525,600 minutes

The year is already flying by! The opening song of the musical RENT begins with the lyrics:

525,600 minutes. How do you measure a year?

According to Strava 2026 YTD - you can measure me in:

• 268 miles of running
• 63 miles of cycling
• 21 weightlifting sessions
• 17 HIIT workouts
• 10 CrossFit WODs

At the end of the day, what do these numbers really mean? Are they statistics to measure progress? Are they numbers to beat each year? My running volume is up +12% from this same timeframe last year - which is shocking given how crummy our winter was in NY.

Again, thinking about the song from RENT, I can't help but believe there is something more to the numbers. In my last post, I explained the "Run Happy Theory" in how I was going to approach my running this coming year. I think those intentions remain. If we look at the numbers - yes 12% is great, but I think the human meaning behind them is so much more impactful. 

What if we reframed our goals, not just in fitness, but in in life, and tie them to other things?

• Early morning grinds and sunrises
• Deep secrets and laughs shared with the crew
• High fives and cheers after a big lift
• Tears and hugs after a failed attempt
• Being pain free and feeling good after races 
• Feeling alive, not burning out 
• The warm sun hitting my skin as spring arrives
• New genres explored and old songs rediscovered on those solo long runs

This seems to be working much better for me. And my performance reflects that. 

And then there's my little family unit - who went from cheering me on from the sidelines...to Rob now running (way) ahead of me and the kids chasing me. It's a family affair. Never in my wildest dreams did I think we'd become the 5K weekend morning family. There's something not quantifiable there, but surely measurable in abounding love.

Sometimes you're the cheerleader. I had the great opportunity to support our friend Steve from Milltown as he ran his first Boston Marathon this April. What a humbling experience to see several waves of runners go by - all qualified. It's a very different scene than the NYCM. It could make you feel bad about yourself, but it didn't. It fired me up. I was so happy for each one of those strangers. I know what they had to do to get there - once in a lifetime moment. 

Sometimes it's about taking the back seat. I had to make a very tough decision regarding NYCM 2026 this coming November. I gave up my spot. I did not accept my marathon entry despite the hundreds of hours poured into earning that spot. I don't want to think about the dollars too! I mentioned in the past that Rob and I knew that only ONE of us could do it this year - so the decision was made. Notably, I did not defer. Why? #1 - I'm an idiot. #2 - It was important to me (personally - no shade to anyone else) to earn new entry for next year in 2027. But don't worry, my marathon game for 2026 is not over yet. More to come on that at a later date.

There is so much to look forward to ahead! While the winter was dormant due to bad weather and race cancellations, the spring and summer are jam packed with sunshine and bright moments.

Fresh beginnings - I kicked off the spring running the NYRR Women's Half for the first time. Two loops of Central Park, a lot of hills, and stealing 3 tubes of mascara later - I put down an excellent time!

Trying new things! This coming weekend I'll be completing my first Duathlon, right here on Long Island. In true Jack fashion - what a better way to spend Mother's Day than getting my adrenaline hit and then treating myself to a tattoo after. Give me all the pain so I don't have to feel my emotions! It's a short one - a sprint really! It will be less about endurance and more about speed. I'm planning on giving it my all with nothing to lose. No previous times to consider or beat. Just go go go!

Old stomping grounds. Then...next weekend is the infamous Brooklyn Half. This will by 5th consecutive year earning entry and running it. And currently my PR course holder. I can promise you there will be no PRs set next week. It will hot as balls as someone seems to turn on the sun exactly the week of the Brooklyn Half each year. The course is tough and not conducive to a pleasant experience. The plan is to run happy with some good Biggie tunes. If I can come out of Prospect Park feeling strong, I'll be super happy coasting for the rest of the race, regardless of pace. 

Break your body. Then...then again, in two weeks I'll be participating in CrossFit Murph for the 10th year in a row. Admittedly, I might be pretty burnt out by May 22. Or I'll be fired up. Who knows! Lucky for me Murph is a game of mental grit more than physical ability. Every year, I do better and better. I plan on having a great time watching everyone suffer together. No expectations or goals. 

