Running News Daily

If you want a useful guide for running in Central Park this isn’t that. There is plenty of concise information available online and all of it will do a far better job telling you exactly how to go for a run in New York City’s favorite 840 acre backyard.

If you want to know about beginning a long term relationship with New York City and running in Central Park, this is my story.

My first run in the park was on December 29, 1978. I was in college on the GI Bill and had taken my slightly unreliable but fun-to-drive MGB from Maine to Florida over Christmas break.

I didn’t want to think about the trip back north. Hitchhiking was still an option in those days if my car gave out but it surely was not what I wanted.

I was already a veteran of two marathons and was ramping up my mileage for the Boston Marathon the following April. I had a glorious couple of weeks of running in the technicolor light and warmth of south Florida and while there even managed to meet Frank Shorter.

I ran twice a day including a couple of two hour runs, went to empty beaches to bask in sunny 60 degree days while bundled up locals looked on, amused and mystified.

All in all it was a great time, went quickly and too soon I was starting the long drive back to Maine.

A couple of uneventful days on the road brought me back to the NJ turnpike two days before New Year Eve. In the fading light of a cold, clear winter afternoon I pulled into a service plaza for gas.

My plan was to continue driving on through the night for the last 500 plus miles vs. spending money I didn’t have for a roadside motel room. A “you are here” map in the foyer of the restroom surprised me with my close proximity to NYC.

The next thing I remember is rummaging through the stuff in my car for an address book with the phone number of a longtime summer friend from Maine who spent the balance of his life on upper west side of New York.

I searched between the seats for change to make a call on a pay phone and was fortunate that my friend even answered. He graciously said I could crash for the night.

I’d never even been into NYC proper and the prospects for the evening were exciting if not a little intimidating.

I finally made it safely down from the high bridge over the Hudson River into the city and found a place to park near Grant’s Tomb on Riverside Drive, a few blocks west of my friend’s apartment not far from Columbia University.

I made the wise choice to schlep all of my stuff to the apartment for fear that the patched convertible top and dodgy locks of my car wouldn’t deter anyone in 1970s NYC, from breaking in looking for anything of value.

I said a quick hello and thank you to my friend on arrival but needed a run before I could eat or do anything else. He understood and gave me directions to Central Park and showed me how to buzz myself back into his high rise building.

Running down Broadway entailed dodging and weaving along hopelessly crowded evening sidewalks, scents from all manner of ethnic food wafting as I made my way through the 20 red lights, one per block, for a mile.

Eventually a left turn, to the east for a few more blocks to enter the park around 100th St at Central Park West.

The park was dark and cold, full of energy but it oddly felt peaceful too. The air was filled with different smells; diesel bus fumes, horse manure, musty fallen leaves, street pretzels, roasted nuts and yes, adrenaline, some of it mine.

Traffic hadn’t been banned from the park drives in the evening yet so it was full of yellow cabs and giant 70s era sedans moving slowly in heavy evening traffic.

I looked around for a landmark, something to remember so I could find my way back out of the park onto the same street in hopes of finding my way back to my friend’s place through what felt like barely contained chaos on the city streets.

I took note of a broken, graffiti covered park bench in this far less than gentrified version of the city. It seemed memorable enough and I guess it was.

Inside the park there was a lane for running. Parallel were two traffic lanes around what I’d been told was a six mile loop circling the park just inside the perimeter.

In spite of the hummock and pot-hole filled streets, particularly in the nearly bankrupt version of the city at the time, I recall the park drives being remarkably smooth pavement.

I turned right, running downtown on the west side.  The rolling hills also seemed more downhill than up too, something I confirmed in years and miles to come.

At first it was a gentle contained pace, working out the stiffness in my legs and back after a day long drive from North Carolina on a bad suspension and the hard seats in my car.

The grade of the rolling hills and gently winding turns in the park seemed worn-in to the landscape. It felt perfect for running, almost carved into the city like the equivalent of glacial wear but from the mass of some number of the eight million city residents using the park day after day.

Making my way down the west side for a mile offered peeks through the leafless trees and scenic overlooks of the lights and architecture of pre war apartment buildings forming what appeared to be a tall, impenetrable wall along the avenue fronting the park.

Periodically there were glimpses further downtown to the iconic skyscrapers in midtown. The Empire State Building and Chrysler Building most familiar amongst a forest of others that seemed just as big if not as well known.

I simply didn’t want to stop running, the pull was almost magnetic, my tempo gradually increasing around the next corner or over the next hill, all just to see what was ahead.

It was all a bit like a party that you didn’t want to leave for fear of missing something good that might happen.

