The Astonishing Feat That Left Broadway Fans in Awe: Jordan Litz's Marathon-to-Stage Leap
Imagine crossing the finish line of one of the world's toughest marathons, only to dash straight into a high-energy Broadway performance. That's the jaw-dropping reality for Jordan Litz, the star of Wicked, who turned heads nationwide with his incredible endurance. But here's where it gets controversial: Is pushing the body to such extremes a heroic display of dedication, or a risky gamble that could harm long-term health? Read on to dive into this inspiring story and decide for yourself.
This past weekend, Jordan Litz, who plays Fiyero in the iconic Broadway production of Wicked (link: https://playbill.com/production/wicked-broadway-gershwin-theatre-2003), achieved the seemingly impossible. With just under six months of serious training, he conquered the New York City Marathon on November 2, then dove right into two consecutive performances at the Gershwin Theatre.
His accomplishment didn't just impress—it went viral. Litz graced The Today Show, got shoutouts on Saturday Night Live, and dominated marathon coverage across the city, captivating audiences with his blend of physical prowess and theatrical flair.
For Litz, though, this was deeply personal: a way to prove his own limits while supporting a worthy cause. He completed his inaugural marathon in an impressive 3:40:53, raising funds for Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS (BCEFA), before hurrying to the theater for a 2 PM matinee and a 7 PM evening show.
After taking a well-earned day off on Monday to recuperate, Litz chatted with Playbill about the experience, his remarkable wife Julie, and how marathon prep reignited his passion for athletic challenges from his days as an Olympic-level swimmer.
How are you holding up?
Jordan Litz: I'm managing! It's been overwhelming, totally unexpected, but I'm truly honored by it all.
This was your debut at the New York City Marathon, right?
Litz: Absolutely, and I've never tackled a full marathon anywhere else. In fact, I hadn't even logged 26.2 miles in training. My longest run before Sunday topped out at 22 miles. I only committed to running seriously this year, and I wasn't planning on the marathon initially. But connecting with Broadway Cares pulled me in, and one opportunity snowballed into this adventure.
Do you have a tally on the funds raised for BCEFA?
Litz: We're just shy of $21,000—around $20,850.
That's remarkable! How did you juggle your schedule while prepping? Was this planned a year ahead, or more recently?
Litz: I linked up with Broadway Cares about six months prior, so I ramped up training roughly five months ago. Balancing eight Broadway shows weekly, caring for a two-year-old, living in Jersey, and commuting daily into the city was no small feat. Most of my runs happened midday in scorching summer heat—think 95 degrees with 85% humidity—because my nights ended late after shows, and mornings were for family time. Only when Greta napped at 1 PM could I hit the pavement. It gave me excellent heat acclimation, but I wouldn't advise it for anyone!
What drew you to this intense form of support for Broadway Cares instead of something easier?
Litz: It aligned perfectly with my passions: Broadway and testing my physical boundaries. I've always been an athlete, pushing what my body can do. Transitioning from swimming at the 2012 Olympic trials to running felt natural—both are endurance-based—and I knew it would keep me engaged. Plus, rallying support around running the NYC Marathon and then performing Broadway felt uniquely special, so quintessentially New York. I've never felt more connected to the city than during that race.
And this is the part most people miss: Did you connect with other Broadway stars running the marathon, like Alaina Vi Maderal from & Juliet?
Litz: Unfortunately not—we were in separate starting groups. This year's marathon shattered records with about 59,000 participants, making it nearly impossible to spot anyone, especially without cell service. But afterward, maybe we can launch a Broadway running club for next year's event.
How did you coordinate with your wife Julie to stay present as a husband and dad amidst Broadway demands and marathon training?
Litz: The Broadway routine is demanding, but my later start times let me spend most weekdays with family. I'd catch a train into the city around 3:30 or 4:45 PM, maximizing mornings with them and afternoons while Greta napped. Weekends were brutal, though. Julie's a real superhero—she held everything together, cheering me on through this wild pursuit. And now, she's preparing for her own 'marathon' soon: our second child arrives December 18. I'll be stepping up more after that.
The leap from one child to two sounds monumental.
Litz: Exactly what folks say! Zero to one is a total game-changer you can't fully anticipate. One to two is challenging but doable since you've got some experience, and beyond that, it's just more organized chaos—you'll navigate it. This was something I needed to accomplish before baby two arrived.
What kept you going during the race, especially since you only trained up to 22 miles? Where did you draw energy for those last four?
Litz: Over those three-and-a-half hours, my mind raced through countless thoughts. A marathon puts you through mental negotiations. At mile 22, exiting the Bronx, my hamstring seized up—I nearly quit, barely able to walk, let alone run. But thinking of everyone rooting for me... I'd posted on social media asking fans to shout 'Fiyero!' from Wicked's 'No Good Deed' if they saw me. Hearing those calls propelled me up Fifth Avenue and through Central Park. Each one was a boost: 'You've got this for them.' Plus, SNL's joke the night before about me doing the marathon, then two shows, and 'dying'—I had to prove I could finish it all.
