When I signed up for a half marathon this past March, I thought it’d be a fun, memorable way to support a good cause. After all, the race was for Girls on the Run, a local charity that empowers young girls to run and helps them pay for lessons and equipment. I thought to myself, what better way to support a cause for girls running than to run?
This run was during spring break, and at the time, I had been talking to a guy for a few weeks who asked to go on a date with me. My spring break schedule was to run a half marathon Saturday morning and get on the plane for a solo trip to Costa Rica Sunday morning. Half joking, I told this man- let’s name him John- that the only way for him to see me over break was to run this half marathon with me. To my surprise, he signed up for the race immediately. By the way, half marathon race fees are upwards of $150-$200.
We met up the day before to grab our race bibs and packets. John was friendly, a little goofy, and just the right amount of nervous for someone about to run double-digit miles on a first date, not to mention for the first time. We shared earbuds, made a quick playlist, and agreed: no pressure, we will just aim to finish the race and have fun.
The first few miles flew by. We chatted about funny stories, career goals, and awkward family stories. By mile five, we were joking. By mile eight, the jokes faded. By mile ten, I realized something: running 13.1 miles with someone is the dating equivalent of fast-forwarding through an entire 1-year relationship.
We saw each other at our highs (that runner’s high hit hard around mile four) and our lows (he hit a wall at mile eleven and begged to walk). I encouraged him, offered an energy gel, and cheered him on. But by the time we crossed the finish line—sweaty, out of breath, and holding our medals—we both knew the truth.
It wasn’t going to work out.
There was no drama, no awkward goodbye. I drank my finish line beer, and we got a picture and headed to Chipotle with each other after.
Turns out that a half marathon is a pretty good compatibility test. You see how someone handles pain, patience, pacing, and pressure. You have your disagreements and shared celebrations, and yes, eventually an end.
Would I do it again? Maybe. Would I recommend it as a first date? Only if you’re okay crossing the finish line single—but stronger for it.
At the end of the day, we raised money for a great cause, got our steps in, and left with a story that’s way better than dinner and a movie.
Sometimes, the finish line is really just a new starting point.