Cold rain lashed against the windshield as five friends left Rhode Island, bound for Boonsboro, Maryland, to take on the challenge of a lifetime: the JFK 50 Mile, America’s oldest ultramarathon. It was Friday, November 22nd, 2024, and we were about to be part of something historic.
The JFK 50 Mile has a rich history. It started in 1963 as part of President John F. Kennedy’s push for physical fitness. Kennedy challenged his military officers to meet the physical endurance requirements that President Teddy Roosevelt had set for his officers decades earlier: covering 50 miles on foot in under 20 hours. This “Kennedy Challenge” ignited the creation of multiple 50-mile races across the country.
After Kennedy’s assassination in November 1963, many of these events faded away. The JFK 50 Mile, held in Washington County, Maryland, not only survived but evolved. Renamed the JFK 50 Mile Memorial in 1964, it became a tribute to Kennedy’s legacy and has been held every year since, making it the oldest ultramarathon in the United States.
The course itself is a test of physical and mental endurance, blending the rugged Appalachian Trail, the flat Chesapeake and Ohio (C&O) Canal Towpath, and a hilly finish on pavement.
The race is not just a competition but also a celebration of resilience, camaraderie, and history, drawing runners from all walks of life to test their limits while honoring a piece of American history.
We all had different reasons to run this race. For some, this was an opportunity to make a personal record for a 50-miler; for others, it was their first 50-mile race. For me, this was an opportunity to be a part of history.
That night, we settled into the cabin and shared our thoughts about the race over dinner. I couldn’t stop worrying about my body. A month ago, I had run my first 100-mile race, and my right knee was still in pain. On top of that, I had hurt my neck a few days earlier. Would my body hold up?
On Saturday, November 23rd, 2024, the 62nd annual JFK 50 Mile race began. At the start, there were over one thousand participants. This was going to be a long day of 15 miles of Appalachian trails, 26 flat, mind-numbing C&O Canal Towpath miles, and rounding it off with a little over 8 miles of hilly paved roads.
Five miles in, I stepped hard, and a sharp jolt shot into my neck. That nagging neck tweak from sleeping the wrong way seemed like the unlikeliest thing to derail me, yet at that moment, it felt like it might. Every sip of water felt like a lightning bolt going down my spine, but I kept going.
The trail also had moments of beauty—quiet forests and a sense of being part of something bigger. When we reached the towpath, the flat terrain brought its own challenge: monotony. My knee throbbed with every step, and even the simple act of drinking water sent jolts of pain through my neck. Still, I kept moving forward.
The final stretch on pavement was tough, with rolling hills testing my limits. In the last mile, I caught up with a friend who was also struggling. We decided to walk the final stretch together. Crossing the finish line side by side, the exhaustion and pain melted into a sense of accomplishment.
This race wasn’t just about miles or times—it was about camaraderie, resilience, and the history we’d now become a part of.
See full race experience on my YouTube channel: