Tag: Boston

Marathoning: Good, Bad and Ugly

Late April and early May are a wonderful time for fans of marathon running. As I do every year, I followed the latest news from Boston and London, home to the world’s most famous marathons. The 2026 races brought some notable headlines, including a new course record by John Korir in Boston and a remarkable but hardly unexpected result, as Sebastian Sawe convincingly broke the 2-hour barrier in London.

But as has happened for several years, I was left with mixed feelings, especially reading some of the online chatter after these two premier races. I decided to let things sit for a while, to see if I really wanted to put my concerns into words. Since this is my blog, I will go ahead and share my opinions on the state of the sport. I’m interested in any reader comments, especially if you have a different take on this subject.

Celebrating the good

I’ll start by reiterating my opinion that athletics (and specifically, running) is the greatest of all the sports. Competitive running has been at the core of my existence for most of my life, and I remain captivated by a sport with such rich history, diverse personalities, infinite challenge, and tangible benefits.

Because running confers countless benefits, I’m thrilled whenever I see people taking up the sport, no matter their circumstances. I encourage anyone who is curious about running to take it up, with an open mind. If they choose to take the step into competitive running, so much the better.

Apparently many people are doing just that—it was announced this week that entry applications for the 2027 London Marathon exceeded 1.3 million. This is more than twice the figure for the 2024 race. The odds of being selected in the lottery are slim—now only about 1 in 100. And it’s not just London that is seeing dramatic growth. I haven’t done a detailed analysis, but big city marathons and many other races are filling up fast. It’s a worldwide phenomenon.

Higher participation in running is a very good thing. Running races, whatever the distance, is a worthy objective, and it will pay dividends for individuals and society as a whole. Here’s a quote from the foreword of my book, Stroke of Luck, as written by Dr. Michael Hill—he’s one of my heroes at the Foothills Stroke Unit. His words should inspire us all:

“If Steve’s book can inspire others both before and after illness to pursue a more active life, then it will have achieved a key purpose. If it can also inspire builders and planners and engineers to build environments, indoor and outdoor, that promote that physical activity, then whole groups and neighbourhoods will benefit. If it can inspire political leaders to imagine a society where these environments are protected, encouraged and nourished, then an entire nation can thrive.”

– Michael D Hill, OC MD MSc FRCPC FRCS

This coming weekend will be Calgary’s time to celebrate running, with the 62nd Calgary Marathon. I’ll take up my usual spot on 14 Street SW, around the 15k mark, camera in hand, to watch the action. Look for pictures on my Instagram shortly after the race!

Acknowledging the not-so-good

Notice that I didn’t say “finishing a marathon” is a very good thing. On balance, it usually is, but it’s on this point that I will add some cautionary words. Committing to a marathon takes extraordinary dedication, and finishing one is always a major accomplishment, especially for those who do so as amateurs.

The real question is, why have runners come to see the marathon as a measure of their status? It’s complicated. Running has become big business. There’s a subculture around races that is undeniably elitist, characterized by high entry barriers (and fees to match), international travel and expensive equipment.

It even involves fashion and jewelry (think blingy finisher’s medals). Medals from this year’s Boston Marathon (pictured at left) are already selling on eBay for $500 US. While this may suggest greater recognition of the value of the sport, it also points to what I see as a major threat—commercialism.

Commercialism has led to myths and misconceptions, mainly among new runners. There’s the “real runner” myth. There are fractures in the running community, along the lines of which races one “has done”. In my view, this puts pressure on runners to prove they belong. What nonsense! If you run, you are a runner. It’s not for me to dictate which races anyone should run, let alone races with a peculiar distance of 42.195 kilometres.

Worse is what I call the “holy grail” myth. This is an unfortunate result of the higher demand for race entries. If you increase demand for something unique and in short supply—like a race bib for the Boston Marathon—its value will increase. Runners setting their sights on Route 135 between Hopkinton and Boylston Street feel pressure to perform, to spend, to always have the latest shoe and the best nutritional supplements. Race entries, coaching, physiotherapy, travel.

What happened to just enjoying running for its own sake? I think we’ve let our competitive nature—the human need to strive, to achieve, and then to recognize our achievements—overtake our common sense. Even small, local races now have large, shiny finisher’s medals.