1 mile Run
300 squats
200 push-ups
100 pull-ups (rings for me)
1 mile Run
Under an hour for me? EASY.

Fast forward to the summer plans - parties, beach, live music, vacations, camp, and BICYCLE. Last July I participated in the 'Wounded Warrior Project Soldier Ride' for the first time - 20+ miles and over the Robert Moses bridge - gorgeous view! While last year's participation centered around pushing my cycling abilities and socializing with fitness friends. This year, the event has so much more meaning. 

I was very moved riding alongside those who who have served - our injured Veterans. 

Additionally, we recently just lost our own dear friend. USMC Retired Gunnery Sergeant Ruben Santos, 86, was a highly decorated Marine, earning several accolades such as the Silver Star Medal and 3 Purple Hearts - just to name a few. While he was ALL of this and more...to us he was Ruben. The maker of piraguas, the man who built our wedding candle holders from tree bark, raised chickens, and fiercely loved his chihuahua. 

This year, I'm riding in honor of Ruben and the other Veterans just like him. Our family goal is to raise $500 for the organization by the July 17 event date.

I would greatly appreciate your support - big or small:

https://communityfundraising.woundedwarriorproject.org/participants/25442

Please remember Ruben when you measure your life - not in percentages or miles. But in how you've honored your own life and served those you love the most.

NYRR Women's Half - April 2026

Steve @Boston Marathon - April 2026

The Run Happy Theory

At the end of this past year, I vowed to stop chasing PRs. My mental health took a sharp turn for the worse, and the thing I loved the most, running, became one of the biggest enablers of my spiral. I got so caught up in improvement and achievement, that it was no longer fun. Instead of using running to regulate and manage, running became the fuel to my anger and sadness. 

In this new year, I've vowed to run happy. What does this mean? It means not competing with myself (and comparing myself to others). It means not thinking every race needs to be better than the last one. It means defining "better" in new ways. It means not obsessing over pace, and instead, running based on feel again. 

Does this go against every bone in my body? Yes. But it's also necessary to regain my peace. Otherwise I need to stop running - and that's not the path I want to take right now. I'm nowhere near done in what I'd like to achieve.

This past week, I ran a local race with my run club - the SRC 10-Mile Run to Moriches Field Brewing. It was the second annual for this specific event. I remember I went out guns blazing last year. Mostly because it was cold and I wanted to finish! This was the first "test" of the "Run Happy" theory. I covered my watch with my long sleeves so I wouldn't look at it. I found a comfortable pace by myself. Not trying to pick anyone off. Not trying to stay with a friend. The first mile clocked at 9:25 and I thought to myself "wow you're really moving". But I didn't try to slow down or speed up - I just kept running and enjoying the happy faces going by, my bouncy Latin music, and the scenery. 

I ran into my friend Gaston around the half way point and we chatted for a few moments. I wasn't able to keep up with him, but I didn't let it bother me. I'm grateful for his kindness and the boost he provided me.

By the end of the 10-miles, not only did I finish feeling strong, I set a new PR for both distance and course (by about 4 minutes). Will running happy produce these results every time? Likely not. But it was certainly gratifying to know that I have more control when I tell my brain to chill out. 

So I will continue to stop chasing PRs (for now). 

Hopefully you will see me on the course in 2026 smiling.

Running from the Demons

In the past, I said running my first marathon was the best day of my life. Running it this year, three years later, was one of the worst days of my life. Front and center - it became even more apparent how many demons I hold in my heart. And despite my outward demeanor, I actually do listen to these demons. 

NYC is supposed to be a celebration, yet I found myself feeling completely alone...yet awkwardly surrounded by millions of people watching me crumble. 

I had trouble figuring out how to write this. My last post ruffled some feathers. But I also don't want to be performative and censor myself. I guess it's important to say that nothing here is directed at any particular person or group - this is more about me and how I process information.

