Not that long ago, marathons (at least in my mind) were reserved for those I considered “real” runners—the genetically blessed, hyper-disciplined ones who collected shiny medals and enjoyed waking up at 5 a.m. Me? I couldn’t even make it through a single song without giving up, let alone going for hours and calling that “fun.”
Then, I turned 25.
I was still young (everyone reminded me of that), but also old enough to feel the pressure to “have it all together.” A steady job. A stable relationship. A clear sense of where your adult years are going. And when you don’t? That gnawing “WTF am I doing with my life?” panic often kicks in—which I’ve wrestled with plenty because, well, I wasn’t engaged (and spoiler alert, won’t be anytime soon). I couldn’t confidently answer what my dream “job” or “next step” was. To this day, I share a dingy bathroom with a roommate. (Obviously, I have plenty of time to sort all of these things out, but still—society has a funny way of making young adults feel perpetually behind.)
So like any dissatisfied 20-something, I desperately grasped at whatever might offer some semblance of control and progress, which included a few clichés (cutting my bangs and flirting with the idea of grad school). Eventually, I decided that by the time I turned 27, I would have run the New York City Marathon—even though, yep, I had never run before (well, except to catch a subway).
Apparently, I’m far from alone. The couch-to-marathon pipeline has quickly become the trendy quarter-life crisis among my generation. You may have seen suddenly enthusiastic Gen Z’ers on TikTok, making running their new, improved personality or turning run clubs into the ultimate social (and dating) hot spot. This isn’t just a fleeting online fad, however: According to the New York Road Runners, more than 12,000 20-somethings signed up for the NYC Marathon in 2024—a notable jump from 9,987 in 2023 and 8,039 in 2022.
“A 5K isn’t enough anymore,” Salina Grilli, LCSW, founder of Manhattan Modern Psychotherapy, tells SELF. “A lot of young people are going straight to the marathon. It’s a big, lofty goal. It’s different. It’s special. A half marathon’s great, but it doesn’t have the uniqueness of saying you ran a full marathon.”
That said, committing to 26.2 miles isn’t only about scoring bragging rights or curated finish-line photos. As cliché as it sounds, it really is about the journey. When I first started training, I could barely make it through half a mile. Now I’m clocking 35-plus miles a week, with two half-marathons under my belt. My average pace has gone from 12 minutes to eight. And perhaps most importantly, I actually look forward to lacing up my sneakers right after an exhausting day at work.
Regardless of your experience, impulsive marathon training, I’d argue, is one of the most rewarding, life-changing ways to shut down nagging doubts—let me convince you why.
1. An expensive, high-stakes marathon is the ultimate accountability hack.
No soul-searching journey to answer “Who am I?” is without a string of abandoned passion projects. I’ve had my own fair share—starting a beauty blog (that lasted a month), deciding to become a reformer Pilates gal (that didn’t stick either), the list goes on.
Running, at first, was a part of that cycle too. The promise of its very legit health benefits was quickly overshadowed by classic excuses and my “Eh, I’ll do it tomorrow!” attitude. But nothing gets you to stick with a goal quite like registering for a coveted, once-a-year marathon that, for one, is notoriously difficult to even sign up for. (To get into the NYC one, for example, you either need a super speedy finishing time—which, shocker, I didn’t have—to raise thousands of dollars for a charity, run nine qualifying races the year before, or take your chances with a highly selective lottery that has a less-than-3% acceptance rate.)
That’s not all. Once you’re in, you still have to pay a hefty $300 registration fee months before. So the cost, effort, and sheer difficulty of even earning a spot make the idea of backing out unthinkable, providing the kind of accountability I need to follow through far more effectively than an elusive goal like “getting in shape.”
2. Marathon training provides built-in structure when life is falling apart.
For so long, my life seemed to follow a linear path: Graduate. Get a job. Maybe settle down. Then…what? Without straightforward benchmarks of “progress,” I was left to figure out the trajectory of my future by myself—which is equal parts liberating and disorienting.