Just before reaching a first opportunity to choose between veering left from the main park drive or continuing straight toward the high rises of midtown; I went by what, in a few years, would be renamed Strawberry Fields.  It was in honor of John Lennon; murdered not far away at the entrance to his building, the Dakota, which overlooks the park here.

The park is a perfect rectangle, slightly off of an exact north to south axis extending from 110th St to 59th St., 2.5 miles on each side and slightly over .75 mile between 5th Avenue on the east side and Central Park West on the other.

Years later I learned that the cutoff (or shortcut) I had seen and gone by at 72nd St and another I hadn’t reached yet at 102nd St made for a seemingly endless variety of options for creating and running multiples of loops of 2, 4, 5 miles and of course the full 6 mile circuit.

The New York Road Runners used the counterclockwise 6+ miles of the full park four times plus the slightly less than two mile loop from the bottom of the park to 72nd St for the 26 miles 385 yards for the 55 finishers of first New York Marathon in 1970.

The marathon still uses the park, but only about half of it for part of the final three miles of the race.

I read somewhere that 20,000 people run in Central Park on an average day. There are days and seasons during the year when that number seems high but other days and times during the year when it is certainly low. I guess that’s what they mean by average.

There are over 30 races in Central Park every year. Most hosted by the New York Road Runners Club and a few by other organizations.

Nearly all have thousands of participants, racing distances ranging from a 1 mile kids race to a 60k ultra marathon. Some with top invited international and American stars, some simply very large competitive local races. Every one a variation in the options for running loops in the park.

I continued running through the park, next past a big open meadow on the left, learning later that it was the 15 acre Sheep’s Meadow.

It has been a historic spot for protests over the past 100 years, up to 30,000 sunbathers on a nice day and 150,000 for a Barbra Streisand concert in the 1960s and yes sheep, from the 1860s until the 1930s.

Adjacent to the finish line of the marathon at Tavern on the Green the meadow also was a post race staging area for a few years.

22 months after my first run in the park I was back here, finishing my first marathon in New York. My last run up the hill to that familiar finish line was 32 years later.

The buildings along the southern edge of the park loom up just a few hundred yards away from the marathon finish. Columbus Circle marks one of the four corners of the park here and is a block from where I lived for 10 years when I finally moved to the city.

Almost every day was a 15 minute walk home from work at MoMA for me, dogs out for a walk and then into the park for an evening run. Sometimes clockwise, up the westside, the opposite direction of my first run.

Often I ran the same counterclockwise direction I was running that night. Across the bottom of the park to the east side, the legendary Plaza Hotel, the Central Park Zoo and the Wollman Skating rink anchoring the corner on that side.

I saw the familiar sign for the Essex House hotel along the way on my first run in the park that night and invariably still take a glance up at it on every run 40 years later.

Turning back north on the east side of the park led me up a gentle hill through dramatic exposed rock outcroppings of Manhattan’s bedrock schist. Apparently something which allowed New York to more easily build foundations for it’s famous skyscrapers over the last century.

I ran past playgrounds, the 100 year old children’s carousel and about a mile beyond Columbus Circle, to the other end of the 72nd St cutoff.

In years ahead it became a familiar corner. Nearby is the start and finish for the New Years Eve 4 mile race in the park, starting at the stroke of midnight with fireworks. 

The corner is also near the start of one of the bigger hills in the park, this one known among local runners as “cat hill”. Midway up the 1/4 mile climb is a sculpture of a life sized and menacing mountain lion, seemingly ready to pounce from a natural stone overhang directly over the runner’s lane.

It was too dark to see the cat that night but is familiar enough now. Cat hill is a popular place for training for some of the dozens of running clubs that meet up and use the park for weekly group training sessions.

A couple of minutes more led me past what I didn’t know at the time was the back of the massive Metropolitan Museum of Art. Around it and closer to 5th Avenue for another half mile brought me near a building I did recognize, Frank Lloyd Wright’s landmark cylindrical Guggenheim Museum.

The nearby entrance to the park would become familiar later as the place where the marathon enters the park for the last 2.5 miles of the race headed back in the direction from which I’d just come.

The summer after my first NY marathon and having entering my 2nd, there was a fundraising appeal in my race confirmation. The NYRR was trying to raise money to purchase a six story Beaux Arts townhouse just opposite the Guggenheim for one million dollars.

They were successful and for 36 years it served as headquarters, clubhouse and place to pick up bibs for their many races. It was listed for sale this past year for 25 million dollars as they apparently need something fancier and/or bigger.