So what happened? 

Let's start with the positive. While I didn't hit my 04:45:00 goal, I did set a new marathon and course PR shaving off one minute, with an official time of 04:56:03. The flipside of that - I put in A LOT of work for 12 months, not just the 18 week training cycle...a full year of long runs.  And the outcome was essentially the same (insert melty face here). 

Per usual, the week leading up was incredible stressful, but not for the usual reasons. Sandwiched between deadlines at work, the city commute felt extra tiring. It was like this big overhaul of projects to the figurative finish line to be able to take the days off. 

Additionally, we quite didn't realize the ramifications of the marathon falling so closely to Halloween this year. We didn't want to leave the kids. The kids didn't want us to leave them. They wanted to both come with us...and not miss Halloween events with their friends. All of this to say, the logistics involved, costumes laid out, favors asked...exhausting. All just to feel crummy at the end anyway. 

In early October, about a month before the event, I went to the same apparel printer I used last year (did a great job) and placed a new order for this years' marathon shirt. I spent time on the design. And gave plenty of lead time for execution. A week prior to the event, I got an email response saying they  needed a little more time, which was odd, because they had a month. But I didn't think anything of - "No problem, just remember I'm leaving Thursday morning for the city." Monday came, no response to my next follow-up. Tuesday nothing. Wednesday - the drop dead date. I emailed, called, and stopped by the store (closed). Now I'm panicking. Besides the design not being done, they had my marathon clothes inside the store. You can't just switch clothes (see: 'nothing new on race day'). It was too late to get the same back-up clothes. 

Rob and I were both scheduled to leave Thursday to begin the journey of the expo, volunteer work, and other obligations. In the middle of the night on Wednesday, my son woke gasping for air. He couldn't breathe. He had been clear for a year. No warning signs at all. Rob rushed him to the ER and I stayed home with my daughter. He was discharged around 8am and we all rushed to drive Rob to the train station - unpacked, so that he wouldn't miss his volunteer obligation at the Javits Center. Thank God my little dude is OK. 

Another ramification of the ER visit was that I also missed my last shake-out run with Milltown and my planned moment to break-in my new shoes. 

Kid in hospital. No clothes. Shoes not tested. 

I eventually packed up our stuff and got myself to the city to meet up as his shift ended. We successfully went through the Expo with some Milltown friends. But something just felt off - different. We weren't excited or happy. We were tired and sad.

On Friday we unexpectedly spent the day looking for a printer in Manhattan to have them replicate my design on some older running clothes (shoutout to F&H Print on 29th Street for the rush job). 

The highlight of my whole weekend was Opening Ceremony on Friday night in Central Park. The people who attend really want to be there - and you can feel that energy and positivity. We got to dance on the finish line with people from all around the world while a DJ spun tunes. 

The next morning we kept our tradition of running the Abbott Dash 5K - the marathon pre-race. I think we're up to number 8 now! Rob's desire to take it easy meant we could run together. When we felt like we were pushing too hard, our strategy was to speak in Italian to each other to slow down. Worked like a charm!

On Saturday evening, we attended a marathon focused mass at St. Francis of Assisi on 28th Street. Just like last year, Father Brian was kind, compassionate, and relatable. As a 61-time marathoner himself, I trust him fully. He told us to "keep pace with God's pace" and to remember our WHY. I cannot stress enough how much I love this church and how I wished I lived locally to be part of it. 

Then it was time for the infamous final meal, which we changed up from the traditional. Don't worry - we tested it! Instead of a carb heavy Italian meal, we had sushi instead. I didn't leave the meal feeling heavy or bloated. It was very portioned where I ate just enough, but not past the point of fullness.

Still - something felt off. It's like something wasn't passing the vibe check.

Sunday morning bright and early (well not bright, still dark out), we began the trek to Staten Island. Subway, Ferry, Bus. It was nice to have a Milltown group together in Runner's Village across different waves, colors, and start times. The time went by really fast. It felt like we would send someone off - bathroom, snack, water, clothes. And then it was already time to prep the next person! There was no one left to prep me - I was the last man standing. But I did have Megan to walk into my corral! 

