For countless runners around the globe, earning a spot on the start line of a World Marathon Major — Boston, London, Berlin, Chicago, New York City, or Tokyo — represents the pinnacle of achievement. It’s the dream, the bucket-list goal, the ultimate validation that years of training, sacrifice, and grit have paid off.
But here’s the uncomfortable truth: the road to that start line isn’t open to everyone. It’s expensive, exclusive, and often stacked in favor of those with access, privilege, and proximity.
And that’s not what running is supposed to stand for.
A Brief History of Access (and Who It’s Been Built For)
The modern marathon was born out of elitism — from its origins as a test of endurance for wealthy men to its slow, begrudging expansion to include women and non-elite athletes.
Women weren’t officially allowed to run the Boston Marathon until 1972. Runners outside the U.S. and Europe faced logistical and financial barriers that made international competition nearly impossible for decades.
Fast-forward to today, and while gender representation has improved dramatically, the gatekeeping has simply evolved. The barriers are no longer written in rules — they’re written in costs.
Entry fees. Travel. Lodging. Fundraising minimums. Visa requirements. The numbers don’t lie: chasing all six stars in the Abbott World Marathon Majors can easily cost $20,000 or more.
The question we have to ask is: Who gets to call this dream achievable?
The Illusion of Access
The World Marathon Majors market themselves as global, but the logistics tell a different story.
The lottery systems for London and Tokyo, designed to “level the playing field,” often heavily favor local entrants. International runners compete for a fraction of available spots while guaranteed entries go to charity programs, tour groups, or corporate partners.
Charity bibs — often held up as the inclusive alternative — come with fundraising minimums that can exceed $5,000. For many runners, especially those outside North America and Europe, that figure is simply unattainable.
And then there’s geography. Even when runners from underrepresented regions do make it in, travel logistics are prohibitive: multi-day flights, language barriers, and visa delays that derail entire training cycles.
If the World Marathon Majors truly represent the world, why do so few runners from Africa, Asia (outside Japan), South America, or Indigenous communities appear at the start lines — outside of the elite field?
The majors have become symbols of status rather than access. A showcase of who can, not who could.
The Human Cost of Exclusion
I’ve coached runners who’ve qualified for Boston but couldn’t afford to go. Others who’ve applied to London five years straight and never made it in. Some who finally got into Tokyo — only to have travel costs triple before they could register.
Their talent wasn’t the barrier. The system was.
When runners from diverse backgrounds can’t participate, we lose far more than just representation — we lose perspective. The power of global connection, cultural exchange, and shared celebration is what makes marathons magical. Without that diversity, we’re left with races that look global on paper but feel increasingly narrow in spirit.
Representation without accessibility is performative. Inclusion without equity is just optics.
What True Inclusivity Could Look Like
To create change, the World Marathon Majors must first redefine what inclusion actually means. Representation on marketing materials doesn’t equal access. Equity requires intentional structure.
Here’s where they could start:
1. Tiered Entry Systems
Lower entry fees for runners from developing countries or low-income brackets. This is common practice in international triathlon and cycling events — it works, and it’s fair.
2. Global Scholarship Programs
Offer travel and lodging grants for economically disadvantaged runners who qualify or are selected through community nominations. A single scholarship per country could create ripple effects of representation and inspiration.
3. Regional Qualification Pathways
Build partnerships with regional marathons that serve as feeders into the majors, with guaranteed entry spots for top finishers or community leaders. This would spotlight runners doing incredible things in underrepresented areas.
4. Tiered Fundraising Minimums
Charity access shouldn’t depend on who has the wealthiest network. Offering sliding-scale fundraising options would democratize access while still supporting good causes.
5. Transparency + Accountability
Require annual reporting on geographic and demographic representation among non-elite entrants. If “global participation” is the mission, then data should tell the truth.
These ideas aren’t radical — they’re reasonable. They already exist in other endurance sports. The WMM could lead the way if it chose to.
A Broader Definition of Inclusion
The conversation about inclusivity in running has largely centered around gender, and while that work must continue, it can’t stop there.
True inclusivity includes:
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Economic equity: Making sure cost isn’t a gatekeeper.
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Geographic diversity: Creating access points beyond Western countries.
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Cultural representation: Uplifting Indigenous and BIPOC voices within the sport.
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Adaptive pathways: Expanding divisions and resources for para-athletes and those with disabilities.
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Community-driven opportunity: Recognizing grassroots programs as valid routes to big stages.
The running community loves to say “everyone’s a runner.” But when participation in its most iconic events remains this limited, that message rings hollow.
The Future of the Majors
The World Marathon Majors have the power to set the tone for the entire global running community. They already inspire millions — now they have the chance to lead by example.
Imagine if WMM implemented tiered pricing and geographic representation standards tomorrow. Imagine seeing runners from Nairobi, Manila, São Paulo, or Indigenous nations lining up alongside Boston locals and Berlin elites.
That’s not just a win for diversity — it’s a win for the sport itself.
Because the true prestige of a marathon isn’t who’s excluded from the start line. It’s who gets the chance to be there.