Nearby is a statue of the late, charismatic leader of the NYRR, Fred Lebow. His vision arguably responsible for the explosive growth of urban marathons around the world for decades. His likeness stands looking at a stopwatch, appearing to be silently calling out time splits to runners just inside the park.

The entrance of the 1.5 mile long reservoir running path is there too, named for Jacquelin Kennedy Onassis, a nearby resident for decades, she was known to jog on the scenic cinder path and reportedly was even seen wearing long white formal evening dress gloves on cool days.

At the reservoir it felt like I had run between 5-6 miles, I knew it was six around the park but then maybe 10 minutes more to and from my friends place.

I was moving along briskly, feeling good but thinking I should get back but had reached the point where it made more sense to continue on vs. turning back. Maybe three miles to go.

Just 1/4 mile past the flat straight section along the reservoir the drive started down a hill and turned toward the center of the park from the perimeter. I felt a change. There were fewer street lights, less traffic and not as many people around. It all seemed a bit more ominous.

A half mile further brought me to the 2nd cutoff between the east side and the west. This one at 102nd St. It was very dark, narrow and almost foreboding.

In 1989 this section of the park, down the hill from the reservoir to the 102nd St cutoff became notorious as the site of a series of “wilding” gang assaults on a number of runners and pedestrians over one hour on a frightening night that April. It culminated in the vicious assault and rape of the “Central Park jogger” on the cutoff road I was passing.

Even 11 years prior to that night it felt dangerous. Today most runners and running clubs practice a buddy system when running at night in the park as a result of what happened in 1989.

There is a prominent police presence in this area and thankfully crime in the city and the park has declined precipitously too.

In all of my thousands of miles in the park over the years, many at night, I’ve never personally experienced a threat or even witnessed one and I’m grateful for that.

The almost kaleidoscopic park quickly changes again at the far north end. The park drive quickly snakes through a steep S shaped descent with high bluffs overhead on one side and an open high view of Harlem on the other; the Meer waters and the Conservatory Gardens in the foreground.

The far north end of the park remains the most natural with unspoiled ravines, dramatic rock faces, waterfalls and streams all tucked away.

On runs here I’ve seen families of raccoons crossing the road at night and hawks swoop down for unsuspecting squirrels during the day but nothing of the sort on this particular night.

Midway down the hill brought me past a large skating rink outfitted for youth hockey. I learned later that it does double duty as a community pool in the summer.

Now at the north edge of the park I could see into Harlem. I made the turn, running to the west. Just outside the park were dilapidated tire changing shops, gas stations, boarded up windows, burned out cars and a trash can with a makeshift bonfire offering warmth to a few men huddled around.

Continuing on, anticipating a turn to the south to complete my circuit of the park it quickly became evident that I was going to climb a good hill.

Runners in NY refer to this climb with some dread as THE Harlem Hill, it climbs about 150 ft in half a mile and then just as quickly drops down again. I wasn’t far beyond where it leveled out again and suddenly on my right, there it was!  

The familiar broken, graffiti covered bench that I’d decided to use as part of my trail of bread crumbs when I entered the park.

Not much had changed on the surface. Traffic had lessened somewhat as the evening rush was concluding. The smells were the same but had become permanently imprinted in my brain vs. something new to experience.

I slowed my pace for the few blocks back toward Broadway and a final right turn north for the last mile up toward Columbia.

After less than an hour on foot I felt like I understood New York to some extent....and I liked it. The prospects for the evening seemed exciting enough when I decided to spend the night but I had no idea.

Even before I finished the run one big thing had changed. I knew or at least hoped that I’d spend part of my life in the city. 

My wife, step daughter and I have been fortunate to have lived the last 21 years of our life together in New York and adjacent to Central Park, 10 years on one corner of the park and the last 11 years a few blocks from the far opposite corner. In part, all due to one unforgettable run around Central Park on a cold December night 40 years ago tonight.

(Larry Allen on Running is an exclusive My Best Runs Running News Daily feature.  Additionally Larry is doing the Run The World Challenge for the third time.) 

Most Olympic marathoners spend their youth focused on running. They join track clubs, compete in national championships, and pursue the sport from an early age.

Julia Mayer’s journey was very different.

Today, Mayer is Austria’s marathon record holder, a multiple national record holder on the roads, and an Olympian. Yet for much of her athletic life, running was not her primary sport.

For 16 years, she played soccer.

Then she discovered something that would change her life.

“I noticed that I was really fast in the fun runs and that it was really, really fun,” Mayer said when reflecting on her transition from soccer to distance running.

What began as curiosity quickly became a passion. She eventually made the bold decision to leave soccer behind and focus entirely on running. It was a move that surprised many people around her, but Mayer believed she had found her true athletic calling.