The next 5 hours were hard. Really hard. Even though my goal was 04:45, my corral had the 04:25 pacer - which was my projected time in Corral A, the very front of Wave 5. My plan was to hold back until they all passed, but that's not what happened. I spent months warning newbies about that New York energy. Sometimes chasing goals is about discipline, and other times it's about taking risks. In that moment, I took a chance on myself to see how hard I can push it. I held it for about 11 miles - then things fell apart. My pace started to drop - I was really tired. 

Then something new happened. In my exhaustion, I was fixated on all the faces on the sidelines. A good place to look for motivation and cheer. The humanity I spoke of earlier. I did find the humanity, but it wasn't directed at me. 

What I saw was families and friends with matching shirts. Big signs. Children hugging parents. Gaggles of girls screaming like sorority girls for their friend. Dudes acting like kids hyping up their bro. And I was completely and utterly alone. I had a panic attack. 

This has never happened before to me while running. In fact, I run to prevent these things. My breathing got shorter, my ear started ringing, my pulse jumped, my vision got fuzzy. I couldn't help think of Gio gasping for air just a few days prior. I don't know how long it lasted - maybe a few minutes. The memory is not super clear and I kept running through it. 

When I 'came to' and began regulating my breathing again, I immediately hated myself for being weak. So I cried - in exhaustion and self hate. My thoughts included...Why aren't you good enough like these other runners? Why didn't people show up for you? 

You're not worthy to be loved. You're weird and unlikeable. You look stupid doing this. You don't belong here. You're fat. You're ugly. Tears rolled down my face. 

Maybe that's what I deserved for saying I could do this alone. 

But I kept going. Again, I looked at the strangers on the sideline. But this time, I engaged with their music. I gave people high-fives. While I mourned the life I'll never have, I also decided to absorb the kindness of 2 million complete strangers who became my friends that day.

Some bright spots - all the support from the running community. Milltown repping. Bauer and the Athletic beer. Rich's megaphone. Taking a wide turn in Brooklyn and seeing Fred and Kara. Crazy Will in his usual spot in Central Park. I am thankful for all those runners who get it.

The first time I stopped to walk was around mile 20 on the Willis Ave Bridge into the Bronx. Suddenly, the sweetest older black woman told me "follow me baby girl". I began pacing this angel through mile 24, until I lost her in a crowded spot. This woman, this angel, gets full credit for my miraculous comeback out of the Bronx into Harlem. I wish I captured her name or bib number.

I did NOT hit the infamous wall on 5th Avenue. I got back on track and my pace stayed extremely consistent through the end. The cumulative damage was done, but the curse had been broken! 

Our parents came for the first time and brought the kids to 59th Street before the final turn at Columbus Circle. I would be lying if I said I really saw them. I told the kids that I saw them - but it was a blur and crowded. Rob was already there and said they were completely exhausted. I also did not see Rob. I felt really hurt by that. 

Here we are 2 weeks later. I don't think I'm any wiser. My toes are bruised. My heart is bruised. I'll never know why people didn't show up for me. The post-marathon blues are hitting me hard like a ton of bricks.

I'm happy for Rob's new passion. Heck it's my fault! But I know in my heart that we both cannot run it next year. We simply cannot. One of us should be out there cheering with the kids...and the other should be running the course. The question will be - how do we decide?

In the meantime, I already have a few races lined up to look forward to this winter.  Ted Corbitt 15K in December, SRC 10 Mile Run to Moriches Field Brewery in January, and the Manhattan 10K in February. Frozen toes await me. 

