New York Marathon Took Uneasy Route to Cancellation The marathon directors from Berlin, Boston, Chicago and London gathered at Tavern on the Green on Friday morning to celebrate Tokyo's becoming the sixth Marathon Major. But the executives grew uneasy as they nibbled on bagels in a large heated tent, because the host, Mary Wittenberg, the chief executive of New York Road Runners, was late. In fact, Wittenberg never showed. While George Hirsch, the chairman of Road Runners, filled in for her, she was frantically negotiating with city officials about how to salvage the New York City Marathon. Less than 48 hours before the race, the list of politicians calling for it to be canceled was growing. Online petitions were ballooning and protests were being planned. Reports circulated that volunteers setting up equipment had been pelted with eggs. With millions of residents struggling as a result of Hurricane Sandy, the marathon had turned into a magnet for ill will. Why, many asked, should resources like generators, bottled water and police officers be used for runners when so many were in need? Wittenberg and her staff grappled with this even before the storm passed on Tuesday. But after a year of planning a 26.2-mile race for nearly 50,000 runners and 2 million spectators, their inclination was to proceed. If nothing else, the race could provide financial and psychic relief. Yet every year, Road Runners took its cue from the city, which not only issued permits but also provided thousands of police officers, firefighters, emergency medical technicians and sanitation workers. Privately, some of Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg's advisers, including Police Commissioner Raymond W. Kelly, opposed holding the race. But on Tuesday, Bloomberg said it would go on. "It's a great event for New York, and I think for those who were lost, you know, you've got to believe they would want us to have an economy and have a city go on for those that they left behind," Bloomberg said at a briefing. On Wednesday, Wittenberg appeared at an event for elite athletes and surprised many there when she said that despite the mayor's comments, Road Runners had not received final approval to hold the race. She hinted that the race was in doubt, and she underscored who would make the ultimate decision. "If it is to run the marathon, the marathon will run," Wittenberg said. If it's not, it won't. But I remain confident as ever that the mayor will make the right decision for the city at this time, and that is solely in his hands. A few hours later, the mayor repeated that the race was on. To alleviate the strain on the city, Wittenberg canceled several prerace events, but the Javits Convention Center would open as planned on Thursday so runners could pick up their numbers. On Thursday night, as the mayor stood firm, those in his inner circle had deep concerns about the growing criticism. Some advisers believed it threatened to steal the focus from Bloomberg's performance during and after the storm, which had generally been well received. With his third term already marred by a botched blizzard response in December 2010, another major misstep during a crisis could damage the mayor's legacy. The opposition to the race from residents on Staten Island had also shaken many marathon supporters, according to people briefed on the discussions between the city and Road Runners. Wittenberg, who makes virtually every major decision for her group, said that Road Runners would contribute $1 million to relief efforts. The gesture did little to stem the anger and the prospect of runners racing past hostile crowds on Sunday. By 6:30 a.m. Friday, hours after she and her staff inspected the course, Wittenberg decided the five-borough race had to be scrapped. "We got a little vibe from her that this was still open for a discussion, that it wasn't a done deal," said one person who talked to Wittenberg. In talks with city officials, she and her staff fished for alternatives, including running the race entirely in Central Park, as was done in the 1970s, or on the last 10 miles of the course through the Bronx, Upper Manhattan and the park, according to people briefed on the discussions. Wittenberg and Deputy Mayor Howard Wolfson, who was central to the negotiations, rejected the ideas because any version of the race would still provoke animosity. "The conversations around it had become caustic," one mayoral adviser said. The mayor, however, told reporters Friday afternoon that he had talked that morning to the former mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani, who encouraged him to stick with his plan. He betrayed no hint that the marathon would be canceled. The discussions went on all day in the mayor's City Hall bullpen, and included Wolfson and Deputy Mayor Patricia E. Harris. The topic also came up Friday in south Brooklyn, where Bloomberg met with residents whose homes had been destroyed or damaged. Besides discussing insurance claims and rebuilding, some residents asked the mayor why the marathon was still going to be held, aides said. But persuading the mayor to change his mind was difficult. Aides and friends said Bloomberg was not one to wallow, and he saw value in urging residents to move past the storm. "It goes back to his earliest days in office," said one person familiar with the mayor's thinking. He is an engineer, not a political science student. Without a good alternative, however, Wolfson and Wittenberg decided it would be best for her to speak to Bloomberg. The mayor was unhappy to back down, but said that if the race had to be canceled it needed to be done immediately, according to people briefed on the discussions. Wolfson and Wittenberg then began drafting a statement, released at 5:21 p.m. Eastern, that the race was off. Michael Grynbaum contributed reporting.