I recently ran my first marathon, and while I obviously learned a lot about running and about my body, the most important lessons were mental ones, and I want to write about them here.
First, some context: I've been running for a long time, but life led me to become sedentary for a couple of years. Then I pushed myself to run again, and that's how in November 2024 I decided that in September 2025 I would run the Medellín marathon. I've run many races, but never a challenge this big. I started preparing in January, and these are just 5 of the many things I learned.
1. Hard Work Is Everything
Obviously, this wasn't an achievement I got easily. I prepared for almost a year to accomplish it, with 4 months of a structured plan to reach the best physical condition I've had in my life. Although everything matters on race day, it's not a race you run only that day. It's a race you run from much earlier. And sometimes I feel that's how everything in life is. Everything I've experienced has led me to where I am. The effort we make each day is often not valued in the moment, but that effort multiplied by many days is what leads us to achieve great things. There are no shortcuts. There are no magic tricks. Just consistency and discipline.
2. It Doesn't Matter Who Believes as Long as You Believe
Although I don't talk much about myself, when the topic of the race came up, a conversation would start with practically everyone. Everyone gave me lots of encouragement, but I know that deep down many didn't believe it. I even heard some say it, though they didn't realize I heard. But it doesn't matter. I don't blame them. I look at the route map myself and sometimes I don't believe it, even though I already ran it. The point is that it doesn't matter if people believe in you. You have to believe in yourself and, beyond believing, do what you think is right to achieve what you want. If you do that, you'll achieve great things. And if you don't achieve them, you'll still improve along the way, which is already a win.
3. Great Achievements Involve Solitude
On the same day, the 21K and 10K races were also held, and there was a particularly profound and reflective moment for me: when the 21K and 42K routes split. At that moment, you feel a special solitude. A lot of the people cheering on both sides of the street are left behind. You feel a silence that at times is frightening. You start to see fewer runners beside you, and it's for a reason: you're pursuing a very big goal. I'm not saying that 21, 10, and 5 kilometers aren't big goals—I've been there and for me they were—but this distance feels special. And I feel that's how life is. As you get closer to achieving great things, you become more alone because not everyone is at the point of reaching them. And that's okay, it's not something sad, it's simply part of the process. Each person has their own pace and their own goals.
4. There Are So Many Good People in the World
I'm deeply moved by the people who come out to cheer on the runners. They give snacks to help recharge energy, offer water, encourage them. There are children with hands extended for high-fives, entire families with signs, people playing music on the corners. You don't know them. They don't know you. But they're there to support you. To yell "Come on, you can do it!" when you need it most, especially in those final kilometers when your body screams to stop but your mind has to push it forward. That collective energy, that selfless support, reminded me of something important: amid so much negative noise, there are so many good people in the world. People who celebrate your achievements without knowing you, who give you a smile or a shout of encouragement just when you're thinking about giving up. That restores faith in humanity.
5. If I Could Do This, I Can Do Anything
There's a moment in the marathon, around kilometer 32, where everything hurts. Your legs feel like lead, your mind starts negotiating with you ("what if you walk a little?"), and the finish line seems unreachable. It's the famous "wall" that everyone talks about. And in that moment you have to decide: either you give up, or you keep going. I kept going. And when I crossed that finish line, when I saw the medal and knew I had done it, something changed in me. It wasn't just the euphoria of the moment. It was the deep certainty that if I could handle that—months of training, the doubts, the pain, the solitude of those final kilometers—I can handle anything I set my mind to. It's a confidence that can't be bought or inherited. It's earned, kilometer by kilometer, step by step. Now when I face any challenge, personal or professional, I remember that kilometer 32. I remember that I kept going when everything was asking me to stop. And that gives me strength to keep going in whatever comes.
Running a marathon was physically demanding, but mentally transformative. I don't know if I'll run 42 kilometers again, but I know that what I learned in those hours of racing will stay with me for the rest of my life. If you're thinking about a big challenge, whatever it may be, my advice is simple: believe in it, prepare well, and take the risk. It's the only way to achieve things and if for some reason you don't achieve exactly what you're looking for, you'll surely become someone better in the attempt.