My longest runs before this were a 15k and a single half marathon. I finished this marathon in 6 hours, which isn’t exactly setting records for my age group. It is akin to going to a party and realizing that everyone is almost about to leave. This post isn’t advice; it’s just my story, plain and simple.

Why This Madness? Signing Up for the Impossible

There’s a peculiar kind of energy I get after pushing through something genuinely hard. Whether it’s grueling coding sessions, hours wrestling with Spanish lessons, or running further than I thought possible. Conquering a challenge makes me feel like I can do anything. It builds mental endurance, a tolerance for discomfort that spills over into other parts of life. Plus, as a kid, I used to have nightmares about not being able to run, so maybe I’m just exorcising old demons.

After finishing my first half marathon in August 2024 – a painful but fantastic experience largely thanks to the encouragement of my friend Shantanu – he planted the seed: “Why not go for full marathon now?”

I thought about it and figured, sure, why not. The idea was initially tied to other goals: regaining peak fitness, imposing discipline around diet, workouts, stress, and sleep, maybe even getting leaner. Preparing for a marathon seemed like a structured path to becoming a better version of myself.

Of course, running 26.2 miles (42.195 kilometers) is notoriously difficult. It’s a feat accomplished by only a tiny fraction of the world’s population, a true test of physical and mental limits. So, naturally, despite having none of the recommended preparation under my belt, I signed up for the Eugene Marathon.

The Road Not (Really) Taken: My “Preparation”

Let’s be honest, my “preparation” was laughable. After the August half marathon, life happened. Buying a home in October meant moving chaos, followed by travels and the Pacific Northwest cold and rain, effectively sidelining any running until late December.

I remember being on a trip to Guatemala in December 2024, sketching out ambitious running plans. None materialized. By mid-February 2025, I managed a few sporadic treadmill runs. My motivation has plummeted. Weight training, a regular habit last year, fell by the wayside amidst excuses.

Then, a couple of glimmers of hope:

• Late March: An 8-mile walk/run.
• Three weeks before the marathon: A 15k race at Birch Bay. This was a shock – I felt surprisingly good. I felt conditioned enough that day where I felt like I could keep on running and complete half marathon at ease.
• During a trip to Florida: Managed two 3-mile runs and a 10-mile walk.
• Marathon week: A single 2-mile run.

That was it. My grand plan for peak fitness? Replaced by the reality of being in arguably the worst shape I’d been in for four years.

The Long Drive and Pre-Race Jitters

The Friday before the race, enthusiasm was low. I’d just returned from a trip and craved a relaxing weekend, not a 5-hour drive to Eugene for an event I felt destined to fail. While I was not contemplating bailing out, a call from Shantanu arrived. He told that he has suffered an injury during his recent run but he would still like to go ahead and give the race a shot.

Alright, let’s go.

Maybe I could salvage the drive by listening to an audiobook? The drive itself from Seattle was pleasant – it was a beautiful spring day. A stop at the farmers market in Vancouver, WA, unexpectedly lifted my spirits.

My focus shifted: now I wanted to make the best of the weekend, no matter what happens during the run the next day.

Carb-loading and hydration began in earnest: Mexican food, Indian food – rice, beans, and gallons of water. I was peeing every hour.

Reaching Eugene, the pre-race expo was another mood booster. I expected heavy traffic and parking chaos. To my surprise, there was neither traffic nor parking issues.

Picking up my bib felt official.

It was the first time I attended such running expo. Booths offered free samples, CPR demos – a buzzing atmosphere of anticipation. Experiencing new things excites me, and this definitely qualified.

But back in the hotel room around 8 pm, reality crashed down. Immense regret washed over me. Despite the earlier excitement, I knew I was severely underprepared. Every online source, every AI chatbot, screamed “Don’t do it! Risk of injury!” I wished desperately I had trained properly. My mind also drifted to other goals I’d set for the year, many unmet. Why was I falling short? Anger at my own lack of follow-through simmered.

The self hatred was making my eyes heavy.

After figuring out the next day’s parking and shuttle logistics, I tried to sleep by 8 PM.

