The Original San Diego Marathon — 18 Years Later I Came Back For Round Three

My 127th Marathon

Some races are just another race.
Some become part of your story.
San Diego falls into the second category.

This race was my first marathon back in 2008.

I came back and ran it again in 2022 with Becky while she was chasing her goal of 100 marathons.

And on May 31, 2026, I lined up for the third time.

Marathon number 127.

Different body.
Different life.
Same city.
Same challenge.

And apparently the same bad habit of not training enough.

The Original Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon

If you’ve never run a Rock ‘n’ Roll event, San Diego is where it all started.

This is the original.  The race that launched the series.

And after all these years, it’s still one of the most entertaining marathons in the country.

Bands.
Crowds.
Volunteers.
Neighborhood support.
Music throughout the course.

You never feel like you’re running alone.

Which is important because San Diego has a way of making you question your life choices around mile 20.

The Great Sea-Level Lie

People hear “San Diego” and immediately think:

“Sea level.”

True.  
But that’s only part of the story.

San Diego is basically San Francisco’s sneaky cousin.

The hills never seem dramatic when you’re driving around.

Then you try running 26.2 miles through them.

By the end of the day they feel a lot more noticeable.
Especially when your training hasn’t exactly been elite.

And mine definitely wasn’t.

The combination of hills, humidity, and rising temperatures eventually caught up with me.

As marathons usually do.

Why do I keep doing these again?  “Somebody stop me!”

Expo Day

One of my favorite moments happened before the race even started.

I spotted a Marine standing in front of me to get his race bib wearing a shirt that said:

“Pain Is Weakness Leaving The Body.”

As marathon runners, we like to pretend we live by that philosophy.

The reality is usually more like:

“Pain is my body reminding me I should have trained more.”

Still, it made me laugh and I had to snap a photo.

The expo itself was well organized as usual and packed with runners from everywhere.

And like every good marathon expo, it found a way to separate runners from their money.

Lululemon was one of the sponsors.
Forget “pain is weakness leaving the body.”
Lululemon for runners is usually money leaving their wallet.

Why We Already Signed Up Again

One of the funniest moments of the weekend happened at the expo.

Becky looked at the current registration price.

About $250.
For the half marathon.

That was enough to make both of us cringe.

Then the race offered a heavily discounted registration for next year and threw in a free shirt.

So naturally we signed up again.

Because runners are apparently willing to make major financial decisions for a banana and a T-shirt.

La Jolla, Seals, Ocean Views, and Bagels

One of the best parts of destination races is everything that happens outside the race.

We spent time exploring La Jolla.

Watched the seals.
Walked along the coastline.
Took in the ocean views.

…And found an amazing bagel shop.

The bagels were crazy good and they gave us a bag of them that we shared with a homeless guy.
The scenery in San Diego is never bad either.
If you haven’t been to San Diego, just put it on your bucket list.

There are worse ways to spend a marathon weekend.

Race Morning

The race starts in Balboa Park and winds its way through many of San Diego’s iconic neighborhoods.

There is a massive hill from about mile 22 to mile 24 that makes you question every decision that brought you to San Diego.

At the top they let runners ring a bell.

Which is nice.

Then you immediately run downhill for about a mile and destroy your quads.

The start area was organized and easy to navigate.
I saw this elite runner at the start and asked her, “So, what are you planning to run it in?”  She looked like if there was a strong wind it would blow her over, think like negative body fat.  She casually said, “Probably a 2:45.”  Of course she would, this woman was a Runner Freak if there ever was one.  Which is one of the amazing things about running marathons is that you see and meet people who are fast, slow and slower.

The woman running a 2:45 marathon and the guy trying to break 6 hours are standing in the same corral wearing the same bibs doing the same event.

The course is easy to follow with thousands of people running you’re not going to get lost.

Volunteers and aid stations are great.
And thousands of runners gathered before sunrise waiting for another long day of questionable decision-making.

Becky was running the half marathon.
I was running the full.

Which meant we’d eventually separate and run completely different races.

The Course

The thing I have always liked about San Diego is that it feels alive.

You run through neighborhoods.

Past spectators.
Past bands.
Past people sitting outside restaurants drinking coffee while wondering why thousands of runners voluntarily do this to themselves.

The support throughout the course remains one of the race’s biggest strengths.

The challenge is that the course keeps asking questions.
And eventually your legs have to answer.

Mine answered:

“Not today.”

Mile 18 Through 26

The wheels didn’t completely come off.

But they definitely got a little wobbly.

The combination of:

limited training
humidity
heat
hills

and accumulated marathon mileage over the years

started taking its toll.

At that point the goal changes.

You’re no longer racing.
You’re managing.

And every experienced marathoner understands the difference.

The Finish

Eventually the finish line appeared.

Just like it always does.

After 127 marathons I’ve learned something:

The finish line never cares how fast you were.
It only cares whether you kept moving.

My final time:

👉 5:09:47

Not my fastest.
Not my slowest.

But another finish.
Another medal.
Another memory.

The Medal

The medal this year was fantastic.

Bright colors.
Palm trees.
San Diego skyline.

Everything you’d want from a destination marathon medal.
One of the better medals I’ve added to the collection.

And after 127 marathons, that’s saying something.

Why This Lives On Runner Freak

Most runners will never remember my finishing time.

Honestly, neither will I.

But I’ll remember:

• The Marine’s shirt.
• The seals in La Jolla.
• The bagels.
• The ocean.
• The hills.
• The heat.
• The quad burn

Signing up for next year before we even left.

That’s what running becomes after enough races.

Not statistics.

Stories.

And that’s exactly why Runner Freak exists.

Want To Post Your Own Running Story?

You don’t need to run 127 marathons.

Maybe you:

• ran your first 5K
• finished your first half marathon
• volunteered at a race
• paced a friend
• have a story worth telling
• were a spectator handing out Jello shots

Those count too.

👉 Join RunnerFreak and create your first story.

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Because eventually the miles fade.

The stories don’t.