Why I Signed Up
After qualifying for the Boston Marathon twice in 2024 but missing the acceptance cutoff by just 2.5 minutes, I needed a new goal. When I learned that several members of my South Florida running groups were planning to run the 50th Marine Corps Marathon (MCM), I spontaneously registered—on July 4th, no less—giving me just 16 weeks to train.
I had no idea what I was getting into. I was told it was “a little hilly,” but I didn’t care. The goal was clear: train smart, give it my all, and maybe—just maybe—qualify for Boston again.
Training in the Florida Heat
Training through Florida’s brutal summer heat is its own form of toughness training. Every long run felt like a test of will. But the physical challenge was only half the story.
What most people didn’t know was that I had been dealing with chronic foot pain for years, but it worsened leading up to the race. A visit to a podiatrist confirmed what I feared: severe plantar fasciitis that led to heel spurs and calcifications in both feet. Running had become painful, especially during long runs and after standing for long periods. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to back off. I was determined to train smart, adjust my workouts, and rely heavily on rehab strategies my podiatrist recommended. These included icing my feet after every run, massaging Voltaren cream on the soles and heels three times a day, lots of stretching and strengthening exercises, wearing a brace at night, and getting custom orthotic shoe inserts.
Despite being a coach and knowing better, I sometimes pushed too hard. But I listened when I had to. My goal wasn’t just to run fast—it was to make it to the start line strong enough to finish.
Race Day: From Hotel to Corrals
I stayed at the Courtyard Marriott in Crystal City — highly recommend. It was clean, convenient, and just blocks from the runner’s shuttle. My friend Vienna and I grabbed coffee from the lobby and boarded the shuttle buses around 5:15 a.m. The ride to the Pentagon was smooth and efficient, just like everything else about the pre-race activities. We walked about a half mile from the buses to the security checkpoint, where there were no lines and friendly marines checked the contents of our race bags.
We walked a few more steps to reach the Runner’s Village around 5:45 a.m. and were greeted by an ocean of porta-potties (with no lines, for once!) and a massive open-air lot. Renee, one of our other group members, handed out hand warmers (it was 40 degrees) while we stretched on the pavement. There wasn’t much to do at that point except “hurry up and wait” so we just tried to keep warm and stay limber.
The Start Line
Around 7 AM, I dropped my bag off at the UPS truck labelled for my race number, followed the masses, and walked another half-mile to my corral. Just before 7:20 a.m., the Marines fired a howitzer cannon to officially start the race. I was in the yellow wave and crossed the start line twelve minutes after the first runners started, full of nerves and adrenaline. I hit “start” on my Garmin watch and was off! (For the record, despite there being so many runners for this 50th anniversary event, the race start procedures were smooth and easy. No complaints at all!)
The first two miles were tough—especially the 250-foot gradual climb that felt endless, especially for someone who trains in pancake-flat South Florida! But the next two miles? Downhill bliss. Running down Sprout Run Parkway along the Potomac River gave me a glimpse of autumn with changing leaves that I have missed since moving to Florida from Boston more than 30 years ago. It was beautiful! I held back to protect my quads, but it was hard not to fly. I will admit, I was running well-ahead of my goal pace for most of this two-mile section.
You see my goal was a sub-4:20 finish, which would qualify me for Boston again. I knew only about 4% of MCM runners qualify at this race, so I was realistic. But I was going to try.
Miles 4–12: Bridges, Hills, and the Blue Mile
Crossing the Key Bridge over the Potomac toward Georgetown was beautiful and energizing, with crowds lining the streets of the historic, trendy college town. The energy was electrifying! Then came a long out-and-back stretch around Mile 6, nearly two miles in each direction. On the way out, I felt like I was running downhill, which was a great feeling; however, the whole time I was running, I was concerned about having to run uphill all the way back. When I made the turnaround and braced myself for more uphill pain and anguish, a strange thing happened: it felt like I was going downhill again. I can’t explain it, but I was relieved to say the least!
At mile 12, we started running toward Hains Point. This is truly the emotional heart of the course: The Blue Mile. Photos of fallen soldiers lined the road for the entire mile. Towards the end, Gold Star families stood, holding American flags on either side, cheering the runners on. I was grounded in gratitude. In that moment, I said a silent prayer for my brother, whom I lost earlier this year, and for friend Hilary’s husband Jan, whom she lost not long before that, and dedicated running this mile for them. I wanted to take a picture of the scene before me. However, the intimacy and the solemnity of the occasion made it clear that this wasn’t the time or place for me to do so.
I also made a tactical error here—opting for a public restroom off-course because it looked “nice” and I saw other runners coming out of it. The detour cost me precious time, and in hindsight, wasn’t worth it.
