When most people sign up for a marathon, they have one goal: cross the finish line.
My name is Leanna Salem, a native Memphian and a girl obsessed with staying active. This year, I signed up for the 2026 New York City Marathon with two goals. Yes, I want to finish 26.2 miles through the streets of New York City. But more importantly, I want every mile to help someone who didn’t choose to run in the first place.
This November, I’ll be running as part of Team UNHCR, raising money for refugees around the world. As a Palestinian American, a Muslim, and a physical therapist here in Memphis, this cause feels deeply personal. Every training run reminds me that while I get to run for a medal and a bucket-list experience, millions of people have been forced to run simply to survive.
That’s a perspective that makes every sore muscle feel pretty small.
If you’ve ever trained for a marathon, you know it’s a strange hobby. You willingly wake up before sunrise on weekends. You start talking about “easy” 15-mile runs like they’re normal. Your laundry is somehow always damp with sweat, and you become emotionally attached to your favorite pair of running shoes.
My friends have watched me turn down late-night plans because I had a long run the next morning. My family has patiently listened to conversations about pacing, gels, hydration, and why I somehow needed to run for three hours before breakfast.
And honestly? They’re probably ready for marathon season to be over.
But this marathon is different. Every mile has a purpose beyond a finish time.
As a physical therapist in Memphis, I spend my days helping people get back on their feet. I work with patients recovering from surgeries, injuries, and illnesses. It’s incredibly rewarding to help someone walk without pain again or accomplish something they thought they’d never do.
That same desire to help people regain hope is what drew me to this fundraiser.
The refugee families supported through UNHCR aren’t just statistics. They’re parents trying to protect their children. Students hoping to continue their education. Families searching for safety, stability, and the chance to rebuild their lives.
Many of us in Memphis know what community looks like. We rally around St. Jude. We show up when our neighbors are in need. We support local charities, schools, churches, mosques, and nonprofits because that’s simply what Memphis does best.
I’m hoping we can extend that same generosity a little farther.
The New York City Marathon has always been on my bucket list. It’s one of the world’s most iconic races, winding through all five boroughs with over a million spectators cheering from the sidewalks. The energy is unforgettable.
But I don’t want the story to be about me running through New York.
I want it to be about Memphis showing what generosity looks like.
Imagine hundreds of people giving five, ten, or twenty dollars—not because they know the refugees personally, but because compassion doesn’t require an introduction.
Every donation, no matter the size, becomes another reminder that kindness travels farther than we realize.
Training has already taught me that progress happens one step at a time. Some days I feel strong. Other days, six miles feels harder than sixteen. There are mornings when I question why I signed up for this in the first place.
Then I remember why.
I remember that I chose this challenge.
Many refugees never had a choice.
So when my legs get tired, I keep running.
When my alarm goes off before sunrise, I lace up anyway.
When Memphis humidity makes every run feel like I’m breathing through a wet towel, I remind myself that this is temporary.
If even one family benefits because our community decided to come together, every mile will have been worth it.
This isn’t just my marathon. I’d love for it to become Memphis’ marathon.
Whether you donate, share my fundraiser, cheer me on from afar, or simply ask how training is going, you’re part of the journey.
In November, I’ll be the one crossing the finish line in New York.
But I hope I’ll be carrying the support of an entire city with me.
Because the best thing about Memphis has never been our barbecue, our music, or even our sports.
It’s our heart.
And I can’t think of a better way to show it than by turning 26.2 miles into hope for families who need it most.
This blog was written by Leanna Salem
Leanna Salem is a Memphis native with a Doctorate in Physical Therapy. Outside of the clinic, she’s a devoted Grizzlies fan, obsessed with Babalu’s burger, and can usually be found running to a new coffee shop.
