I Ran 2:25 at the Chicago Marathon—and Felt Like I Failed. Until I Remembered This.

I’ve had the Chicago Marathon circled on my calendar for well over a year. I love the city of Chicago, and it’s one of the fastest courses in the world, so my excitement built throughout 2026, especially after I had to pull out of my planned spring marathon due to an Achilles issue.Going into marathon weekend, I knew the weather would be a factor. Forecasts called for temps in the low 60s at the start, with high humidity and sun exposure. But my prerace plan was firm. My coach wanted me to approach the race aggressively and “not leave anything on the table.”After adjusting slightly for conditions, I had two main goals: finish in the top 50 overall and break the 2:20 barrier. The plan was to run a 5:15 to 5:20 pace and hang on as long as I could.From the opening mile, I knew it was going to be a long day. My heart rate quickly climbed into the low 180s—far too high to sustain for two-plus hours—and, even after settling into my pace, I never felt smooth. The rest of the race was damage control. My 5:15 miles slowed to 5:20s, which slowed to 5:25s, which—by the final 10K—slowed to a 6:00 pace.I finished the race in 2:25:07, good for 118th place and about a minute slower than my personal best of 2:24:12. Not a total disaster, by any means, but my yearlong dream of PRing had been deferred.As I walked through the finishing chute, I was a mess of emotions. But one thing kept my head high. I took a swing and went for an ambitious goal and simply didn’t have it on the day. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I took pride in knowing that I didn’t cower and held it together.That’s the tough part about the marathon. Your training might go well, you successfully avoid getting sick during the taper, you carb-load like a madman—and it simply isn’t enough. There are only so many times you can run an all-out marathon each year, and it seems unfair when the weather (or your legs) don’t cooperate. But you signed up for it. It comes with the territory. It’s a hard pill to swallow, but it shouldn’t discourage you from signing up for the next one.After taking some time to process the race, I’ve found plenty of positive takeaways, even though the result wasn’t what I envisioned.I experimented with running shirtless during a marathon for the first time. I shed my singlet two miles in, and it immensely helped with airflow. I fended off midrace demons that told me I should drop out or walk or jog it in, even though I knew I could finish with a respectable time. I perfectly executed my fueling strategy, taking seven high-carb gels and sipping on water cups, and I finished without getting a cramp (a first for me!).It’s tempting, during a tough race, to spiral and convince yourself that an off day is an indictment of your training or dedication to the sport. But sometimes, you have to take one on the chin. And most of the time, the end result isn’t as bad as your mid-marathon brain will try to convince you.Find Your Next Running PlaylistTheo Kahler is the senior news editor at Runner’s World. He’s a former all-conference collegiate runner at Winthrop University, and he received his master’s degree in liberal arts studies from Wake Forest University, where he was a member of one of the top distance-running teams in the NCAA. Kahler has reported on the ground at major events such as the Paris Olympics, U.S. Olympic Trials, New York City Marathon, and Boston Marathon. He’s run 14:20 in the 5K, 1:05:37 in the half marathon, and finished 40th at the 2025 New York City Marathon. He enjoys spotting tracks from the sky on airplanes. (Look for colorful ovals around football fields.)