Chicago 2022: The DNF that became my biggest running breakthrough

Chicago 2022: my first, and so far only, Did Not Finish marathon. And at the time, it felt like the end of the road. I was frustrated, disheartened, and genuinely considered quitting running.

I had been training with complete focus for a sub-3:20 marathon. It was my first time working with an online coach, and I was determined to follow the training plan to the letter. But some runs felt too easy, so I took matters into my own hands. I added mileage. I sped up certain sessions. I thought I was being smart, strong, even ahead of the curve. I wasn’t. I was setting myself up for failure without realizing it.

⚠️ Ignoring the signs

Three weeks before the race, I did my last long run, about 35 kilometres, and felt incredible at the time. But just an hour after finishing, I noticed a pain creeping into my right heel. I brushed it off. It didn’t seem serious. The next day, I had a special 10K planned, running alongside my 80 year old father. I knew it would be at a slow pace, so I told myself it wouldn’t make a difference. But in looking back, that weekend marked the beginning of what would become a long injury saga.

In the days that followed, the heel pain didn’t go away. I started doing physio. I got insoles. I even had anti-inflammatory injections. But here’s the thing: I never stopped running for more than two days. I kept thinking I could push through it, that it would eventually sort itself out. I was wrong.

I flew to Chicago as planned, still hoping the pain would disappear or at least become manageable. But while sightseeing in the days before the race, I could feel it getting worse. Sharp, stabbing pain with every step. And yet, I still lined up at the starting line. I wanted to believe that the race day adrenaline would carry me through.

🏁 When race day becomes reality

And it did; for a while.

The crowd was amazing, the atmosphere electric. For the first few kilometers, I was so taken by the energy around me that I almost forgot about my foot. Almost. At first, the adrenaline masked it. But with each passing mile, the pain surged like a wave. My right leg was barely cooperating—I was limping, gritting my teeth, fueled only by stubbornness. I kept telling myself to just hold on a little longer. But by kilometer 28, the pain had won. I stepped off the course, heartbroken.

That moment broke me.

It wasn’t just the physical pain, it was everything I had poured into those four months of preparation. The sacrifices I made, both personally and professionally. The early mornings, the long runs, the belief that this race would be a turning point. And there I was, sitting on the side of the course, watching runners pass me by, knowing I couldn’t continue.

That DNF – those three letters – cut deeper than I ever expected. But it was also the wake-up call I desperately needed.

🩹 Recovery, the right way

After the race, I didn’t run for quite a while. Not only because of the injury, but because I didn’t feel like a runner anymore. I was frustrated and mentally drained. But I eventually chose a different path. This time, I rested properly. I listened to my physio. I followed the recovery plan by the book. Two months later, I tried platelet-rich plasma (PRP) therapy for the first time.

Six months after Chicago, I cautiously returned to running. Short, easy runs. Testing my foot. Waiting for a sign that I could trust my body again. When the pain didn’t come back, I started pushing a little harder. Eventually, I signed up for the Lisbon Marathon but with a different mindset. No pressure. No obsession over numbers. Just gratitude for being healthy and able to run.

And wouldn’t you know it, I broke my personal best by 20 minutes.

🔁 The journey continues

That was the real turning point. From Lisbon, I went on to run the Valencia Marathon just six weeks later. I wasn’t just back, I was stronger, wiser, and more in tune with myself.

Looking back, Chicago 2022 didn’t mark the end of my running journey. It was the detour I needed. A painful but powerful reminder that more isn’t always better, that rest is not a weakness, and that sometimes, stepping back is the only way to move forward.

That DNF didn’t end my story, it reshaped it.

And now, I’m always looking forward to running the next mile.