Thoughts from the NYC Marathon 2024

Running is a gift that I’ll forever be thankful for. There is something about lacing up, hitting the pavement, and listening to your lungs inhale and exhale as you cruise through the kilometers. I love running because it quiets my heart and mind as I simply move. And as I run, I can cast my cares on the Lord or consider His faithfulness in my life. Or simply just run and enjoy the day that God has given me. However, over the last few years, my running rhythms were lacking. Just a few years prior, I had run multiple half-marathons as well as finishing my first ever marathon (Zaporozhye Marathon 3:45:24) and I was in a groove of getting faster, building endurance, and setting my eyes on running the World Marathon Majors (Tokyo, Berlin, London, Boston, Chicago, NYC).

But life circumstances hit. Personal tragedy. Major discouragement. A move across the ocean. And just the busyness of life that seemed to always bring a perceived urgency that took priority over going out for a quick run.

As 2023 approached, I was determined to not let life pass me by along with my hopes of running more marathons, specifically trying to get into some of the Majors. I forced myself to sign up for the Denver Colfax Marathon. I trained as much as I could, but went into that race under-trained and emotionally exhausted. And that run beat me up (3:56:38). I struggled through that race, but was still proud to finish. I couldn’t stop then. Even after the discouragement, I still had the itch. I needed to sign up for another one. Should I try to get into a Major? I put a reminder on my calendar for February 28th, 2024 to enter the lottery for the TCS New York City Marathon. I knew my shot at getting in was slim. I had read it usually takes 6-7 years of applying before you get in through the lottery.

As February 28th came, it was a particularly discouraging season of life, but nevertheless I put my name in the lottery and quickly forgot about it.

On March 28th, I got a notification that my credit card had been charged for $300.00. I had no idea what this was for and I quickly hopped online to make sure fraud wasn’t happening. Quickly, my concern turned to hope. Was I charged for the NYC Marathon? Did the charge mean I got in? I checked my email and sure enough, I had an notice saying, “Congrats! You’re running the 2024 TCS New York City Marathon.”

I didn’t believe it. I checked and double checked their website a hundred times before I let myself celebrate. I texted Emily, “Guess what?!” I couldn’t wait for her to respond. I sent her a screen shot of the confirmation email. “We’re going to New York!”

Truly, it was a gift from God to encourage us and remind us that He sees us and He cares about us. Even in something like running, that in and of itself has no eternal value, He still values it and wants to give His children good gifts.

Later that day, it was posted that only 4% of NYC Marathon lottery applicants get in to the race. I was part of that 4%!

Fast-forward to November 3rd in New York. Months of training behind me. Ready for the biggest marathon in the world!

The day before the marathon, I was picking up my race bib at the runners’ expo and noticed a Nike

advertisement that said, “You’ve come hundreds of miles to get here. Only 26.2 to go.” (Isn’t Nike just the best?!)

Emily and I had researched, read blogs, and watched YouTube videos, trying to create the best plan possible for race day. The plan boiled down to this: we would rent a car and stay in New Jersey. She would drive me into Staten Island through the back side. We thought this would be a better option than hustling all the way over to Manhattan to take the ferry across super early in the morning. I still needed to be at the starting village before 7am so Emily could get off Staten Island before all the bridges closed. Then Emily (and my sister Tessa who came out to join us) would drive to The Met near Central Park, park the car, and start using the Subway to meet me along the route. Emily crushed it by the way, driving all over the city, not missing a beat of the plan! Also, how nice it was post-race to just chill in the car as Emily drove! :) 

The starting village on Staten Island was buzzing with nervous energy as thousands of us shuffled through security. It was a beautiful, but chilly morning. Once I got through security, I had 2+ hours to burn until my wave start time. I found a nice spot against a fence on the sidewalk where I made my home for a while, enjoying the free coffee and bagels they provided as I read the Bible. I knew it would be a cold wait, so I had bought a cheap sweatshirt and sweat paints that I would throw away at the start. We also had packed hand warmers and lap warmers. I kept a couple hand warmers on my shoulders and the lap warmer across my legs to keep from shivering. I was nervous for the race, but also excited as more and more runners came in through security, all waiting for their start time. Runners from all over the world. Cultures. Languages. Flags of different countries. News reporters. Drones. Helicopters. Police. This was the event of the year!

We could hear the start gun as the elites kicked off the marathon, just about 45 minutes until my wave would start.

 I walked around for a while. I started to get ready for the race. My wave time and corral was announced. I was in the Pink Wave, Corral D with a 3:40 pacer.

I ditched my throw away clothes and made my way into my corral. The Pink Wave’s route goes on the lower level of the Verrazano-Narrows bridge. So there were thousands of runners above us as we all made our way to the starting line. I had a thought of maybe trying to finish at 3:30, so I tried to weave my way closer to that pacer. I made it up to the 3:35 pacer and thought I’d stick with him at first and if I was feeling good, I’d push harder. In my head, I knew that was unrealistic, but my adrenaline was already going and I thought maybe, just maybe.

