I’m Running My First Marathon Because It Sounded Like a Party
Published 10/28/26
Let me set the scene: I am not a runner.
My natural habitat is a cafe, a craft table covered in glitter, or a concert late at night. If you'd asked me a year ago how I felt about running 26.2 miles, I would have laughed and asked what time the after-party starts. And yet, on November 1st, I'll be lining up in New York City to run my very first marathon.
How did this happen? Honestly, the same way most of my best decisions happen. Two friends were doing something that sounded like a big, crazy adventure, and I didn't want to miss it.
When I found out two of my teammates were running, I didn’t ask a lot of questions. Somewhere between hearing about crowds lining the streets and strangers cheering for you by name, my brain stopped hearing "marathon" and started hearing "the biggest party in New York."
26 in the year of 2026? Okay! So I signed up. For the vibe.
The best part of this whole thing is who I get to run with. There are three of us from the Chatbooks team running, and I don't think you could find three more different reasons to be in the same city on the same morning.
Julie has run a marathon every time she's had a baby. But this one is different. This is her first one that isn't tied to a new little one. This race is just for her, and I think that's one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard.
Madi is on a mission to run all of the World Marathon Majors. She did Chicago; she knows what she's doing. She knows exactly where New York fits in her count. She is, in every way, a Real Runner.
And then there's me, the first-timer who signed up because it sounded fun.
One of us is closing a chapter, one is checking off a quest, and one is just here for the energy. All three reasons are valid and all three of us WILL cross the same finish line.
I'd love to tell you I've become a disciplined, early-morning, protein-shake kind of gal, but alas, I have not.
What I have become is someone who treats every long run like a curated experience. I spend more time building playlists than stretching. I have a running playlist that I ran most of my long runs to, named “WE RUN THIS,” and it is a playlist of all female artists.
Some things I've learned as a creative person training for a very athletic event:
- Gear is basically a fashion show. I have opinions about my race outfit that have nothing to do with performance and everything to do with color. Matching painted fingernails included.
- The vibe matters. A run with a good playlist feels completely different from a run in silence. I choose the party every time.
- Small wins count. My longest run so far is 15 miles. A few months ago, I couldn't have imagined it.
- It's okay to be bad at something. I'm not fast or graceful. But I'm doing it anyway, and that has been the most freeing part.
There have been hard days, too. Days where I skipped runs, runs where my legs felt like cement, and moments when I wondered what on earth I'd signed up for. But every time, I've come back to the reason I said yes in the first place: the people, the adventure, and the chance to be part of something I'd never normally do.
Getting into the New York City Marathon isn’t as simple as signing up. Runners either qualify with a fast race time, win a spot in the drawing, or run for a charity by fundraising or finding a sponsor. We’re running with a charity team focused on climate causes, and Chatbooks generously sponsored our spot by donating to the cause.
If there's one thing this experience has taught me, it's this: you don't have to be a certain kind of person to do something new. You don't have to be "a runner" to run. You don't have to be "an artist" to paint, or "a baker" to try the complicated recipe.
Sometimes the only reason you need is that it sounds fun, or that people you love are doing it, or that you're curious what it would feel like. (I have a feeling this is going to hurt.)
So many of us, especially moms, get used to staying in our lane. We do the things we know we're good at, and we cheer everyone else on from the sidelines. Cheering is wonderful, but every once in a while, it's okay to lace up and jump in, even if you're the slowest one there.
I already know race day is going to be a blur: the nerves at the start, the crowds, the signs, the moment I see my friends and my mom at the finish.
I'm planning to capture as much of it as I can. The blurry mid-race selfies, the medals, the three of us at the finish line, sweaty and so happy. And when it's over, those photos are not going to live forever in my camera roll. They're getting printed and put somewhere I'll actually see them, because this is the kind of day I want to remember long after my legs stop hurting.
Wish us luck. And if you're in New York on November 1st, yell loud for Team Chatbooks!
Readers are Loving