
Last October 11, over 55,000 runners joined the 48th edition of the Chicago Marathon. Research shows that the average finish time is 4 hours and 30 minutes. (The winning time, recorded by Amos Kipruto, was an incredible 2:01.)
I joined the 2026 Chicago Marathon and my time was 5 hours and 51 minutes.
According to the official results, I ranked 47,799 among all finishers — placing me in the bottom 14 percent of all finishers.
This means that I had a BAD TIME, right?
Absolutely not. I had a good time. In fact, I had a great time.
So herein lies the great debate: Is one happier with a (fast, clock-based) good time or does one savor more the (relaxed, enjoyable) good time?
SLOWLY BUT SURELY. In Chicago, I joined the 5-hour, 45-minute (5:45) pace group led by Guinness World Record holder (and fellow Filipino) JC Santa Teresa, who once completed 21 consecutive days of ultramarathons.
The elite runners started at 7:30 a.m. The Corral A runners blasted off minutes later. After that, Corrals B, C, D… all the way to M.
The last corral was my letter N. We took off at 9:06 a.m. Discouraged? Disheartened that I was in the last group bunched with the slowest of the slow? No.
Which leads me to ask the question: What is a good time? Is it based on the clock, where you chase a sub-3 marathon like a Mary Joy Tabal-Jimenez or a 3:30 time of Dr. Yong Larrazabal or a sub-4 marathon like a Gifford Perral? Those are very good times.
Or is a good time measured by the experience? The truth is: the slower you run, the more you’re able to see and hear everything.
IN CHICAGO, that meant soaking in the energy of 1.7 million spectators that lined the streets from start to finish. I don’t mean to exaggerate this: there wasn’t a single area without people wanting to high-five you or shout your name.
Mile 11 was the best as the cheerers included my relatives Tito Pepe and Tita Terry Girado, cousins Kassie Girado Oliva and Shannel Mangao, and my wife Jasmin. We paused to chat and take photos as they handed me a Hershey’s chocolate.
Along the route, spectators held placards with funny reminders:
THERE WILL BE A DAY WHEN YOU CAN NO LONGER DO THIS. TODAY IS NOT THAT DAY!
THE DEVIL WEARS STRAVA.
REMEMBER: YOU PAID TO DO THIS!
RUN NOW, BEER LATER.
AT LEAST YOU’RE NOT AT WORK!
YOU GOT THAT DOG IN YOU (with a photo of a Chicago hotdog).

So, which “good time” is better?
That depends on how you choose to measure 42.195 kms.
In my case, I’m done chasing the clock. When I started long-distance running in 2007, my aim was to do a sub-Oprah (the famous TV host finished in 4 hours, 29 minutes). Unfortunately, I was never able to do that.
My fastest was a 4:47. I did another over 4:50. But after those, the finishes have been much slower. (Chicago was Marathon No. 11, adding to past finishes in Hong Kong, Manila, New York, Singapore, Jacksonville, Osaka and, of course, Cebu, Philippines.)
Today, my goals have changed. And I’ve narrowed them down to just three:
1. I will not kill myself
2. I will not get injured
3. I will cross that finish line
I WILL NOT KILL MYSELF. Marathon running is no joke. The physical toll goes far beyond your casual 5K, and your odds of dying are surely higher than while on a couch watching Netflix.
Based on statistics, only 1.3 million people finish a marathon each year. This translates to 0.17% of the global human population.
Being part of this “elite” group is triumph enough.
At this point in my life, gone is my old “push-push-push” mantra. Now, I’ve vowed not to die while in training or on race day. (The Chicagao Marathon champ Kipruto and I ran on the same asphalt and received the same medal anyway!)
I WILL NOT GET INJURED. One of the ways to get faster is to do speed work. It’s those intervals, fartleks, Norwegian 4x4s, tempo runs, and hill repeats that make one faster.
But when I incorporated those into my training the past few years, I’ve gotten injured. (You can ask Dr. Ronald Eullaran, Dr. Rhoel Dejaño and Dr. Tony San Juan how many times I’ve visited their clinics.) Nowadays, my training has focused only on the Sunday long runs and just one or two easy runs during the week. Are they too few? Yes. But I don’t care.
I learned the hard way that pushing myself with speed work can come at a price. I’ve been hobbled with tendinitis, iliotibial (IT) band syndrome, plantar fasciitis, and many other injuries.
I now listen to my body more (it always says, “Stop doing this!”). I’d rather be slow and healthy than fast and injured.
I WILL CROSS THAT FINISH LINE. In Chicago, I ran alongside Willie De Guzman (a Filipino who lives in San Diego and who’s completed 85 marathons!), and we moved at a leisurely pace with lots of talking about life.
Our 5:45 pacer JC Santa Teresa deployed a 2-1 run-walk plan. We ran for two minutes and did brisk-walking for a minute. There were about 50 of us in the group, chatting, laughing, and lifting one another up for hours.

Was I happy? Absolutely. It was my first time running with a big pace group, and it turned out to be the most enjoyable 26.2 miles I’ve ever run. (As a bonus, I wasn’t sore at all; that Sunday night, Jasmin and I walked along the Riverwalk without any pain.)
PRAYER. Years ago, my prayer at the starting line was: “Lord, please give me a good time—a sub-5.”
Today, at 54 years old, my prayer has become age-appropriate:
“Lord, please keep me alive (and SMILING) at the finish!”











