Spectator Turned Marathoner

I decided to run the marathon to follow in the footsteps of my dad, Harold Randolph, who ran it 10 times back in the 80s and 90s. Our house was in Brooklyn on Fourth Avenue and 58th Street, just a few blocks from the course, and I have great memories of waiting on that corner to see Dad.Starting from when I was 6, my mom, my sister, and I would set up chairs and watch the race, mesmerized by all the runners. We’d spot Dad, shout, and wave, and he’d come over to give us high-fives and hugs. I knew I would run it some day.My parents moved to Middletown, NJ, a few years ago, and my family, including my wife and two kids, followed. As much as I like New Jersey, I still cherish my Brooklyn roots.When I called my dad to tell him I was running the marathon, he had a tip for me: “The crowd will pick you up and carry you through the rough patches,” he said. After spectating all those years, I know what he means.My parents, my wife, and my kids (ages 5 and 8) will go back to Brooklyn on November 2—right to the corner of Fourth Avenue and 58th Street—to watch me. I’ve been visualizing that corner—me getting high-fives and a hug from Dad—during my training runs. I can’t believe I am finally going to run the TCS New York City Marathon, and this time, my dad will be the spectator!


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