Once a year, we line the streets to cheer on 50,000 marathon runners — one of those quintessential New York experiences. It’s incredibly inspiring to see runners from places around the world, representing all ages, sizes, beliefs, and abilities, pushing the limits of physical and mental endurance. Runners often wear their names on their T-shirts, inviting people to call out to them. The feel-good energy is contagious, and I look forward to being there this Sunday — admittedly, from the sidelines in Central Park, bagel and coffee in hand!

Yesterday, we hosted a lunch at our offices for more than 250 runners from Israel — part of Team Shalva, representing a UJA grantee dedicated to caring for people with disabilities in Israel. We were joined by Bill Rudin, whose family has been a major sponsor of the marathon since 1976 and awards the winners with the Samuel Rudin Trophy, named after Bill’s late grandfather.

The stories of those running for Team Shalva and the diversity they represent are breathtaking: A patient who was shot in a terrorist attack, alongside his doctor. An autistic Special Olympic gold medalist paired with a former high-tech professional now coaching at-risk women. Brigadier generals. An Ethiopian immigrant. A Haredi rabbi. Soldiers who have served in Gaza. Survivors of 10/7. Bereaved family members. And so many more.

Not everyone who trained for the marathon could come — 10 were called back to serve in the IDF.

Speakers at the lunch included Ram Hayun, who was out running with two friends on the morning of October 7. His friends, along with two off-duty soldiers who tried to protect them, were all killed. Running has become an important therapy for Ram.

Avi Harush, whose son Reef was killed in Gaza, also spoke. Grieving deeply, Avi didn’t think he could run. But he learned that his son — just hours before his death — had told a friend how proud he was that his dad was running the marathon. So Avi decided to run. And Reef’s name is on all the Team Shalva shirts, making Avi feel that Reef is here, running with them all.

Another father, Yossi Hamani, shared that his daughter, Chaya, age 22, has an extremely rare disease. One of only 130 people in the world with her condition, Chaya is unable to move her muscles. Three years ago, after she had back surgery, she asked her father, an avid runner, if she could join him. Yossi bought a special wheelchair to accommodate their runs, and now he’ll be pushing Chaya the 26.2 miles of the marathon.

Expressing how much it means to run with Chaya for an organization helping people with disabilities, Yossi said, “My heart has become bigger and bigger.”

Ours, too.

If you’re on the streets this Sunday, be sure to look out for the runners in the Shalva team jerseys and cheer them on with all your heart.

Please also keep in mind that these past few weeks have been agonizingly painful for so many in Israel. October was one of the deadliest months of this war, with 62 Israeli soldiers killed in battle. One story widely shared in the press is of Rabbi Avi Goldberg, a beloved Jewish high school educator with eight children, who devoted his life to bringing people together. His family issued a powerful statement, carrying his legacy forward:

“The family welcomes politicians from all camps to our shiva (house of mourning). But we ask that you come together in pairs — one from the coalition and one from the opposition.” 

If only — if only — we could see such unity beyond the walls of a house of mourning.

With elections next week, and our country so bitterly divided, many despair about the road ahead. The forces that pull us apart are stronger than ever, each side locked in a rigid social media-fueled echo chamber, refusing to engage with the other side.

But we must do more than despair.

To use the obvious metaphor, the work of moving this country forward, rebuilding Israel, fighting antisemitism, caring for people in need is a marathon, not a sprint. In our own community these last 12 months, we’ve found enormous strength and comfort in one another. But we’re still far from achieving the unity required to meet the moment.  

Whatever the outcome next week, let’s commit to prioritizing community over conflict, solidarity over divisiveness — more like a team running the same course.

Shabbat shalom