I was meeting friends for dinner at This Bowl in early June when a crazy idea was brought up.
After just taking a meeting at a popular downtown hotel about potentially throwing an event for newsletter readers, I was wary if people would actually show up.
So as I am eating my Miso Salmon Bowl, I’m tossing out ideas for smaller events I could test to see if I could get people to come meet in person.
In the same conversation I had mentioned I was leaving Manhattan and moving to Williamsburg. I love running in Manhattan— its scenic, there’s a clean grid, and plenty of open spaces like Central Park or the West Side Highway where you can run uninterrupted. I wanted to find a way to commemorate moving with some kind of special run.
Suddenly, a friend of a friend threw out an insane idea: run the 32 mile perimeter on Manhattan, and host a run club leading up to race day.
I literally canceled my plans, went home, and designed a flyer. I set a date to run the perimeter two months out, and I dove feet first into training for what would be the longest run of my life.
This was the start of The Manhattan Project.
Step 1: Train
At the start of The Manhattan Project, I was running maybe 2x a week for 3-5 miles.
While this is more than the average person, it fell significantly short of how much I needed to run in order to not embarrass myself on race day.
So I set a goal on Strava to run 25 miles a week. I don’t think I honestly ever reached that goal once.
But I did start running progressively farther, upping the mileage on my runs consistently.
The farthest I had ever run previously was a 13.1 mile half marathon two years ago, which did not go super well, but I finished.
New York is brutally hot in the Summer, which posed another challenge. During this training phase, I’d find myself sweating profusely in the muggy 95°F heat down the West Side Highway down to Battery Park.
I realized running long distance in this intense heat was a physical challenge that could be solved by a mental framework. Starting a run usually feels good, but there comes a stretch after a few miles where the voices in your head will not step telling you to quit.
Shutting those down, finding focus, and controlling your breathing helped me breakthrough the barrier of those hard miles and get to the other side: the runner’s high— a state where your brain is being flooded with endorphins and you are gliding across Canal St. with a clear head and wind in your sails.
With all of this training came a renewed focus on recovery. My legs were constantly in pain and I was tired.
I fixed this mostly through a Nike foam roller, better eating habits (actually eating breakfast and lunch) and performance mixes like Harlo: which has creatine, electrolytes, and collagen.
I got dialed in on my runs in a way I’ve never been in my whole life. Training was fun, and I started to find new routes (Williamsburg to the Upper East Side) that kept it exciting. But as the date of my longest run drew near, I realized that I had yet to clock a single run above 20 miles.
And all of a sudden it was the day before and I realized I still had a lot of prep work.
I asked Zach Pogrob, a obsessed runner who has completed the perimeter on Manhattan, what shoes I should wear. He told me the On Cloud Eclipse was great.
So I went to REI with my friend Sammy, got the shoes, a belt pouch to keep my shit in, a phone charger, and some Clif energy chews. I ate two massive slices of pizza from Upside, and went to sleep.
Step 2: Start
Its 5:30am on Saturday August 17th and I am up putting on shoes I bought 8 hours prior.
I pack my little bag, drink some pre-workout that makes my skin itch, and get on the train.
I head down to Battery Park, the Southern tip of Manhattan, and stretch.
There’s no way I am prepared for this. But my delusion propels me forward.
I think starting something, anything in life, is usually the hardest part. People have ambitions to do crazy runs, start businesses, or to ask someone hot out on a date, but often let their own insecurities or fear of failure stop them from doing it.
I used to be this way for a lot of my life. But as I get older, I become less jaded and more delusional that I actually can do anything if I just try— and you can too.
And all the prep work I did all Summer was meaningless unless I just went down there are started.
So with blind confidence, I started trotting along the Southeastern corner of Manhattan at a slow pace.
I am feeling incredible— passing Cipriani, the Brooklyn Bridge, and I start to navigate up the East side, which noticeably does not have a proper running path. So you’ve got to cut in a bit and run up 1st Ave, a place where I’ve run up many times this Summer.
I make it past my apartment uptown, and into parts of Manhattan I’ve never been. This is where things start get weird.
Step 3: Struggle
I’m probably 13 miles in and I’m on 155th street.
