After Training for My First Marathon, I Felt Like My Body Didn’t Look Like the Runner I Thought I’d Become. Experts Helped Me See Otherwise.

Two weeks out from my first marathon, I looked in the mirror and didn’t see the version of myself I thought I would. There was no six-pack, not even a hint of ab definition. My glutes weren’t particularly sculpted, and I wouldn’t exactly describe myself as lean like many runners I see.At 5-foot-10, I’ve never been the smallest girl in the room. And while my long legs certainly help me cover more distance, I expected months of marathon training to leave me looking more visibly athletic, with more muscle definition and a physique that reflected just how hard I’d been working. I thought that after months of early alarms, added protein, and steadily increasing mileage, I’d look in the mirror and see a different body type.Somewhere along the way, I absorbed the idea that a runner’s body should look a certain way. When mine didn’t match that image, I started wondering if I wasn’t training hard enough, if I was doing something wrong, or if my body simply wasn’t responding the way it was supposed to.As I approached race day, I thought about why I was holding myself to that standard in the first place, especially because I was running the New York City Marathon on behalf of Planned Parenthood of Greater New York, an organization whose work centers on bodily autonomy and compassionate care.Why was I putting so much pressure on my body to look different when it was already doing something incredible? I realized training for a marathon isn’t just about building endurance; it can also mean confronting the expectations you place on yourself.Where Does the Idea of a ‘Runner’s Body’ Come From?So many people have an idea of what a “runner’s body” is supposed to look like, particularly fed by what we see online. When you see the same body type represented over and over, it’s easy to start associating that appearance with athleticism. But running a marathon is an enormous physical undertaking, and there’s no single body type that proves you’re capable of doing it.Clinical sport psychologist Hillary Cauthen, PsyD, explains that the concept of “a runner’s body” is “largely a socially constructed ideal influenced by media representation, sport culture, and the tendency to associate certain physical characteristics with athletic success.” She adds that distance running has historically been represented by a lean body type, particularly smaller-framed athletes, which can leave some recreational runners questioning whether they fit the mold.Comparison is a large part of this problem, too, says Cindra Kamphoff, PhD, mental performance coach and founder of the Mentally Strong Institute. “We see elite runners and start believing that’s what we should look like,” she explains.Marathon training is practically a master class in comparison, making it hard to avoid. You’re tracking your pace, watching your mileage climb, sharing runs on Strava, and seeing what everyone else is doing. It can feel like your body should be changing right alongside your stats.There’s also a particularly frustrating point of tension for women, who can feel caught between the cultural expectation to be smaller and the athletic ideal of looking lean and strong. Carinthia Bank, LCSW, a social worker who works with runners on body image, describes this as the “female athlete paradox,” in which women are judged against both ideals.For example, a woman might recognize that building strength and fueling adequately are essential to marathon training, yet still feel pressure to maintain a smaller frame or worry that eating more to support her mileage will change her body in ways she doesn’t want. These competing expectations can shape how women judge their bodies, even as they get stronger and more capable, Bank explains.Marathon training can also increase the time we spend thinking about our bodies, particularly when we’re experiencing physical or emotional discomfort, Bank adds. Many runners tend to think they’d feel better if their bodies were different, which can lead to judgment and blame toward the body they have.That’s the trap I found myself in. While I was training for 26.2 miles, part of me was still measuring my progress against an imaginary finish line where I’d emerge with a completely different-looking body. I would accomplish something I’d never done before, like running my farthest distance, yet I was using my appearance to dictate my progress.Cauthen offers a simple definition to keep in mind: “A runner’s body is not a specific shape or size. It is a body that runs.”Why Strict Body Image Expectations Aren’t Realistic in Marathon TrainingHere’s the thing about marathon training: Your body adapts to the physical demands of running, but those changes don’t guarantee an aesthetic transformation. You might build muscle, experience weight fluctuations, or notice an increase in appetite as your body works to fuel and recover. “Improved fitness does not always result in weight loss or a smaller body,” Cauthen says.There’s also a practical reason not to make getting smaller one of your goals in marathon training. Kamphoff encourages runners “to focus on fueling for performance rather than restricting for appearance,” reminding us that “you can’t expect your body to perform at its best if you’re constantly trying to make it take up less space.”Marathon training requires substantial energy, and restricting food to change your appearance can leave you without enough fuel to support your workouts and recovery.Plus, fixating on your size can affect more than physical performance. “Focusing on getting smaller can distract and discourage us from actions that are helpful to performance and mental health,” Bank says. When