My Decision Not to Run the Boston Marathon in 2025
Lessons in the Marathon Part 1
Boston registration opened this week. Four of the eight marathons I’ve run have been Boston. I was fortunate to qualify for my first marathon and get accepted into the Boston Marathon of 2018. My first marathon took place in my hometown of Pittsburgh. Training and running a first marathon holds significant meaning for many, and for me, it was no different.
I had endured a lot mentally over the past decade. I lost my son’s father to suicide when I was in my early 20s, a time that was incredibly dark. Though the darkness slowly receded, I continued to struggle with severe anxiety. I lived in constant fear of losing people close to me. My fear of death was consuming.
Running became a way for me to manage my anxiety and process my grief. It provided peace, and finishing my first marathon felt like confirmation that I would be okay. All the emotions that had been bottled up came to the surface, and it became clear that the marathon was a metaphor for life. Being new to marathons, I didn’t fully grasp the significance of qualifying. I didn’t even know I had qualified until someone mentioned it while I was walking back to my car. I quickly checked the qualifying times and confirmed that I had indeed qualified. Once I realized this, I felt compelled to run Boston.
My 2018 Boston Marathon experience was marked by unexpected challenges. The day we arrived, it was snowy, cold, and windy—conditions that matched the brutal winter training I had endured. It was actually supposed to warm up for marathon Monday and the weather forecast had predicted dry conditions and temperatures closer to 50 degrees, but, true to Boston form, it changed dramatically. The night before the race, the forecast called for temperatures of 30-40 degrees, strong headwinds, and monsoon-like rain.
Despite my preparation, including extra shoes and a rain jacket, the relentless weather made the race incredibly difficult. I was soaked and barely able to see through the rain. It was the most miserable 26.2 miles I’ve ever run. My hands were freezing, and my quads were burning by mile 10 due to the cold and downhill sections.
After finishing, I couldn’t stop shivering and was in significant pain, even becoming sick that night. I ran four minutes slower than my previous marathon, which was disappointing, but I was proud to have completed it. Initially, I sought redemption but later questioned if I wanted to run another marathon. It took a year before I decided to train again and requalify for Boston.
Reflecting on it, I realize that Boston 2018 was a pivotal milestone in my growth. It taught me that progress is rarely linear and that falling short of a goal can often serve as a crucial stepping stone for development in ways that aren’t immediately visible. This experience marked my first true lesson in marathoning.
