My visit to the 9/11 Memorial Museum

The absolute must see on my trip to New York was a visit to the 9/11 Memorial Museum. The 9/11 terrorist attacks are up there with one of those days you will always remember where you were when it happened. I remember the disbelief on hearing about it and then seeing the second plane hit the tower as the news was being reported live.

It is also one of those events that has completely changed the world- it made the Westerners who always felt safe feel very vulnerable for the first time - and the last few weeks have shown us that not much has changed.

In my teaching I use a documentary called 9/11 to show the students the events of the day. If you have not seem this doco it is probably the best doco to watch if you want an unbiased account of the day. It was made by two French Brothers who were filming a doco on the first year of a rookie fireman. They happened to be in the right (or wrong) place at the right time, and their camera's accompanied the fireman into the building. It shows the confusion, sadness and disbelief of what they were seeing. The doco is moving, empowering and very, very sad.

I think if there is a sentence that sums up my trip to the museum is that. It is moving, empowering and very. very sad. You see the best of people and they very worst of people all in one event.

This is one of the new World Trade Centre buildings- they were going to replace all the buildings that collapsed (there were 7 that collapsed in total) but the demand is not there. People don't want to go back into the area.

The thing that you first feel is a sense of calm. They memorial and museum has been created with such a sense of love and respect you feel it as soon as you walk into the area where the fountains (for want of a better word) are. These water features are made on the exact site of where the towers stood, and are decorated with the names of those who lost their lives. I also learnt that the names are not written in random. Each name was places near someone the deceased knew- whether it was a relation, a work buddy, or a friend. So they are never alone.

The museum is situated under the fountains in the very foundations of the World Trade Centre. You are lead through a history of the building, how and why it was built, and you see the foundations of the buildings. It was a marvel of creation and interesting was built on landfill. This was one of the reasons that the area was unsafe for such a long time after the attacks- they thought the whole are might sink. People who lived in the area left their homes that morning and where not allowed back for up to 12 months. Not even for clothes, possessions or their animals. Part of the reason was due to it being unsafe and also because they needed to sweep the area for DNA.  Remember that nearly 1000 people have still not been identified since the attacks.

Bodies are entombed behind this wall. The blue are swatches of colour as people were asked to colour them the shade of blue they remember the sky being on the morning of the attacks.

From there you see things recovered from the day, from parts of the buildings, letters, shoes, fire trucks, to personal possessions. You also hear audio recordings from people on the flights that were highjacked, and audio from the high jackers themselves. You are in a constant state of disbelief and shock as you walk around. There is also a gallery with photos of all those who lost their lives on this day.

Going to the museum is an experience like I have never had before. There are so many people in there but it is mostly silent. There is no laughing, small talk or any joy. It is a moment of such sadness and also a moment of so many questions- would the fireman have gone in knowing what they know now? How desperate would you feel to jump out of the building as your best choice? How sad would you feel if you rang to tell a loved one good bye and they didn't answer the phone? How could you comprehend what you were seeing and what was going on? How could humans be so mean to other people? How could anyone hate so much?

This will eventually be the entry to the Subway. It signifies a dove. The symbol of peace.

Laura and I spent 3 hours walking around the museum. It honestly felt like 30 minutes. You leave the museum via an escalator which takes you back to ground level. Amazing Grace plays as you go. I know I had tears running down my face as I left and I made no attempt to wipe them away. I think this is the sort of thing that we need to see to understand that we need to be good, kind people. You can't let the bad guys win. This showed me that in times of such horror and devastation people come together. You see both the very worst and the very best of people. We can't let the worst win, because there are far more good people in the world.

If you are ever in New York please go. There are very few things that are genuinely life changing. This is honestly one such thing.

The things that can happen when you are forced to rest with lots of codeine on hand.

Being both injured and at home is a strange thing. When I was working I would often pray for a nice little injury where I wasn't sick, but couldn't go to work. Well now I'm on leave and can't do a bloody thing. This is my second- or is it third? week of rest, and I have noticed a few things that I think are worth sharing.

