2026 Newport Marathon

There’s something special about running a marathon in the fall, especially in New England. The scenery, the crisp air, the challenge of the course, and the opportunity to spend some time reflecting on life all make for a memorable experience. The Newport Marathon in Rhode Island delivered on all of those fronts, although the wind and hills made sure I earned every mile. With an official finish time of 3:50:14, Newport also marked state number 10 in my quest to run a marathon in all 50 United States. This was a marathon that gave me plenty to think about beyond the finish line. Between recovering from an injury, balancing a growing list of responsibilities at home and work, and reconsidering some of my long-term running goals, I came away with more than another state checked off my list.

The Night Before

My trip to Rhode Island got off to an interesting start. The flight from D.C. was a quick 48 minutes, but finding the rental car lot at the airport was another story. I followed what seemed like an endless series of red and white signs, convinced I was headed toward the rental shuttle, only to find myself walking in circles through one of those airport skyways. At one point, I actually started running. Hey, why not get in a little marathon warmup? After finally getting my rental car, I hit the road toward Newport. The drive down I-95 reminded me of summers spent visiting Cape Cod, and the New England scenery was beautiful. Newport itself had a similar coastal charm, with historic architecture, ocean views, and some enormous houses.

Packet pickup was a little hectic, but I got my bib and headed back to my hotel in Providence, about 45 minutes away. Unfortunately, my reservation for a non-smoking room somehow turned into a smoking room. With hotels completely booked for both Columbus Day weekend and marathon weekend, I didn't have many options. I reluctantly accepted my accommodations and got settled in. It wasn't exactly the ideal pre-race setup, but I was grateful for some quiet time away from the busyness of home. Life has been full lately, so a little solitude was welcome. I spent the evening getting my race gear ready, building a new marathon playlist on Spotify, and relaxing with some Ted Lasso. I also spent time listening to Forrest Frank, whose music I'd been enjoying during my travels. My new boss had also sent me a tribute video for Bride while I was sitting at the airport in D.C. We'd just been talking about the band the previous weekend when we connected on a more personal level at a MATW pro wrestling event, so it was a thoughtful gesture, and a cool way to continue that conversation from afar. I added some Bride to my playlist, along with a mix of old favorites, and looked forward to putting it all to use.

I was especially grateful that I remembered to email my pastor before leaving town. He was running the Army Ten-Miler the same morning I would be running Newport. Inspired by his son, he'd started training earlier in the summer, and I'd been able to share a few training tips and encouragement along the way. It was exciting to think that we'd both be out there running around the same time, honoring the Lord in our own way.

Race Morning

Race morning started early. I was up at 4:07 a.m., just before my alarm, and got to work taping and lubricating the usual trouble spots. As I taped my left foot, I thought about Dr. Naeher, my physical therapist, who showed me how to tape my foot properly this past spring while I was rehabbing. I wondered how she'd fare at the Chicago Marathon today.

The drive from Providence to Newport took about 40 minutes and took me across two large bridges. Seeing the Claiborne Pell Newport Bridge illuminated against the predawn sky was a pretty incredible way to start the morning. I put on an episode of Marathon Training Academy (MTA), one of my favorite running podcasts, featuring an interview with Careth Arnold about faith and endurance. It was the perfect companion for the drive. When I arrived, I sat in the parking lot waiting for the race shuttles to arrive and listened to the final part of the episode, looking out over the beach in the darkness as the first hints of sunrise began to show over the water. It was beautiful and serene, and a wonderful way to settle my mind before the race. One thought from the conversation stuck with me: control what you can control, including your training, and leave the rest to God. That's a good reminder for running and life in general. I can put in the miles, do the strength work, prepare my gear, and make smart decisions. But I can't control the weather, every twist in the course, or exactly how my body will respond on race day. As the sky slowly brightened, I spent some time thanking God and praying for His favor. Thanks to MTA for consistently putting out thoughtful conversations like this one, and for giving me something meaningful to listen to in those early-morning hours before a race.

Before the race, I also met a couple who were running a marathon together for the first time and a woman who had completed 68 marathons across 49 states since 2020. That's an impressive accomplishment! She shared a few favorite races and even some lesser-known events, including a marathon in Kansas with a $5 entry fee. I love meeting other runners and hearing their stories. The marathon community is full of people with wildly different backgrounds and motivations, but we all share a willingness to embrace a challenge that most people would never voluntarily undertake.

