I missed a marathon I never planned to run… and it messed with my head more than it should’ve.
And that’s the weird part.
I wasn’t training for it, I didn’t have a bib, and I didn’t even want to race (I had completed two marathons in seven years). But when the Sydney Marathon happened this year (it’s the first time as a Major), and I wasn’t in it or around it or even near it? Yeah… something felt off.
I had all these ideas for marathon weekend. Creative ones, where I wanted to capture something with my action cam — like a Humans of New York meets runners in Sydney kind of thing. Just like mini portraits, little moments, and content that is the emotional sidekick to all my usual “how-to educational” stuff.
I also wanted to meet up with runners I know online from the United States and the rest of the world, as I don’t get many visitors here for events. This was something I looked forward to since the possibility of Sydney becoming a major hub in 2022.
And most of all, I was planning to pace a runner I’d coached for the past year through the last 15km of his sub-3 attempt. That was the part I was most excited for. Just being there to support, create, and participate without racing and destroying my body (and the next 5-7 days of my life).
But two weeks out, someone in my house needed surgery (not life-threatening, just a logistics nightmare), and suddenly I was on home duty to sort life administration out. And when I thought I could sneak out later because we got into a rhythm a few days before the marathon? Boom — sinus infection. From a super mild cold my kid brought in, of course. Add in a ton of work stress from the media side of the biz… and yeah. That was a wrap: No pacing, 5K shakeout, no video, no nothing.
Just me on my couch scrolling Strava and Instagram with the live stream playing while I did work all of Sunday.
And here’s the thing… I didn’t think I’d care, because I really don’t get too much fomo. But I did,
Watching everyone hit their goals got me all emotional in the weirdest way. The city was buzzing. The course looked alive. And I wasn’t out there, even with my POV camera shots.
And boom, there it was. I wasn’t upset about missing a marathon – I was upset about missing my chance to be useful to other runners.
I like supporting, pacing, and storytelling. I’m inspired by the fast 2:40–2:50 marathon friends who I run with, who slowed it down to pace others to their best times. Reading their Strava captions was beyond inspiring. It gave me that warm, fuzzy, purposeful vibe I don’t always get from chasing my own times. It reminded me that being part of someone else’s race might actually be my real thing.
Maybe I’m built more for pacing than racing.
But…
Let’s be honest. Before I go full pacer-dad mode, I still gotta scratch some itches, like running 16 minutes in the 5K again, or finishing my 9th and 10th half marathons, or going sub-1:22 in one of them… the list goes on.
Then maybe… maybe I’ll pivot into that next phase — the supporter, the storyteller, the guy helping other runners get their own 1% better.
But for now? I’m just reminding myself: not every DNF is about failure. Sometimes, not starting still tells you exactly what matters.
