Marathon Lessons: Trusting the Journey When Things Don’t Go as Planned.
Just when I thought I had my marathon path figured out, life threw me a curveball.
Since January, I have been laser-focused on one thing: training for the Boston Marathon 2025. I had my training plan, a goal, and a coveted VIP bib—courtesy of a connection through a friend. Hmmmm. It felt like an incredible opportunity, one of those meant-to-be moments. But deep down, something did not feel right. I pushed that feeling aside, believing the stars had aligned.
And then, just as I hit my peak training weeks—logging 19-mile runs, prioritizing strength, nutrition, and sleep—the news came. The bib was gone. The opportunity vanished. Boston 2025 wasn’t happening for me.
I won’t sugarcoat it: it hurt.
I cried. I wasn’t mad, just disappointed. Three months of focused effort, of waking up early, running in the dark, structuring my days around Boston—suddenly, it felt like it was for nothing.
And then the self-doubt came screaming in:
"You should have known better."
"Why didn’t you listen to your gut?"
"Who do you think you are, a VIP?"
This is a blow, a setback, for me. But here’s the thing about marathons—and life. Setbacks seem to be the norm versus the exception. Injuries, work, family crisis, the list goes on…I’m thinking a lot about this. Are they the end of the story or plot twists?
I’ve always believed in setting audacious goals. Five years ago, I set out to run the Abbott Six World Major Marathons before I turned sixty. I’m four down—New York, Berlin, Chicago, London. That leaves Tokyo and Boston, the two hardest to get into. I officially time-qualified for Boston - but for 2026 last September in Chicago. Huge win. And I plan to run Tokyo in 2026 with the American Cancer Society Team DetermiNation, a cause that means so much to me.
So, no, my dream isn’t over. The timeline shifted. The stakes changed - thanks to my 6X60 goal with two 2026 six weeks apart. Oh boy.
Pivoting with Purpose: Finding a New Race
Fast forward to the present. A friend asked if I’d run a different marathon in April instead. Honestly, I hadn’t considered it—I was so locked in on Boston that anything else felt like a consolation prize. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized: why not? Why not find another race, stay the course, and keep my training momentum?
So, I asked my coach for guidance. She helped me step back and reflect—not just on picking a race, but on what would actually serve me best right now with timing and the course as the biggest factors. She suggested options in Rhode Island, Maine, Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Illinois—courses that aligned with my goals and ability. I won’t lie—seeing Scranton, PA and Toledo, OH on the list instead of Boston, MA stung – a lot. No big crowds. No city-wide energy. No music blasting at the start. No Abbott World Majors star. Just me, running long miles, digging deep in my own head, figuring out what I’ve got when no one is watching. It’s a different kind of challenge—more personal, more mental. And yeah, I don’t know exactly how it’ll go.
But I do know this: I’ve landed on the Jim Thorpe Marathon in Pennsylvania. A running teammate vouched for it—scenic, well-organized, a point-to-point course along a cinder rail trail - I do love softer surfaces. Most importantly, it’s a Boston Qualifier, so if I run stronger than past races, I improve my odds even more. But more than anything, it keeps me running. Keeps me moving forward.
And right now, THAT feels right.
It’s About the Journey.
I’ve come to realize that the marathon—the real marathon—is not just 26.2 miles on race day. It’s the months of training, the early mornings, the resilience built mile by mile. It’s the family who check in, friends who run the long runs with me, the coach who helps you reset, the way you learn to pivot when things don’t go as planned. It's personal growth.
Yes, I’m disappointed I won’t be at the Boston start line this April with my friends. But I am learning that this journey isn’t about one race. It’s about pushing myself, learning, growing, and yes, even failing along the way.
So here I am. Still training. Still learning. Still committed. And still loving the process.
If something doesn’t feel right, pay attention. Your gut knows.
Set a goal and go for it.
And when you need to pivot, pivot.
Because the race isn’t just about the finish line. It’s about everything that happens on the way there.
Thanks for being on this journey with me.
Onward.
Libby