2026 Los Angeles Marathon, “You vs. You"

It’s just you. You look down at your feet, your shoes are laced up tight. You take one final glance at your phone, but you tuck it away quick, remembering then that nobody’s awake because it’s early—it’s just after 6 am. The calm starts to get replaced then by nerves, anxiety and stress. Did I train enough? Did I train too much? Will I even get across the finish line? Will I hurt myself? How much do I have in me to even do this? It’s cold out, but you know that’s not going to last long. Suddenly, you’ve only got a few more minutes before the race officially kicks off.

There’s so much you learn about yourself while competing in your first marathon. It’s as if each individual mile is itself a battle, mountain, or type of adversity that’s been uniquely placed there just for you. Each mile is there to remind or even teach you something about yourself after you push through it. But, just as in life, the second you overcome one battle, it’s time to start running as hard as you can into the next. There’s nothing but open road, inclines, beating heat and miles and miles ahead. You look down and decide to dig in.

For me, that first mile was one of the scariest of them all. You take off and your heart starts to race from the excitement. It pounds in your chest. Everything moves so quickly then, and before you know it, you’ve flown through that first mile and you already start to feel a bit winded. You gulp. Panic. You’ve got 25.2 to go.

Finding your groove then, you start to feel that runners flow kick in—I know I did. Miles went down quickly after that. The rhythm of the race, the energy and the morning cool burns off—everything fades into what was once a colorful array of surroundings, into a tunnel of focus, grit, and pavement.

This was one of my favorite parts of the race that day. That calming feeling through miles 6, 7, 8 and 9 where everything fell together quickly and you start to flow. Then, the crowd starts to invigorate and motivate you, pushing you to maintain your speed and pace. Their energy then was palpable. I was soaking up the environment and how unique this all felt even then.

I kept kicking well into miles 13, 14, 15, 16 and 17, but that’s when you start to feel that pain creep in. Then, like an unwelcome surprise dinner guest, that doubt follows shortly after. All the reasons why you can’t and won’t get across that finish line fly in and it really becomes a battle of you vs. you. And it stays that way.

Miles stop moving fast after that, in fact, it becomes quite the opposite. The length, exhaustion, and overall winded feeling you experienced at mile 1 now becomes the feeling through every single remaining mile. I remembered thinking as if from this moment onwards, that every mile until the finish was its own individual marathon. You want more than anything to just stop, but this is where running a marathon really happens. This is the point you’ve worked so hard to get to. Ultimately, this is the fun part.

What do I mean by that? Well, what I mean is that this is where you’re given the chance to tap in to that rarely used reserve tank of energy that’s nearly impossible to ever access throughout regular, day to day, life. It’s that special energy that you can only use for times like this, but it takes gentle care and replenishing throughout years of deliberate practice. All those years of protecting, grinding, integrating and retooling are now kicking in to will you to that finish line. Quickly, you find out how much of that—that special reserve fuel--you even have. And you realize in that moment it’s going to take everything in that tank.

Then, as you push through that finish line, the energy of the other runners and crowd around you carry you in this euphoric sort of float as you arrive to your finishers medal. I remember being nearly weightless then. All the hours of training and prep come rushing in at once, and just like that, you’ve done it. It’s over. It all happens so fast. I felt the entire city of LA with me then.

I have many more races and marathons ahead, but there’s nothing like your first. The energy and encouragement of the community around you is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. LA Marathon 2026, you were a dream. You were an inspiration. I’ll take you with me forever onwards from here. Now, let’s start the prep for the next.

Onto the next mountain,

JD