Race Day Dawns: Hayward Field Energy

Sleep was surprisingly good. Woke up at 4 am, reached the shuttle bus station by 6 am. The air felt cool, but it turned out to be perfect running weather once the body warmed up. The 45 degree weather didn’t feel as cold with so many runners and spectators cheering for each other.

And then, Hayward Field. Wow. The place is legendary (shoutout to Phil Knight’s Shoe Dog!). The sheer number of people, the palpable energy – it was electric, a stark contrast to smaller races. Any lingering regret evaporated, replaced by a tentative, growing thought: Maybe… maybe I could actually do this? I’ve done half marathon in similar fashion. I had a good sleep. I feel good right now…if I keep my chin up, I could complete marathon perhaps?

The Unfolding 26.2: Mile by Mile (Sort Of)

The race started. The course was mostly flat, winding through the city and along the river. The latest finish time allowed was 7 hours, requiring a minimum pace of about 16 minutes per mile.

Miles 0-5: The Honeymoon Phase

The first mile felt comfortable, pace around 12 minutes/mile. Second mile, same. Third mile had a small hill, still fine. My confidence in finishing crept up to maybe 50%. By the 5k mark (3.1 miles), I was feeling good. Too good? To preempt the inevitable pain, I popped a Tylenol. This felt like the point of no return. A switch flipped in my head. Okay, Darpan, you’re doing this. No giving up. My self-motivation kicked in. Focus on the next mile marker. Focus on the finish. I pictured a new person in my life (Hi Catie!) cheering at the finish line. How proud would she be?

Lets make her proud. You have what it takes. You cannot give up now.

Miles 5-13.1: Reality Bites

Around mile 7, panic started to set in. I hadn’t brought my own energy gels (GU), foolishly not believing I’d get this far. The aid stations at miles 4 and 6 were out of gels. My energy was tanking.

I became so desperate I started scanning the ground for discarded, unopened gel packets. Yes, really. Finally, at mile 8, salvation! They had gels. I grabbed four. With fuel secured and legs still feeling okay, my mental state soared. No backing out now unless I physically break.

Famous last words. Around mile 11, my left knee started sending familiar warning signals. Back in 2021 I’d injured it before on a downhill trail run, costing me two months of activity.

I did not want to repeat the 2021.

I immediately stopped running continuously. My strategy shifted: run maybe 0.1-0.2 miles, then walk until the pain subsided. Any longer run brought sharp pain under the kneecap.

Despite the knee, I crossed the half marathon mark (13.1 miles) under 2 hours 45 minutes. I had plenty left in the tank otherwise. Confidence surged again, hitting 99%. Even just walking, I could finish well under the 7-hour limit, probably closer to 6:30. The focus changed: finish slow, finish injury-free, and try to enjoy it.

I almost texted Catie in excitement but stopped myself.

Focus. No premature celebrations.

Miles 13.1-20: The Walking Distraction

This part became strangely fun. With no time pressure, I settled into a rhythm: run till it hurts, walk it off. This gave me time. I chatted with ChatGPT about marathon history (learning Gatorade was named for the University of Florida Gators). I put on my “Rock On!!” playlist and sang along (apologies to nearby runners). I even spent 15 minutes trying to learn some Malayalam phrases on my phone.

Then, around mile 17, I hit the wall. Hard. That infamous point where glycogen stores deplete. I felt lightheaded, like I might black out – a feeling I recognized from past intense workouts. I immediately slowed my walk.

Okay, no more running. At all.

The gels tasted like sugary paste, but I choked them down like medicine. Another Tylenol for good measure. Slowly, the blackout feeling subsided. New focus: You’re two-thirds done. Just walk and the miles will come fast enough.

Miles 20-26.2: The Final Grind

Walking became a slog. Even long strides hurt. But then, the 24-mile marker appeared. My watch read 5:32. With only 2.2 miles left I realized that if I push hard enough I can complete under 6 hours.

I screwed the pain. Pain became secondary. The finish line was approaching and I have to make it under six hours.

