Hey friends,
It’s officially been one week since I ran the NYC Marathon, and my body is officially starting to recover. I got the deepest sleep I’ve had in a week and getting an X-Ray tomorrow at 10AM because I think I ran with a fractured foot.
I didn’t have a time goal entering this race, but the morning of I figured I’d send it and try to finish under four hours, even though my entire training had me ending right around five hours. 4:04 was my final time.
I've run a marathon before, but this experience was completely different. The energy, the people, and the emotions that hit me throughout the race. I don’t think I was fully prepared for any of it.
I wasn't even supposed to be running the New York City Marathon this year.
26.2 miles through New York City. What an experience.
Six Months of Training, Gone
Every year, Aaron and I do something called a Misogi.
It's essentially a big physical challenge that we commit to doing together. Something that pushes us outside our comfort zones and gives us a goal to work toward. We've done the New Jersey Marathon together in the past, and we've made a tradition out of finding something new to train for each year.
I really love this part of our relationship.
Aaron and I spend so much time together building The Founders Club. We're constantly talking about the business, our members, the events we're planning, and whatever else is happening that week.
And don't get me wrong, we love what we're building, but it's nice to have something outside of work that we're both working toward. Something where the conversation isn't about the next city we're expanding into or the next problem we need to solve.
Instead, we're talking about training, how we're progressing, and whether we're actually going to be ready when the day comes.
If you’ve been reading along all year, then you know I had a 47-mile hike called Rim2Rim2Rim that was planned all year.
If you're not familiar with it, the idea is to cross the canyon, turn around, and hike all the way back. It's a serious endurance challenge, and we knew we'd have to put in the work to prepare. So we trained for six months. Six months of getting ready for this one specific thing.
And then, two weeks before we were supposed to go, everything changed.
The Grand Canyon experienced severe flooding for like the first time ever. People lost their lives, trails were shut down, and the route we were planning to hike was no longer accessible.
Our trip was canceled.
Obviously, with people losing their lives, our canceled hike was the least important part of what happened, but we were still sitting there wondering what we were going to do. We'd spent half a year preparing for this challenge, and suddenly we didn't have one.
We decided to put it out to the world that we were looking for something else, and that's how we ended up running the New York City Marathon.
The Power of a Connection
One of our members at The Founders Club runs a charity that works directly with the New York City Marathon. When we mentioned that we were looking for another challenge, that connection opened up an opportunity for Aaron and me to participate in one of the most sought-after marathons in the world.
Getting into the NYC Marathon isn't easy. People spend years trying to qualify or secure an entry. Others raise thousands of dollars through charity programs for the opportunity to run.
And here we were, two guys who'd spent six months preparing to hike through the Grand Canyon, suddenly being given an opportunity to run through New York City instead.
Through the connection with our member, we secured two spots and raised $7,000 for Active Plus, a foundation supporting underprivileged kids. We also got to run alongside six other people who were supporting the charity.
That was pretty damn cool.
I've talked a lot about why Aaron and I started The Founders Club, and the kind of community we wanted to build. We wanted to bring founders together, create genuine relationships, and surround ourselves with people who were willing to help each other.
This was one of those moments where I got to experience that firsthand. We weren't looking for a business introduction or trying to close a deal. We were two friends looking for a physical challenge, and somebody in our community helped make it happen.
It also meant we got to raise money for kids in the process.
I love that.
With Dwayne from Active Plus, the charity we raised $7,000 to support.
The First Time, I Just Wanted to Survive
Something interesting happened with my mindset going into this marathon. When Aaron and I ran the New Jersey Marathon in 2024, I'd never done anything like that before.
I remember the question constantly running through my head.
“Am I actually going to finish this thing?”
Could I physically push my body for 26.2 miles? Would I make it to the finish line?
There was so much uncertainty because I hadn't done it before. This time, that question wasn't really there.
I'd already run a marathon. I knew what it felt like to push my body that far, and I knew I was capable of getting through it. Instead of asking myself whether I could finish, I started thinking about how much better I could do.
Could I take something I'd already accomplished and push myself to another level?
It's a pretty interesting shift when you think about it. The first time you attempt something difficult, so much of the challenge is simply proving to yourself that you can do it.
Once you've accomplished it, you don't have to spend all that mental energy wondering whether it's possible anymore. You already know. Now you're trying to figure out how far you can take it.
I see a lot of similarities with entrepreneurship.
When I was starting my first businesses, there were so many unknowns. I didn't know whether I could build something successful, whether people would buy what I was selling, or whether I could make any of it work.
Today, I've started multiple businesses. I know I can start a company. The question I'm asking myself now is how much further I can take the companies I'm building.
What does the next level actually look like?
I think that's one of the coolest things about accomplishing something difficult. You don't necessarily become satisfied with what you've done. You start wondering what else you're capable of.
Training for New York in Miami
I live in Miami. Which is incredible for a lot of reasons, but training for a fall marathon in Miami is absolutely brutal.
You're running through the summer, when the heat and humidity make spending any significant amount of time outside pretty miserable. This meant I did almost all my marathon training on a treadmill.
I think I ran outside fewer than five times, and the longest distance I covered during training was 14 miles.
For anybody who's trained for a marathon, you probably know that's not exactly ideal. You're generally supposed to work your way up to longer runs, often around 20 miles, so your body is prepared for what it's going to experience on race day.
I never got there. Even though I'd already run a marathon before, there was still a little voice in the back of my head wondering whether I'd done enough.
I'd been consistent with my training, but there's a pretty big difference between running 14 miles on a treadmill and running 26.2 miles through New York City, especially when you start adding bridges and hills into the equation.
New York is a challenging marathon course. There's a lot more elevation than people might expect, and you're constantly dealing with the bridges and changes in terrain.