Something to Prove

I am exactly 2 weeks out from my third NYC Marathon. Emotions are high, but luckily pain is low. I'm excited for the whole race experience ahead, dare I say eager to tackle the course. I'm feeling more prepared than ever before, between my wisdom from past experiences and a solid training cycle. I'm feeling foolishly optimistic this week, as I took 20 minutes off my first 20-miler in September to my second 20-miler this week. Even NYRR has me projected at a 4:25 marathon finish. Though my estimate is a much more conservative 4:45, a new PR and continuing the pattern of shaving about ~15 minutes off the prior year. And finally, the weather has begun to cool down! Though we all know... anything can happen when it comes to race day. 

Despite all my excitement for the actual marathon, the past few weeks have been filled with many levels of disappointment and some bad luck. Omens of more bad to come! (just kidding)

My bad luck began when I missed the NYRR registration cycle for early 2026 races. Including Washington Heights, my current 5K PR and sentimental part of my running journey. In ten years of this game, I have never missed registration. My brain is full, max capacity. I even missed the calendar reminder I had set. 

The negativity continued with my first ever race cancellation. A major one, at that! The October 12th Staten Island Half was cancelled due to a severe storm that was projected to hit NYC early morning of the race (spoiler alert, it did not). While I understand safety comes first, it was extremely frustrating given all the preparation, logistics, time, and money spent. And the training! And the role it played in my marathon training cycle! It was my dress rehearsal. 

I believe they overreacted, perhaps rightfully so, specifically because of the race location. If the storm hit as planned or even shifted for the worse, it would have been a logistical nightmare with the ferry carrying 20,000 people back and forth. With no shelter in place areas on the course. And a course in a flood zone that borders the coastline the whole race. I believe if this was another Half location, it wouldn't have been cancelled. 

The bright spot of this disaster was shifting my run to an uptown 1st Ave 13 miles with Rob, including part of the marathon course. I saw great pace improvement as I was "chasing" him (hate him).

The last wave of disappointment was quite literally a Wave (assignment). With much anticipation, I received my wave assignment this past week. Despite improving and getting faster, I was moved back from wave 4 to wave 5 (the last wave). Somewhat expected, but still shocking. 

Why did this happen? The field gets more diverse every year and the fast get faster. And some people get special treatment with no regard to their pace. Essentially, the line I work towards is a moving target. By the time I achieve it, they move the line, making it harder for me. 

Why does this matter? Without going on a soapbox about fairness...it puts me at a further disadvantage. After a very early wake-up and long trek, It's a lot more waiting time on Staten Island. It's a later start time with worse course conditions, resources, and temperatures. It's a later finish time, potentially dark. 

And the most significant, there will be anywhere between 15,000-20,000 other runners I will likely pass, who got to start before me. I will literally be fighting my way through, just for a chance. Sounds like life. 

That's all fine. Beast mode activated. Let's GO. 

Despite all of that, the weirdest part this year is that I'm doing this all solo. No fanfare, no support, no strategically placed friends and family, no gear and fuel hand-offs, no post festivities to look forward to. 

But that's not fully true (or fair). I have Rob, though it's his race and my race, separately. 

I have NYC - normally strangers, but not on marathon Sunday. Community. 

I have Milltown, who played a critical role in this year's training cycle. When others didn't understand the crazy, they did. When I didn't have a cheerleader, they cheered. When others told me to stop, they told me to go. 

And I have the spirit of my ancestors guiding me through. Their voices, songs, and legacy give me purpose and strength. They would be shocked. Nonna would be shocked. And hopefully proud. 

Despite having enough emotional and self awareness to know the bigger picture here, I would be lying if I said I didn't have something to prove. I definitely do. 

Meet Me in the Middle

A mid-way update! I'm entering my 9th week of marathon training, with 9 weeks left to go! That means 9 more long runs, 9 more fueling adjustments, 9 more fit checks, 9 more chances to "get it right". 

Training has mostly been going really well. I've been loving the plan I created for myself based on mix of past experience and trusted experts. I've been generally much more relaxed and calm during this year's process. I was even able to bump up my mileage on some group runs, however, my pace has been much slower than expected. Some of that I attribute to the heat and some to my commute and the repeat early mornings that are killing me. Per usual - it's a delicate balancing act of competing priorities. 

