Marathon Encore: Notes From the Back-to-Back

Last week, 29,025 runners finished the Boston Marathon 2026. This past Sunday, 58,051 finished the record-breaking London Marathon. About 1,274 people finished both.

Let that sit for a moment. Two marathons. Two continents. Seven days.

I know what that feels like. And I even had one more day in between.

Eight Days, Two Marathons

After a cancelled 2020 season and a COVID-19-induced DNS in the spring of 2021, 2022 was planned to be the comeback year. I had registered for the Berlin Marathon 2022, a known fast course and the place where I had run my previous marathon best in 2017.

At the same time, I wanted to continue my Six-Star Journey. Having tried the lottery for London for several years, I finally bit the bullet and contacted a travel agency to book the 2022 race.

Now, in 2022, the pandemic had shifted the London Marathon from its usual April date to early October. In my mind, there were three weeks between Berlin and London: “Berlin is mid-September, London is early October; that makes it three weeks.” While not ideal for recovery, I figured it would be doable. Turns out, I was off by two weeks. Berlin 2022 was on Sunday, September 25. London 2022 was on October 2nd. Eight days apart. My coach gave me a green light. His framing was simple: “Berlin for time, London for fun.” The main focus would be getting ready for Berlin, attacking my personal best of 3:01:26, with an eye on running sub-3. London would be a long jog, enjoying the atmosphere and securing the 5th star.

Berlin

I was hyped. Finally, a marathon start line four years after finishing my last one. I was scared. Had I forgotten how running a marathon works? I was stupid. I had no idea if the shoes I’d wear would work for me. I was brave. I went all in.

Fullsend!

Sub-3h pace from the get-go. Flying. Having fun. Until the 30 km mark. That’s where the pace started to slip. From 4:12/km to 4:16/km. From 4:16/km to 4:20/km. That’s where the sub-3h dream slipped away.

I could feel my calves hurting, and had that been my only fall marathon, I would’ve pushed it home, landing somewhere in the 3:05:00 to 3:10:00 range. Maybe I wasn’t that stupid, after all (despite the shoe decision), as I made the wise choice to jog it home for the last 12 km. Trying to salvage some legs for London. 3:14:47. Right in no-man’s-land. Not at all to plan.

London

After Berlin, I took five days off. I wanted to test the legs with a short run in between, but my calves hurt. Even the 30-minute shakeout run on Saturday felt like crap; both calves were screaming at me. The sort of pain where you know nothing is injured, but which doesn’t loosen up regardless of how easy you take it. My legs remembered Berlin.

20 km. Still running.

A marathon can be really long if your calves hurt from km one. I found a long-run pace around 5:00/km that worked. Until it didn’t. This time, I had to call it off even earlier: 25 km was all I could ignore the calves for. From then on I switched to what I would call a “happy walk.” As much as the spectators cheered me on and tried to encourage me to get running again, I was content to just walk. Sometimes even jog a bit. But mostly walk. After all, it was a sunny day, and I would be getting my 5th World Marathon Majors bling.

3:49:50—thirty-six minutes slower than the week before. To date, my slowest marathon finish. The training had been for Berlin; London was the add-on, the star collector's gambit. I came for the bling, and that turned out to be exactly the right mentality.

The recovery took the better part of a month, not helped by the fact that I came down with my second round of COVID-19 just as I was about to resume training.

Would I do it again? Honestly? No. I am too performance-driven to line up “for the bling.” Do I regret it? Not at all. This particular marathon double won’t be possible for the foreseeable future. Which brings me back to last Sunday. The Boston/London double happens every year.

To the 1,274

Most runners pick one or two marathons per season. One training block in the spring, one taper, one race, and one recovery. Repeat in the fall. These 1,215 ran two in a week. Boston's hills on Monday, then London's flat-but-endless tour of the city the following Sunday.

Whether they are chasing stars, chasing times, or simply unable to say no to a marathon—I get it. There's a stubborn joy in lining up for a race your body hasn't fully recovered from. You know it won't be pretty. You do it anyway.

Congratulations. You're all slightly unhinged, and I mean that as the highest compliment.

Two Races, Two Cities

Boston is a point-to-point pilgrimage. You take a bus to Hopkinton, sit on a field for two hours, and run back to the city. The Newton hills break you or they don't. The crowd on Boylston is the payoff.

London is a city-wide party. Strangers scream your name off your bib from the first km. Tower Bridge gives you goosebumps. The Mall finish is something else entirely.

If you ask me which is better, you're asking the wrong question.

See You Out There

To the 1,274: enjoy the recovery. You've earned every rest day, every guilt-free meal, every blank stare when someone asks, “So, what's next?”

And to everyone else reading this who's thinking, “That sounds insane”—yes. That's the appeal.