It was a gloomy March morning when I closed my eyes and signed up for my seventh marathon alone, this one in Montreal.
Like many others, I started running in 2020, when the pandemic shut down my gym and I needed a safe outlet for my restless energy. I’d never considered myself a runner, and it certainly did not come naturally to me. Back in middle school, when I joined the track team purely for social reasons, I couldn’t even finish a 400-meter race.
Since signing up for the New York City Marathon in 2021, I’ve trained in groups of all sizes, doing intimate runs with two or three friends and large, corporate-led programs with hundreds of other marathon hopefuls. But this summer, I decided to train solo for the first time.
My decision to train solo came down to a few things. After years of group training that often consumed my life for 16 weeks at a time, I was craving balance—space to show up for myself without comparison or external pressure. I wanted to see what it would feel like to rely entirely on my own motivation, to build not just endurance but mental strength. Working one-on-one with a coach also offered something new: a program tailored specifically to my needs, designed to challenge me on my own terms.
Flying home from Montreal, a medal tucked under my sweatshirt, I thought about what I’d gained and lost by training by myself. What do we discover about ourselves when we run alone versus in a pack? To find out, I spoke with runners, coaches, and community leaders of all experience levels who’ve trained every way imaginable.
I trained with Coffey, cofounder of DeFine New York Run Club, for my first marathon before following him as he co-launched the Noname Program in 2022. Designed to help runners of all levels and backgrounds train for the New York City Marathon, Noname remains free and accessible to anyone who wants to join.
Coffey believes that surrounding yourself with others who are pushing themselves through the same workout “helps you to a certain degree. It gives you steam, it gives you hope—and reminds you why you chose to run in the first place.”
Group programs also remove some logistical hurdles. “Having someone else put a plan together, teach you, and champion you can make all the difference,” says Jill Nawrocki, a psychotherapist, certified sports social worker, and longtime marathoner. Reflecting on her own early days of training, she admits that she wishes she’d had a group. “Groups can have a ton of benefits, especially right now, when people are feeling lonely or disconnected.”
Looking back, training with others was always one of my favorite parts of the marathon experience—the energy, the shared suffering, the joy of shutting off my internal GPS and letting someone else lead. I learned how to fuel properly, to hug the blue line to keep my marathon as close to 26.2 miles as possible, and how to fold my paper cup at the water stations, lessons I carried with me into my solo training.
Jenay Meraz, captain of Good Vibes Track Club in Los Angeles and founder of the forthcoming interview series Married to the Miles, joined her first run club in 2012, trained with her teammates for the LA Marathon, and now has nine marathons and a 50K under her belt. When I met Meraz, I was visiting LA during my first marathon training cycle in 2021, she supported me through a 20-mile run that had me in tears. That day taught me what community really means. When choosing a training program, she recommends seeking “alignment—in timing, in energy, and in values.” Diversity, inclusivity, and hospitality also matter to her.
Coffey feels the same way, recommending that you evaluate “the mannerisms and excellence” of both the coaches and the people of the program and, as the Noname instagram suggests, to “run with who you trust.”
When I decided to train on my own for Montreal, I wondered whether I could keep myself accountable. Watching Katrina Makayan, who trained solo for her first marathon, Boston, just a year after taking up running, was inspiring. In my conversation with her, she shared that she saw running as valuable alone time. “You don’t owe anyone anything in that moment—you can turn your brain off,” she said. Knowing her loved ones were excited to cheer her on kept her motivated on the days she didn’t want to run.
Doing it alone also took some of the competitive pressure out of the process. After my sixth marathon in London, I felt completely burned out; the chatter of personal records and upcoming races that once inspired me began to feel daunting. “Comparison can propel us—but it can also keep us from moving forward,” says Nawrocki. “When you train on your own, it allows you to toe the line differently. You get a whole other set of training.”
Standing at the Montreal start line, I realized how true that was. For the first time, I wasn’t thinking about who I’d run with—I was focused on showing up for myself.
With marathon participation consistently breaking records all over the world—and countless running programs to choose from—“it can feel overwhelming” to settle on an approach, says coach Tammy Salazar-Andurand, founder of Women Make Moves. But that growth has also created unprecedented access—for runners of all backgrounds, speeds, and experience levels.
There’s no one-size-fits-all path to marathon training. I look back on my group training seasons with gratitude for the memories and lessons, but I’m equally proud of what I discovered and accomplished running solo.
There were days I needed a friend to distract me mid-run, and nights I procrastinated mapping out my 16-20 mile routes. Still, over those 16 weeks, I managed to build the necessary confidence in myself to cross the finish line once again. I’m enjoying my solo era now—but I know I’ll find my way back to the pack when the time is right.