I HAD (keyword) been pain free for nearly a whole year now (insert shocked face here). But that dream has come to an end. Don't worry, I knew it was coming. It was never a matter of IF but rather WHEN. On August 16th (my 36th birthday!), I ran a NYRR organized 12-mile training run in Central Park (week 7). While the event itself went well, by the next evening, those CP hills got to me. My IT band has been hurting ever since. The first few days felt really bad. I laid off all running and was icing and rolling out daily. A week later I suffered through my next long (stupid, but the leg held). 

Part of me thinks my shoes failed me. I've been dealing with shoe drama since the beginning of this year. In short - they stopped making the model of Saucony I depend for stability (to "prevent" my IT band issues). I have two pairs left which I treat like gold bricks. In fear and desperation, I got fitted for a new model of shoes earlier this year I got put into a pair of New Balance. No bueno. At first I tossed them aside ($140 later), but over the spring, I forced myself to get more miles on them to basically "re-train" my body to accept them. It seemed to have worked...up until this point. I don't think they handled the CP hills well. 

For that next long run (week 8: 14 miles), I begrudgingly opened one of the Saucony boxes up (and cried a little inside). But man was it night and day in terms of support and ground feedback. Pure luxury. 

On a positive note, two highlights from that CP run included running with my Milltown buddy Meg (helped keep each other in check!)❤️And my friend Will surprising me in Central Park at mile 10 with a birthday beer 🍺 Sadly, I'm weak (and not German) - couldn't chug the whole thing! But it made my day to see him! I also believe my nutrition and fueling was spot on as I didn't crash post run or the days following. A good mix of gels, Gatorade stops, Coconut water (new!) and pure water.

STATUS UPDATE  🗓️🏃🏻‍♀️😵‍💫

Week 1: 8 miles ✔️
Week 2: 10 miles ✔️
Week 3: 8 miles ✔️
Week 4: 10 miles ✔️
Week 5: 8 miles ✔️ (actually did 12!)
Week 6: 8 miles ✔️(actually did 9!)
Week 7: 12 miles ✔️ (Central Park training run)
Week 8: 14 miles ✔️ (actually did 15!)
Week 9: 8 miles
Week 10: 16 miles
Week 11: 8 miles (adjusting to 12 to take advantage of an overnight in NYC)
Week 12: 20 miles
Week 13: 8 miles
Week 14: 18 miles
Week 15: 13 miles (Staten Island Half)
Week 16: 20 miles
Week 17: 8 miles → Taper
Week 18: Marathon 🎉

Besides healing, dealing with my shoes, and all this running...🫠 my next steps are planning my marathon clothing. Luckily I have a style of tank and shorts picked out already (phew - big stress in years past). So this is more about color and theme. Hey - I need to have some fun with it all! 💅🏼

Here We Go Again

Hot summer days have finally arrived in New York. In typical northeast fashion, we complained this brutal winter, and again during a chilly and rainy spring. Then we were finally gifted a full humid heat wave. I don't mind - I embrace the sun! I appreciate any consistency within a season. Though it definitely means earlier mornings, sunblock, and different gear when it comes to running. 

Somehow, we are here again. Week 1 of NYC Marathon training has arrived. Though it feels like it never stopped, the official-ness of it all certainly has a different feel. Though I'm not following anyone's official plan, my plan is straightforward and based off my past experience, successes, and failures. The focus of my plan has three main components:

1. Base / Step-down week + Increased long run week
2. Injury prevention
3. Room for grace
   

1. Base / Step-down week + Increased long run week

The premise of most marathon training plans is simple. Each week you go up in mileage and the next week you go down. Up and down. For me that base number is going to be 8 miles. This is based off my past experience in terms of feeling 'just hard enough' and length of time running (just over an hour). Why not always up? It's not good for conditioning and repair. Which leads to my next point...