you’re preoccupied with changing your body, you can miss out on learning what helps you perform, enjoying the process, and appreciating everything your body allows you to do.I had to confront the fact that I’d been treating my appearance as a report card for my training. If I was working hard enough, I assumed I’d eventually see visible proof in the mirror. But I realized I can become a stronger, more capable runner without looking the way I imagined I would.For me, that meant recognizing that the body I’d been criticizing was the same one carrying me through early morning runs and increasingly long distances. My body wasn’t failing at becoming a runner’s body—I’d been expecting it to meet a standard that had very little to do with what I was asking it to do.How I’m Adjusting My MentalityI wish I could say that learning all of this made me instantly love every inch of my body, but that wouldn’t be honest. I’m still working on it, and I still have moments when I catch my reflection and wonder why I don’t look the way I imagined I would after months of training. But I’m trying to shift my focus from what my body looks like to what it’s allowing me to do, with the help of these expert tips.Courtesy Alyssa RotunnoFocus on Admiration“One of the most important shifts runners can make is moving from body evaluation to body appreciation,” Cauthen says. Instead of asking whether I look like someone who runs marathons, I’m trying to ask myself what my body has helped me accomplish. And the answer is a lot more impressive than whether or not I have visible abs.As I got closer to race day, I continued to remind myself that I don’t have to look a certain way to feel proud of what I accomplished. My body carried me through months of training, and that’s worth celebrating all on its own.I’m also learning to give myself a little more grace when my expectations don’t match reality. Bank reminds runners that “human beings usually get uncomfortable when there’s a difference between what we wanted and what we get,” and encourages compassion rather than self-criticism.I don’t have to ignore the fact that I expected marathon training to change my appearance, but I also don’t want those expectations to overshadow everything else I’ve gained, including running farther than I ever thought possible, learning how to fuel and maintain energy, and showing up for myself.Challenge the Inner CriticCauthen recommends distinguishing between observing a physical change and assigning a negative meaning to it, which has really stuck with me. “Noticing that your legs have become more muscular, your weight has fluctuated, or your clothing fits differently is an observation,” she explains. “Deciding those changes mean you are too big, not fit enough, or don’t look like a runner is an interpretation.” This helped me realize how quickly I can turn a neutral observation into self-criticism.Instead of jumping to conclusions, Cauthen says it’s helpful to ask yourself a few questions when those negative thoughts creep in. For example, “is this thought based on evidence or comparison?” and “am I evaluating my body based on appearance or how I feel and function?” These questions challenge the assumptions that we tend to make about our bodies.Develop an Inner CoachKamphoff encourages runners to develop what she calls an “inner coach” instead of listening to an inner critic. One strategy she recommends is to “capture your wins” by writing down three things you’re proud of after training. The idea is to shift your attention from perceived imperfections to the progress you’ve made.I’m trying to practice this by celebrating the things that don’t show up in a mirror. For example, I’ve learned how to pace myself and keep going when a run gets uncomfortable. “Your body has been showing up for you mile after mile. Make sure your self-talk is showing up for your body, too,” says Kamphoff.Ultimately, I’m learning that I don’t need to love how my body looks every single day to respect what it does for me. “Body acceptance does not require loving every part of your appearance every day,” Cauthen says. “Sometimes it starts with respecting your body’s needs and appreciating its efforts, even when your feelings about your appearance are complicated.”I can have complicated feelings about the way I look and still be proud of the athlete I’ve become. And I can show up at the starting line without meeting some imaginary physical standard first.That’s the mindset I carried with me to the marathon. I ran 26.2 miles for a cause I believe in, after months of training that challenged me physically and mentally. My body didn’t have to look a certain way to deserve that moment.After all those early mornings and hours of preparation, I finally crossed the finish line, put the medal around my neck, and walked out of Central Park feeling something I hadn’t quite felt throughout training: pride. Not because my body looked different, but because of everything it had just done. I felt so grateful for my legs that kept moving, my strength that carried me through the tough miles, and a body that got me to the finish line without injury.No, my body may not have looked like the “marathon body” I once imagined, but it was a marathon body. I didn’t need a mirror selfie to prove what I’d accomplished: I ran all 26.2 miles. Honestly, what could be more impressive than that?Alyssa is a New York City–based runner and lifestyle writer covering the intersection of fitness, beauty, and everyday routines. Currently training for the NYC Marathon, she brings a firsthand perspective to stories on endurance, recovery, and the mental side of running—alongside the real-life habits that support it. Her work is rooted in what’s practical, personal, and worth incorporating into your own routine.