LOLZLetter 332 | What No One Talks About With the World Marathon Majors
Welcome,
There’s something about the Abbott World Marathon Majors that makes runners lose their minds...in both good and slightly delusional ways. Tokyo, Boston, London, Berlin, Chicago, New York City (and now Sydney). 7 races, six cities, one giant (and often exhausting) goal: collect all the medals, get the fancy Six (seven) Star Finisher plaque, and maybe post a picture holding it up on Instagram with the caption “worth every mile.”
But was it really?
Let’s be honest: chasing the World Marathon Majors is a privilege.
A financial one.
A time one.
A logistical, emotional, and sometimes physical one.
And for a growing number of runners, it’s become the ultimate bucket list...not because it’s necessarily the most joyful or rewarding goal, but because it’s what everyone else seems to be doing.
To be fair, I am kind of bummed I missed my mark on applying for Chicago. But Hollie a few months ago didn't know where life would be come October. It's hard to plan that far out. And sure you can commit to a race a year in advance but there is no guarantee you won't be injured, life won't get in the day, or something won't come up that you can't run. (and the amount of money I've wasted on races I didn't run throughout the years is probably well over $1000)....
A $20,000 Finish Line?
Let’s do some simple math.
Each World Marathon Major entry runs you somewhere between $250 and $400, if you get in. Most don’t, at least not on the first try. Lottery odds are rough. Charity bibs can require fundraising $3,000 to $10,000 per race. And not everyone has the time, effort, and resources to fundraise. It's time consuming and a lot of work.
Travel costs? Flights to Tokyo, hotels in central London, taxis in Berlin, overpriced pasta in New York. Add in race-specific gear, passport renewals, and suddenly your “fun goal” could easily run over $20,000 for the majors. To be able to afford that for a hobby is a privilege. Typically you aren't spending that at your local marathon.
And all of that is assuming your body holds up through separate marathon training cycles. That’s assuming you don’t get injured, sick, or mentally burnt out before you even make it to number three. I've had plenty of friends sign up for a major, only not to run and lose out on money they already spent on hotels, flights, etc.
But Everyone’s Doing It
There’s a weird social pull to the Majors, especially on Instagram. The 7 Star medal is often framed as the ultimate display of running dedication. You see people posing with their hardware in front of global landmarks, collecting medals like stamps in a passport. It looks epic. And it is, in many ways. But it also perpetuates this subtle message that real runners are the ones flying across the world to chase these races. But why? You can finish your hometown marathon 7 times and at the end of the day, both people have finished 7 marathons.
If you tell someone you ran a small-town marathon, they’ll say “cool.” If you say you ran Berlin, they’ll ask how fast you ran it. If you’ve done Boston, they’ll want your qualifying time. And if you’ve done all of them? You’re running royalty now.
But here’s the truth: the Majors aren’t inherently better than other marathons. They’re just more crowded, more expensive, and better marketed. It’s easy to forget that among the 50,000+ runners at these events, there are still thousands of others toeing the line in quieter, less Instagrammed races...working just as hard, chasing goals that don’t come with sponsor booths and post-race cider.
The Invisible Privilege
Running is often touted as an “accessible” sport. Just lace up and go and that's true. But these days in the consumerism world, there is a huge push to have more stuff to be a good runner (I wrote about that in May).
Want to run London? Get ready to spend thousands and win a lottery, unless you live in the UK. Tokyo? Better know someone or go through a tour company. Boston? Train for years just to qualify or fundraise. These aren't just races. They’re gated experiences. And that gate is money.
And yet, people talk about the Majors like they’re a rite of passage. Like you haven’t truly “done marathons” unless you’ve made the pilgrimage to Hopkinton, cried on Fifth Avenue, or crossed the Brandenburg Gate.
The problem isn’t that the Majors exist or that people love them. It’s that we rarely acknowledge how stacked the deck really is. The cost, the travel, the ability to take off work, the child care, the recovery time: it’s not just a medal. It’s a lifestyle that not everyone can afford.
Chasing Meaning, Not Just Medals
If you strip away the hype, the World Marathon Majors are still just 26.2 miles. Same distance as your local fall race. Same distance as that marathon you did three years ago that no one’s ever heard of.
It’s totally fine to want the Majors experience. They can be fun. They’re crowded, loud, emotional, iconic. There’s something magical about running through places like Tokyo or Berlin surrounded by thousands of strangers all doing the same thing.
You don’t have to drain your bank account to be a “real” marathoner. You don’t need a seven Star medal to prove you trained hard. And you certainly don’t have to follow the herd if your heart’s somewhere else.
What If We Looked Around?
What if, instead of obsessing over what races everyone else is doing, we thought about what matters most to us (and that doesn't have to be marathons).
What if you chased the joy of running a beautiful course, or finding a flat PR route, or just racing close enough that your friends and family could cheer without a passport?
Running is personal. And your goals should be.
Conclusion:
And yes...it’s absolutely okay to want the World Marathon Majors. If running through the streets of Tokyo or earning that Seven Star medal lights you up, go for it. Big goals can be incredibly motivating, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be part of something iconic. Just make sure you’re doing it because it means something to you...not because you feel like you have to check a box or keep up with what everyone else is doing.
There’s nothing wrong with dreaming of a Seven Star medal. But let’s be honest about what it takes to get there...and who’s able to pursue it (spoiler: that's not everyone).
The World Marathon Majors are impressive, but they’re also a product of marketing, exclusivity, and privilege. They don’t make you a better runner. They just make you a runner with a different kind of resume.
So if you’re chasing all six, good for you. And if you’re running something different, also good for you because we know the marathon is not the be all, end all.
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This is so true. I think social media has really ratcheted up the FOMO factor. It’s a marketing marvel.
My first “star” was NYC in 1987. I only ran it because my friend lived in NYC and did it every year. I lived in Boston and of course THAT was a big thing, so a BQ was my only real goal, getting that star for the first time in 1989. I ran Berlin in 2020/21 in tribute to my father after he died, since he grew up there. And then I realized I was halfway to six stars so why not try to complete that OG set. I expect to do that at Tokyo next spring. But after that? Yeah, I’d like to see Sydney and CapeTown. Not sure about Shanghai. But I’m retired now and it’s a way to structure my very privileged travel. My favorite marathons though are still the “minors”: Wineglass, Clarence DeMar and Cape Cod.
I agree, nobody should feel pressured to run majors to feel like a real runner! I have a friend who's run a few of them, but she also loves travel and is constantly on the move anyway. For me, the ideal race is one I can drive to morning-of from my house, or at least one that I can road trip to the day before.