If you’ve spent any time at all around Indy Runners & Walkers, you’ve probably met Mark Nickerson: board secretary, consummate planner, enthusiastic cheer-squad member, smartphone photographer extraordinaire, and until very recently… a proud “never-marathoner.” His words, not mine.
But last fall, something changed.
On a cool October morning last year, Mark crushed a 20-mile Run the Monon training run — the kind of run that normally triggered his “never again” reflex — and instead of shutting the door on 26.2, he cracked it wide open.
Three weeks out from the 2024 Monumental, he made a bold move: he upgraded his race registration from the half to the full.
“I went into the full with a ‘why not’ attitude,” Mark told me. “My goals were, in order: don’t die, don’t require an ambulance, pretend that I don’t have a massive head cold, pretend that I had enough training mileage in the books, and just cross the finish line.”
I sat down with Mark recently for a brief interview.
What first motivated you to run your very first marathon?
I have been vocal about being a “never-marathoner” for many years. (Just ask Sam [Losier] and Tracy [Snider].) The half marathon distance seemed like my sweet spot, so I committed to that distance. That didn’t make it an easy race distance. It still required training and preparation.
My half marathon training method had been to follow the advanced marathon plan anyway. I wanted to do more than just enough to prepare for the half, so that my confidence was high, and my body felt very prepared. This means that over the last few years, I was excited to do the 20-miler option in our Run The Monon event. I had never run that far, and in the first few years I swore I would never do it again.
But 2024 was different. I finished the 20 miles strongly enough that I started rethinking my reluctance to do a full marathon. With only three weeks until the Monumental, I paid the difference to upgrade from the half to the full. The timing was awkward in one way and liberating in another. Our plans were preparing us for the taper, but I knew that I needed more mileage. Yet I was able to go into the full with a ‘why not’ attitude. This meant that my goals were, in order, don’t die, don’t require an ambulance, pretend that I don’t have a massive head cold, pretend that I had enough training mileage in the books, and just cross the finish line.
What do you wish you had known before training for your first 26.2?
Per the answer above, I wish that I had known how important the weekly total mileage in the plans were. Because I was “over-achieving” by following the marathon plan, which I was not going to actually cash in, I did not do all of the runs in the plan. Tuesdays, Thursday and Saturdays were baked into my training cycle. But the “alone time” Sundays and Wednesdays were “maybes” for me.
Can you describe a memorable Monumental Marathon experience?
There are three significant memories for me.
First: I could not believe how many friends and family members were out cheering us all on. That was so powerful.
Second: When I was reaching the Burdsal [Parkway] section of the course, I was questioning every single life decision. This section is in a part of town where there are fewer spectators. Then I saw Olga [Warner]! We locked eyes and she knew that I was in a bad place. She started running with me, and managed to get me re-focused. So huge; so desperately needed.
Third: Part of what kept me pushing through those final miles was knowing that I would see the Indy Runners and Walkers Cheer Zone before getting to the finish line. The thought that someone I knew might be standing there waiting for friends and fellow club members to pass by kept me motivated – and got me to dig deep and find a faster pace. As I turned onto New York [St.], before I was near the actual Cheer Zone, there was D’Lisa [Patterson]! She was so fired up – for me!! I’ll never forget these moments.
What’s one training mistake you made early on that you’ve since learned from?
I have learned the value and utility of a hydration and nutrition plan. As I have learned more, and tested gels and timing, I have continued to make tweaks to this plan. For example, after learning both my sweat rate and my sodium loss rate, I made tactical adjustments to my plan. I add a sodium supplement to the fluids in my 1.5 liter fluids bladder (which for me includes scoops of Tailwind).
During a race, a person can execute based upon time or distance. My choice has been distance. This means knowing the total grams of carbs needed every four miles. I’ve also learned the value of a hydration vest to carry my fluids and gels. Well worth it.
What’s the single best piece of advice you’d offer to someone running their first marathon at Monumental this year?
I think that my advice would be to allow yourself to “geek out” on the available resources for runners. In my case, I subscribe to Runners World. I get the magazine, but I browse the emails. Articles may catch my interest (Strong glutes! Rest days! Strength training! Weekly mileage! Increase your cadence! etc.), and I read about them, as they pertain to me and my own journey. And because technology is nosey, I end up with related materials in my Instagram feed, so I indulge a bit more with the different sources of info on the topic of the moment.
Okay, last question. What has running marathons taught you about yourself?
That I can do a hard thing.
Mark’s story is a reminder that none of us really wake up one morning magically “ready” for a marathon or half marathon. We chip away at doubt, we learn to fuel and hydrate and curse Burdsal Parkway’s broken pavement like everyone else. And then one day we look up and realize we’re doing the thing we once swore we’d never do. The best part? We don’t do it alone. We do it with Olga, D’Lisa, Tracy, Sam, Paul, and any number of Brians and Andrews, yelling like we’re leading the Olympic Trials, with friends lining the streets just to hand us belief when ours is running low.
As we roll toward the 2025 Indianapolis Monumental Marathon on November 8, here’s hoping Mark’s “why not?” attitude catches on. Maybe this is your year to upgrade, to take a chance on yourself, to discover that you too can do a hard thing. And if you’re out there cheering instead, remember you’re part of someone else’s finish-line story. Either way, lace up — the next chapter starts the moment you say yes.