There were so many people congested together, I was getting terrible cell service and wasn’t able to text Emily before the race started. I wondered where she might be and if there was a chance I’d see her in Brooklyn. I really hoped so.

The start gun goes off. We shuffle forward to the starting line. I crossed it about 2 minutes after the gun fired and finally, we began to spread out just a bit. It was tight. People were busting out of the gate trying to find their pace. Everything I read and heard about the race warned to not start off too fast on the Verrazano-Narrows bridge. It was no joke. Almost immediately, the incline on the bridge shot up. For a brief moment, I thought that I’d made a huge mistake, what made me think I could do this? It was still cold and once we got out on the bridge, the freezing wind was whipping off the water and cutting through me. Not a great start. But, I was determined to stay right with the 3:35 pacer. I could do this. I would do this. This was my marathon.

The steep incline of the bridge was about the first mile or so. I didn’t want to go too fast, but I also didn’t want to get behind early on. It was very quiet running through the lower part of the bridge. Thousands of shoes pounding the pavement, but no other noise. Then all of the sudden, a few hundred feet behind me, a guy starts yelling “Let’s go, New York!” And that broke the silence. A wave of cheering and shouts of excitement erupted and rolled across all of us. I soaked it in. This is it. This is the NYC Marathon!

The adrenaline kicked back in and I rolled through the first mile at 8:51. My pace for the first borough. Slow start, but that was the plan. Coming down the bridge, I could hear the faint sounds of Brooklyn. We were starting to spread out a little and find our rhythm. I was excited. It was hard to stay at a slower pace. I jumped to 7:48 for the second mile. I had to keep reminding myself to slow it down. As we hit Brooklyn, the noise was unreal. People 10 deep on both sides of the street screaming, playing music, popping confetti cannons. It was so loud, my Apple Watch kept notifying me that the noise level was over 90 decibels. And this energy did not stop throughout that second borough.

Brooklyn was awesome. It was flat and fun. I started to hit a groove. As I came into 2 and half miles, I started my fueling plan. Salt Stick tabs every 15 minutes. Energy gels every 30 minutes. Water every mile.

Then I got a text from Emily, “We’re after mile 8 on your left!” I tried to like it on my watch, but hit the “haha” response instead.

I started to slide over towards the left side of the street. Up until this point, the waves of runners were divided into a few different streets, but mile 8 was when everyone merged together again. I didn’t think Brooklyn could get louder, but it did at mile 8.

I began scanning the crowd on the left. Taking in each person. Hoping I wouldn’t miss Emily and Tessa. It was so emotional. The whole city coming together. People groups from all over the world. Everyone cheering the runners on with unity. I couldn’t miss Emily. The anticipation was building. Shortly after the mile 8 marker, I heard her. Then, I saw Emily and Tessa waving their cardboard sings they had made. A quick high five and a big smile. I was so relieved I didn’t miss them!

I continued through Brooklyn. Confetti still going off. People screaming. Unique signs of encouragement. High fives with NYPD. My pace was good. My fueling plan seemed to be working well (along with the Imodium I had taken that morning ha!). I’m right with the 3:35 pacer. I’d be happy with a 3:35 finish.

Then I get another text from Emily: “On your left on Kent Street after 20k. Need fuel?”

I was stoked. I didn’t think they’d make it to the next spot that quickly! I thought it’d be a little further on until I would see them next. Again, I slide over to the left side of the street, scanning the crowd, hoping to see them.

At this time, I’m getting a couple of other texts from friends. Words of encouragement.

I pass the 20k post, but can’t tell what street I’m on. The anticipation to see Emily starts building again. I can’t explain why it was so emotional, but it was. All the masses of people running and cheering, I had my person in the crowd waiting to cheer me on. Then I saw Emily and Tessa. Once again, screaming and excited to see me. I don’t think I said anything. I just smiled at them and soaked it all in.

Right at the halfway point came the Pulaski Bridge leading into Queens. The third borough. This moment was surreal. I was still feeling really good physically. The first half had flown by. I was at about 1:48. Sticking close with the 3:35 pacer. The noise along the streets was still loud. The energy was high. Then we hit Pulaski Bridge and it was just the runners. From tons of noise to only our shoes hitting the pavement. It brought me back to reality a little bit. We still had a long way to go.

But soon enough, we came through the bridge and down into Queens where the crowds were loud and massive again. That bridge was nothing compared to the Verrazano-Narrows bridge. Two bridges down. Three to go.

Queens was a blur. Only a few miles. I continued to take Salt Stick tabs regularly and pounded gels. The mistake I made during my last marathon (Denver Colfax), other than under training, was not fueling enough. At this point in Queens, I was on my fourth gel and who knows how many Salt Sticks. Things were feeling good… but in the back of my mind, I knew the Queensboro Bridge was ahead.

Same as the last bridge, once we were on the Queensboro bridge heading into Manhattan it was quiet. No spectators. Just the sound of heavy breathing and shoes hitting the pavement. This incline was still nothing compared to the Verrazano-Narrows bridge, but with 15 miles on my legs already, this bridge was much harder. I pushed hard to keep up with the 3:35 pacer. And I did. I was right next to him the entire incline. I was stoked!

