My Favorite 5K-Friends, Family and a Field Fit For Champions

Over the past few years I have developed a newfound love for charity 5Ks. The 3.1 mile-course is the perfect length to feel like you've challenged yourself without subjecting your body to torture. You can run at a strong pace throughout the whole race and just when your muscles start to ache, you see that you have less than a mile to go and you know that you can kick yourself into a higher gear while the surge of adrenaline will carry you to the finish line. Plus, since there is no need for rigid training plans to prepare, it's much easier to recruit self-proclaimed non-runners to lace up their sneakers and pound the pavement for a day to support a worthwhile cause. Most of these events, even welcome walkers to participate.
To make the event even more appealing to novice runners, many charities have found creative places to map out their 5K courses. Over the past year, I've run through the Bronx Zoo to support the Wildlife Conservation Society, and through the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel to Ground Zero, to support a children's charity that was established in honor of a firefighter who perished on 9/11. This weekend my pursuit of interesting places to run for a cause landed me on the field that is home to the 2009 World Series Champions-The New York Yankees, ofcourse!
My mom raised me to be a New York Yankee fan from a pretty early age. Even though she went through a Mets phase in the '80s (Everyone was a little crazy in that decade.), for as long as I can remember, she's been a passionate supporter of the Bronx Bomber boys. For this reason, I was excited to finally see the new stadium, but having the chance to step onto the field where Derek Jeter, Andy Pettitte and all the other great Yanks worked their magic this year was truly amazing.
Before I take you there though, let's rewind a bit, so I can take you back to the starting line. I think "giddy" would be the best word to describe me as I stood with my brother, my boyfriend and my friend, as well as other runners from our heat, all crammed in the Great Hall near the starting point. Ofcourse, I was eager to get onto that field and excited to finally run the course, but these emotions were magnified by the thought of having my friends and family there as well. I'd been able to recruit a friend or two in the past to run by my side or my parents to support from the sidelines, but this was the first time I had five fantastic people, all of whom I consider to be very important in my life, running (or walking) along the same path with me. It was one of the best feelings in the world. Even my boyfriend pushed himself to run the course even though he detests running and admits the last time he "seriously" ran was almost a decade ago and that trail was only a third of the size of the route that would take us throughout Yankee Stadium.
So there we all were - the four runners of our team waiting at the starting gate, while our two walking members took their places on the sidelines to support us before they would get their chance to stride through the ballpark. Once the horn wailed we all took off at a slow pace, distracted by the initial views of the field from the first concourse and also not wanting to separate from each other so soon. My brother, with his long legs, was the first to break from our pack after I told him he looked silly trying to reign in his stride. (The only time we'd see him again before the finish line was when I got a brief glimpse of him from across the field around the 1-mile mark.) So we became three. We all completed the first two laps around the main concourse with ease and big smiles across our faces, as the photo evidence from our two sideline fans would later show. Then, we began to dive into the depths of the stadium. As we flew down the ramps toward the field level the hallways became narrower, the temperature rose about 10 degrees and the Yankee decorations began to disappear. They were replaced by grounds crew vehicles, storage areas and other sights usually not scene by the typical ticket-holding fan. They call this the "sub-zero level." The path became darker and the air stuffy, as we no longer had the cool breeze and bright light coming off of the field, but that was about to change. After coming to the end of a long passageway, we turned a corner and bam!

There it was. The moment we all had been waiting for. We were far from the finish line, but this was the destination we were most looking forward to. As we jogged toward field, the sunlight was the first thing that hit me, but then a couple steps later I was met with one of the most beautiful sights. Bright green grass, a perfectly crafted diamond and a backdrop of seats that seemed to tower over you. Granted most of them were empty, but you could still get the feeling of having tens of thousands of eyes on you no matter which way you looked.For a few seconds each of us actually was in the spotlight, since as you made your way around the warning track, a cameraman captured you and made your image dance across the jumbo stadium screen. We tried to slow our speed, even stop at points, as we completed our two laps around the field, so that we could take it all in. Capture every detail, every angle, everything we may never have a chance to see again from this perspective. We noticed they still had the scoreboard up from the final World Series win against the Phillies!

I could have stayed there all day, but alas there were still two more miles to tackle. So again we disappeared into the dark hallway and began to climb our first set of stairs, 103 steps to be exact. This is where my boyfriend's calves started to get the best of him and he urged me to trudge forward and not wait for him. So three became two and we started to pick up the pace as we worked our way around the second-level concourse. The next set of steps brought us to the 300-tier seating, where the breathtaking bird's eye views of the stadium beckoned us to stop for a few seconds to snap photos.
With the 2-mile marking in sight we resumed the race with a renewed focus on finishing strong. We sped down the ramps, which brought us back to the 200-seating area for another lap through the concourse. Around the next stair case, my partner and I started to separate, but I knew it was time to go all out. I sprinted across the top level for the last time and then flew down what felt like a never-ending series of ramps. My stomach ached, my heart was pounding and my chest was tight from the short breathes I was taking, but I refused to stop or slow until I was over that finish line.

My brother, the same guy who told me he was incapable of running the entire course, had already been finished for a few minutes and had made his way to the free food and gift bag area. I set myself up near the finish line and captured my friend Darra cross a couple minutes later, followed soon after my boyfriend, who despite his aches and pains came charging through the finish line at what appeared to be Michael Johnson-like speed.
We all finished somewhere around 30 minutes, just in time to see my mom and aunt take off with the rest of the walkers. Mr. I-Won't-Be-Able-To-Run-Three-Miles (a.k.a. my brother) even joined them in power-walking the course and snapping silly photos along the route. I guess this was his victory lap after leaving the rest of us in his dust.
All-in-all, I'd say the day was about as successful as the Yankees' 2009 quest for their 27th World Championship and I hope this event will become an annual tradition for us all.

If you have the chance to participate in this or any 5K, whether you consider yourself a runner or not, I urge you to give it a whirl. You may surprise yourself and even if your legs are not loving you afterward, the memories you'll make and the impact you will have on that charity, will last long after your soreness subsides.