It wasn't just about crossing the finish line and rushing to the theater, was it? Don't race organizers require post-race walking for safety?
Litz: Yes, but the New York Road Runners team understood my mission and let me bypass the usual protocol. I did some quick media, then slipped out to Central Park West. From there, I walked about 20 blocks to the Gershwin—faster than dealing with subways or traffic. I met Julie at Columbus Circle, had a good cry on her shoulder, snapped a photo (where I look awful), and we strolled to the theater with Greta.
Does Greta grasp the significance of what you did?
Litz: She watched at the finish, but at two years old, she probably sees it as just another fun event. Hopefully, when she's older—in high school or college—she and her sister can look back and think, 'If Dad ran a marathon and then two Broadway shows, I can achieve anything. We're boundless.'
Tell us about the performances. Your dresser must have had a arsenal of recovery aids ready.
Litz: Stephen, my dresser, was a lifesaver. He decked out my dressing room with grapes, chips, bananas, and more, plus a golden banner saying 'You did it!' with streamers. He even taped a mini finish line for me to 'cross.' I hugged him and cried for five minutes. Then, 15 minutes before curtain, still in my race gear, shoes on, bib intact, I showered and crammed in bananas and Gatorade—the only things my stomach could handle for quick energy. Jennifer, our standby Glinda, caught a video of me in disbelief before my first entrance for 'Dancing Through Life.' It's one of my favorites from the day.
How did you manage the physical toll between and during the shows? Any blisters to contend with?
Litz: Surprisingly, no blisters at all during 26 weeks of training. I obsessed over foot care: anti-blister socks, thorough shoe research, rotating three pairs—a race-day shoe, a long-run shoe, and a tempo shoe. I kept my nails trimmed perfectly, stayed well-groomed, and tuned into my body. That vigilance made the difference. For beginners, this highlights how prevention can prevent common running pitfalls like foot issues.
When you stepped onstage, was it muscle memory that carried you, or did you have to guide your body through?
Litz: Muscle memory took over completely. With over 1,500 performances under my belt—I'm the longest-running Fiyero in Broadway history—I leaned on that. I've performed through injuries like sprained ankles or a seven-year knee issue. I told myself, 'You've handled worse; trust you'll make it.' No modifications needed, thanks to my support team: Stephen's care, the cast's encouragement. I was incredibly lucky.
Did the 'No Good Deed' battle cry feel different after hearing it shouted at you all day?
Litz: I didn't even register it during the show. By then, I was changing into Scarecrow gear, my main scenes done—no more swinging or intense physicality. The day was a blur of survival and celebration; I couldn't process it.
Did the production give you any special recognition at curtain call?
Litz: Since we're fundraising for Broadway Cares, Natasha Yvette Williams, our Madame Morrible, mentioned my marathon in her speech, noting I finished 40 minutes before half-hour call and walked straight over. Brad Oscar did the same for the evening show. Their acknowledgment, and the cast cheering my bow, was surreal.
How did you spend intermission? A nap, stretching, or keeping moving to avoid a crash?
Litz: No nap for me. Julie and Greta visited; we ate dinner, I propped my legs up. There's a sweet photo of us both with legs elevated, draining the pain. Adrenaline faded for the second show, so I dug deep—it ended up being one of my best performances.
Were there talks with understudies about stepping in if you couldn't go on?
Litz: I didn't discuss it with Travis or Dan, but stage manager Peyton Taylor Becker knew. She likely had them ready, but with my track record of rarely calling out in five years, she trusted I'd deliver a strong show. I wouldn't jeopardize Wicked's or my reputation by performing poorly—it's too vital.
Fans' stunned reactions echo those for Cynthia Erivo's similar stunt during The Color Purple. What drives you to such extreme physical and artistic pushes?
Litz: It's always been me—probing limits, even at the risk of health, whether in the pool, on the road, or onstage. Comparing to Cynthia Erivo is flattering; she ran in 2016 in four hours flat, then performed that night. Though she did one show, her role in The Color Purple probably equaled two Fiyeros. She's incredible, and sharing this with her and Wicked means a lot.
But here's where it gets controversial: Pushing limits like this—combining extreme physical feats with demanding performances—could be seen as inspiring dedication or reckless endangerment. Is the thrill worth potential burnout or injury? What do you think—does ambition have boundaries, or should we applaud those who defy them? Share your thoughts in the comments: Do you see this as heroic, or hazardous? And if you've faced your own limits, how did you handle them?
Photos: Lencia Kebede, Allie Trimm, and the Cast of Wicked on Broadway
