Running a marathon below three hours is a major milestone in recreational running, often referred to as sub-3. For the past four months, I was fixated on breaking that heralded barrier. Whenever I met someone new, it would inevitably come up early in conversation. I’d even invent ridiculous hypotheticals, saying I’d rather run sub-3 than get a billion dollars.

So where did this intensity come from?

To answer that, I have to go back to why I started running. Around a year and a half ago, my lease in New York ended. I was taking a shot at the entrepreneurial path, and things weren’t going particularly well. I moved back in with my parents in Boston to save money and figure things out. I felt like I wasn’t making progress in anything. I needed something that gave me a sense of forward movement again, and at the time, running filled that void.

What started as a goal to run a 6-minute mile turned into running three half-marathons within a year.

Running became the one thing where I wasn’t chasing something external. In high school, I worked for grades to get into the best colleges. In college, I worked to land a job. In my career, I grinded for promotions and more money. Even going to the gym was tied to looking better physically. There was always a defined reason behind what I pursued.

Running was different. I was already fit, so I didn’t need it for health. I wasn’t a professional, so there was no status or recognition tied to it. In a sense, I was running for nothing. But somehow, I found meaning in something that seemed meaningless on the surface.

After my third half-marathon, I decided to take a shot at the full, with the ambitious goal of running sub-3 on my first attempt, with less than a year and a half of total training. I signed up for the Jersey City Marathon.

The training block wasn’t smooth. There was nagging knee soreness. I dropped a laptop on my big toe and bruised it. The NYC winter was relentless. And then, with six weeks to go, I felt pain in my right foot and aggravated my peroneal tendon. I had to go to physical therapy and stop running for a week.

At that point, I knew my shot at sub-3 was over. I couldn’t build back the mileage and speed required in time.

For the first time since I started running, I hit a mental low. My mood was off, and something felt different. Then I realized what had happened. In the pursuit of sub-3, I had lost track of the reason I started running in the first place. I didn’t start running to achieve a specific number. I started running for the internal satisfaction of doing something hard.

But somewhere along the way, my ego got involved. The same emotions I’d felt in other areas of life started to creep back in, the need to hit a milestone, to prove something, to feel like I was on track.

So, going into race day this past weekend, the goal had already changed. It was no longer about chasing sub-3. It was about showing up and putting my best effort forward.

I ran 3:04:20.

Not the number I had spent months fixating on, but given everything leading up to it, something I’m proud of.

If everything had gone to plan, it wouldn’t be my journey. It would’ve been someone else’s.

The setbacks, the injury, the 3:04:20, that’s what makes it mine.

Nothing meaningful follows a perfect path. That’s what makes it yours. 

Keep taking the next step.