Revisiting My Roots, Racing Forward

Back in the city that shaped me, racing forward, reflecting back, and rising with every skyline light.

This weekend, I returned to New York City not just to compete in my third HYROX, but to step back into a city that once felt like home. I lived here during medical school, commuting between Queens and Long Island, threading my way through clinical rotations and crowded subway cars. It’s strange to return now as a visitor, someone changed by years, distance, and life lived beyond the boroughs.

But New York welcomed me back in its usual way: loud, fast, and bursting with possibility.

The trip was more than just a race. I found myself on a river cruise, gliding past the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. That moment hit unexpectedly hard. My great-grandfather came through Ellis Island from Russia in the early 1900s, carrying only what he could, chasing hope. I imagined him stepping onto American soil, unaware of what would unfold for his descendants generations later. And there I was, looking back at the island from the water, strong and steady anticipating the grueling hybrid competition, heart full from the weekend’s rhythm.

High above the city that shaped me, taking it all in one breath at a time.

I stood at the top of Summit One Vanderbilt, looked out over the skyline with its endless lights and edges, and wandered through Times Square, as chaotic and electric as ever. I saw Wicked, still as powerful as it was the first time I heard “Defying Gravity.” I ate the food I’d craved for years: bagels that fight back when you bite into them, slices of pizza that fold just right.

Somewhere in the middle of all that, I got word that some of my writing had been accepted for publication. A quieter victory, but one I’ll carry with me long after the soreness from the race fades.

It was a weekend that held a lot. Sweat and memories, movement and reflection. A city that shaped me, a race that challenged me, a past that grounded me, and a future that continues to unfold.