Coming down off of this bridge, the road takes a sharp turn around and then right onto First Avenue in Manhattan. This is the moment you think of when you think of the NYC Marathon. Running on First Ave. Just coming off a tough bridge. You’re on a slight decline. The crowds are at the loudest they’ve been all day… and you’re in New York City with tall sky scrappers on either side. Unreal.

This is where I blew up my race a little bit. I think I went too hard up the Queensboro bridge and then came out of it a little too fast. For miles 16 through 19 I was under 8:00 and felt like I had it. I had also just taken my first of two caffeine espresso gels that I was saving for later in the race.

But, anyone who has run a marathon will tell you that mile 20 is when the marathon actually starts. And that is when I started to breakdown a bit. Right before mile 20 is the forth bridge, leading into The Bronx. The fourth borough. It’s not a long bridge, nor a steep incline, but it was that bridge that made me start to feel it. My pace dropped slightly. I started to lose the 3:35 pacer. The Bronx was neat. But the crowds were less. There were some local musicians playing music and a guy on a mega phone screaming, “Welcome to the Bronx!” But compared to what we just came off of from First Avenue, it was significantly less. And I was hurting.

Emily had just texted me saying she was trying to get to me. I was hoping I would have seen her on First Avenue, but she didn’t make it there. I knew they had a Snickers bar for me and that started to sound really good at the moment. She asked if I needed fuel, and I gave her a thumbs up, but was unsure when I’d see her next. All she said was, “Trying to get to you.”

A few kilometers through the Bronx, and then back over into Manhattan. The fifth and final borough. The last bridge wasn’t bad, but any incline at this point felt like a mountain. At least all five bridges were behind me at this point.

Now we were on 5th Ave. They had bananas around mile 22. I gladly shoved one down. Then I took my second caffeine espresso gel. It hit the spot, but I didn’t feel a boost. I was dragging. If you look at the elevation climb on 5th Ave going south, it doesn’t look like much, but that was hardest section of the race. I dropped to a 8:31 pace at mile 22. Mile 23 was 8:34. Mile 24 was 10:07. My hopes of 3:35 were long gone. I was feeling discouraged.

The crowds along 5th Avenue were as loud as ever. But I barely noticed them. Mile 22-24 was a struggle. I doubted if I could keep going. Should I stop and walk? So many other runners had stopped to walk at this point. I tried to encourage them or pat them on the back as I passed by. But then, I got a text from Emily! “We’re at Central Park, right at the turn. We are at 90th on your left.” That text gave me what I needed. I was determined not to walk or stop. I had to get to Emily!

Soon enough, as I was turning off 5th Ave into Central Park, I heard Emily and Tessa yelling. Emily had water and electrolytes held out, Tessa had a Snickers. I went right for the Snickers.

I don’t think I said anything to them. But internally, it was the boost I needed. I started to pick up the pace again, rolling through the hills of Central Park as I chowed down on the Snickers. I was brought back into the race. I was aware of the beauty of Central Park. Here I was, running Central Park. Just a couple miles left. I was here. What a gift from God. Under a 4% chance of getting in through the lottery, but I had made it. Two more miles. My left hamstring felt wobbly on the declines, but I didn’t care. The finish line was close. 

We popped back out into the city for just a few hundred meters. The noise was wild. Then a sharp right turn (over a curb) back into Central Park. A sign posted that said 800 meters to go. I kicked it with all I had (it probably didn’t look like much) and around the bend I saw the finish line. As I crossed the finish line, I couldn’t help but smile and point a finger towards the Lord in thankfulness. What an incredible experience!

I checked my official time. 3:42:28. Not as quick as I wanted (those stinkin’ miles coming up 5th Avenue). But still a PR! 

I got my medal, snacks, and pancho and started the two mile winding walk to exit Central Park. We agreed to meet at my favorite post-run restaurant (McDonald’s). The walk out of the park was long. It felt like it would never end. But eventually I made it to McDonald’s, ordered my Big Mac and soon after Emily and Tessa came in. Again, I don’t have words or an explanation as to why it was so emotional, but it was. We all teared up at McDonald’s.

It was a once in a lifetime adventure and accomplishment - for both sides, the runners and the spectators. I’m proud of us all.

The slogan for the NYC Marathon is, “It will move you.” I couldn’t agree more. Physically for sure, we moved a lot that day! Emotionally, I was so moved by the support of both random strangers and loved ones. We all had one goal, to see each other cross that finish line. No matter who you are, regardless of background, language, race, it doesn’t matter if you broke 3 hours or 6 hours. We accomplished something extremely difficult together. I was moved emotionally for sure. And spiritually, I was moved by the generosity of the Lord. To allow me to be part of something like this. To give us this special gift. Moved to gratitude for the breath in my lungs and my feet on the pavement.

What’s next? Chicago? Berlin? Tokyo?

Let's keep running our race with endurance!

The dream team!

Emily driving us back to the hotel






Reunited at McDonald's



Celebration Pizza!