I'm Never Going to Qualify for Boston

...And That's Ok. I Am Still a GREAT Runner!

Well earlier this week, the Boston Athletic Association (BAA) released the brand new qualifying standards for the next qualification window to gain entry to apply for the 2026 Boston Marathon.

screenshot from https://www.baa.org/races/boston-marathon/qualify with 2026 qualifying times to apply for entry into the Boston Marathon

As one of the world’s oldest annually held marathons (first held in 1897), the Boston Marathon is one of the most coveted events for runners. However, with its immense popularity and limited spots, organizers must grapple with how to decide who gets to run on the third Monday of April each year.

The introduction of qualifying standards in 1970 (that’s right—run the standard, but a spot isn’t guaranteed) created the coveted title of "Boston Qualifier" for those who meet the criteria. But with these standards comes an ongoing conversation about fairness. It’s understandable for races like the Olympics or Olympic Trials to have strict qualifying times—those represent the pinnacle of athletic achievement. But with Boston, and I say this with the utmost respect for its prestige, the only thing at stake is crossing that beautiful finish line.

And yet, despite that, Boston is seen by so many as the pinnacle of running itself.

I’ve come to accept something: I will probably never run the Boston Marathon, and I’m okay with that. Sure, I can joke about making the time, doing the work, and waiting for the standards to relax as I get older. But the truth hit me hard this year—I’m unlikely to ever qualify. And that’s okay.

These qualifying standards have always sparked debate, especially as the gap between the posted time and the actual time needed to get into the race has widened. It’s no surprise the Boston Athletic Association (BAA) dropped the qualifying times by five minutes for the 2026 race. After turning 35 in June, I was excited to move into a new age bracket, thinking I had gained five extra minutes. But with the new standards, those five minutes have vanished, and I’m back where I started, with the same time I’ve had since I was 18.

And that got me thinking—why have we collectively decided that running Boston is the goal?

Sure, it’s a great goal to strive for, and it gives many of us something to work toward. But let’s be honest, the times are quick. Really quick. And when I stop to reflect, I realize I don’t need Boston to define who I am as a runner. Do I need to be a Boston Qualifier? A Boston finisher? An Olympic Trials qualifier? An Olympian?

These are all amazing aspirations, but they shouldn’t define my identity as a runner. If we let these goals consume us, we risk missing the larger point of what running brings into our lives. I’ve seen the heartbreak in the eyes of runners who crossed the finish line just seconds off the qualifying mark. I’ve heard stories of those who hit the time but still didn’t get in because the sheer number of applicants was too high (that’s a topic for another post).

Don’t get me wrong—I would love to run Boston. Scratch that. I would love to run in Boston.

When I visited Boston in 2014, I walked the famed “right on Hereford, left on Boylston” stretch. It’s a surreal experience, knowing that countless running legends have finished their races there. But as much as I admire the accomplishment of running Boston, I’ve realized something—every run, no matter where or when, has its own worth.

Photo by Brett Wharton on Unsplash

I think back to other final turns I’ve made. At the Shamrock Marathon, there’s a right on 37th and a right onto the boardwalk. At the Richmond Marathon, the last two turns are a right on Franklin and a left on 5th Street—then you run what feels like straight downhill to the finish. These finishes, most from half marathons, are etched into my memory just as vividly as those iconic Boston turns.

Yes, the Boston Marathon is special. But I don’t want runners to feel like they’re not real runners if they never qualify. Those qualifying times are grueling, and even at my peak, I was still about 20 minutes away from simply qualifying based on my half marathon times.

Here’s the truth: Being a runner isn’t about achieving one race. It’s about the joy in each run, the personal challenges we overcome, and the growth we experience along the way. Whether or not we ever cross that iconic Boston finish line, every run is an accomplishment. So let’s embrace the journey, not just the destination.