The decision proved to be the right one.

Within a few years, Mayer developed into one of Europe’s top marathon runners. Her steady improvement carried her from local races to the international stage, where she began rewriting Austria’s record books.

She now holds Austrian records in the marathon, half marathon, and road 10K. Her marathon best of 2:26:08 established her as the fastest female marathoner in Austrian history. Her performances in the half marathon and 10K have further cemented her place among the country’s all-time great distance runners.

Her rise culminated with qualification for the 2024 Olympic Games in Paris.

Competing in the Olympic marathon represented the realization of a dream. On one of the most challenging marathon courses ever used for the Olympics, Mayer ran courageously against the strongest field in the world and finished 55th in her Olympic debut.

Behind the scenes, success has come through extraordinary dedication. During marathon preparation, Mayer trains twice a day and covers approximately 200 kilometers, or 124 miles, each week. The workload demands discipline, patience, and a deep commitment to continuous improvement. 

What makes her story especially inspiring is not simply the records or the Olympic appearance.

It is the fact that she found her greatest talent later than many elite runners.

In a sport where athletes are often identified at a young age, Mayer’s journey serves as a reminder that potential does not always reveal itself early. Sometimes it takes years of experience, a willingness to try something new, and the courage to follow a different path. 

The former soccer player who once chased a ball across a field is now chasing history on the roads of Europe.

And according to those closest to her, her best performances may still be ahead.

For runners of every age and ability, Julia Mayer’s story delivers a powerful lesson: it is never too late to discover what you are capable of.

From soccer player to Olympian, her journey proves that remarkable achievements can begin when least expected.

Megan Keith produced the performance of her career in Oslo on Thursday night, shattering one of Scotland’s longest-standing distance running records and cementing her place among Britain’s greatest female 3000m runners.

The 24-year-old clocked a sensational 8:28.35 over 3000m, breaking the Scottish outdoor record that had stood for nearly four decades. In doing so, Keith eclipsed the previous mark of 8:29.02, set by Scottish legend Yvonne Murray back in 1988, ending a record reign that had lasted 38 years.

Keith’s breakthrough run was more than just a national record. The performance also propelled her to third on the UK outdoor all-time list, placing her behind only two of Britain’s most celebrated distance runners — Paula Radcliffe, who leads the rankings with 8:22.20, and Laura Weightman, whose 8:26.07 remains the second-fastest outdoor mark by a British woman.

The significance of Keith’s achievement is amplified by the calibre of athletes she now joins in the record books. For decades, Murray’s mark stood as one of Scottish athletics’ most untouchable records, surviving generations of elite competitors. Keith has now succeeded where many outstanding runners have fallen short, announcing herself as one of the leading distance talents in British athletics.

Her time also compares favourably with the best performances produced indoors. Olympic medallist Laura Muir ran 8:26.41 indoors in Karlsruhe in 2017, underlining just how exceptional Keith’s outdoor effort in Oslo truly was.

The run continues a remarkable rise for the Scottish star, whose progression over recent seasons has transformed her from a promising prospect into a genuine force on the international stage. Running with confidence and composure against elite competition, Keith demonstrated both the speed and endurance required to challenge the very best in Europe and beyond.

With the World Championship season gathering momentum, Keith’s record-breaking display sends a powerful message. Not only has she etched her name into Scottish athletics history, but she has also established herself as a serious contender in one of the sport’s most competitive events.

In Oslo, Megan Keith did far more than break a record. She ended a 38-year wait, climbed into the upper echelon of British distance running, and delivered a performance that may prove to be a defining moment in her career.

British middle-distance talent Phoebe Gill took another significant step forward in her return to top form, producing a determined victory over 800 metres at the Meeting de Marseille in France on Wednesday.

Competing in challenging, wind-affected conditions, the 19-year-old demonstrated both resilience and composure as she held off a late charge from Switzerland's Veronica Vancardo to secure the win in 2:00.81. Vancardo finished just three hundredths of a second behind in 2:00.84, underlining the fiercely contested nature of the race.

While the margin of victory was narrow, the result represented another encouraging milestone for Gill as she continues to rebuild momentum following her injury setback. The young Briton showed impressive race awareness and strength in the closing stages, maintaining her advantage despite the difficult conditions that made fast running a challenge throughout the evening.

The Marseille triumph adds to a growing body of evidence that Gill is steadily progressing toward her best form. Earlier in her comeback campaign, she clocked 2:01.50 for 800m in Bydgoszcz before demonstrating her versatility with a strong 4:05.53 performance over 1500 metres at the BMC Grand Prix meeting in Trafford.