I put some of the blame on the Abbott World Marathon Majors, a series that has turned marathoning into a medal treasure hunt. I concede that the Abbott Majors has had some beneficial impact, by increasing awareness and interest in marathon running. Fortunately, it’s also spawned trends like the boom in trail running and the minimalist Parkrun.

What are the Abbott World Marathon Majors?

Starting in the mid-2000s, five big city marathons (Boston, New York, Chicago, London and Berlin) got together, and declared that they had special status owing to their size and reputation amongst runners. The World Marathon Majors was born. It was a novel idea. At the time it was almost certainly true.

Some years later, Abbott entered the picture, recognizing that an annual marathon series was a novel marketing opportunity. Their goal was to foster elite competition, but it quickly morphed into an enticement to average runners.

Not surprisingly, the Abbott series has grown—Tokyo was added as the sixth major in 2012, then Sydney in 2024. More majors are coming, and Cape Town (eight) and Shanghai (nine) are next.

And the ugly

If your circumstances allow you to travel the world, to always own the latest carbon-plated supershoe, to enter and train and compete in marathons in some of the leading cities of the world—go right ahead. I hope people who are on this path are there for good and valid reasons.

But what if you can’t manage it? What if the wear and tear on your body from even one marathon is too much? What if wearing the same $500 superlight shoe that Sawe wore to set his record is actually hurting you? Here’s where the problems start.

Anyone who commits to a marathon—or any race—should do so because they intend to compete. That is easier said than done. If you are happier running your local Parkrun or 10k, with no consideration of your pace, wearing ordinary running shoes, then that’s what you should do. You’ll be better off in the long run.

The worst consequences of this pressure are becoming clear. There’s cheating aimed at securing valuable race entries—runners who will do anything to secure a Boston Qualifier, a BQ. Reports of bib swapping, course cutting and “bib mules” are now fairly common.

Then there’s the significant environmental toll from “marathon tourism”, as people fly around the world to compete in marquee races, when there are so many other events closer to home. Some would downplay the seriousness of these issues, but I don’t. How valuable is a finisher’s medal if it wasn’t earned fairly?

I want to mention the so-called running influencers, whose interest in Boston, New York or London seems to be in checking these races off a list. They use their online platform to bring their followers along with them. It’s the marathoning equivalent of snapping a selfie at the Eiffel Tower and the Grand Canyon.

What happens next? Look to Boston

I think explosive growth in demand is eroding some of the goodwill that exists around a sport fundamentally based on fitness. Even Boston, the premier marathon in the world, has become the focus of online angst. Why? For the very reason that it is so prestigious. Boston is the race with the most challenging entry criteria—a BQ is coveted more than any other credential in the marathoning world. For decades, Boston has simply been out of reach for many runners, even serious competitive runners. With limited exceptions for charity spots, if you weren’t fast enough, you couldn’t get in.

Interestingly, I see this feature putting Boston into a position of conflict with the other Abbott races. Clearly, a runner can’t complete their six-star commitment unless they can run Boston. So, isn’t it structurally unfair to those runners for the BAA to enforce Boston’s traditionally stringent entry standards?

I say NO, for one simple reason: Entry to Boston is a privilege, not a right.

I would hate to see Boston’s status as the world’s leading marathon diluted to satisfy essentially infinite demand for entries. In fact, I see the BAA facing an imminent dilemma—stick to their principles (limiting entries as much as necessary to put on a world-leading event) or find a way to accommodate the call on entries by non-qualifying Abbott runners. If it comes to this, there can be only one answer. I’m optimistic that the BAA will do the right thing, and I’m sure Boston would do just fine alongside and apart from the Abbott series. If that means some incomplete six-star medals, so be it.

The final word

The sport of marathoning is thriving, and I’m confident it will get past its current challenges. For those who enjoy running for its own sake, my advice will never change—find your own way in the sport. If that happens to include marathons, that’s awesome. I wish you great success. Just don’t let anyone dictate what races you must run, or that you must race at all. Remember, if you run, you are a runner, and you can be content with that.

Until next time, be well and BE FAST!

Boston Marathon Musings

I’m looking forward to visiting Cafe Books in beautiful Canmore in a few weeks, for an in-store book event.

If you can make it on May 17, I’d love to see you there, for a chat about running, my stroke journey, and of course, my book!

Speaking of running, I’ve almost let the week go by without a blog post, but this week—Boston Marathon week—is too special to pass up. A gutsy performance by one of my teammates, who demonstrated character by overcoming injuries to finish the race, prompted me to start writing—congratulations Jason!