The Race

And then it was time to run. I went out fast, as I tend to do, despite having just advised two first-time marathoners not to make that exact mistake. Apparently, I'm better at giving advice than following it! I was feeling great, my new playlist was firing on all cylinders, and the early miles flew by. I ran the first 5K in 23:57, reached 10K in 48:34, and crossed the halfway point in 1:43:49. I was enjoying myself and feeling strong.

The course was absolutely beautiful. There were American flags everywhere, massive coastal homes, sweeping water views, and plenty of opportunities to appreciate Newport's unique character. Running along the coast with the ocean air in my face was exhilarating. One of the highlights was running past the famous Cliff Walk, where dramatic Atlantic Ocean views meet the grounds of Newport's magnificent Gilded Age mansions including the Breakers. I would later learn that it is often described as one of the most expensive residential estates in the country, with some estimates putting its value around $500 million! I also loved passing through the state and local parks, particularly Brenton Point State Park. Of course, there was a catch.

The hills.

The wind.

And more hills.

The course's rolling terrain became increasingly challenging as the miles accumulated. By mile eight, I'd already developed a strong dislike for one particular hill. I remember muttering a few choice words under my breath before charging up it anyway. At the top I paused briefly to pet a German Shepherd named Rocky, whose owner's sign promised extra power to anyone who stopped to give him some love. I was happy to oblige. If a little dog-powered encouragement was available, I wasn't about to pass it up! Somewhere around the halfway point, I saw a runner break off the course to greet his family. His two little blonde girls, neither of whom looked older than five, were absolutely thrilled to see him. It was a sweet moment, but it also made me miss Abby terribly. She's my precious little miracle, and being away from her for the weekend was a reminder of how much my priorities have changed over the years. I still love running and chasing big goals, but the things that matter most to me aren't found at the finish line of a marathon.

At mile 18, another hill reminded me that Newport wasn't going to give me an easy ride to the finish. The scenery continued to impress me, but the wind also made things rather miserable in places. The combination of the hills and the weather made this a much tougher marathon than I'd hoped. Still, my new playlist helped tremendously. I put together an eclectic mix spanning roughly 25 years of my life, including old favorites from Guns N' Roses, Eminem, Rage Against the Machine, and The Offspring, along with classics from Tom Petty. I also mixed in inspirational Christian music including plenty of Forrest Frank, plus a few songs from Bride. It was a fun combination of nostalgia, motivation, and worship. Some songs brought back memories of high school, while others helped me focus on the present.

And then there was the hill at mile 24. The 3:45 pacer had warned us about it at the start, so at least I knew it was coming. That didn't make it any more enjoyable! By then, I was cramping badly and ready to be done. But the only way out is through!

The Finish

Nutrition-wise, things went pretty well. The race provided caffeinated salted caramel GU gels, which I enjoyed, and I alternated those with my usual Hammer gels and SaltStick FastChews. I finished feeling relatively strong, at least considering how challenging the course had become. I also continued a race-day ritual that's becoming one of my favorites: reciting Psalm 23 at mile 23. At that point I was hurting, my legs were cramping, and I needed something to focus on other than the discomfort, so the timing was perfect. Psalm 23 is a beautiful reminder of God's presence and care, even when we're walking through difficult places. In a marathon, those difficult places can be literal hills and miles of aching legs. In life, they can be seasons of uncertainty, stress, or simply having more responsibilities than time. Either way, I find comfort in remembering that I don't have to navigate those challenges alone.

For the final 1.2 miles, I put the focus on the people around me. I soaked up the energy of the other runners and the crowd, pushed through the cramps, and made my way to the finish. My left foot held up, too! That's worth mentioning because the same foot gave me posterior tibial tendinitis after the Miami Marathon in January. The injury put me on the sidelines for a while as I worked through physical therapy and rehab. Thankfully, I avoided a tear or rupture, but the recovery process was frustrating. This time around, I used shoe inserts and KT tape, following the instructions my physical therapist had given me in the spring. The foot was painful at times, but it held up well enough to get me through the race.

My official finish time was 3:50:14. It was not my personal best, but I finished 22 minutes faster than I did in Miami in January, making this my best marathon of the year. After the injury, the rehab, and the uncertainty about how my foot would respond, I'll gladly take that result. And with Newport, I've now completed marathons in 10 of the 50 states. Ten down, 40 to go!

