Last year, I signed up for the San Francisco Marathon but didn’t end up running it. Life got in the way and I started school. This year, I signed up again, not just to run 26.2 miles, but to finish something I didn’t get to complete last year.
Training officially started in January, though “training” might be a stretch. I ran maybe once or twice a week, slow and short. It wasn’t until April that things got serious. I began following a Nike Run Club plan more consistently and joined a friend in a series of monthly mileage challenges. 25 miles in January, then 30, 62, 62 again, 90, and eventually 100 in June. We kept each other accountable as the milage rose moth after month. Yes, there were some months where I didn’t think I was going to make the goal number, but there was no way I was going to fall short, especially if it was only by a few miles. There were weeks were instead of running a longer milage run, I would do a few one-milers, haha.
Then came July and things seemed to be backsliding. I was back on the East Coast, battling heat, humidity, a school schedule, rain and thnderstorms, and a move. Most of my runs were short or on a treadmill. By the time race weekend arrived, I was nervous. I didn’t feel fully prepared. But I reminded myself that I could always walk if I had to.
The night before the race, I carbo-loaded and had an ideal evening; eating crab linguini, steak, broccolini, garlic bread, homemade fries, and cupcakes, all while watching Topgun: Maverick for some motivation. By 5:15am the next morning, I was at the start line in the dark, cold, and misty air, thinking: Welp, this is it.
5:15am start for me and thousands of others on July 27, 2025.
And so it began.
Raw-dogging the first 21?!
I made a choice at the start, no music. I wanted to be fully immersed and present. Just me, the city, and the rhythm of footsteps repetitively hitting the pavement. To my surprise, I lasted without music until mile 21, woah.
The early miles felt good. Running across the Golden Gate Bridge was surreal. The cold wind and mist felt like Karl was testing me. To my surprise, the hill that led back across the Golden Gate Bridge was a doozy, but a doable one. I remember hitting mile 13 half way across the bridge back into San Francisco and thinking to myself, “this is anti-climactic, this is the half way point!” Nonetheless, I still felt strong. But right before mile 16, the weight of what I was doing began to settle in. A friend spotted me around mile 16 with a popcicle in hand. I was grateful.
And then came the last 10 miles.
The Weird Thoughts That Carry You Through
In those last miles, I had some weird thoughts. Why was my right shoelace tighter than my left? Was that orange slice from a stranger safe to eat? Why was the energy gel I tried so offensively sweet? Why am I doing this again?
But mixed into those thoughts were others. Look at that view. Wow, I’ve never walked on this street before. I haven’t stopped once, even on the hills. I’m still going.
And I did keep going. I didn’t walk on a single hill (even if my “jog” barely counted). I only walked while sipping water and electrolytes at the aid stations sprinkled along the course. I beat my goal time by a few minutes, and for the first time, I had friends waiting for me at the finish line. That moment? Unforgettable.
More Than Just a Race
This wasn’t just a marathon. It was a mental and emotional test. It reminded me that I can do hard things, even when I don’t feel ready, even when things get derailed. Things don’t always have to be perfect.
Not every training run went well. Some I had to abandon midway. Some I didn’t even want to start. But I kept showing up, one run at a time. That persistence added up to something I can be proud of.
Running and training for a marathon is unlike anything else. Everyone’s experience is different. I mean, in my case, I “raw-dogged” the first 21 miles without music, had a rock in my shoe, and couldn’t see my pace because my watch wouldn’t sync with my phone. It’s not just about mileage. It’s about everything else, too.
People often forget that running is a competition with yourself. You’re not racing the people around you. Everyone starts at different times, everyone has their own pace and their own struggles. You might feel strong while someone else is struggling, or you might be falling apart while someone else is flying. You never really know. One thing is forsure, no matter how many races you’ve run, your body feels every single one of those miles after awhile. When you see someone having a hard time on the course (because you are probably feeling the same way too), give them a litte encouragement. It goes a long way, and probably means more than hearing a spectator shouting it.
The Last 1.2 Miles
There comes a point towards the end where you get re-energized becuase you are so close. For me, this was during the last 1.2 miles. I remember running up on the Chase Center and seeing the Bay Bridge. I knew the finish line was at the Ferry Building, but didn't know exactly how far past the Bay Bridge that was going to be. Running towards such a huge monument and realizing the end was near gave me the last push that I needed. Right before I crossed, I saw a friend, gave him a high-five, and then pushed just a little bit harder to reach the end. At that point I couldn’t wait to cross, not because I was elated to finish, but because I couldn’t wait for it to be over. As I crossed the finish line, the clock read 5:10:38, I was so relieved that I finished with an actual time of 4:48:07.
Yes, I am sore today. Yes, I ate my weight in food and took a glorious nap yesterday afternoon. But more than anything, I am proud that I stuck it out and finished, despite all of the complaining that happened during each phase of training and running.
26.2 miles. No shortcuts. Just me, one step at a time.
xoxo,E
