60,000 People on a Sunday Morning

On Sunday, November 1, nearly 60,000 people will wake up in hotels and apartments and houses. They’ll brush their teeth and do their hair and maybe make a last second outfit change. On Sunday, nearly 60,000 people will drink water or a sports drink or coffee and they’ll put on extra layers of sweatpants and jackets, throwaway clothes that will be gone and on their way to a donation center by the afternoon.

On Sunday, nearly 60,000 people will catch a taxi, a bus, a ferry. They’ll wave at the Statue of Liberty in the distance. They’ll pin and repin a piece of paper on the front of their shirt as they sit in a starting village. Resting. Stretching. Trying not to let nerves settle in. They’ll check their watch and then check it again, only to see three minutes have passed.

On Sunday, in multiple waves, 60,000 people will line up on the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge. Someone will perform the national anthem. Some of these 60,000 will sing along. Some of these 60,000 will pray.

And then, over the course of three and a half hours, nearly 60,000 people will cross the start line of the New York City Marathon.

Nearly 60,000 people will run the first of five bridges before beginning a nearly 11 mile trek through Brooklyn. Nearly 60,000 people will run in Bay Ridge, Sunset Park, Park Slope, Fort Greene, Bed-Stuy, Williamsburg, and Greenpoint.

Then they’ll run across the Pulaski Bridge, the second of the day, into Long Island City for a short 2 and a half miles in Queens. And then these nearly 60,000 people will cross the Queensboro Bridge as they enter Manhattan. Up through Manhattan and into the Bronx. Out of the Bronx and back to Manhattan. And these nearly 60,000 people will enter Central Park for just a couple miles more… for one final push.

On Sunday, November 1, nearly 60,000 people will run the New York City marathon. Some for the first time. Some for the twenty first. Some of them grew up here. Some of them have never before been to the United States. Someone raised money for charity. Someone else got in with the lottery. Someone is running as an anecdote for grief. Someone is running because they lost a bet.

It is a stunning thing, to watch nearly 60,000 people achieve a dream simultaneously. And yet in that mass of humanity, are nearly 60,000 individual stories. 60,000 reasons to sign up, to work hard, to say yes. 60,000 stories of mapping out long runs and finding the best fuel and debating the smartest outfit.

And on this Sunday where nearly 60,000 people run the five boroughs, an estimated 2 million spectators will line the course in celebration. They will hold banners and shake noisemakers. They will cheer for their loved one and cheer for a stranger. They will shout until their voice is sore and many, many someones in that 2 million will put it on their heart, “I too want to do this someday.”

And you, the 60,000 strong—you, the singular person with a unique bib—you will be someone’s inspiration. Because you had 60,000 opportunities to quit. But you turned that into 60,000 opportunities to believe.

Good luck to the 2026 New York City Marathoners. We’ll be cheering for you.