Everyone Running the NYC Marathon Has a Story to Tell

And every one of these runners has a story to tell — stories you, the spectator, know nothing about. So as you bear witness this Sunday, understand that the athletes you’re watching carry great burdens. But carry them they do.

At your next race, think about these stories:

Bib F123: Her husband of 30 years died last year from cancer. She’s running this race because she and her husband met at this race. She flew back from Miami for it.

Bib M321: Recovering alcoholic. Incapacitated with pancreatitis two years ago. He kicked that shit to the curb and is gonna run a goddamn sub-40 10K.

Bib F789: She lost 80 pounds over the last year. Type II diabetes is in remission. This is her first road race ever.

Bib M987: He went bankrupt last year. Running is the only thing keeping him sane.

Bib M1010: Manic-depressive. Felon. Turned his life around one mile at a time.

You get the idea.

No one knows your story. I think about this often at races. Racing, by its nature, is a public endeavor but for nearly every runner, it is a public testimony of a private struggle. I give all runners the benefit of the doubt.

One of the reasons racing appeals to so many people is that there is nowhere to hide. You run the race you deserve. You own it, no matter the outcome. It is the ultimate solo sport.

There’s no team. (Don’t @ me about cross country or track relays. You know what I mean.)

The rules are simple. Go from A to B as quickly as possible. Don’t cut the course. Don’t interfere with another runner. Run clean. That’s it.

There are no technical fouls, strokes, free-throws, balks, 10-second run-offs, penalties, free kicks, handicaps. Just line up at the start and run. Run your ass off. Run like the wind.

So you get to the starting line and you have no excuses. You own the result you run. You can’t blame a flat tire or a busted ski binding. You can’t curse a blind ref. Your teammates can’t let you down or carry your weight.

The bottom line: There’s just no hiding in running.

This is simultaneously empowering and terrifying.

OMG: my destiny is entirely within my control. This rules!

OMG: my destiny is entirely within my control. I think I might hurl.

So when I line up for a race and look around, I see a lot of brave people. It takes guts to be a distance runner.

Everyone runs with their own story and no one has any excuses. Runners explain their race results. They don’t offer excuses for them. And they own their accomplishments and their failures publicly by the simple act of racing a marathon. Or just a local 5K. The power in that is astounding.

I don’t care how fast you are. You toe the line for a marathon, you’re a champ.

If you’re not inspired by the 50,000 private stories of 50,000 brave souls at the New York City Marathon aggressively and publicly owning their own shit, there’s something wrong with you.

So do me this favor, won’t you? Next time you’re running a race, take a look around you. You’re surrounded by bravery. People forthrightly exclaiming: I own this. I am running the race I deserve. No one can take that away from me.

And be inspired by it.

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