Chasing Six Stars: What I Learned Getting Into All 6 World Marathon Majors
My recommended entry path for each major
| Race | My top recommendation | Notes |
|---|---|---|
| Chicago | Lottery or time qualify | One of the more accessible majors to enter |
| London | Charity entry | The ballot is extremely competitive; charity is the most reliable path |
| Boston | Time qualify | The only realistic general entry option; no lottery exists |
| Berlin | Lottery or tour operator | If the lottery doesn’t work out, a tour operator is a solid backup |
| New York City | Tour operator or 9+1 program | Tour operator is a great guaranteed option; 9+1 is good if you live in the NYC area |
| Tokyo | Charity or tour operator | Read below for important details on how Tokyo’s charity process actually works |
My Story
There’s a question every runner eventually asks after crossing their first finish line: What’s next? For me, the answer started with a stroke of dumb luck, a lottery win for the Chicago Marathon that I hadn’t really expected, and grew into a three-year journey across four countries, six cities, and thousands of miles of pavement. The World Marathon Majors (Chicago, London, Boston, Berlin, New York City, and Tokyo) are the pinnacle of marathon road racing. Together, they represent something rare: a pursuit that’s equal parts athletic challenge and logistical puzzle.
Here’s the thing nobody tells you upfront: running the six majors is hard. But getting into them? That’s a whole different kind of hard. Each race has its own culture, its own entry system, and its own unwritten rules. I learned most of them the hard way, and this is what I wish someone had told me.
Chicago: Where the journey begins — October 2023
Chicago’s entry process is one of the more accessible among the majors, a lottery that opens in the fall and processes entries in a matter of months. Guaranteed entry is also available through official tour and travel partners, and charity bibs are available through the Bank of America Chicago Marathon’s charity program. Set a calendar reminder and apply as soon as registration opens, because the lottery fills quickly and closes with little warning.
Everything about Chicago in October 2023 was smooth and well-organized from the moment I arrived. One of the race’s underrated advantages is that it’s a loop course, meaning you start and finish in the same place in Grant Park, which makes logistics dramatically easier than point-to-point races. The hotels are clustered close to the start, so there’s no complicated travel in the early morning darkness. Even the security line, which looked intimidating, moved in under ten minutes. The staff were efficient and clearly had done this before.
The course itself is flat, fast, and full of personality. Chicago’s neighborhoods each bring something different to the race, as you move through distinct communities, each with its own crowd energy and its own flavor. The last few miles heading into the finish in Grant Park were electric. There were a few quieter stretches along the way where the crowd thinned out, but never enough to dampen the experience. My wife came out to cheer me on, which gave me a genuine boost at exactly the right moment.
It was also in Chicago that the six-star idea went from vague daydream to actual plan. A lottery win, pure luck and nothing more, had set this whole thing in motion, and suddenly I was doing the math. If Chicago was already on the calendar, how could I get the rest?
London: The crowd that never quit — April 2024
London is beloved and brutally competitive to enter. The public ballot opens every spring and closes quickly, with acceptance rates that have historically hovered around 3 to 5 percent. Most applicants enter year after year before getting in. There is a “Good for Age” (GFA) entry standard for runners who’ve completed a certified marathon under a set time for their age group, which offers a more reliable pathway. But for many international runners, charity entry is the most practical route, as thousands of runners raise money for official partner charities in exchange for guaranteed entry.
That’s how I got in. The charity I ran for was focused on helping sick children in the hospital, and honestly, raising money for a worthy cause made the fundraising feel like part of the experience rather than a burden. My advice: don’t rely on the ballot alone, and if you go the charity route, choose an organization you actually care about. You’ll be fundraising through your hardest training weeks, and the motivation matters.
London in April 2024 became my favorite marathon I’ve ever run, and I say that having now run all six majors (plus more). Part of it was my finish time. But the bigger part was everything else. The scenery is extraordinary from start to finish. You run past London Bridge, past Big Ben, through stretches of the city that feel like a living history lesson, and you finish near Buckingham Palace. Almost every mile has something worth looking at.
But what made London truly special was the crowd. The crowd was absolutely mental the entire way. Not loud in spots and quiet in others, but loud everywhere, continuously, without pause. There were no dead zones, no stretches where you felt alone. The last six miles running along the Thames were something I will never forget. The noise, the energy, the sheer enthusiasm of people who had come out just to cheer strangers through 26.2 miles, it was electric from start to finish. London set a standard that no other major quite matched.
