Sports

30 marathons and still running

Liam Adipietro greets his dad near the finish line at this year’s New York City marathon, a father-son tradition since Liam was two years old.

In 1981, Brooklyn native Frank Adipietro was 24 and his father, Frank Sr., was 44 when they ran their first and only New York City marathon together, decked out in short shorts, terry cloth headbands and tube socks.


Though Frank Sr. stopped after that race, his son never did. 


The younger Mr. Adipietro, now 51, crossed the finish line of his 30th marathon and his 28th New York City marathon on Sunday — with no tube socks to be found.


“I’m feeling a little old,” said Mr. Adipietro, an anesthesiologist and head of interventional pain management at Eastern Long Island Hospital in Greenport. “Nobody is supposed to run a marathon with only four weeks of training. But I came in right at my time which is what I wanted to do.”


Mr. Adipietro — known locally as “Dr. Frank” — has lived full-time on Shelter Island since 1998. He ran the entire 26.2 miles through the five boroughs recovering from a broken bone in his foot, which is why he had only four weeks to train.


But since 1981, he’s missed only one New York City marathon. That was in 2004, when his father died at the age of 63 of pancreatic cancer. The Boston Marathon and the Long Island Marathon in 1985 round out Dr. Adipietro’s race count to 30.


This year, Dr. Adipietro’s wife, Mary Ellen, who coordinates Shelter Island’s 5K and 10K races, and his 7-year-old son Liam, who is already an avid runner, got to watch as he crossed the finish line in Manhattan with a time of 4:24. Dr. Adipietro’s Shelter Island friends Darrin Binder and Jim Read ran the race this year for the first time.


We asked Dr. Adipietro what the 30th marathon was like — and why on earth anyone would run 30 marathons in the first place.


Q: So how did you finish that entire race with a broken foot?


A: I run 12 months a year, so it was basically a matter of gutting it out. Four weeks [of training] is not something I would suggest as a first marathoner, but I was lucky. The problem with New York are the bridges. You’re literally running on metal grates, and I knew it would be a struggle when I hit the Willis Avenue bridge, which is about the 18-mile marker.


Q: How has your training changed since 1981?


A: The whole philosophy of training for marathons has changed. My father and I trained for 16 weeks and would run 100 miles a week for four weeks in a row. Now there’s a more minimalist approach. You space out your long runs, and your days off are almost more important. It’s possible to run a good marathon on 50 miles a week rather than 100, but not if you want to win.


Q: Is this your last marathon?


A: I say it’s my last one every year. But it’s so exciting, having grown up in Brooklyn and living most of my life in the city. The marathon is when the city puts its best foot forward and opens its arms to you. Two million people watch that race. And now I have a 7-year-old son who is positively influenced by running. I’d like to be able to run with him when he’s old enough for the marathon 10 years or so from now.


Q: You said your son just finished his first 5K — you don’t think it’s too early for him to start racing?


A: He’s going out there and having fun, he’s not trying to win or anything. Any involvement in sports is good for kids, and only a mile or two can change your life, really. 


Q: If your father hadn’t put you up to that first marathon, would you still be running them?


A: My father’s influence has kept me doing it for all these years, even though it doesn’t get any easier. My mother, Grace, is still with us, and we think about [my father] this time of year. I remember that he had just started running [in 1980] and asked if I’d run next year’s marathon with him. I started training and dropped 50 pounds. 


The race is basically the same course every year. Every year I line up, I remember the first time I stood out there, and I always remember thinking, “this is amazing.” It’s one of the truly great spectacles in sports — every time that race starts, 330 million are watching TV to see all these people going over that bridge.


Q: Why do you run marathons, ultimately?


A: This might sound trite, but I’m not really there for the finish. It’s the journey, it’s always been the journey. I enjoy running and being outside. It’s like a microcosm of life. You can’t always look forward to that finish line, but if you can conquer this event just by finishing the race or beating your last time, the race doesn’t conquer you. The best parts of humanity show up that day, from the runners to the support and volunteers. A marathon is like no other, because after 17 or 18 miles, every part of your body starts to hurt, and you really see what you’re made of.