April 27, 2026

Ep 7: 26.2 - The LA Marathon, a Bum Knee, and Why I'm Running It Again at 50+

Ep 7: 26.2 - The LA Marathon, a Bum Knee, and Why I'm Running It Again at 50+
Ep 7: 26.2 - The LA Marathon, a Bum Knee, and Why I'm Running It Again at 50+
I Took the Long Way
Ep 7: 26.2 - The LA Marathon, a Bum Knee, and Why I'm Running It Again at 50+
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I am not built like a runner. Skinny doesn't mean fit -- ask the Army PT test I failed at nineteen in front of everyone at boot camp. That failure filed itself somewhere in the back of my brain and did not let go. What followed was years of proving something to myself -- running twice a day in the Arizona heat during interrogation training, still smoking half a pack of cigarettes a day, somehow getting faster anyway. I broke twelve minutes on that two-mile run and immediately threw up at the finish line. It felt incredible. But marathons didn't happen until my 40s. My 20s and 30s were a different chapter entirely -- one that involved losing my license twice and riding a bike everywhere in LA because that was the consequence. I didn't understand marathoners back then. I thought they were running from something. I was wrong. In March 2018, I stood at Dodger Stadium with twenty thousand other people and ran 26.2 miles to Santa Monica. I saw an older man with thirty LA Marathon finish dates printed on the back of his t-shirt and thought -- that's the most boss thing I've ever seen in a parking lot. I trained alone, at night, through the streets of West LA. I almost got hit by cars more times than I can count. And then mile 20 happened. I'd been holding onto it for miles -- knowing they'd be there. My wife and daughter, on the sidewalk near our old street, holding a sign they made together. Cheering for their husband. Their dad. A middle-aged guy running 26.2 miles for no practical reason. I was wearing sunglasses. I am so glad I was wearing sunglasses. I ran five marathons total -- four LA, one San Francisco on a knee that was already talking to me. The knee eventually won. Four years passed. A lot happened in those four years: faith, sobriety, a new life slowly coming into focus. Now I'm lacing back up. March 2027. LA Marathon. I'll be 52 by race day. And when I cross that finish line -- they'll be there on the sidewalk. I already know it.