The Grand Trip of the Year Meets the "New Yorker Blend"

Dear 5th of November, 

“The grand trip of the year,” I told Robertico, my mum’s cousin, my ‘uncle.’ It was his and my godmother, Adriana’s, long-waited expedition, the NYC Marathon. 42 kilometers or a little over 26 miles of running through the beautiful and historic streets of Brooklyn, The Bronx, Queens, Manhattan, and Staten Island, getting the full blown experience of New York’s skyline.

Personally, I don’t know why people sign up for this type of endeavor, but hey, you do you. In addition to willingly signing up for hours of suffering, sweating, cramps for the next week, or 7, the runners also experienced the often overlooked melting pot of smells. Nevertheless, it seems like a really fun running experience filled with laughter, connection (50,000+ runners, like what!?), music, dancing, small bands playing across the whole track, and people holding signs out with humorous sayings. Here were my top 3:

• "Run like millennials run from commitment"

• "Run like your mum just used your full name"– Coming from a Latin American household, this one brought me immense amounts of nostalgia.

• "Why???" So true.

From my time in NYC, my dear family told me NYC is a melting pot of ethnicities and nationalities, a blend so thorough one can probably find at least 20 different people, per block, that cumulatively speak over 10 languages, a truly diverse place. BUT, (yes there is a big but), they failed to mention the melting pot of smells and shit (literally), and let me tell you it is present and persistent like the buzzing of mosquitoes during camping trips. I have decided to call the peculiar blend of New York, you guessed it, the “New Yorker Blend”. Inspired by the infamous “New England smell” (pot), the New Yorker Blend blend of smells, consists of secondhand weed haze, rat or human feces (you can never be too sure in New York), and the memorable hint of piss at every building corner or slightly darker than usual building entrances. 

Jokes aside, the day of the New York Marathon was a blast. Upon arriving in New York, which I did at around 7:20 at Central Station, and before settling at this relatively ‘fancy’ cafe and bakery called “Heritage,” which let me tell you was delightful, I wondered about the area of Central Station (near Bryant Park). Being the city that never sleeps, I experienced, first-hand, the wave of early morning workers in their various work outfits. It was fascinating to see the mix of formal attire, casual, hippie, and ‘drippy’ (speaking my brother’s lingo here), knowing many do similar professions yet dress so distinctly. The mix of colors people wear in New York to express themselves, whether it be a simple Central Park walk, or gym clothing, or work, it is all so lively it honestly is a beautiful sight in itself. On my next trip to New York, I will make sure to bring my camera to appreciate and forever cherish the beautiful clothing scenery of modern day New York.

Soon after my walk, I sat at work and wrote essays at “Heritage” as previously stated (this is not an ad but I wouldn’t mind a sponsor, speaking to you Heritage bakery). It was in this bakery that I met the cashier, a true sight of a human being. Before I knew it, it was 9:20 a.m., and I had planned, alongside some of my high school friends in New York, to meet at Bryant Park to ice skate at 9:30. Conveniently, I was already next door to Bryant Park!

It was lovely catching up and exchanging with one another on the vivid ice-rink of Bryant Park, surrounded by nature, trees and vines, and the tall skyscrapers. Despite the laughter and smiles we shared, I will say that it frightens me seeing others fall on ice (I hope I didn’t just jinx my next ice-skating adventure). Post ice skating, we walked around the “Christmas market,” which was an array of kiosks set up around Bryant Park, offering food, accessories, clothing, ornaments, and more (I got a burger hehe). All the Christmasy stuff people love to spend their money on kinda markets. 

The market, in itself, poised my mind with nostalgia. Coming from Thailand, the "Christmas Market" at Bryant Park felt like a more spread out and slightly colder (temperature-wise) version of Chatuchak market in Bangkok, Thailand, just in the middle of New York City. After my friends left, I headed back to the bakery, not to meet the cashier who too happened to be adorable, but rather to get another treat (and a free Chai-latte, thank you cashier) before walking to mile 24 to cheer on my aunt on her run!

Succeeding my walk up 5th avenue to where mile 24 was, following the section of the marathon that turned into Central Park, I waited for her passing. “VAMOS TÍA!” I shouted as I saw her jog by; she was jogging, not walking (that was Robertico). Unfortunately, my godmother did not hear or see my efforts to motivate the ‘final push’ of the marathon; however, she had previous interactions with friends and family along the course, which she had later told me about.

Following my attempt at motivating Adri, I met her at the finish line of the race, where we unexpectedly encountered Lucas, his girlfriend, and his parents—a dear friend I made during my time in Boston thanks to Adri. He's cool, humorous, and works for this consultancy firm in New York, oh and he went to Brown (I hope to be a fellow alumni)!

Ultimately, following the celebration and congratulations for the dried-up salt on their faces after enduring 42 freaking kilometers of running, and a broken toenail (shoutout to Adri), we bid farewell. They headed to their car, and we returned to mile 24, once more, to rendezvous with some family and witness Roberto’s final steps before reaching the finish line

After patiently waiting for Roberto to turn into mile 24 so we could say “Hi, here is your family giving you emotional support!… Can we go now?” He finally appeared. A debut like no other, he wasn’t walking, a feat we were not expecting at all. Once the race settled, we congratulated Roberto and Adriana with their newly acquired shiny New York Marathon medals and bright orange capes that screamed 'made in China,' at the zenith of American coffee culture, a nearby Starbucks, closing the chapter with a bang, or shall I say, with $6.99 dollars plus tax less in our bank accounts for ice and water with a little caffeine.

To end the night, we had a wonderful dinner at an Italian restaurant called "Serafina," which, to my surprise, was a franchise. I normally associate franchise restaurants with lower-quality food and overly clean floors (not). However, this one shattered the negative stereotypes associated with franchising. The service was exceptional, and our server had a cool Italian accent that added an 'authentic' touch to the experience. I ordered lasagna, and it was delicious. The flavor profile packed a nice punch, with what, in my opinion, was the perfect amount of seasoning. The only concern I might have next time is that the pasta layers were a little overcooked. Nonetheless, it was a delightful end to November 6th, a pleasant surprise indeed.

This brings me to my conclusion. My first day in New York City: early exploration of the New York morning in fall (highly recommend), ice-skating with friends, tasty treats, cute cashiers, cheering family at one of the world’s most important races, walking all throughout Central Park, and failing to convince Roberto that stretching after running 42 kilometers as a 50-year-old was probably a good idea was not a day to disappoint.