Eversource Hartford Marathon: Why It's More Than Just a Race

This Saturday, as the sun rises over Hartford, something remarkable will happen. Thousands of people will gather in the crisp autumn air of Bushnell Park. They won’t be there for the launch of a new app or the unveiling of a sleek piece of hardware. They’ll be there for something far more ancient and, I would argue, far more technologically profound: to run.

On the surface, the Eversource Hartford Marathon is a simple athletic event. A 26.2-mile course, a start line, a finish line. You have the elite wheelchair athletes kicking things off at 7:55 a.m., followed by the main pack of marathoners and half-marathoners, and even a Charity 5K and a kids' fun run. But I believe if you look closer, you’re not just seeing a race. You’re seeing a powerful statement about our relationship with technology and a blueprint for a more human-centric future.

In an age where we are relentlessly optimizing for virtual connection—where our social lives unfold in comment threads and our professional lives are lived through screens—what does it mean that thousands of people still choose to subject themselves to this grueling, painful, glorious physical ordeal, together? What is this powerful force that pulls us out of our digital cocoons and onto the asphalt?

The Analog Algorithm

We spend so much of our time celebrating the elegance of code, the intricate logic of machine learning, and the seamlessness of our digital interfaces. But the marathon is a different kind of system entirely. It’s a biological algorithm, powered not by silicon and electricity, but by muscle, glycogen, and sheer human will. Each runner is a single, unique data point, a story of months of training, personal sacrifice, and quiet determination.

Think about it. On Saturday morning, these thousands of individual stories will converge, creating a single, flowing entity that moves through the city streets. It’s this incredible fusion of individual grit and shared purpose, thousands of people all breathing the same crisp autumn air, their feet hitting the pavement in a rhythm that feels ancient and futuristic all at once—it's a reminder that we are, at our core, a species built to move and strive together. This is the original social network. It doesn’t require a login; it requires showing up. It doesn’t have a feed; it has a shared path.

When I first started my career at MIT, we were obsessed with building systems that could solve complex problems. We built models and simulations to understand emergent behavior—in simpler terms, how a collection of simple, individual agents could create complex, intelligent group patterns. That’s exactly what a marathon is. It’s a living, breathing demonstration of collective action. There’s no central server commanding everyone to keep going, no software patch for a moment of doubt at mile 20. The operating system is hope. The code is courage. Is this just a temporary escape from our digital lives, or is it a powerful signal about what we’re fundamentally starting to crave from our future?

Technology as a Bridge, Not a Destination

Now, it would be easy to frame this as a simple battle: the pure, analog experience of running versus the cold, isolating nature of technology. But that’s a lazy and, frankly, incorrect analysis. The reality is far more nuanced and, to me, far more exciting. The most beautiful applications of technology aren't those that try to replace reality, but those that serve to deepen and share it.

Look at the marathon’s logistics. Buried in Thousands of runners come out for the Eversource Hartford Marathon is a small but critical detail: a live camera will be streaming the finish line on Channel 3’s digital platforms. This isn’t a gimmick. It’s a perfect example of technology used in service of human connection. For the friend who couldn’t travel, the parent watching from another state, or the child cheering on their mom from the living room, that stream is a lifeline. It’s a digital window into a profoundly real moment of human triumph. The technology isn’t the main event; it’s the bridge that allows the community to expand beyond physical boundaries.

This is a principle I call "ambient connection"—technology that works in the background to enhance our real-world relationships rather than demanding to be the focus of our attention. It doesn’t pull you into a virtual world; it strengthens your ties to the real one. When I see this in action, I honestly just sit back in my chair, deeply moved. This is the kind of breakthrough that reminds me why I got into this field in the first place. It’s not about creating more immersive headsets; it’s about creating more shared moments of joy.

Of course, this points to an immense responsibility. As we design the next generation of tools, we have to constantly ask ourselves a critical question: Is this technology pulling people apart into isolated experiences, or is it creating new ways for them to come together? The marathon provides the answer. The goal isn’t to simulate the feeling of crossing a finish line; it’s to build the tools that let a grandmother a thousand miles away see the real, tear-streaked, exhausted, and triumphant face of her grandchild as they actually do it.

This Is What We're Building Toward

The future isn’t about choosing between the physical and the digital. It’s about a thoughtful integration of the two. The Eversource Hartford Marathon, with its messy, sweaty, and beautiful humanity, isn’t a rejection of progress. It’s a compass. It points us toward a future where our innovations are measured not by processing power or bandwidth, but by their ability to amplify our courage, our resilience, and our capacity to show up for one another.

This Saturday, thousands of runners will cross the finish line in Bushnell Park. They’ll receive a medal, a bottle of water, and maybe a celebratory beer from the beer garden. But they, and all of us watching, will have participated in something far bigger: a reaffirmation of the irreplaceable, unbeatable power of the human spirit, running together into whatever comes next.