Those performances have highlighted not only her improving fitness but also her ability to compete across multiple distances as she carefully builds her season. The Marseille victory now provides further confirmation that the European junior star is moving in the right direction.

Gill emerged as one of Britain's most exciting middle-distance prospects through a series of breakthrough performances as a teenager, earning widespread recognition for her fearless racing style and remarkable maturity. Injury temporarily interrupted that upward trajectory, but her recent results suggest she is steadily rediscovering the form that made her one of the sport's brightest young talents.

With each race, the signs of progress become increasingly evident. Winning in difficult conditions and under pressure from a quality field is often a stronger indicator than a fast time alone, and Gill's latest success demonstrated exactly those qualities.

As the summer season gathers pace, the Marseille victory offers another confidence boost for the British teenager, whose return continues to gain momentum. If her recent progression is any indication, Gill could soon find herself back among the leading names on the European middle-distance circuit. 

The NCAA Track and Field Championships delivered a moment few could have predicted as Ja’Kobe Tharp produced one of the most astonishing performances in the history of sprint hurdling, rewriting the record books in spectacular fashion.

Competing in the opening round of the men’s 110-meter hurdles, the Auburn star stunned the athletics world by clocking an incredible 12.75 seconds, becoming the first athlete ever to break the 12.80-second barrier. In doing so, he eclipsed the long-standing world record of 12.80 set by Aries Merritt in 2012, a mark that had stood as one of the sport’s most revered achievements for more than a decade.

What makes Tharp’s breakthrough even more remarkable is the scale of his improvement. Entering the championships, the defending NCAA and U.S. champion had recorded a season-best of 13.05 seconds. Yet under the brightest spotlight, he unleashed a performance that exceeded every expectation, slicing an extraordinary 0.26 seconds from his personal best in a race that instantly became one of the greatest ever run.

The achievement sent shockwaves throughout the track and field community. While Tharp arrived in Eugene as one of the leading contenders for the NCAA title, few envisioned a performance capable of redefining the limits of the event. Instead, the American hurdler delivered a race for the ages, combining flawless technique, explosive speed, and impeccable rhythm from the first hurdle to the finish line.

The historic run not only secured his place in athletics history but also transformed the outlook of the championship. With the world record now in his possession, Tharp advances to the final as the overwhelming favorite, carrying momentum that could make an already unforgettable weekend even more extraordinary.

For years, the 12.80 barrier appeared untouchable. On a stunning day at the NCAA Championships, Ja’Kobe Tharp proved otherwise, producing the kind of performance that reminds fans why sport remains so unpredictable. In a matter of seconds, he turned a routine qualifying round into a landmark moment that will be remembered for generations.

The world record no one saw coming is now a reality—and Ja’Kobe Tharp is the man who changed history.

A new chapter in middle-distance running may have begun in Oslo after American teenager Cooper Lutkenhaus produced one of the most remarkable performances of the season, narrowly defeating reigning Olympic champion Emmanuel Wanyonyi in a thrilling men's 800m contest at the Diamond League meeting.

The 17-year-old sensation shocked a world-class field by crossing the finish line first in a race that came down to the smallest of margins. After an intense battle over the final metres, Lutkenhaus held off Wanyonyi by just one hundredth of a second, producing a dramatic finish that left the packed stadium in disbelief.

From the opening lap, the pace was relentless as the leading contenders positioned themselves for a fierce showdown. As the athletes entered the home straight, Wanyonyi appeared poised to unleash his trademark finishing kick. However, Lutkenhaus refused to be intimidated, matching the Olympic champion stride for stride before producing a perfectly timed lean at the line to secure a historic victory.

The result marks a breakthrough moment for the young American, who continues to establish himself as one of the brightest talents in global athletics. Defeating an Olympic champion at a Diamond League event is a feat many athletes spend entire careers pursuing, yet Lutkenhaus achieved it before reaching adulthood.

For Wanyonyi, the narrow defeat does little to diminish his status as one of the world's premier 800m runners. The Kenyan once again demonstrated his exceptional class and competitiveness, pushing the race to a world-class standard and forcing his young rival to deliver the performance of a lifetime.

Beyond the result itself, the race offered a glimpse into what could become one of the sport's most exciting rivalries in the years ahead. With established stars and emerging talents now pushing each other to new heights, the men's 800m continues to evolve into one of athletics' most captivating events.

On a memorable night in Oslo, the spotlight belonged to Cooper Lutkenhaus. At just 17 years old, he stood toe-to-toe with an Olympic champion and emerged victorious, announcing himself to the athletics world in spectacular fashion.