Oddly enough, running became the only thing to give me the discipline to work toward something, but in a way that wasn’t so rigid or pressure-inducing. Marathon training, by design, is a step-by-step process: You need some sort of plan to make it through 26.2 miles, whether you’re leisurely jogging twice a week and gradually upping the mileage as you like or following a strict 20-week regimen packed with intense tempo runs and long-distance days. And unlike so many parts of life that feel open-ended, powering through hours of sweaty cardio comes with a clear endpoint—a tangible goal that’s a lot more measurable (and, let’s be honest, attainable) than answering the messy unknowns of a five-year career plan or when to consider having kids.
3. You don’t need much to start running.
Many highly recommended hobbies that are supposed to help you feel good (like yoga, boxing classes, even a standard gym membership) can get expensive—not to mention, are inaccessible if you’re constantly traveling or living somewhere with limited options. Others, frankly, are tough to get into when you’re starting from scratch as an adult. Learning a new language, say, or playing the piano sounds cool, until you realize that getting through the basics can be so overwhelming that you lose steam before even beginning.
Then…there’s running. It doesn’t matter how old you are or where you’re starting: Anyone, regardless of age or experience, can give it a go, as SELF previously reported (even folks in their middle or later years). And part of what makes it so accessible is how little it demands. No specialty supplies (like $80 acrylic canvases or bulky baking equipment hogging space in your kitchen cabinets). No fancy subscriptions or memberships. No need for a certified instructor to guide you through every step. Just a solid pair of sneakers (you don’t actually need the latest $250 super shoe) and whatever outdoor space is at your disposal—a bustling park, a quiet stretch of sidewalk, or even around your block. And if you’re feeling competitive, there are tons of local (and free) 5Ks or even marathons that cost a fraction of what you’d pay in NYC.
4. You don’t have to be “fast” to be accomplished.
For anyone who grew up chasing gold stars, the fear of “being bad” at something can stop you from even trying. In fact, this very mindset initially kept me from hitting the pavement, stepping on a treadmill, or calling myself a casual “runner.” What if I was “too slow”? Was my form terrible? Who will judge me if, God forbid, I stop to walk?
But what I’ve learned is that running (if you let it be) is one of the least competitive sports there is—and no one keeps score the way I thought they would. In the great outdoors, no one’s watching your every move—we’re moving too damn fast to catch more than a glimpse of someone’s posture. No one cares if you’re chugging at a 15-minute pace, whether you post your splits on Strava or keep them to yourself. We’re all too in the zone with our own pace, our own playlist, our own breath.
Once I let go of this outside noise, I was also able to see that “success” can be measured in so many fulfilling ways that have nothing to do with numbers or experience level. Maybe you want to run a little farther or faster than last time, or prove that you can consistently show up every weekend, rain or shine. The only person you’re competing with is yourself.
5. Saying, “I did it” is the most badass way to quiet your doubts.
No matter your finishing time, being able to say, “Yeah, I ran a marathon,” is undeniably huge—a feat that not many people can claim. And in the midst of a heavy existential crisis, sometimes what you need most is to look forward to a super monumental achievement to silence that “I’m not where I thought I’d be by now” voice once and for all.
Training to push through 26.2 miles isn’t just a physical test (though, yes, it’s brutal). Especially for beginners like me, who dove in totally unprepared with zero miles under our belts, the literal finish line represents so much more than just crossing it. “A marathon won’t solve your quarter-life crisis,” Grilli says. “But training for months, day in and day out, can help you see that you’re a lot stronger mentally and emotionally.”
Sure, I still don’t know exactly what’s next in my career or relationship timeline, but at least one thing’s clear: I’m running a damn marathon—and that’s a little victory I can hold onto when everything else in my 20s feels like one big, fat question mark.
Related:
- Is Hitting on Someone at the Gym Always Creepy?
- Do I Get a ‘Better’ Cardio Workout If I Go Faster or Longer?
- I Used to Hate Running. Here’s How I Learned to Actually Enjoy It
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