I started running again, ignoring the knee screaming in protest. Run until it felt like bone might pierce muscle, walk briefly, run again. My pace quickened from a slow walk back to maybe a 13-minute mile. The energy from other runners pushing for the finish was contagious.

Turning the final corner, seeing the stadium just half a mile away… adrenaline flooded my system. Pain vanished (temporarily).

I. Just. Ran.

I don’t remember much about that last stretch except the single-minded focus on crossing the line inside Hayward Field. Shantanu was there for me, waiting for over 1 hr as he had finished the race in 5 hr 10 mins.

I finished.

6 hr 6 minutes.

I celebrated with Abhishek (another friend who came along) and Shantanu. This wouldn’t have happened without them.

Finish Line Euphoria (and Disbelief)

It slowly dawned on me.

Did I really just wake up one day and run a marathon? A wave of intense self-belief washed over me. Darpan, if you can do this, you can do anything.

Yes, there was pain, but surprisingly less than after the half marathon. Maybe the Tylenol worked wonders?

The Aftermath: Robots, Rice, and Recovery

We ubered back to my car. Shantanu and Abhishek were probably amused by my post-race shuffle.

Hunger did not kick in until after couple of hours after the race. But when it hit – it hit super hard. I was craving for so much food that I’d eat anything available in the car. We decided to stop at Chipotle in Portland.

Getting out at Chipotle to order food was comical; we must have looked drunk trying to walk normally. We walked – correction – crawled in the store. Although I am certain that the time I took to finish eating the bowl was one of my fastests ever.

Remember the audiobook plan? Yeah, that didn’t happen. Maybe another time.

Back home around 9 pm, despite the exhaustion, I felt a creative spark. I’d been lazy about posting on Instagram lately. Well, I just ran a marathon, let’s not be lazy today. I shared my experience, hoping it might inspire someone, or at least make my mom happy (or confused).

Her reaction later: “Why run 42 km? Keep your legs safe for better things! Why can’t you run 1 or 2 kms? Why do you like to hurt yourself?” Gotta love moms.

The next day? Pain. My lower body, especially my knees, screamed. Stairs were torture. This wasn’t new – similar to the half marathon aftermath. I was ravenously hungry and thirsty all day, consuming mountains of carbs. Hot showers helped immensely. Cold showers? Nah, Seattle’s cold enough.

I am writing this line 3 days after the marathon. While the pain hasn’t fully gone yet, I am able to walk mostly fine. Knees hurt a little but life’s back to normal otherwise.

No fancy recovery was needed after all.

Looking Back: Lessons from the Unexpected

What Could I Have Done Better?

Prep. Simple as that. The biggest regret is not training properly. It would have made the experience far more enjoyable and less risky. That pre-race anger at myself for letting goals slide felt validated. This run hammered home the need to follow through.

What Went Well?

• Some Prep is Better Than None: Those few runs, the 15k, the 10-mile walk, general activity like badminton – it all contributed something.
• Mindset: Once I passed that 5k mark, my mindset was locked in. False confidence? Maybe. But the decision not to quit held firm.
• Gear: Thankfully, my gear was flawless. Nothing chafed, rubbed, or failed. I am fortunate to be able to afford good gear and it made a difference by allowing me to focus on the run itself and not worrying about the external factors. Below is what I had:
  • Shoes: ON Cloudstratus
  • Apparel: ON Running T-shirt
  • Watch: Apple Watch Ultra
  • Headphones: AirPods Pro 2

To Anyone Thinking About Running

I can’t offer technical training advice.

But if someone like me, unprepared, can stumble across the finish line, maybe you’re capable of more than you think. I didn’t realize the mental strength I had until I was forced to use it. Don’t necessarily follow my training plan (or lack thereof) – injury is a real risk, and it’s not fun. But don’t let self-doubt stop you from trying hard things. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger… or maybe just stupider. The jury’s still out on me.

The running community is also positive. Spectators out on the race were cheering up with funny card boards, water, drinks or even beer.

The race experience should be experienced once. You don’t need to run a marathon for it. A simple 5k run would work well.