What 26.2 Miles Can Teach You About Yourself

Ahh, The Fall. It’s akin to a runner’s playoff and championship season, anchored by three of the Abbott World Marathon Majors. Berlin was last month, Chicago just wrapped, and New York is right around the corner.

Endurance events in general hold a special place for me – they’re a microcosm of life. I mean, endurance is literally about the ability to endure, and Merriam-Webster defines it as “the ability to withstand hardship or adversity,” especially “the ability to sustain a prolonged stressful effort or activity.” Over the years I’ve taken on a Spartan Ultra 50K, several 10 to 30 mile trail events, a handful of 20 to 30 mile hikes, 50+ mile bike tours, and an Olympic distance triathlon. Every one of them is phenomenal at pitting your mind against your body and pushing you past your perceived limits, and that’s the beauty of endurance events.

But there’s something unique about the road race marathon. Maybe it’s the limited change in terrain, the single discipline, or the lack of breaks from obstacles or mountain scrambles. Maybe it’s that everything is powered by your own two legs, with no drifts or declines on wheels to give you a breather. Whatever the exact reason, it leaves a long, uninterrupted stretch where it’s just your mind and your body.

Regardless of how fast or how long it takes someone to push out those 26.2 miles, one thing I know for certain: completing a marathon is something special, especially the first one. It’s undoubtedly a major physical feat, an exhibition of what the body can do when challenged. But I believe it’s even more a testament to the human will and what a person can achieve when they truly put their mind to something.

I’ve had the opportunity to run two World Majors in recent years: New York in 2023 (my first full road marathon), and Chicago in 2024. Genuinely two of the most challenging, debilitating, and humbling experiences of my life, and simultaneously two of the most enriching, joyous, and proudest.

I say that as someone who had no business running a full marathon on paper. I wasn’t a long-distance kid. Yeah I ran some track in high school and college back in the day, but I was built and trained as a sprinter. Short burst, fast twitch muscles. Get in and get out. As an younger adult, my physical pursuits historically leaned toward strength training, contact sports, and obstacle course racing. Moving a bigger frame 26.2 miles isn’t exactly the easiest sell.

But that was never really the point. I’m not out here trying to be the next Sebastian Sawe, or anywhere remotely close. I’m just continuously finding new ways to push myself in You v You battles.

The Battle With Yourself

Some people love to brag and claim they could roll out of bed and run a marathon with no prep. Maybe some can – good for them. For the rest of us on Earth, especially anyone lining up for their first one, that multi-month training cycle is the first real test. The mileage, weekly repeats, pre-dawn early mornings, aches that never quite disappear. Doing it again and again and again for months on end while work, family, other responsibilities, and everything else in life continues to require your time, attention and energy. It’s where people can break down physically, mentally and emotionally long before race day ever arrives.

And let’s be honest, it should be hard. Less than 1% of the world’s population has ever finished a marathon, and that number alone tells you what kind of undertaking this is. It doesn’t matter if you cross the line in under two hours or it takes you several. Finishing is finishing. It’s one of the most respectable individual physical feats a person can put their name on.

The great thing is, I truly believe almost anyone can do it if they truly want to. (Not everyone can run a fast one, that’s an entirely different conversation, but finishing requires a particular kind of mental toughness shift that only struggles and challenges can mold.) Look around at a marathon and you’ll see people of every shape, size, background, ability, and circumstance, all out there competing against themselves. It’s genuinely inspiring.

And while all the pomp and circumstance around marathon events, especially the World Majors, is absolutely fabulous, the event is about a lot more than negative splits, fueling, hydration, shoes, playlists, tape, and race strategy. All of that matters, and it’s covered extensively by people far more qualified and experienced than I am.

The one common thread every person at the starting line will eventually confront, regardless of pace, training, experience, or performance aspirations, is the battle with themselves. That’s where the race is won or lost.

When It Gets Real

Race day brings you to a humbling realization: this is going to hurt…a lot, it’s not going to be over anytime soon, and ultimately, it’s really just you out there. Yes, the crowds and other runners are out there too, and they, along with early-stage adrenaline, do help. But once those initial surges wane, the miles start stacking up, it gets mundane and more difficult, the realization of it just being you out there sets in.

At some point, your body is beyond depleted, but the bigger problem is that your brain starts wandering into places that don’t help you. How much farther? How much longer? Can I actually finish? That’s when you need a system.

Chunk the distance into manageable pieces: a consistent pace to the next mile marker, water station, or turn. Whatever gets you out of thinking about the whole and back to the next piece. The specific tactic matters less than having one. The macro strategy is even simpler: One foot in front of the other. Keep moving forward. Whatever the pace. Can I finish? has to become I will finish.

For me, mile 16 was the first real shock. You’ve already been running “forever,” then you do the math and realize you still have ten miles left. By mile 20-22, you’re entering territory most first-time training plans never fully expose you to, and those final five or six miles become a legitimate battle of will. The pain and discomfort can be heart wrenching.

One important note: pain and injury are not the same thing. Marathons are supposed to hurt. That’s different from something actually being wrong. Know and listen to your body.

Assuming you’re healthy enough to continue, the question gets pretty simple: Will you? Unless you’re genuinely racing the field, this isn’t about beating anyone else. It’s about deciding ahead of time that you’re not going to lose to yourself. Simple to say. Hard as hell to hold onto when your mind and body are pleading with you to stop. But if you honor the commitment you made before you ever toed the starting line, you find a way through.

What 26.2 Miles Teaches You

Running a marathon is more than a physical conquest. It teaches you, or reinforces, principles about life. You don’t need to run a marathon to learn these lessons. There are numerous other ways to do so, and many of the people who sign up for one, myself included, have already developed or become acutely aware of life principles in other arenas. However, marathons directly puts those principles in the spotlight through physical manifestation. They teach or remind you that hard things can be great for you, and that they become more manageable when you stop trying to solve the whole thing at once. You learn to run your own race, letting go of what you cannot control and focusing on the next step forward, one at a time.

You also learn how powerful your mind is. It can help you do seemingly impossible things or keep you from getting started, and it can fundamentally change how you live and view life. During the race, your mind will often negotiate against you long before your body is actually done, magnifying the distance left, the pain, or any other reason to stop. Part of the challenge is learning not to believe every thought that shows up when things get hard or suck. Your perceived limits are not always your actual limits. You can learn to embrace the hard and, in many cases welcome it. Progress does not always feel good while it is happening, and discomfort does not always mean you should stop. In fact, those signals often mean you’re in a metamorphosis of self. Shedding your old self into a stronger, better version in a remarkable butterfly season.

Getting through 26.2 miles changes your perspective. You understand what it feels like to keep moving when the finish still seems impossibly far away, and to battle yourself in mind, body, and spirit yet come out on the other side stronger. When you realize no one is coming to save you and only you can overcome you, but you do it anyway, something radically changes. Those lessons reach far beyond running. Yes, a marathon is unquestionably a physical challenge, but so much of the battle happens between your ears. The finish line marks the end of the race, while the mindset you’ve built along the journey carries into the rest of your life.

Congratulations to all the Marathoners out there and best of luck to all our future ones!

– Keith