I’ve never been this far North in Manhattan and I’ve literally no clue where I am headed.
My legs are starting to get heavy, I’m thirsty, my fucking nipples are chaffing, and my head is light.
I stopped to walk up this incredibly hilly street and look at the map. My jaw drops with how much more I have to run to hit the Northern tip of Manhattan: Inwood.
Why did I never consider just how long Manhattan is?
At this point, I’m stopping every mile or two to get a water bottle from a bodega and slam it.
I had eaten all my energy chews, which were not doing much to elevate my falling blood sugar.
At this point, I’m walking and realizing I was maybe in over my own head. There’s no way I can finish.
I start thinking about how fucking embarrassing it’s going to be that I failed. I’ve made videos and newsletters about running this insane distance: but I was obviously not up to the challenge. The more I think about how there’s no way I could cope with that defeat, the more I realize I have to just suffer through this pain.
Step 4: Gas
I’m at Inwood Hill Park now. The sun is shining and people are walking their dogs, enjoying their Saturday mornings.
I’m on a park bench drenched in sweat, barely able to keep my head up, and realizing I really fucked up this time. The juxtaposition is glaring.
Where I’m at could not be more different than where I started. I peek through the lush trees and see where the Hudson River carves between New York and New Jersey. It honestly reminds me a lot of where I grew up near the Ohio river.
Its hard to believe this is still Manhattan, I feel so far from home.
Along my pathetic jaunt up here, I picked up two donuts from a gas station, after realizing if I didn’t eat some carbs I was going to pass out.
I want to call a friend for consolation, but my phone is on Do Not Disturb and I don’t want to admit defeat.
Instead, I go on YouTube searching for some kind of motivation— the endless Drake songs I listened to on the way up here weren’t doing it for me anymore— and I stumble upon this typically cringey edit of Steve Harvey motivational quotes.
“You will fail in your comfort zone, success is not a comfortable procedure”
and it dawns on me that this place I’m in— maybe the worst I’ve ever felt in my entire life— is the transition period between failure and success.
I needed to push through.
Step 5: Finish
Donuts in my stomach, Freaks of Nature performance SPF on my body, and a phone quickly dying… I sprint up the hills of Inwood and begin my descent down the West side of Manhattan.
There is a coherent path down the entirety of the West side, so I don’t need to worry about getting lost.
And I realize if I just run straight, turn my brain off, I can finish this.
The shape of the skyline begins to come into focus through the smog and I realize I am actually getting close.
At this distance, your legs hurt with nearly every step. Then your arms, your back, and literally every square inch of your body is in pain.
Doesn’t matter— with every step I’m closer to where I started.
I’m finally back in civilization and the crowds on the West Side highway become welcome obstacles, a sign I’m not that far.
As the World Trade Center begins to take up my vision, I give it all I’ve got and hustle into FiDi.
Quickly, I’m passing the sea of scammers selling fake tickets to see the Statue of Liberty and back in Battery Park.
FINISHED!!!
With a sigh of relief and unprocessed emotions, I go and grab a beer, try to eat, then passed out the entire day.
The Manhattan Project was a success… just not a clean one.
Aftermath
In the days since running the perimeter of Manhattan, I’ve had a few realizations—
Being delusional is the only way to succeed at anything.
When you want to quit most is often when you need to push through. You’d surprise yourself with how far you can push it.
I never want to fucking run that far again.
I love running. Its one of my favorite activities in the world. It clears your head, and a byproduct of that is that you’re healthy and look decent.
But contorting this hobby into some progressively crazier game of distance is not something I’m interested in continuing.
Running the perimeter of Manhattan is hard and it hurts so much. I’m still kind of sore 5 days later.
I realized that in life you can love things but not try to be the best at them. So going forward I’m going to continue running, but don’t need to push the envelope anytime in the near future.
I’m moving to Williamsburg in 48 hours. And now I can look at Manhattan from my new rooftop with fondness and know I ran around all of it that one time.
Want to run together? Send me an email.
Jake Bell is a content marketing, creative strategist, designer, and writer based in NYC. He specializes in brand building, content strategy, creative direction, business development, and making things cool.
Want to chat? Email me: jake@jb.studio
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