Around 5 am on Sunday, November 2, more than 55,000 people wearing lots of layers, sweatpants, and brightly colored sneakers will take to the sidewalks of New York City. They will be making their way toward the buses and boats that will transport them to Staten Island. Most will be nervous, having woken up at least an hour prior to undergo their morning ritual of a carb-heavy breakfast and coffee—a routine perfected for optimization over months and months of training. They’re taking part in the New York City marathon, and they’re heading toward the starting line. For runners, the marathon event commences five or six hours before the race officially begins.

I will be among those pilgrimaging across the water. I will take my cue and stand among the masses at the starting line with bated breath. Waiting. At some point, when I am ready, I will shed my layers and drop them into the blue Goodwill bins to be redistributed to those in need. I will feel excited listening to “The Star-Spangled Banner,” which will be sung live before the first starting gun goes off, and try to mentally get In The Zone. I’ll take courage from the people I stand shoulder to shoulder with, comforted by the fact that we are all in this together. We all have our reasons for being there—we all have individual goals, hopes, and fears that we’ll confront during the next few hours on foot. For now, collectively, we pause. 

The New York City Marathon in 2001 (Mario Tama/Getty)

This is the 55th year of the New York City Marathon. And most of those who will cross the starting line will be raising money for charity. The 2024 race raised $79 million for 662 charity partners, a 16 percent year-on-year increase, according to New York Road Runners, the non-profit organization that hosts the event. Among those benefiting is Every Mother Counts, the charity founded by model Christy Turlington that has been participating in the NYC marathon since 2011, and the Breast Cancer Research Foundation. Runners accepted into each charity program raise upwards of $3,000 to secure their spot.

Marathons are booming in popularity as run club culture takes hold globally. In line with this, the number of runners fundraising for charity is also on an upward sprint. Charity sports are in hot demand, generating huge waitlists as appetite outstrips availability —a fundraising bib for the New York City Marathon is the ticket to bag. Not only that, it brings an additional $1 billion into the New York City economy from traveling runners who arrive from around 140 countries each year. It’s a big-ticket event that requires a huge commitment of time, energy, resources, and, for runners, training. It’s committing time before work; fitting long runs in around family life; being disciplined with sleep, nutrition, and recovery. Those running a marathon are jokingly renowned for telling everyone and anyone who will listen about the fact that they are running a marathon for a reason—it’s an all-consuming process.

Whether someone is a seasoned elite or a first-time charity participant, those crossing the starting line will be changed by the time they arrive at the finish in Central Park. The route takes them across the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge through all five boroughs, connecting the entire city, and for one day only, they’ll experience all of it on foot. They’ll see communities up close, they’ll see the storefronts shift and the music played on speakers alter; the people in the crowds differ depending on the zip code. The marathon is a microcosm of society. It’s a morning when the whole city shows up to celebrate with those undertaking this epic feat of endurance. The marathon unites people of all ages, income levels and backgrounds.

It really takes a village to make a marathon work. Those running it need the support of friends, family, and loved ones; the event itself needs thousands of volunteers who give up their time to hand out water and bananas on-course and to steward the sidewalks. It requires the city’s law enforcement and medical teams to ensure the safety of the participants and spectators. And it takes the crowd, who line the streets to cheer. Many are awaiting friends or family, standing for hours to see a runner for a split second—the rest of the time, they’re giving strangers a much-needed boost of encouragement.

Writer Grace Cook running her first marathon in London in 2022; Sportograf 

This will be my sixth marathon, and I have been touched by the levels of humanity expressed during each race. I have seen runners on-course helping each other, sharing bottles of water when a person misses an aid station. I have seen people stop running, only to restart again following encouragement from another runner or someone in the crowd. I have almost cried when strangers have called out my name, seeing the struggle or joy on my face, depending on which mile they caught me.

Credits: Ahmed Cherkaoui; Simon Roberts

Another thing that unites people in the marathon is the collective pursuit of betterment. Every person on the course is putting themselves out of their comfort zones. The human body is only designed to run for 20 miles before glycogen stores are depleted; beyond this, the body goes into survivalist mode, with the brain, its biggest muscle, temporarily shrinking. Runners lose inches in height as their spine is compressed from hours spent pounding the pavement; their muscles endure thousands of microscopic tears; their heart pumps three or four times more blood than at rest to meet the body’s demand for oxygen. All runners fear hitting The Wall. No matter your experience level, this is a shared physical response. It puts into context the enormity of the challenge. Many women will do this during their periods; many run races or train during Ramadan. There is so much power in the commitment.

The marathon is also a mental game. It starts that same morning, and endures until there’s a medal around our necks. Throughout those hours, runners will experience happiness and pain, excitement and uncertainty, discomfort and the fear of failure. Many will be running further or faster than they have ever attempted to do; in training, you never run the full marathon distance, so all bets are off. Every person will doubt themselves; many will convince themselves that they cannot finish. We remind ourselves to trust the training, which shows us that we can do difficult things. For many, knowing that they are running for a charity is the thing that keeps them going. 

Credit: Simon Roberts

I started running four years ago, and I ran my first marathon in London 10 months later. I ran my second marathon in New York, the month after that. I fundraised for the mental health charity Mind. There have been other races. For the UK’s Great North Run, the biggest half-marathon in the world, I raised money for the children’s ward that had given care over the years to my youngest sister Katie, who has cerebral palsy. The GNR was among my most difficult races; it was 77 degrees Fahrenheit, I was dehydrated, and the course was very hilly. I thought a lot about Katie, who is in a wheelchair and will never run a marathon. I kept telling myself how privileged I was to be in such pain while running; how grateful I was to be able to fundraise and learn so much about my own capabilities along the way. When I got to the finish line, 1 hour, 35 minutes later, I cried tears of joy and called home. Runners raised approximately $25 million that year.

This Sunday, the New York Marathon is set to be its biggest yet, with the most participants on record. Whether elite or amateur, the roads hold a personal story yet to be told—with each stride turning the page on an untold chapter. Some things remain constant, though. The elation of seeing loved ones in the crowd, for example. The noise of the cheers. The ecstatic vibes of running through the crowds. The feeling of finally stopping running. The experience of having a heavy medal placed around my neck—and all the pride, disbelief, and pain that got me to that point—will shape my personhood forever. All roads have led to this. New York City. A concrete jungle where dreams and memories are made.

Grace Cook is the Editorial Director of Danimás.