On Sunday, I ran 26.2 miles for the first time. Finishing a marathon was (is?) one of my cardinal goals of 2026. While it was my first one, it was my partner C’s fourth. We both set this goal, individually and collectively driven. With endorphins still flowing, running a marathon taught me lessons, nearly every step of the way.
Before the Marathon
Before the day of the run, my longest timed event was a half marathon 14 years ago. My longest non-timed run before I began training? An accidental 15 miles, when I was 19. (For context, I turn 34 next week.)
Building up to 26.2 in one go took five months. I bought gear, slowly adding mileage and stuffs. These included:
- One pair of Hoka shoes, known for supporting both trail and concrete and first seen in Sante, Fe (explore C’s and my one day there: Exploring: 1 Day in Sante Fe – Hi, I’m Kaylie.)
- An accurate Garmin watch (right before signing up for the run, I shared my feelings about my Ministry of Silly Walks watch: Intersection: Racing, Relaxing, and Somewhere In-Between – Hi, I’m Kaylie.)
- A Nathan-brand handheld bottle that slow-releases water, purchased just weeks before the run, to support both a 20-miler and 26.2-er (thanks, Nathan, whoever you are)
Further, in the midst of training, I changed jobs. A former 45-minute commute now became 65. Naturally, my sense of time and space shifted. I realized, if I can drive 65 minutes, I can certainly run that. Turns out, I can also run double and triple that, too.
So much changed. Gratitude took shape through setting small scavenger hunts for myself, helping me be present for those long commutes and ever-increasing runs. How much yellow can I see in one day? was a common one. I still adore the field of wildflowers that marks the last stretch before turning home.
And yet. Some things remained. I stayed the course of a plants-based athlete. C re-introduced me to yoga, and we stretched every morning. With prayer and action, there was little room for doubt (though I struggled a month before, let down by the time it took for a 20-miler).
During the Marathon
When it came to the day of the run, a surprisingly sunny Sunday in September, I was joyfully prepared: I took the day before and after off. Instead of taking an hour to drive that morning, we got a hotel stay, a mere two miles away, complete with continental breakfast and hot tub. I still made breakfast quinoa for Sunday breakfast and asked the concierge for extra coffee. Within the Nathan bottle, I packed date halves and fruit leather.
When I ran the half marathon, I remember stopping inside a dorm room to use the bathroom. This time around for the full, I managed to use the porta-potty minutes before the run. And never once stopped.
As part of our training, C and I ran a good chunk of the course, so I didn’t stress over the map. And I knew the elevation was a bit higher than Denver’s. And yet. Wayfinding supported runners of all distances – from 5K to 26.2 – so I knew I’d be safe, surrounded by athletes like me. (During some of training, I learned my heart elevates when faced with unknown locations, and that didn’t translate to faster times.)
It was seldom a race. Coaching Girls on the Run taught me that. Instead, Sunday’s event truly was an endurance challenge. I never stopped to walk, even uphill! Instead, I grabbed goo (carb-loaded energy gel) once, electrolytes almost every time, and water every time. I helped one person with an ambulance.
We didn’t plan for all the musicians and DJs playing our way. I didn’t expect volunteers and fans with accurate cheers and slogans, like “motivational sign.” and “weird hobby but I support it”. What C and I did plan? Running much of it together. Certainly, he waited for me a handful of times. It was his longest run, timewise, and it was my longest, distance-wise. But in a sea of speedy runners and sick athletes alike, we finished the run, at the exact same time.
After the Marathon
With selfies snapped and new metals around our necks, I craved food, just like post-half. I garbled up a vegan sandwich, loaded with avocado and almond “feta”. I drank so much water. And did my best to help those around me who were sick.
With hobbling legs, C and I took an Uber back to the hotel, eventually settling into the hot tub. My right middle toe has seen better days, still. But I’m still here.
Honoring the finish takes celebration! I love a project. With these lessons, how can I continue contributing to my life? Completing what I start. Doing what I set out to do takes resilience. Honoring my values, I tell the truth, even writing about the not-so-glamourous times.
Within a day of finishing, I also felt grief. I know there’s low-level emptiness that comes from endings. But it’s not the end. Further, I know this is not the end of my distance running days.
Now I can add specifics: I’m a “marathon runner” and enjoy “marathon running”. A kid who had PT growing up enjoying running for hours at a time? Who knew? What else can I accomplish?
I’m so, so grateful for… God giving me a body and brain that endure. My partner for encouraging me to keep going, eat more than I think, and stretch. Friends and family who wrote, texted, and called. Not one but two libraries who supported this not-so-weird hobby. Girls on the Run co-coaches. Dr. Brown, who shaped my back and quite literally had it. Dr. Hatcher, who hosted a half marathon class in the middle of nowhere, WI. Thank you all.