Miles 13–19: Monuments and Moments
The rest of the run back up Hains Point was flat, quiet, and surprisingly easy. Miles 15 to 17 took us close to the Tidal Basin past the back side of the Jefferson Memorial, then over a bridge toward the Washington Monument. I remember looking at all of the buildings along the route, and at one point, I saw the impressive Bureau of Printing and Engraving on my right. Why do I remember this? Because here, again, was a cruelly placed, long uphill! Ugh! When I got close to the Washington Monument for the second time, I had to stop to take a quick photo—it was just too stunning not to. Then it was on to the National Mall, lined with thousands of cheering spectators. Just as I rounded the Capitol building, I heard my friend Stephanie calling my name. I stopped for a hug and a photo. It gave me a much-needed lift.
Mile 20: Beat the Bridge (and the Cramps)
Approaching the 14th Street Bridge, I aimed to refill my 10-oz water bottle at the water refilling stations they set up for this purpose, since I had already drained it. What I didn’t know was that to be able to access the water stations, you had to divert to the left as soon as you got onto the bridge, which I did not do. To be able to reach them if you didn’t divert meant having to climb over thigh-high concrete barriers. After running twenty miles, I knew this would be risky. I chose a spot to climb over and very gingerly lifted both legs over, being extremely careful not to overly contract any muscles in my legs for fear of cramping. I successfully made it over and proceeded to fill my bottle with cool, refreshing water!
As I was turning to leave, however, I heard a woman cry out in pain—“Help me, please, somebody help me!”
She had tried to climb the same barrier and both her legs cramped violently—quads, hamstrings, and calves locked up. She was stuck on top of the concrete, teetering precariously, unable to move, visibly in agony. If she fell onto the road, her legs would surely crumble beneath her, and her hopes of finishing after putting in all of that effort would be shattered. Since she was asking for help, I dropped what I was doing and ran to her. Another runner arrived at the same time, and together we helped guide her down, supporting her weight so she wouldn’t fall. She started going down and it was hard to lift her up but a third runner chipped in and the three of us kept her on her feet. She thanked us tearfully and told us to go.
It cost me a few minutes, but in that moment, it wasn’t about me. It was about being the runner I hoped someone else would be if it were me on that barrier.
Miles 21–26: The Home Stretch
Miles 22 and 23 wound through Crystal City — tight, cobblestone streets with many turns and spilled water cups everywhere. The three-mile out-and-back on this section felt particularly grueling with another one of those “Am I going uphill or downhill?” sensations that I couldn’t quite figure out! It felt endless. But for me, the worst was yet to come.
The last few miles took us on a stretch of highway back north toward the Pentagon near the start line. To say that my feet were on fire from the double plantar fasciitis would have been a major understatement. Each step was more excruciating than the previous one. I have never wanted to finish a race so badly as this one! Around Mile 26, we took a left and I braced myself for what was coming. That legendary final climb: a steep hill up a driveway that led to the US Marine Corps War Memorial, better known as the Iwo Jima Memorial. I walked around ten steps to summon up as much energy as I could, and I started running up what felt like a 2-3 minute climb. Marines lined the hill shouting encouragement: “You got this, ma’am!” and “Get up the hill!”
I gave it all I had.
The Finish Line Experience
At the finish, Marines handed out medals, snacks, and a beautiful 50th Anniversary fleece blanket. That moment when a Marine placed the medal around my neck? Absolutely unforgettable.
The post-race experience, however, was total chaos. I hate to say it because the rest of the race was such a terrific experience, but there was no way to meet up with anyone afterwards. I was essentially alone. It was shoulder-to-shoulder packed with runners, hard to navigate, and cell service was nonexistent. Still, the post-race energy was high, and the photos speak for themselves.
Final Results
- Finish Time: 4:24:25
- Pace: 10:06 min/mile
- Overall: 10,260 of 30,647 (Top 33% of ALL runners)
- Female: 3,130 of 12,615 (Top 25% of all females)
- Division: 39 of 446 (Top 12% of age-group)
No Boston this time. But…
🌟 I Qualified for the 2026 NYC Marathon!
That alone makes this race a win.
Advice for Future MCM Runners
- Train for hills especially if you live somewhere flat.
- Book early — Crystal City hotels are ideal.
- Pack extra layers and hand warmers for the start if it’s forecasted to be cold.
- Use the on-course porta-potties — detours for park bathrooms cost time.
- Stay hydrated, and examine the course map ahead of time so you know where the water stops are.
- Embrace the Blue Mile. Let it change you.
- Save something for the final hill. Trust me.
Final Reflection
I came. I climbed. I conquered.
The Marine Corps Marathon isn’t just a race. It’s a reminder of resilience, a celebration of freedom, and a tribute to those who serve. I didn’t get the time I hoped for, but I left with something better:
Pride. Perspective. And a story worth telling.
Keep running to the beat!
I LOVE the backstory. Makes the victory all the sweeter. This is my favorite line: “It cost me a few minutes, but in that moment, it wasn’t about me. It was about being the runner I hoped someone else would be if it were me on that barrier.”