By a Grumpy Upper West Sider
I’m just going to say it: I hate the NYC Marathon.
I don’t get it. Beyond the enormous inconvenience to those of us who live near the finish line on the Upper West Side, I cannot understand why anyone would voluntarily pay to participate.
Don’t get me wrong. I love running. I run multiple times a week. But never once have I wanted to wake up before dawn on a Sunday, trek all the way to Staten Island, stand around in the cold with thousands of strangers, and wait hours for the privilege of spending several more hours running.
As someone born and raised in this city, the closest I ever got to Staten Island was passing it on a ferry during an elementary school class trip. I have never felt the need to improve upon that record.
People say they do it for the challenge. For the camaraderie. To be part of something bigger than themselves. Fine. But personally, I would like to be part of something that starts later in the day and is closer to my apartment.
What really gets me is the idea that completing a marathon is the ultimate proof of physical fitness. Among the people I know who have trained for one, the conversation often seems to revolve around what hurts: knees, hips, feet, ankles. Someone is limping. Someone is seeing a physical therapist. Someone is determined to run despite being told to rest.
At a certain point, I have to ask: Are you enjoying this?
I understand wanting a goal. I understand feeling proud of doing something difficult. What I don’t understand is why running 26.2 miles has become such a celebrated benchmark that getting to the starting line in pain can seem like evidence of dedication rather than a reason to reconsider.
And then there’s the medal. Yes, you covered an impressive distance. But the medal is also, technically, a participation trophy—the grown-up version of the one you got in Little League, except this one comes with chafing and difficulty walking down stairs.
You can wear it as you limp around afterward so everyone knows you ran the marathon. Then you can have brunch with friends, wrapped in tin foil and still wearing the clothes you’ve spent the last four hours sweating in.
I’ll be the person trying to figure out how to get across the neighborhood.
No, thank you.
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100%. Thank you! It is a nightmare. All those smug people with their medals and foil make going anywhere impossible. And the noise. For what? It’s a huge waste of money and time. If only our society could spend its resources educating and feeding people instead of things like this.
I said the same thing in a comment three years ago that was deleted by the moderator
Don’t feel bad. I’ve been deleted a lot, even for innocuous comments, such as, “I really miss Capezio,’ lol. In any case, I’m thrilled that this story finally made it into the WSR. 🥳
Me too!
Weird and hateful post
The rest of us love it.
That’s a pretty sweeping statement. I, for one, don’t love it (but I don’t loathe it, either).
No, we don’t. PREACH author!!
“But personally, I would like to be part of something that starts later in the day and is closer to my apartment.”
I love it! That’s my motto about most things in life.
Wow. You must be fun at parties:)
I don’t “hate” it. But last year I had to get to a doctor’s appt in Midtown and it was impossible to find a place to cross an Avenue I needed to cross. I ended up being a few minutes late, when I had intended to arrive early (and left early enough to do so).
Assuming the author is not being ironic, I must say that I have to agree with some of the points raised. Every year I deal with trying to get across town on Marathon Sunday and am constantly thwarted. I can’t take the subway to where I need to go and walking takes too long. I give up!
Lots of people run in honor of a charity and raise money for that cause. Many people also run in support or memory of a loved one. I was in high school on 9/11 and I still remember watching the NYC marathon not 2 months later–incredibly moving.
I would have rather read one of their stories.