They say the marathon is the ultimate test of endurance, a noble pursuit that pushes the human spirit to its limits. And they’re right… but they forget to mention the part where your legs start negotiating a union and demand overtime pay.
I’ve run marathons from NYC to Chicago, to Richmond, and a few other local races in between for a total of eight so far. I can tell you this: No matter how well you train, the marathon will find a way to humble you. Sometimes it’s painful, sometimes it’s ridiculous — and if you’re lucky, it’s both.
Running the NYC Marathon with my daughter in 2022 was one of those unforgettable and epic moments. I was the steady pacer, trying to keep us on track, sounding like a broken record with split times, and secretly hoping my legs wouldn’t bail on me before hers. Her goal was simple: Crush her personal best, and crush it she did, taking a full 17 minutes off her time. Proud dad status: Activated.
We ran through all five boroughs, me calling out splits like your friendly neighborhood pace coach, and her, totally locked in that runner’s zone. Then came mile 20 — where the city’s energy hits a whole new level and the course feels like a party with a few surprises thrown in. That’s when my favorite mantra kicked in: ‘always keep your head on a swivel.’ In New York, that’s not just smart, it’s a survival skill. You never know what’s coming next!
On another front, my partner Helena and I are just two marathoners living the marathon life. She’s run the One City Marathon in Newport News VA, eleven years in a row, and I’ve been along for plenty of her training miles; from the windy Jordan Bridge (which reaches an elevation of 169 feet above the Elizabeth River) to the eerily quiet stretch of the Dismal Swamp Canal Trail.
The Jordan bridge is our relationship’s unofficial proving ground. We grind uphill, get slapped in the face by sideways wind, and then let gravity carry us back down while our quads quietly plot revenge. The swamp trail is the opposite — flat, calm, and so still that it feels like the world hit the mute button. Perfect for logging marathon miles… or zoning out so hard you suddenly forget whether you’ve just passed mile 11 or mile 12.
I love the running community. Nothing beats the energy of a group run or being paced on a 20 mile training run by running friends, the camaraderie motivates me to push harder. But honestly? A lot of my miles are solo. Sometimes being alone out there is enough company for me.
That’s also when I contemplate the big questions in life, like:
• How can I be running uphill when the road is clearly flat?
• Why did I choose distance running as my life goal?
• Why do I always speed up my pace and correct my running form when I see another runner?
And then, there’s this: Some of the more common mishaps that one may encounter along the miles:
1. The Gel Disaster – Open one too fast, and suddenly it’s on your hands, your shirt, and somehow your ear.
2. The Porta-Potty Chase – You finally spot a few … only to realize that they’re all occupied.
3. The “Finish Line” Fake-Out – The crowd roars, the music’s pumping, you push harder — only to discover it’s a cheer zone at mile 22.
4. Runner Math – Mid-race, you convince yourself you’re on pace for a Boston Qualifier. Surprise! You’re not!
5. The Camera Smile – You grin for the photographer while silently negotiating with your hamstrings to hold on for a few more miles.
Well, as you can imagine, marathons aren’t just about medals or times — they’re about stories. The kind you tell for years, the kind that make you laugh even when you remember the pain. Whether I’m pacing my daughter through New York, training with Helena for her twelfth One City Marathon, or enjoying the peace of a solo run, one truth always holds: Every marathon is an adventure worth having.
And no matter where you’re running, always remember to ‘keep your head on a swivel.’
