I am not a fast runner; in fact, I never was. Let’s establish that early, so expectations are properly managed.
When I ran the Walt Disney World Half Marathon in 2009, my goal was not victory, glory, or qualifying for anything other than a decent breakfast afterward. My goal was simple: experience the thing. And Disney, to its credit, is very good at making “the thing” worth experiencing. And what an experience it was.
Pre-Dawn Optimism (and Cold)
The day began the way all great endurance stories do: standing in a pre-dawn corral, questioning my life choices.
It was cold. Not “New England winter” cold, but cold enough that you start wondering why you flew to Florida only to shiver in running shorts. Around me were thousands of runners wrapped in old sweatshirts and blankets destined for donation bins, bouncing in place to stay warm, all wearing the same expression: equal parts excitement, mild regret, and awe.
Then the music started. The lights came up. And suddenly, you’re running.
Through the Parks, Through Memory
There’s nothing quite like running through the parks while most of the world is asleep. You move through the streets and back areas of the so-called “Happiest Place on Earth,” places you normally never see, which somehow makes it feel more special—like you’ve been let in on a secret.
You pass landmarks that usually involve stroller traffic and snack decisions, now devoid of anything but footfalls and cheering. It’s surreal in the best way. Your legs are working, your brain is still waking up, and your inner child is doing cartwheels.
Costumes, Smiles, and Zero Shame
One of the best parts of a Disney race is the runners themselves. People show up in full costume. People show up smiling. People show up smiling in full costume, which feels like a direct challenge to the laws of physics and comfort. And yet, it works.
There’s an unspoken agreement on the course: this is not about winning. This is about showing up, enjoying it, and occasionally stopping for a photo with a character mid-race because—let’s be honest—you’re never explaining not stopping for that picture later.
I absolutely stopped. Zero regrets.
Characters, Cheers, and Unexpected Motivation
Characters line the route. Spectators cheer like you’re all personal heroes. Volunteers treat you like you’ve already accomplished something meaningful—even though you’re technically still in the middle of it.
That encouragement matters more than people realize. At some point, when your legs start negotiating terms, it’s surprisingly effective to hear a stranger yell your name or watch someone in a foam costume clap like you’re running an Olympic final.
The Finish—and Then…Epcot
Crossing the finish line felt exactly the way it should: proud, relieved, and just a little stunned. I had done the thing. I had earned the medal. I had survived the corral cold, the miles, and my own pacing decisions.
And the best part?
The day wasn’t over.
I still had energy. I still had friends, old and now new. I still had a full day ahead—heading to Epcot, walking around with that quiet, satisfied soreness that says, Yes, I ran a half marathon this morning. No, I will not be carrying anything heavy other than that first drink when I hit Canada.
Why runDisney Works
That’s the magic of Walt Disney World Marathon Weekend and runDisney (the current running umbrella for Disney) in general. They don’t strip the joy out of running in the name of competition. They add joy to the challenge.
It’s about the miles, sure—but it’s also about the memories. The laughter. The costumes. The cold morning that turns into a story you’ll tell years later. The finish line that doesn’t end your day, but launches it.
I didn’t run to win.
I ran to remember.
And although it’s been a while, I’d do it again if I could—probably with another character photo stop. But that is a story for another time.