Reflecting on my Goals

One of the biggest things I took away from this marathon wasn't a time or a medal. It was a growing realization that I need to think carefully about where I want my running journey to go from here. I've had two major running goals for a while now. The first is to run a marathon in all 50 states. The second is to qualify for and eventually run the Western States 100-Mile Endurance Run, one of the most prestigious ultramarathons in the world. I've completed multiple 100-mile races, and the ultrarunning community has given me some incredible experiences. The Western States goal is something I've wanted to pursue for a while, with the C&O Canal 100-Miler in the spring serving as a potential qualifying race.  But Newport made me question whether I should keep that goal front and center right now. I'm also considering running the Stone Mill 50-Miler next month as a way to evaluate my current fitness and see whether I'm still ready to commit to the C&O Canal 100. After the hills, wind, and cramping in Newport, though, the thought of running another step was hard to stomach! And it's not just about physical fitness. Stone Mill would take me away from my family for an entire day. With a new job to settle into, Abby adjusting to school, our renovation finally complete, and other important family matters underway, I need to be honest with myself about how much I can take on. Those are all wonderful things, but they require time, attention, and energy. I don't want to sacrifice the things that matter most in pursuit of another running milestone. For a while, I'd considered setting an aggressive deadline for finishing my 50-state marathon goal, perhaps by age 50 or 55. Now I'm leaning toward a more sustainable approach: averaging two marathons per year and finishing the goal around the time I retire. That would give me room to breathe, enjoy the journey, and potentially involve my family in the experience. I'd love to run a marathon with Abby someday. She's still young, but the idea of sharing this passion with her as she grows up is exciting. I don't want to pursue my goals so aggressively that I miss opportunities to make running a family experience.

I also have another running ambition: qualifying for the Boston Marathon. My current marathon times are nowhere near the qualifying standard I need. Newport was about 45 minutes off my Boston qualifying target, and even my personal best was about 25 minutes away. If I want to close that gap, I'll need to make some changes to my training and focus more deliberately on speed. Training for a 100-miler and training for a fast marathon are two very different animals. I've spent a lot of time building endurance, but getting faster over 26.2 miles will require a different approach. Perhaps it's time to hire a marathon coach.

I'm not ready to make any final decisions about Stone Mill or Western States. It's never wise to make major decisions immediately after a marathon, when your legs hurt and your body is exhausted and your emotions are everywhere. I'll take some time to recover, think, and pray about what makes the most sense. There's no shame in adjusting a goal or changing the timeline.  The point isn't to accomplish everything as quickly as possible. It's to pursue worthwhile goals in a way that honors God and allows me to be present for the people He's entrusted to me.

Final Thoughts

Newport was a memorable marathon. The scenery was spectacular, the hills were relentless, and the wind was powerful. I came away grateful for the opportunity to run another marathon, recover from an injury, and reflect on what running means to me in this season of life. I also came away reminded that gratitude and perspective matter. Forrest Frank's song "OKAY!" captured something I had been feeling throughout the weekend. What moved me wasn't just its reminder to trust God; it was how honestly it described the everyday overload that can make that trust difficult. The parts about staying up late scrolling on a phone, feeling stressed and overstimulated, and trying to juggle work calls while kids are making a mess hit especially close to home. The image of being expected to be a dinosaur while also handling other business is funny, but it's painfully familiar to anyone trying to be present for their children while keeping up with adult responsibilities. I love this beautiful, chaotic season of life with Abby, but I also know how easy it is to get caught up in errands, bills, work, and constant demands, and then reach for my phone when what I really need is to slow down and turn to God. The song's reminder to be grateful simply to wake up today and trust that God has good plans gave me a needed dose of perspective. It also connected with the message I'd heard that morning on the Marathon Training Academy podcast. Careth Arnold's discussion of faith and endurance brought me back to Hebrews 12:1–2, a passage that captures what I want my running, and my life, to be about:

I don't have every detail of my running future figured out. I still want to run all 50 states. I'd love to qualify for Boston. And Western States remains a dream. But I also want to be a good husband, a present father, and someone who uses his experiences to encourage others. Those goals don't have to compete with one another, but they do require wisdom about how I prioritize my time. For now, I'm going to enjoy the fact that I finished another marathon, that my foot held up, and that I was able to experience such a beautiful part of the country. I'll recover, spend time with my family, and trust God to help me figure out the next steps. After all, the goal isn't simply to run farther or faster. It's to run the race set before me with endurance, keeping my eyes on Jesus.

And that's a race worth running with all my heart.