I’m not ready to say it with absolute certainty, but I think the London Marathon may have been my last full marathon. The decision isn’t final, but the idea has been settling in quietly, the way a truth sometimes does long before you’re willing to say it out loud. I’ve already decided that when I’m in Kenya, I’ll be switching from the full marathon to the half — and honestly, that feels right.
What makes this harder is that my training leading up to London was incredible. One of my best cycles ever. I felt strong, consistent, and genuinely excited. I went into race day hoping for something special.
And in many ways, the day was special.
I started in the Team Green area, which felt like a little oasis before the chaos of the race. Hot tea, picnic tables, no bathroom lines — it was the calmest, most civilized marathon start I’ve ever experienced. I soaked it in, feeling grateful and ready.
The first ten-plus miles were everything I hoped for. My pace felt smooth, my legs felt good, and I was enjoying the energy around me. But then the heat crept in, and my fueling just didn’t keep up. By mile 15, things started to unravel. I was still enjoying the run, but my body wasn’t responding the way I needed it to. I had to walk big portions of the second half, and eventually I couldn’t take in any more food. Even water had to be taken in tiny sips.
Still, I made a choice: if I was going to finish, I wanted to finish strong. So I ran the last few miles, lifted my head, and crossed the line with a smile. And that smile was real. Despite everything, I genuinely enjoyed most of the race.
As for injuries? Nothing dramatic — just a sunburn, a few blisters, and one very bruised pinky toe. Honestly, that feels like a win.
So maybe London was my last marathon. Maybe it wasn’t. But if it was, I’m glad it was this one. A race that challenged me, humbled me, and still gave me joy. A race that reminded me why I started running in the first place — and why it’s okay to let the definition of “runner” evolve.
For now, I’m looking ahead to Kenya, to the half marathon, and to whatever comes next. Maybe the marathon chapter is closing. Maybe it’s just changing shape. Either way, I’m grateful for every mile.










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