Long Island Marathon weekend: Runners tell their stories

DeWitt Jones ran his first half-marathon at the Long Island Marathon in 1985 and has competed in it almost every year since. But 2025's race was special, he said. For the first time, he ran it with his two adult sons by his side. 

"When I leave here, the world, and they think about the Long Island Marathon, they'll think about me," DeWitt, 65, of Freeport, said of his sons. "And hopefully they will continue the tradition with their kids."

Jones, an assistant basketball coach at Nassau Community College, and his sons, DeWitt II and Brandon, were among the thousands who ran in the marathon and half marathon Sunday that began and finished at Eisenhower Park in East Meadow. Sunday's events marked the end of race weekend at the park, where runners also participated in a 5K, a 10K and a children's 1K.

The weekend benefited the Nassau Parks Conservancy and Friends of Karen, which provides advocacy and emotional and financial assistance to children with life-threatening illness, as well as their families. 

On Sunday, runners crossed the finish line drenched in sweat and looking relieved and exhausted. They grabbed water bottles, bagels and chunks of watermelon from race officials, embraced their loved ones and wore medals around their necks. 

Some ran to complete a fitness goal. Others, to prove to themselves that they could. 

Megan Sticco, 24, did it to honor her late cousin Michael Shiel, who died unexpectedly in October at age 35. About a dozen friends and family members joined Sticco on Sunday for the 13.1-mile race. They raised more than $1,000 to donate to the animal shelter where Shiel had adopted his dog.

Sticco said she was thinking of Shiel as she started the race. She wore a blue T-shirt — Shiel was a big New York Giants fan — bearing a picture of his face. 

"It was very emotional in the beginning," said Sticco, of Kings Park. "At the end, it was more just like, pain, and not throwing up."

Scott Glick, 54, of Malverne, started running 20 years ago as a way to calm his newborn daughter, who was colicky and would only sleep in her stroller. So Glick started to walk, and then run, while pushing her.

"I saw her yesterday, she wished me luck and I said, 'You're the reason I run.' She was like, 'I know, I heard.' I repeat my stories apparently," Glick said, chuckling.

Aaron Ross, of Matawan, New Jersey, ran the marathon Sunday, but as a volunteer pacer, not a competitor. He held up a sign that read, "3:50" — three hours, fifty minutes — as he ran to help keep runners aware of their timing. Ross said he viewed himself as something of a coach. He would encourage those making good time to speed up, and those who were who walking to start running again. 

"There was one guy with me 23 miles from the beginning," Ross said. "I said, 'If you're feeling good, now is the time to go, don't let me slow you down, I want you to take the last bit of energy you have.' "

Ross cut a distinctive figure, with a bushy gray beard and a black baseball cap framing his face. Not long after he crossed the finish line, a number of runners fist bumped Ross and thanked him, including one man who spoke to him in Hebrew.

People sometimes call him the "Running Rabbi," Ross said, and though he's not ordained, he spoke of running as a metaphor for life.

"Not every day is going to be your day," Ross, 57, said. "The joy of being healthy, and feeling good, that's really the bigger race."

By Joshua Needelman

joshua.needelman@newsday.com

Joshua Needelman covers the Town of North Hempstead for Newsday. A Long Island native and University of Maryland graduate, his work has appeared in publications including The New York Times and The Washington Post.