49 marathons and counting, one wheelchair push at a time

Seventeen years ago, while on a 24-hour bus ride to Daytona Beach for spring break, a simple conversation between myself and a good friend ignited a new and exciting chapter in my life. The conversation was concerning goals that we would like to achieve in life. As we talked, I brought up one goal that intrigued my buddy. I told him I had always dreamed of completing a marathon. Needless to say, the rest is history. After a few years of doing these 26.2-mile endurance races I set another goal for myself: completing 50 career marathons. However, after a night on the town in Providence with my close friend Vinny Paz, my goal changed. Anyone who followed boxing in the mid-’90s and Paz’s career would know he retired with 50 wins. He used to tell everyone that I wanted to do 50 marathons to be just like him. I thought this was funny and we used to joke about it every time we hung out, this was until one day when I came up with the idea to adjust my goal. I immediately had my assistant call up Paz and tell him I was going for 51 marathons, just to have one up on him. He began laughing and said, “You tell that little punk if he does that I’m going find out where his 51st marathon is and I’m going to hide behind a tree just before the finish line and tip him over in his chair so he doesn’t get to 51.” We both laughed and we still joke about it till this day. This year is my 16th racing in marathons. In late January, I started training for my 48th and 49th career marathons. Number 48 would be on April 19 at the Boston Marathon, and number 49 would be May 2 in Providence at the Cox Marathon. Last year was not one of my best years racing. Between a severe foot injury, awful weather and some other mishaps, my times suffered quite a bit, so this year I was even more determined to train harder and perform much better. This winter I trained five days a week running, and six days a week weight training at Gold’s Gym in Cranston. I trained a different way this year; I decided to concentrate on building my explosive power instead of my speed. By this I mean I lifted heavier and pushed my chair on snow, ice and grass. I hardly did any road work. I also trained in every type of weather. I remember one day I ran on a soccer field in West Warwick, and there must have been a foot of snow out there. I probably only went 50 yards in an hour, but looking back now I feel that day was one of my best leg workouts of the season. Going into Boston I felt strong and excited. Not only was this my 48th career marathon, it was also my 16th consecutive time racing the Boston Marathon. Although I felt strong I knew it would be virtually impossible to achieve a personal record. You see, each year the officials in Boston give me less and less of a head start, which ends up giving me a shorter and shorter amount of time on the course while streets are still closed to traffic. I was right on pace (3:42) up to the 11-mile mark, this was when the streets were reopened to traffic and whomever is still out on the course is essentially on their own, and forced to the sidewalks for the remainder of the race. For a wheelchair athlete such as myself, the sidewalks kill my time, not to mention I still had to conquer the legendary Heartbreak Hill (six miles of hills). I knew getting frustrated would not help, so I decided to disregard my time and concentrate only on finishing. I was way off my scheduled pace but still felt very strong. As the miles went by I knew I was growing closer to my 16th consecutive finish of the famed Boston course. I crossed the finish line in a time of 10:14: not my best time, however not my worst.

People often ask me: Why do you go back to Beantown every year? There are a few reasons, but the number one reason is: the fans. Over the years I have become well-known at this race. I hear cheers like, “Go Jay go!” or “You are such an inspiration!” all along the route. In recent years, I have been seeing more and more people gather at the finish line hours after the last runners have crossed. These wonderful supporters of mine wait there just to cheer me on to the finish. It really gives me the chills to see how emotional some of my loyal fans become. They really seem to grasp the whole premise of a marathon. They understand that even the slowest athletes are doing the best they can, and deserve just as much support as the “elite” runners. I just hope someday the officials in Boston will be as open minded as the spectators.

Following Boston I took a couple of days off to heal a bit, but then it was right back to training for the Cox Sports Marathon in Providence: #49. This was really the marathon that I had my sights on this year. Last year, when I competed in this 26.2-mile race it was a total disaster. I had a severely injured my right foot, it was rainy and cold, and I ended up getting lost and totally off the course. After more than 13 hours I crossed the finish line, which was no longer there. Let’s just say I was exhausted, humiliated, and just disappointed in my overall performance. The only thing that comforted me a little was that I kept my consecutive finishing streak alive. This is why this I wanted to redeem myself this year and post a great time. I also wanted to go all out because I knew, this being my 49th career marathon, it would probably be one of my last chances to race in a marathon in front of my home fans.

I couldn’t have asked for a better day. Unlike most runners, I enjoy racing in the heat. This is because of my Cerebral Palsy. When it’s cold or wet my muscles tense up, this makes it harder for me to go quickly. Along with having perfect weather, I was injury-free this year. Another big factor was the help from my new friend Melissa Harper and her friend Chris, who helped keep my pace steady. At the start I was a little bit slow, however after five or six miles I loosened up and made my time up. This year there were more spectators along the course; this helped to encourage me to keep up the pace. As I approached the halfway point of the marathon, my time was a little over three hours; at this point I knew I had a strong chance of achieving my goal of completing the course in less than eight hours.

I felt stronger and stronger as the miles ticked by, this was a pleasant surprise because usually the pain in my joints increases over time, not my power. Making my way back into Providence, a feeling of excitement began to take hold of me. When we hit the 23-mile mark, my time was just over six and one half hours; this was when I knew for sure I had it in the bag. After crossing a few more bridges we finally reached Kennedy Plaza. My time this year was so fast, I was able to finish with other runners, and this made it feel like some of the larger marathons I have done. I crossed the finish line this year, in seven hours and thirty-two minutes to the cheers of spectators, music, and even an announcer. This was a far cry from last year, when I finished alone in the dark.

Recently, more and more people ask me why I run marathons. I used to only give a simple answer, “Because I can.” As I get older, I have come to the realization that my reason goes far deeper than that. I race to raise money for charity; I race for my own enjoyment, but most of all I race to inspire!

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