After competing in his first marathon at the age of 40, an award-motivated New York City transplant goes on to finish all six of the World Marathon Majors in this memoir.
One fall Sunday in 2015, art collector Moore got out of bed in his freshly painted Midtown Manhattan apartment and walked to Columbus Circle, where a section of the New York City Marathon was rushing by. The faces of the runners and his vision of the medals for which they were competing inspired him to take part in the 26-mile race himself the following year, despite never having run farther than a five-kilometer race before. For Moore, the prestigious event was another opportunity to prove his worth—part of a lifelong pursuit that began when he was a Detroit middle-schooler competing in the Academic Games League. Moore uses an aphoristic tone to rehash a popular narrative in the world of American sports, in which a kid who grows up feeling like an underdog strives to prove himself to those who doubt his chances. Moore periodically and compellingly touches on his experience as a Black man participating in a predominantly white space: “I felt that I would embody the Black man running marathons to whomever was watching. Everyone who sees me knows I am Black. What I was doing was the ultimate revocation of the veil of elitism.” However, he spends more time reminding readers of his reverence for Wall Street and name-dropping luxury sportswear brands. Confusingly, he describes the United States as a “virtually classless” nation, while also acknowledging the existence of a middle and upper class. Moore frequently mentions people he admires throughout the text, including Charles Bukowski, Bret Easton Ellis, and Michael Jordan, the last of whom he compares himself to on more than one occasion.
An unevenly executed story of one man’s overwhelming desire to win.