Joshua S. Reisberg, Partner, New York
Every two years in June, I cast off my dock lines in Newport, Rhode Island, and point my 40-foot sailboat, Abilyn, toward Bermuda. The race is called the Bermuda 1-2: a 635-nautical mile crossing of the North Atlantic Ocean, first alone, and then back with a co-skipper. My boat is named after my twin daughters, Abigail and Dylan, which means that even in the most difficult moments offshore, I sail with their names quite literally under my feet.
On paper, this is a competition. There will be winners, rankings, and podiums. But for me, the race is also something more: a deliberate practice in wellness. When I leave shore, I enter a space where the distractions of modern life— the constant notifications, the pull of deadlines, the swirl of obligations— fall silent. Out there, it’ s just the boat, the sea, and me. And when those layers peel away, what’ s left is a raw confrontation with fundamental components of the human condition: resilience, joy, and the instinctive need to survive.
Solo sailing is not an escape from stress so much as a transformation of it. The sea demands focus. Every sail change, every course decision, every hour of rest( or lack of it) matters. In those moments, wellness comes not from stillness but from total presence. The ocean forces humility; it teaches you quickly that you are not in control. Rather, our rightful place is like anything else in this world— in harmony with everything around us.
That humility has ancient roots. Philosophers and navigators have long turned to the sea for clarity. Plato once wrote that“ the sea cures all ailments of man.” I’ ve found the cure comes not from any promise of comfort, but from the discipline of listening— to the waves, the weather, and, ultimately, to yourself. It’ s striking how similar those demands are to the practice of law. As lawyers, we are asked to bring clarity, presence, and humility to each matter, no matter how turbulent the conditions around us.
Wellness, for me, is not about stepping away from challenges but stepping into them with awareness. The Bermuda 1-2 is a modern test of endurance, yes, but it is also an experiment in solitude, an exploration of limits, and a reminder of the basic human qualities— resilience, patience, humility— that too often get buried in the noise of daily life.
I sail not to flee the world, but to return with a clearer sense of where I stand in it. After days offshore, when I finally step back onto land, I carry with me a kind of reset: a deeper calm, sharper focus, and renewed gratitude for my family, colleagues, and the work we do together.
We all have our versions of the sea— whether it’ s running, painting, hiking, or simply making time to breathe in a quiet place. It comes down to a choice— a choice to be present, or not.
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The BRoader Impact- 2026 Annual Report