What running the NYC Marathon in 2018 taught me as a Disabled Runner
I spent the last 48 hours scrolling through Instagram, and for once, I don't feel guilty about it at all. It was absolutely worth it. To everyone who crossed the finish line at the 2025 NYC Marathon: congratulations! I hope you're wearing your medal everywhere this week and riding that runner's high. What an incredible accomplishment. You should be so proud of the discipline and countless hours of training you dedicated to making this happen.
My NYC Marathon story began in 2001 when I wrote my Stanford Business School essay on "What matters most to you and why?" I wrote: "I still daydream about running a marathon and hope that one day they will find a cure for Dystonia. What matters most? I want to win this fight. I want to destroy this monster that has attacked my body. And if I don't, so be it." The ironic part is that I had never run a day in my life, but those words poured out as I was writing.
Seventeen years after that essay, I got the opportunity to run the NYC Marathon. While I didn't know it then, running a marathon teaches you so much about yourself. But being a disabled runner in the NYC Marathon teaches you something even more profound: the importance of empathy and community.
Here are some of the beautiful moments I will always cherish from running the NYC Marathon:
The Last Corrals: The earlier corrals seem to be filled with serious racers chasing PRs. These final corrals are all about heart and soul. Here you meet runners racing for their mom who died of cancer or their uncle fighting Parkinson's. The common thread is purpose. They're running to bring awareness to a disease, to honor someone, to create change.
Kindness of Strangers: The number of people who come out to cheer is overwhelming. Strangers read your shirt and call out "Run Carrie Run" despite never having met you. At mile 24, when I was struggling, someone told me, "There's no way you came this far to give up." There truly are angels in this race, reminding you of the humanity that still exists in our country. And the signs, the humor of people never cease to amaze me.
Inclusion: The best part of the NYC Marathon is that they allow everyone to finish. There are people crossing the finish line at midnight who started their journey at 3am. This ethos of inclusion is what makes NYC the greatest marathon on earth.
Lessons Learned:
26.2 Miles is a Long Way: This distance challenges you no matter how many hours you've trained. The ironic part is that by the time you reach the start line, you've already logged hundreds of miles. My takeaway: life is long. No matter how many ups and downs you face, life is a long race you train for every single day.
One Foot in Front of the Other: It really is that simple. All the fancy watches and the pressure you put on yourself can be overwhelming. Just keep moving forward. Remind yourself of the goal, and the finish line will come eventually.
The Dreaded Wall: Life presents you with many walls, but just keep pushing through. When you get to the other side, you'll remind yourself just how strong you are. We can all do hard things, and the NYC Marathon is HARD.
My Most Cherished Moments:
My Friends: My friends came out to support their bionic friend. Those familiar faces on the course, those hugs, were reminders that you always have a cheering squad.
Mile 24: I ran right in front of Mount Sinai, the hospital I was wheeled out of twelve years prior with two holes in my head, wondering what I had just done. In that moment, I remembered that decision brought me to this day, running the NYC Marathon.
The Finish Line: It represented more to me than just a medal. When my foot touched that line, I crossed it for every person who now knows about Dystonia, for every person with Dystonia who will never be as lucky as I am, for my medical teams who put up with my endless questions, for my mom and dad and their unwavering love and support, and for my sister Suzie, who really is the runner in the family but Dystonia robbed her of that. Crossing the finish line was for both of us. And the tears? As much as I said I wasn't going to cry, everyone does, because that finish line represents a story for everyone.
NYC, thank you for the memory of a lifetime in 2018. You really are the city where dreams come true.
