Kyoto Marathon 2026 Race Report: My First Marathon and a Sub-3
- Alex
- Feb 18
- 5 min read
I stood at the very back of the Kyoto Marathon, 16,000 runners in front of me and no marathon training in my legs... That probably isn’t the recommended approach. But it made for a hell of an experience lol.
No Mileage, No Pressure
I hadn’t been training for a marathon. I hadn’t even really been training for running. Sebastian and I had been ticking over with 5 or 6km runs every other day during the week, and I’d kept my usual interval sessions with Namban on Wednesday nights, but that was about it. No weekend long runs. No gradual mileage build. No structured marathon block.
So my expectations were realistic. I felt relatively fit. But durability is built through volume, and I had none of it.
Still, my spirits were high. Just lining up for the Kyoto Marathon meant I was ticking off another goal for 2026. This was my first official marathon race. I’ve covered the distance before in training and other events, but never in a proper marathon setting. I felt free from any pressure. Somewhere in my head I thought three hours was possible. Maybe 3:02 or 3:05. If things went perfectly, maybe even under three. But I wasn’t attached to it.
A Dark, Quiet Night in Kyoto
We caught the Shinkansen down to Kyoto on Saturday after a short shakeout run in the morning. Snacks and ekibens in hand, of course!
We didn’t do the big tourist circuit. No Kiyomizudera or Fushimi Inari this time. Instead, we wandered through Gion as the light disappeared. The streets were dim, the wooden buildings shadowed, and the temples half hidden in the dark. Even without seeing all the architectural detail, you could feel the history.
By pure luck, we saw a real geisha crossing the road with a client. Later, we spotted another one heading home in a taxi. Those small, unexpected moments made the short trip feel uniquely Kyoto.
I slept well that night, even if excitement kept me from a long, deep sleep. Hydration was on point. The body felt ready.
Bread, Dango and a Fatal Starting Position (again)
Race morning was simple. The hotel breakfast was light, so I ate a couple of pieces of bread with jam, then went down to the konbini for bananas and some sweet and salted dango. Nothing fancy.
After breakfast, we headed out to the race and Sebastian and I wandered around the start area without much urgency. I even questioned whether I needed a warm up at all. It’s 42 kilometres after all.
Then, one minute before the gates closed and with a slight bit of panic from the Japanese officials, I slipped into my assigned starting position. This is when I found out about my fatal mistake.
Because I had not entered a rough finishing time for the marathon, I was slotted in at the back of the field. Group K. The last wave. No one behind me.
This is the second time I’ve made this mistake, and it will be the last. Sixteen thousand runners stood between me and clear road.
The First 13 Kilometres of “Torimasu”
The opening section of the Kyoto Marathon was chaos. For the first 13 kilometres, I was boxed in, weaving, adjusting pace, and running along the edge of the road saying “torimasu” as politely but clearly as possible. At times I’d surge to move through a gap. Other times I’d be stuck with nowhere to go.
It didn’t frustrate me. I was under no pressure. I treated it like a kind of game. A long progression run through a moving crowd.
The race atmosphere made it easy to stay relaxed. Schools and local groups lined the course. Massive taiko drums thundered outside shrines and temples, the deep rhythm echoing through the streets. Cheerleaders performed. Families packed the sidewalks. For almost the entire 42 kilometres, there were people cheering, not in scattered patches but in dense rows.
Japan does race support properly.
Testing the Engine
Around 20 kilometres, the field finally opened up. I had space to run.
Between 20 and 30 kilometres, I decided to test myself. Without forcing anything, I locked into a controlled tempo run. It felt strong but sustainable. My breathing was steady. My heart rate felt under control.
That’s when I knew the engine was there. Cardiovascularly, I could absolutely run a marathon. Possibly a fast one on the right day.
But marathons aren't only about your aerobic fitness..
35 Kilometres: Where Volume Matters
At around 35 kilometres, the reality of no long runs caught up with me.
My legs didn’t explode. They didn’t cramp. They just emptied out. Heavy, flat, and sore in a way that only lack of mileage produces. My technique began to fade. Instead of feeling light and springy on my feet, I started to run into the ground. I could feel blisters forming under my feet, and I knew my toenails were in trouble.
Mentally, I was completely fine. The body, in terms of heart and lungs, could have kept pushing. But my legs were sitting right on the edge of cramping, and with 5 to 7 kilometres left, I made a decision to ease off the pace slightly. I held around 4:15 to 4:20 to the end. Controlled. Safe. No hero moves. I wasn’t going to sabotage the finish for the sake of a marginal time difference.
2:56 and a New Perspective
I crossed the line in 2 hours and 56 minutes.
My first official marathon. I was stoked.
What struck me most was how many runners were stepping off the course in the final 10 kilometres, some even in the last five. Seeing that reinforced something simple in my mind. If you just refuse to quit, you can finish a marathon. The distance is demanding, but it isn’t mythical.
Gusto and the Best Bite of 2026
After meeting back up with Sebastian, we went straight to Gusto and I ate like mAn who had just run 42 kilometres. Pastas, salads, steak, chicken, rice, and dessert covered the table.
The highlight was folding a flaky apple pie filled with strawberry jam, fresh strawberries, and mochi ice cream in half and eating it like a sandwich. It was easily the best bite of 2026 so far and one of my more professional decisions to date.
We went back to the hotel, I napped, then headed out again for dinner. Kyoto was short and sweet. We barely explored beyond that first dark evening walk. The marathon was the focus, and it delivered.
What Comes Next
The Kyoto Marathon taught me that my aerobic fitness is good, but durability requires respect. You cannot shortcut volume forever.
I’ve mapped out a plan for myself over the next year or so. More distance. Smarter build ups. Proper mileage. I want to see what happens when the engine and the durability are aligned.
As the weather warms up, I’m excited to shed this winter weight and feel lighter on my feet. I want to lean into running properly again.
I think I have my sights set on Tokyo next year. LFGG!
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