I knew it wasn't going to be easy, but going into the race, I wasn't really putting a lot of pressure on myself.
My plan was pretty simple: finish the marathon and have an incredible experience.
When I woke up on race morning, I apparently decided that wasn’t enough.
Four Hours
When I ran the New Jersey Marathon in 2024, one of my goals was to finish in under four hours. I did it in 3:57.
On the morning of the NYC Marathon, I started thinking about that goal again.
I figured, screw it. Why not try?
I'd already committed to running 26.2 miles. I might as well see whether I could get it under four hours again.
Now, remember, I hadn't run farther than 14 miles in training.
I'd done almost everything on a treadmill, and I was about to attempt a pretty challenging course.
Maybe this wasn't the smartest last-minute decision I've ever made, but I wanted to give it a shot.
The race started, I settled into my pace, and almost immediately, I realized just how different this was from the New Jersey Marathon.
The energy was absolutely insane, and there were people everywhere.
People lined the streets, screaming encouragement, cheering for runners they didn't know, and creating this incredible atmosphere throughout the city.
I've never experienced anything quite like it. It felt like the entire city had come out to support everybody running.
When you're pushing yourself physically for hours, that energy makes a huge difference. At around the halfway point, at mile 13, I realized I was a little behind the pace I'd need to break four hours. I wasn't sure how the rest of the race was going to go.
I knew I still had another 13 miles ahead of me, and I hadn't covered anything close to that distance during training, but I kept pushing.
As I got closer to the finish, I decided to give it everything I had left. In the last two miles, I started running close to seven-minute miles.
I was absolutely flying, trying to make up as much time as possible.
I crossed the finish line in four hours and four minutes.
Four minutes.
That's how close I came to hitting my goal.
And you know what? I felt incredible.
Sure, it would have been awesome to see a three at the beginning of my finishing time, but I'd just run the New York City Marathon. I pushed myself harder than I expected and had gotten pretty damn close to a goal I'd set for myself two years earlier.
I was super proud of that.
Four hours and four minutes. Pretty damn proud of this one.
I Started Crying
There were multiple moments during the marathon when I started crying.
I'm not exaggerating. Legit full out bawling my eyes out.
I'd be running along, pushing my body, taking in everything happening around me, and suddenly I'd get overwhelmed with emotion. It was a really euphoric feeling.
Part of it was the physical challenge.
When you're running that far, you're pushing your body well beyond what it normally experiences. You're tired, you're uncomfortable, and you have to keep convincing yourself to move forward.
But it was also the environment. There were thousands of people around me doing the exact same thing.
Every runner had made a decision to be there. They'd spent months preparing, made sacrifices, and committed themselves to accomplishing something difficult.
All along the course, there were people cheering us on. Complete strangers who had no idea who we were, but wanted us to succeed.
I found myself thinking about how fortunate I was to be there.
To be healthy enough to run a marathon.
To have the opportunity to participate in something that so many people dream about doing.
To be surrounded by all that energy and support.
Sometimes you're so focused on accomplishing the next thing that you forget to appreciate the fact that you get to do these things in the first place.
I think that was a big part of what hit me during the race. I was exhausted, my body was hurting, and I was having one of the best experiences of my life.
All at the same time.
Mile 25
My college roommate, who was also my first business partner, came out to watch me run. He actually helped hold a spot for my wife, Lyndsey, so she could get a great view of me around mile 16.
Near the end of the race, I saw him again. Mile 25.
I'd been running for hours. My legs were exhausted; I was trying to push toward the finish, and there he was. I ran over, gave him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, and kept going.
It was such a small moment in the middle of this massive event, but it meant so much to me.
I remember seeing something on Instagram about how you'll never forget the people who showed up to support you during a marathon, and I completely understand that now.
Having Lyndsey there, Gabby (Aaron's fiancée), and Davante and his family was incredibly special. These are people who took time out of their lives to be there for us, and when you're 25 miles into a marathon, you really feel that.
I'll remember that moment at mile 25 for a very long time.
Couldn’t have asked for a better suport crew.
What’s Next?
The morning after the marathon, my legs were absolutely destroyed. The best way I can describe it is this:
Imagine climbing over the railing of a ten-foot balcony, hanging off the edge, and then letting yourself drop. You land directly on your legs.
That's what walking felt like the next morning. Surprisingly, my body recovered much faster than it did after my first marathon.
I was already back in the gym doing a full workout a few days later, and I think part of that comes from having pushed my body through something like this before. I've also been more consistent with my training, and I think that's made a difference.
Even after all that pain, I already have the itch to run another marathon next year. I really love having something to train for. Something on the calendar that gives me a reason to get up, put in the work, and keep improving.
I've realized that about myself over the years. I don't enjoy going through life without goals. I like having something to chase, and it doesn't always have to be about business.
That's part of why Aaron and I started doing these annual challenges in the first place. We spend so much of our lives building companies and working toward professional goals that it's nice to have something completely different to push ourselves toward.
The marathon also reinforced something I've come to believe about life in general: you don't need anybody's permission to try something. You can decide you want to run a marathon, start a business, create a community, or take on some completely different challenge.
You might discover you're terrible at it. That's okay.
I want to see what I'm capable of, and I want to keep building a life where I have the freedom to do things like this.
I missed my four-hour goal by four minutes, but when I think back on that day, I'm not thinking about the clock. I'm thinking about the people cheering along the course, the moments when I couldn't stop crying, and seeing my old roommate standing there at mile 25.
I already want to do it again next year.
On to the next one,
Chris
P.S. One of the things I love most about The Founders Club is being surrounded by people who genuinely want to see each other succeed. If you're a founder doing seven figures in annual revenue and looking for that kind of community, hit reply. I'd love to hear what you're building and see if The Founders Club might be a good fit.
