Each year, I enter the lottery to run the New York City Marathon. In 2023, I was among the fortunate few selected to run. Thinking it would be a once-in-a-lifetime experience, I savored every moment.
Last spring, after receiving another “You were not selected” email, I entered the lottery for a chance to earn a spot in the 2026 race by completing a virtual marathon in 2025. That’s when I noticed that the 2026 New York City Marathon falls on my fiftieth birthday. Along with the usual emotions that come with turning fifty was the unsettling realization that my mother died in her fifties. I would be entering a decade she never left.
I first shared the news with my husband, who was supportive, of course, but couldn’t resist teasing me. I had recently been named my district’s Teacher of the Year, and we were already trying to navigate the responsibilities that came with the honor.
“Maybe you could win something that didn’t require so much extra work,” he joked as we added “train for a marathon” to our already packed schedules.
I trained for the virtual race with a simple goal: get the distance recorded on Strava. New York Road Runners provides a two-week window to complete the marathon, so I chose the first weekend in case something went wrong and I needed the extra time.
The weather was perfect. Mike had mentioned taking a trip to Maine, but after hearing my plans, he decided to stay home in case I needed him. Instead, he tackled a few projects around the house, including cleaning the furnace.
Eleven miles into my run, my phone rang.
“Babe, I need you to come home. The oil tank is leaking.”
I literally ran the two miles home and jumped in to help. Our amazing neighbor arrived with a wooden dowel, which he used to plug the hole in the tank and stop the flow.
I paused my Garmin while we moved items out of the utility room. Mike then asked me to run to Home Depot and buy as many five-gallon buckets as I could find. Since we had recently filled the tank, we hoped to collect the leaking oil—not only to prevent a disaster in the basement but also to transfer it into the replacement tank.
When I arrived at Home Depot, I was a hot mess. Sweaty from thirteen miles of running and overwhelmed by the prospect of a costly home repair, I asked an employee where to find buckets. He informed me they were located at the end of every aisle, sending me sprinting through the store like a contestant on Supermarket Sweep.
As I searched, I decided to restart my run on my Garmin. I figured I might as well get credit for all the extra steps. I still hoped to return to the road once the oil tank situation was under control and finish the marathon that day.
Unfortunately, because so much time had passed, the run settings had changed. When I restarted the activity, my Garmin deleted the original thirteen-mile run.
That was the moment I began ugly crying while frantically searching Home Depot for buckets. Not only would I have to redo half the marathon, but we were also facing a repair bill that would likely cost thousands of dollars. The poor cashier who rang up twenty-five buckets and lids seemed confused but remained wonderfully polite.
I always try to find silver linings.
Two weeks earlier, Mike had lost his Yeti coffee mug after a trip to the beach. It was the definition of a first-world problem—a $50 coffee mug—but it was covered in irreplaceable stickers. As I loaded buckets into my car, I spotted the mug peeking out from under a seat. I immediately snapped a photo and sent it to Mike, letting him know it was his lucky day.
As messy, frustrating, and expensive as the experience was, it reminded me that I married the right person. Throughout the entire ordeal, we remained calm, supportive, and respectful of one another.
The next day, I set out to complete the marathon. After running thirteen miles and emptying a utility room the day before, my enthusiasm for starting over was nonexistent. But if I wanted to begin my fifth decade by running through the five boroughs of New York with 50,000 of my closest friends, I first had to wander the streets of my hometown.
Covering thirty-eight miles in two days was awful.
I tried everything to make it bearable. I changed routes, listened to an audiobook, and packed snacks. Nothing helped. Those final five miles were among the hardest and slowest I have ever run.
Then, at mile 22, I made the greatest wandering discovery of all: a baked goods stand not far from my house. There, I found the chocolate chip cookie of my life.
I pinned the location so I could bring Mike back later. Since then, we’ve ordered from the stand several times, getting to know the owners and sharing the story of how stumbling upon their stand may have been the final push I needed to complete the marathon.
After finishing the virtual marathon in October, I eagerly and nervously waited for registration to open so I could secure my spot in New York on my fiftieth birthday.
Running the New York City Marathon on my fiftieth birthday marks the beginning of a new decade, one my mother never had the chance to experience. It reinforces my commitment to staying healthy, continuing to challenge myself, and setting new goals.
After all, we are all works in progress.
World's Okayest Runner 