2. Injury prevention

Clearly I'm very injury prone (see: past 10 years of blog posts). While I've been injury free for a full year now (probably shouldn't have said that), I know that my ankles are weakened from past sprains and my IT band will flare up if I don't sequence correctly, properly rest, and manage my shoes. So much knowledge now. Unfortunately nothing I could have learned from a book. It's all very specific to me. This plan will focus on those components to reduce risk as much as possible. With almost certainty, something will happen. It always does. But hey, I can try?

3. Room for grace

Lastly, the third component allows room for error. This should not be confused for lack of effort. But more so the conditions outside of my control. Extreme weather, sickness, etc. It's ok to miss a week or delay slightly. The consequences of making a mistake are much higher than playing catch-up later.

Ok, so what's the grand plan already? Drum roll...

Bosco 2025 NYC Marathon Training Plan (air horn sound)

Week 1: 8 miles (this week!)
Week 2: 10 miles
Week 3: 8 miles
Week 4: 10 miles
Week 5: 8 miles
Week 6: 12 miles
Week 7: 8 miles
Week 8: 14 miles
Week 9: 8 miles
Week 10: 16 miles
Week 11: 8 miles
Week 12: 20 miles
Week 13: 8 miles
Week 14: 18 miles
Week 15: 13 miles (Staten Island Half)
Week 16: 20 miles
Week 17: 8 miles → Taper
Week 18: Marathon 🎉

There are four big differences in my plan for my third marathon:

The first is that the first 4 weeks (July) are roughly just mimicking what I've already been doing. That winter + spring base I already described. So, July is just about consistency and generally low stakes.

The second thing involves less work (yay!) For my first marathon, I was running a few times a week. A mix of short runs and the big long run. For my second marathon, because I was injured during the bulk of training, I was only running twice a week - short run + long run. This will be the max I will be running for my third marathon. The other stuff I'm doing will support my running - the cycling, CrossFit, weigh-training. Running more is not going to make me a better runner. But running smarter will. 

The third change is pretty big - the introduction of a second 20-mile run. Most beginner plans call for just one 20-miler before the taper period. But as you move into intermediate plans, many experts start to suggest a second one. Why? Your body can handle it. It will provide additional feedback for race day pacing and planning. It can also help build mental fortitude. 

In a similar fashion, the fourth change is more of 'nice to have'. I'm planning to actually run the marathon course as part of my training. I remember thinking it was odd to not touch the course between 2023 and 2024...until that actual day. A full year apart. Of course I had memories of what to expect (and not like I didn't nerd-out to study every detail beforehand), but it's not the same as feeling it with your feet. Especially the part where I struggle most, from mile 21 coming off the Madison Ave Bridge into Harlem, down the 5th Ave big elevation climb, into Central Park, around Columbus Circle to the finish line at mile 26+. That part SUCKS. So I'm going to get really familiar with it. If I can have just an ounce more energy or confidence when I get off the Madison Ave Bridge this coming November, it would have been worth it.

2023: 05:12:08
2024: 04:57:14
2025 Goal: 04:45:00

This goal is extremely tangible. It's the same pacing plan I already followed, minus the giant slow down from mile 22+. And I have about ~10 minutes of leeway to miss my goal but still set a new PR. 

While I don't have any major races coming up until the Staten Island Half in October, I'm participating in my first ever organized cycling event. In just three short weeks, I'll be riding 25 miles along the south shore of Long Island (over a bridge!) in support of the Wounded Warriors organization. While the distance does not scare me, riding next to other bikes certainly does! I have no idea what that feels like from a mental, physical, or even safety point of view. I'll have a bib number, but it's not a race. I'm curious to time myself to see how long it will take me! 

Run in Gratitude

2025 BROOKLYN HALF RECAP: 

It was a whirlwind of emotions throughout the weekend into this current week. And what a weekend it was. Some disappointment, some soreness, but mostly gratitude. Thankful to be alive, not injured, and to have completed the task at hand. 

