The Other New York Marathon

Contributing Writer David Grinsfelder Reports on the Social Chaos Summer Brings to NYC

By DAVID GRINSFELDER | Contributing Writer

On a crisp autumn morning in early November, thousands of people gather at the starting line of the New York City Marathon, having prepared and qualified for this storied event.

As this race gets underway, another one is coming to an inauspicious end. It is a marathon of sorts—albeit much longer and far more grueling. This, dear readers, is the New York City Social Marathon.

Born and raised in Pacific Palisades, I am entirely accustomed to our comfortable temperate climate that oscillates between pleasant, a little less pleasant and pleasant again. This repetitive weather pattern gives rise to “season monotony” that, in my opinion, neutralizes enthusiasm for the golden rays of summer.

When you can enjoy sunshine and moderate temperatures 300-plus days per year, summer doesn’t quite pack the same punch as it does when there is no “dead period” with which to compare it. Enter the seasons of New York.

Because residents of the Big Apple spend the months of December to March scurrying from one heated indoor location to the next, they breathe a collective, quasi-spiritual sigh of relief when the frost breaks and the air finally begins to warm.

As winter succumbs to spring, New Yorkers cautiously begin their metamorphosis, shedding peacoats and puffer jackets (and doing an apprehensive wardrobe inventory, lest it be an infamous “false spring” that comes just before winter’s end and blindsides them with another 10 days of bitter temperatures). By late April, there is no denying it: Summer is weeks, if not days, away.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is when the real New York City marathon begins.

There is no official starting line, but at some point after Father’s Day in mid-June, a silent starting gun goes off and the race is suddenly underway. As the days grow in length, so do the social calendars.

More daylight hours mean evening picnics after work on Sheep’s Meadow in Central Park. Rooftop soirées that would be impossible in January become a staple of the weekly itinerary.

Proverbial “hot girl walks” (ask your resident Gen Z friend or family member for a definition) on the Westside Highway would be a lonely affair on any winter day, but they provide a flurry of 10-second romances from July through September.

Of course, there is good reason I felt like a zoo animal whose keeper left the gates open on the most perfect days of the year. Anyone who has done a full 12-month cycle in Manhattan knows this incredible season of sociability, and the limitless sips and trips that go with it, is tantalizingly short.

Twelve weeks is not much time when you factor in several weekend getaways to the Hamptons, a flurry of friends visiting from out of town, and endless happy hours and solicitations to “grab a drink sometime.” Did someone suggest an impromptu trip to London? I guess that trip home for Labor Day can wait until next year.

It is a time-honored tradition for New Yorkers to leave it all on the field during the marvelously long days of summer. And it is precisely because these idyllic days seem to fly by that residents tolerate the frenetic sprint toward fall that grips the city each year.

Does it occasionally get overwhelming? Yes. Is it actually necessary to leave New York City every few weeks, lest one get swept up in a social current of dinners, drinks and U.S. Open festivities, never to be heard from again? Absolutely.

But in the end, most New Yorkers will agree that winter’s quietude and indoor-ness juxtaposes summer’s exquisite social chaos in a way that begets genuine appreciation.

In many respects, summer season in the concrete jungle is much like the 26.2 miles that runners will travel on Sunday, November 3. Crowds of people line the streets. It is loud. It is chaotic. Participants are never drinking as much water as they probably should. And inevitably, you will find yourself pleasantly surprised by the vibe of a neighborhood you had no intention of ever visiting.

In the end, regardless of which marathon they run, New Yorkers can look back on the experience and be proud that they gave it their all.

David Grinsfelder is a graduate of Palisades Charter High School (2015) and UC Berkeley (2019). He currently lives in New York and is writing a series of travel stories for the Palisadian-Post. The Grinsfelders have been Highlands residents since 1989.