1. You become very forgetful. Today is my first day with not pain relief, so this means my first day without codeine. The last three (or is it two?) weeks have been a blur. I remember very little. So a big sorry to anyone I need to apologise too. Or if I have forgotten something I said I would do.

2. You stop doing your hair. I have not blow dried or styled my hair any day. In fact the only time it has been done was the two times that I went out for dinner. It has been in a top knot. Put up at 8am and left until 8am the next morning when I redo it.

3. You become very comfortable leaving the house with your pyjamas on. At anytime of day.

4. You pick an outfit on Monday. And that becomes your uniform for the whole week (when you get out of your pyjamas of course).

5. You watch a lot of youtube and stupid videos that generally involve a dog, a cat or penguins.

This may not be a video but it is a photo with both a cat and a penguin. Gold.

6. You feel the need to share all these videos with everyone you know. They politely acknowledge them with a sympathy laugh.

7. You cry at dumb stuff. Like when the surgeons tell you that you need another 4 weeks on crutches or that you can't go swimming anymore.

8. You accidently book 9 tickets to Bali when you only need 3. (this is a true story- I really did this).

9. You do things like put headphones on your daughter's stuff toys. Because it looks cute.

10. You talk to the tv, because that is your only friend, and you find yourself actually getting interested in those home shopping ads. I know now that all my issues would be solved with a nutra/supa/ninja blender.

My Big Run

So the New York Marathon. I don't even know where to start really. It was as amazing as I imagined it to be, from the vibe of the city, the organisation of the event and the crowd. It was my life dream and although it didn't go as planned it was still one of the most amazing experiences of my life.

Arriving in New York I felt like I was with my cult. There were people in active wear EVERYWHERE. People running up and down the streets and walking around with a bewildered look on their faces as they tried to take it all in, and there is so much to take it.

So the marathon experience begins with a trip to the expo to pick up your "goody bag" The expo is HUGE, because 50 000 people do this run. In your bag you have all sorts of treats like you number, a tshirt, a wrist band to say what areas you can get into or not (security is huge as you can imagine).

Once you get your bag you are ushered into the biggest sports store of all time. The line to wait to get your purchases is on 30minutes. Pretty amazing when you consider that they had about 50 check out chicks on. But the have very helpful people with signs at various points in the line telling you how long you will have to wait. The wait it also not too bad because you chat to fellow cult members about how excited you are, where you are from, how many marathons you have done, how long the flight is from Australia. That kind of thing.

The day of the marathon we were picked up from the hotel bright and early at 6am for the 1 hour bus trip out to Staten Island. This is about the time when you realise that if it take 60 minutes to drive here it is going to take a really long time to run back. You make nervous chatter, people go to the toilet on the bus (gross but everyone is hydrating) people eat (carb loading), and start getting that sick but excited feeling in your tummy, and start comparing injuries ( there were lots). 

Arriving at Staten Island you go through a security check, and then are ushered into a big holding lot and wait for your wave to be called. Bearing in mind at this stage it was only 7:30 and my wave started at 10:40, so there was some waiting to be done. Lucky there were bagels, coffees and power bars to be eaten, toilets to be gone to (lets just sat that after experiencing American port a loo's I will never complain again. Clearly they don't know that you can get ones that FLUSH- when you mix drop toilets with nervous runners bottom- GROSS), and lots of people to chat about how nervous/excited/scared/injured you are.

Finally my group was called, we were ushered into line , the American National Anthem was played, the gun went off and to the sounds of Frank Sinatra singing "New York, New York" we were off. Needless the say the experience was incredible. You literally run from one end of New York to the other, through the five boroughs- Brooklyn, Queens, The Bronx, Manhattan and Staten Island. It was so interesting to see the different ethnic areas of the city as you run though the different boroughs. The one thing that all the areas had in common was the huge crowds cheering you on, calling your name, high 5-ing you, offering you tissues, bananas, water, chocolate and support. New Yorkers are just the best. Church groups were outside the churches singing, a school band was playing the Rocky Theme which they do for the WHOLE time the race is on ( considering the cut off time for the run is 9:30 hours that's not a bad effort). It felt like the whole city had come out to say hello. In fact 1 million had.

Finally I approached Central Park, and by that stage I was physically and emotionally done. Luckily I knew Laura ( my daughter) was waiting for me, and looking for here kept me busy. Central Park is such a beautiful place to finish because it is so pretty and peaceful compared with the busy city we had run through. Finally I saw Laura, burst into tears and somehow powered my poor stress fractured leg to run that final km to the finish line. I was crying so much I couldn't actually breathe. I'm still not sure how much of those tears where pain, relief or disappointment. Maybe they were just a good mix of all three.

Once through the finish line a volunteer places that medal around your neck, wraps you up in a "cape" which almost feels like the big hug that you need when you are mentally and physically exhausted. The only bad part of the event is that you do need to walk a very long way to get out of the Park, and as all the roads are a "frozen zone" you have to either walk or catch the subway which put an extra 4km on the 42Km already done.

To sum it all up the New York Marathon was everything and more I ever imagined. Would I do it again? At this stage it is sort of like having a baby- the experience is still very raw and I haven't forgotten the pain (and the moonboot is also a constant memory), but as time goes on I can honestly think I should have a rematch... one day.

What do you do when your life dream turns into a nightmare?

New York- the most amazing place on earth.

Those of you who follow me on Facebook will know that I had been promising lots of posts about New York when I got back. In that case you will notice that there have been no posts. Let me explain..

So two weeks before I went to New York (and two weeks out of the marathon) I pulled (or so I thought) my calf muscle. I was a bit annoyed but not too stressed, I had done my training so I assumed that with some physio and rest it would be fine for the big day.

It felt fine. It wasn't hurting anymore so I assumed all would be good. Until the day before the marathon when I ran across the road. The pain in that 1 second sprint was bad. I realised it wasn't going to be good at all. So I did what all athletes would do. I cried.

Even through the pain was bad there was no way I wasn't going to run, so I strapped that baby up, wore my tightest compression pants, popped some pain killers and hoped for the best.

It was ok for the first 5km , sort of ok for the next 5km and then crap for the next 2km. At 15km I realised my dream of running a 4h30m marathon was done. I was just going to have to get to the end somehow. I ran/ walked the final 27km in a whole world of pain. The only thing that kept me going was the crowd " You've got this Aussie Emma!" (no Aussie Emma didn't) and the fact that I am no quitter. There was no way I was not going to finish this bloody thing and get my medal at the end.

I honestly think you can see the exhaustion in my eyes.

So 5h 59mins after I started I crossed the finishing line, crying so much that I couldn't breathe. The beautiful volunteers at the end where wrapping us up like little presents in finishers blankets and telling us how awesome we were, I found my daughter and walked the 4km back to our hotel. Seriously. 4 bloody kms.

I knew I had done damage but there was also no way I was going to waste my final 5 days in New York. So I walked on average 10km on my poor leg, with the help of a cane (which does help you get to the start of any queue).

Fast forward to getting home on Sunday with an ankle and leg the size of a watermelon. I went to emergency and now have the final diagnosis of a stress fracture. I will find out in a couple of weeks how much damage has been done and if I need surgery. In the meantime it is a moon boot, and not being able to drive. 

So I'm not going to lie, I have not dealt with it all well. I have cried. A lot. I feel so disappointed in myself that it all went so badly. This was my dream and it all went pear shaped. Kind of like my year really.

So when I found myself sobbing in my wardrobe yesterday because I couldn't find the dress I wanted to wear (normally a fashion crisis but not to this degree) I think I finally hit rock bottom, and I am ready to pull myself out of my disappointment. So my blogs will come, because my holiday was amazing. In fact the marathon itself was amazing. I just feel so sad that I didn't get to enjoy it how I imagined. And yes I know its a first world problem. But its my problem.

So buckle up and be prepared to be bombarded with posts about New York. The most incredible city in the world. And also if you follow me on Facebook or Instagram you can follow the travels of my moon boot.