Tim Rossi and his father had a long-running bet. When Tim started running marathons, the question emerged: could he beat his dad's New York City Marathon time of 3:01:56 from 1982? “Thankfully I did,” Tim jokes in 3:01:56, Zack McTee's new documentary. “Otherwise I never would've heard the end of it." But Steve Rossi passed away in 2024, and suddenly the terms of the bet changed. This time, Tim – a marathoner with a 2:31 PB – didn't want to better his father’s time, as he had in every race he’s finished before. Instead, he wanted to run NYC’s 2024 major in exactly 3:01:56 – to cross the finish line with his father, 42 years apart. Whether he pulled it off is the emotional crux of Zack's 10-minute film.

The Guy With the Skateboard

Zack McTee grew up in Ogden, Utah – a small railroad town in the mountains north of Salt Lake City. He grew up with a skateboard and a busted VHS camcorder whose batteries didn’t work. “We’d have to bring like a 50-foot, 100-foot extension cord to the spots to film ourselves,” he explains. By high school, Zack and his crew were hitting the streets and making skate videos every minute they got. When a feature film came through town, he got a job as assistant editor, stacked up his money and ran away to Los Angeles – never checking whether he’d actually graduated.

In LA, Zack fell into early branded content. Then came New York, and a chance encounter with Mike Saes of Bridgerunners. “Here’s a guy with a skateboard that films while we run, and we need people that can keep up with us,” Zack says, summarising Mike’s pitch. Nike paid him to film the Harold Hunter Bridgerun, an annual celebration of a legendary NYC skater. That was 14 years ago. Zack’s own running took longer to develop. Last year, preparing to film Further – lululemon’s six-day women’s ultramarathon – he decided he couldn’t show up having never run an ultra himself. So Zack – who had never run a standard 26.2-mile/42.2km marathon – entered the Ted Corbitt 50K, a race honouring the father of US distance running. Think January, cold rain, New York City.

A Personal Tribute

Tim Rossi needs little introduction for Tempo readers. Co-founder of the Lostboys run crew, head of brand at Bandit, and our longest-standing correspondent – we’ve followed his attempts to crack 2:30 in the marathon for years. His PB of 2:31:19, set at the 2018 NYC Marathon, has stood ever since. Which is to say: Tim is fast. His father’s 3:01:56 from 1982 was well within his capabilities. This wasn’t about whether he could run that time – it was about whether he could hit it exactly.

Zack and Tim first met at a Lostboys photo book launch around 2023. Zack was itching to make something personal, free from the layers of brand oversight. The next year, Tim mentioned he was thinking about running NYC in memory of his father. “I was like, dude, you should try to run the same time as him,” Zack recalls. “Don’t beat him – just try to do the exact same time. That would be crazy. To literally run in his footsteps.” Tim was already thinking along similar lines and a plan soon emerged to document this heartfelt tribute. “This is probably the most heavily weighted in my dad’s favour, [the best] opportunity that he has had to beat me,” Tim says as he reflects on how difficult it might be to run to a precise time. “And maybe in his old, sneaky, subtle, shitty way, he has kind of set me up for this one more bet of who’s gonna beat whom.”

His Rossi Legs and Your Rossi Legs

According to Tim’s mother, who appears in the film, when Steve Rossi ran the NYC Marathon – the only marathon he ever entered – he did it without stopping for water and without really training. The family had a running joke about whether his medal even existed – they’d never been able to find it. “We thought he was kind of just lying,” Tim deadpans in the documentary. Later he tells Tempo that he did eventually verify his dad’s time and was able to present him with a printout on his birthday; this was when Tim was about 14, he says.
The film’s emotional core comes from Tim’s family. His mother’s voicemail before the race is among the documentary’s most affecting moments: “This is going to be one of those moments that we’ll keep in our hearts forever. You taking on the New York Marathon and running to celebrate Dad, Pops, Stove, Steve. I know Dad will be with you, his Rossi legs and your Rossi legs. Together.”

One Step Ahead To do justice to such emotional material, Zack approached the film with a clear aesthetic vision. After years of commercial work – “I’ve gotten pretty good at telling 30-second stories” – he wanted to let moments breathe. He shot ultra-wide, brought signatures from his skateboard days – fisheye lenses, slow-motion – and kept things unstaged. One of Zack’s favourite things about the film is that Tim never stops talking. “He’s just rambling,” Zack says, affectionately. “These are the things that go through your mind when you’re running. You toggle back and forth between positive energy and negative energy in this really beautiful way.” Music anchors the emotional landscape of 3:01:56. “I’ll Be There in the Morning” by Townes Van Zandt appears twice – first as a cover by Jason Molina of Songs: Ohia and Magnolia Electric Co., then as Van Zandt’s original over the closing credits. Both artists died tragically young, lending an already pathos-laden song an extra dimension of loss. The lyrics – “Close your eyes, I’ll be here in the morning” – become a meditation on love outlasting the people who carry it.

Lou Reed’s “Perfect Day” soundtracks the marathon sequence – surface joy and underlying melancholy building to an emotional crescendo, mirroring Tim’s experience: celebration on the sidelines, profound absence running alongside him. As the marathon sequence unfolds, a montage of voicemails plays over the footage. Tim’s sister and aunt. Friends wishing him luck. His mum’s message about Rossi legs. And then the finish. "I tried to walk across the line right at the exact same time my dad had run," Tim says. "3:01:56." He pauses. For a moment, the guy who never stops talking has nothing to say. And then it clicks – what just happened, what it means, whether his dad won or whether he accidentally beat his old man again, or whether they tied.

What happens – and how Tim processes it – is the emotional heart of the film. We won't spoil it here. But it's the moment Zack calls his favourite part of the whole film: "There's just this beat where he finally shuts up and it feels like the whole thing comes together."

What Running Can Be Zack held onto the finished film for months, premiering it during NYC Marathon week 2025 at a party in Gowanus, Brooklyn. Tim and his family saw it for the first time. Zack had deliberately kept it from them. Tim’s mother was “just balling”. She’s watched it many times since, sending Zack a message: “Thank you so much. This is incredible.” “That alone is really all I cared about,” Zack says. “Making something that Tim’s family could have forever, and making something I’m proud of that represents my voice and my vision. I think we did pretty good on those.”

Ask Zack about his plans for releasing the film online and you’ll get a thoughtful pause. He’s genuinely ambivalent about making it too easy to access. “Something about the process of having made it – the purpose for doing it was just to make art, make something personal,” he says. “And it was so nice to just have this screening, invite people out.”

At the time of writing, Zack is still figuring out the best way to distribute the film more widely – we’re lucky to be sharing a time-limited embed, up for 14 days. Beside the deeply personal nature of the work (Tim is happy for it to be shown), it’s Zack’s nature as an old-school skater; he misses a time when things were hard to find and seeking them out showed commitment and investment. The director is even thinking about creating a torrent for those willing to find the film and download it. Watch this space. “Running’s kind of been my saving grace through this whole process,” Tim says early in the film. “I think this will be something really helpful for me and my mom, my sister and my family to look back on. Something positive, something exciting. Something fun within what has otherwise been a pretty crazy process to go through.” That’s what 3:01:56 captures – not just a race, but a different way of experiencing what running can be. Not chasing a time but honouring one.