I've said this before, but this weekend could not have been a better example. Training does not equal race day. Race day is out of your control. This will sound harsh. This year's Brooklyn Half was probably the worst race I have ever run across any distance, location, or year. Yes, even more painful then both full NYC Marathons. 

The biggest factor at play was quite simple - the weather. The Brooklyn Half has had notoriously bad weather for the past few years. This was my 4th time running it and it has gotten worse each time.

Regardless of experience level, most runners (in the Northeast anyway) have been training in winter or mild temps. Similar to the NYC Marathon, most runners are doing the bulk of their training early morning - not mimicking the later start time of this race. On top of this, climate change has accelerated temperature increases. We've had a few unusually hot days already this spring. Lastly, the historical Brooklyn course is not favorable. The humidity in Prospect Park has runners in a chokehold for the first half of the race and the blazing sun upon black pavement on Ocean Parkway offers no relief for the second half of the race.

And the strange part is - I didn't even see any of this coming. Though I should have. I was beyond well-trained. Mostly well-rested. Nutrition on point. And in good spirits at the start. I studied my pacing plan well to hit my PR goal of sub 2:10 (hoping for 2:07). 

My wave and corral also felt like a big disadvantage. As wave 3, I had a later start than others. Then I experienced a big bottleneck of runners through mile 1 - crowded and extra hot. Though I was immediately suffering, I WAS on my target pace for miles 2-4. In the park, there's a sizeable hill to climb between miles 5-6 where there happens to be the most foliage and tree coverage (extra humid). That's where my pace took went off the rails going from a 9:21 to 10:49. I didn't panic yet, knowing the hill was going to be hard and that I had built in extra buffer time for this. But by the time I exited the park around mile 7...I knew there was no saving it. My pace then continued to plummet - 10:41, 11:13, 11:19. Then I received an alert on my watch from NYRR that a 'dangerous course' advisory has been issued (Ok, well at least I wasn't crazy).

I had to make a mental choice on how to handle the disappointment. I decided to "give up" and start having fun. I danced to spectators' music, I high-fived little kids, I smacked "power up" Super Mario signs, I took a sip of Drew's beer. I used the water stations as little 20-second walking pit-stops to recharge and say thank you to the volunteers. Brooklyn vibes were on point this year. While the race was the worst one I had ever run, the crowd support was inspiring. Strangers, taking time of their day. Celebrating their neighborhood and different cultures.

That was A LOT about me. I wasn't alone! There were over 20,000+ runners with me. Big and small. Black, white, brown, and everything in between. Old and young. Experienced and just getting started. Slow and fast. My people - just like me. With this burning, unexplainable calling. We are never satisfied. 

Rob ran as well (and happy to report that he also suffered, at least I can find solace in my competitive nature). I also tricked (I mean pushed) two newbies to enter the lottery this year on the premise that they'll "never get in". "Oops I did it again" - they got in. My coworker Caroline and my good friend Rebekah tackled their first official Half. While I ran my own race, I found joy in sharing parts of the experience with them, and proud of their accomplishment. There was also a few members of the Milltown crew!

Lastly, in addition to the crowd support, I had some pit crew help along the miles. While I didn't need any supplies this year (wow...I'm experienced now!), I certainly needed the support. And the beer at the end. Don't forget the beer. After, we all celebrated together in Coney Island with hot dogs, oysters, and clams.

Later in the day, I found out about some of the suffering of my people. Similar to past Brooklyn Halfs, there was an extremely tragic death of a young man. Bad news continued to pour in about several ambulances, cardiac issues, collapses, dehydration, and a mental breakdown.

With an official 2025 finish time of 2:18:30 (vs. my PR of 2:10:59 in 2024), I've come to the reality that I'm probably never going to PR this course again. The first thing that popped into my head when I finished was exactly that: I'm no longer going to chase a PR on this course. I'm simply "done". This will always be my favorite race, but I think I'm going to start enjoying it from mile 1 in the future. And simply run in gratitude.