

And that’s how I got “lost” in the biggest US city. I couldn’t have done it without all of the incredibly nice people that helped me out along the way, which reminds me that there are still a lot of nice, kind people in this world.

And Moral of the story: write down the contact number of the person you are supposed to meet up with!