If there is one road race that stands above all others, it is the Boston Marathon. There are many reasons for this, and it would take much more than one short piece to go through them. I can already see more posts being needed!

Why Boston Matters

Boston is a celebration of tradition and history. The race is a tribute to athletic excellence, with many of the great runners having won in Boston—Tom Longboat, Johnny Miles, Ron Hill, Bill Rodgers, Jerome Drayton. It’s a unique sporting event, where the best professional runners compete on the same road, at the same time, with the most devoted amateurs. The crescendo of support—from the quiet country roads of Ashland, to the enthusiastic women of Wellesley College at the halfway point, to the screaming crowds in Kenmore Square—makes every inch of the route special.

Devotion doesn’t begin to describe what it takes to earn an entry to Boston. Talent, dedication, and good luck are also needed. Then, just to get to the start line in Hopkinton on the third Monday in April takes extraordinary commitment, focused training, and more good luck. Those fortunate enough to reach the historic finish line on Boylston Street will have dealt with one of the most devilish, net downhill, point-to-point race courses anywhere in the world; and unpredictable weather conditions that can include everything from torrential rain to blistering heat.

What all the fuss is about… the Boston Marathon route and elevation map

Some context might be helpful. Today, running a marathon is seen by many beginners as part of a natural progression, as an achievement that lets someone call themselves a runner. (That isn’t true, by the way.) For many years, the 42.195km distance was the domain of the sport’s fringe players: tough, sinewy, hard men. Yes, they were almost all men. And while it may have been debated, the Boston Marathon was at, or at least near, the pinnacle of the world’s top marathons.

I think of two eras for the Boston Marathon: pre- and post-1996. You see, 1996 was the 100th anniversary of the race. Compared to prior years, the field that year was huge. Since then, demand for entries has ballooned, as more runners add Boston to their bucket list. To their credit, the Boston Athletic Association (the BAA) found a way to squeeze more runners onto the narrow roads of Route 135 by adding wave starts (and by upping their game on the organization side).

I will add an opinion that may not be popular with some readers. The BAA will never be able to accommodate the demand for entries to this most desirable race. And that is fine with me. Boston has always been (and in my view, should remain) exclusive… it should be an event set aside for those who can earn a place. Opening it up to any and all participants would only dilute what makes the race special.

Personal Connections

I’ve run Boston three times. It’s been such an integral part of my running life—my first running life, that is—that I can’t really remember a time when I didn’t want to run it. Through the 1980s and 1990s, the race was an enigma and a vague aspiration. It was an event that I read about on the back page of the sports section. If I wanted to know more, I would have to dig deep. And I did. But in the days before social media, I had more questions than answers: Where should I even begin? How would I qualify… or enter? My god, assuming I did enter, how would I run the damn thing?

Let’s just say I worked my way up to the race. I call it doing my apprenticeship. Finally, in 2001, for the 105th running, I felt ready to tackle the challenge. It helped that I qualified by a comfortable margin in another of my favourite races, the 2000 Royal Victoria Marathon.

I wrote extensively about my first Boston Marathon experience in Stroke of Luck. It is, quite simply, one of the defining events of my life. My family made the trek to Boston with me, having sacrificed much to make my 25-year dream possible. The race itself was a personal triumph. I planned well and I executed well. I met my optimistic goal by going under three hours. I even put aside my competitive instincts—a little—to smile and wave at the best marathon fans in the world. In short, I finished knowing I had done everything humanly possible to achieve this result. As I said in the book:

“The numbers were impressive and satisfying, but they were only numbers. I was at a loss for words to describe what I was feeling. Years later, I still have trouble. It was exceptional. Momentous. Transcendent. It was everything I had hoped it would be.”

That magical day in April 2001 was the culmination of a long personal journey. I believe that putting substance to my childhood dream, working towards it, and finally achieving it, says more about me than words can ever do.

I’ve been back to run Boston twice more. The experiences were each different and in their own way, worth writing about. There’s no question that for sheer emotional intensity, nothing could compare to the first time I made those famous turns, the ones every Boston finisher will recognize—“right on Hereford, left on Boylston”. Look for more in future posts.

For now, I’ll ride the annual Marathon Monday wave for a little while longer.

Until next time, be well and BE FAST!