My First Marathon

As you might know, I’ve been living in Geneva for almost five months now. You probably also know that I love running. What you might not know is that before moving here, I had only been running for a few months — and I ran my very first half-marathon at the end of last summer.

I enjoyed that first race so much that I signed up for the Zurich Half Marathon this past April. (I’ll probably write a full post about both races at some point — but that’s not today’s story.)

My colleagues in the research group know about my passion for running. After I mentioned the Zurich race to one of them, she suggested I sign up for the Geneva Marathon. Her reasoning? “If you can run 21.1 km, you can run 42.2.” Bold logic, I know. The furthest I’d ever run was 26 km — and that was last summer. Still, long story short: I signed up. And we ran the Geneva Marathon together. Well… we started together.

Was it hard? Absolutely.
Was I ready? Probably not, even though I squeezed in a couple of long runs — 30 and 35 km — in the weeks leading up.
Did I love the experience? Mostly. It wasn’t perfect, but it was powerful. I discovered something new about what my body (and mind) can do. And although I’ll share a full race review another time, today I want to talk about something else: How this weekend helped me feel at home.

The marathon weekend was also the first time I had visitors in Geneva. A good friend from Zurich came for the weekend, from Friday evening to Sunday night. On Saturday, we played tourist: we visited the Red Cross Museum, strolled through Geneva and Carouge, took selfies by the Jet d’Eau, and even discovered the sandy beach at the Plage. We ended the day sipping an Aperol Spritz at a cosy little bar in Carouge — definitely a highlight of the weekend, right up there with the race.

Of course, I took a lot of steps that weekend. And I’ll always be grateful to my friend — not just for cheering me on, but for being there when I finished. He brought the bag I’d packed for after the race, and carried my things home when everything suddenly felt heavy.

But what made this marathon truly different from the Zurich half wasn’t just the distance. When I ran in Zurich, I went alone. I had to stash my stuff in a locker and catch a train right after. No big deal, but no support either.

This time, it was different.

A new friend came to watch me run — and she even snapped a few great photos that are definitely Hinge profile material. Seeing her on the sidelines caught me off guard emotionally. She’d told me she wasn’t sure she could make it, so when I saw her cheering, it meant a lot.

After I finished the race, someone in my research group wrote in our group chat to congratulate the two of us who ran. One of my supervisors even texted me personally to say well done. I later found out they’d been following our progress on the race tracker app. It touched me deeply to know people were thinking of me.

That weekend made something click.

I realized I’m starting to build a support system here. I’m finding my rhythm. I’m discovering places I love. And I’m starting to fall for Geneva — not just as a city, but as a place to live, to belong.

It also reminded me why I wanted to leave Zurich in the first place. I was ready for something new. In Zurich, I’d become a bit lazy with discovery. I’d stopped exploring. But here, I’m always out and about, soaking it in. There’s so much to see and do — and knowing that my time here is limited pushes me to make the most of it.

So, to come back to the theme of spring and new beginnings: yes, I arrived three months ago, but it’s only now that I feel like I’ve really started settling into my new life. Bit by bit, I moved into my tiny, wildly overpriced flat. I started new routines. I started my PhD. I ran a marathon. Furthermore, I’m building something.

And for now, that feels like more than enough.