Boston: The one you have to earn — April 2025
Boston stands apart from every other major because there is no general lottery. You qualify or you don’t. (Charity is an option but that wasn’t attractive to me.) The Boston Athletic Association sets qualifying standards by age group and gender, and even hitting your qualifying time (a “BQ”) doesn’t guarantee entry. Registration fills on a rolling basis, and in competitive years you may need to run faster than the standard just to secure a spot before registration closes.
I earned my 2025 entry the hard way, through a time qualification at the Erie Marathon the autumn before. That was the only path I was willing to take. I wanted to know I’d gotten there through my own effort. If that’s your mindset too, give yourself at least one full training cycle dedicated specifically to the qualifying attempt, and run a tune-up race six to eight weeks out to calibrate your fitness honestly.
The vibe surrounding the Boston Marathon is unlike anything I’d experienced. The entire city leans into it, with storefronts decorated, pop-up shops everywhere, and the finish line on Boylston Street turned into a full production that draws crowds days before race day. The energy of the city leading up to the gun is genuinely special.
The race itself, though, humbled me. Boston is a point-to-point course, which meant an early alarm, a bus ride out to the start in Hopkinton, and then a long wait before the gun. The course has quiet stretches, longer and more frequent than I expected. And the year I ran it, the heat was brutal. I underestimated the sun and paid for it with a pretty solid sunburn. More importantly, I underestimated the hills. Everyone told me they would be hard. I nodded along and didn’t fully believe them. The hills absolutely crushed me, and for the first time in any marathon, I walked. I made it over the hills, but with two or three miles left my hamstrings locked up with cramps, and I had no choice but to slow to a walk. The lesson I took away: pack extra salt tabs.
Still, crossing that finish line on Boylston Street was one of the most meaningful moments of this entire journey.
Berlin: Fast course, hot day, fascinating city — September 2025
Berlin has a reputation as the world’s fastest marathon course (seven of the ten fastest times ever run have happened here), and the entry process reflects how popular that makes it. The lottery is competitive, and I missed it three years in a row before getting in through Marathon Tours and Travel, which bundles race entry with accommodation and trip logistics. It costs more than a standard bib, but for international runners who’ve had lottery misses stack up, it’s a legitimate and well-organized option.
The city itself was worth the trip regardless of the race. Berlin is fascinating in a way that’s hard to fully articulate. The fall of the Wall is recent enough that its traces are everywhere, in the architecture, the neighborhoods, the memorials, the energy of different parts of the city pressing up against each other. It’s also an incredibly diverse and dynamic place. I loved exploring it, taking tours, and learning the history in person.
One thing I would not recommend: a Segway tour the day before a marathon. I thought it would be easier than walking around the city. It is not. It’s just a lot of standing and time on your feet, exactly what you don’t want in the 24 hours before a race.
The race itself was fast and flat, which is everything you want from Berlin. What nobody can plan for is the weather. The days before were cool. The days after were cool. Race day started at 70 degrees and climbed to 80 by the finish. By mile two I was completely drenched. By mile 14, I was walking through every water stop just to manage the heat. It was a tough day. Berlin will give you a fast course, but what it gives you weather-wise is a different matter entirely.
New York City: Running it with a friend — November 2025
New York is the most complex entry system of the six, and in some ways the most generous, with multiple genuine pathways in. The standard lottery releases results in the spring, but extremely low chances of getting in. Time qualifiers can bypass it entirely. Charity entry is widely available. Tour operators like Marathon Tours and Travel are another solid option for guaranteed entry. And then there’s the 9+1 program, unique to New York: run nine qualifying NYRR races in a calendar year, volunteer at one, and you earn guaranteed entry to the following year’s marathon. It’s a brilliant system that rewards commitment to the running community rather than just luck.
What made my November 2025 New York experience stand out wasn’t the entry process. It was who I ran it with. A good friend joined me for this one, and running a marathon alongside someone you know changes the whole texture of the experience. It’s less lonely in the quiet miles and more celebratory at the finish.
Like Boston, New York is point-to-point, which means an early wake-up, buses to Staten Island, and a long wait before the start. Factor that into your preparation. The bridges, though, people made them sound as daunting as the Boston hills. They weren’t. There’s some elevation, but nothing that should worry anyone who’s trained properly. After Boston, they barely registered.
When the crowds showed up, they were extraordinary. First Avenue and Fifth Avenue in Manhattan were on another level, the kind of noise that gets into your legs and pulls you forward. New York doesn’t have London’s consistency, but its peak moments are as good as anything in the sport.
Tokyo: Closing the chapter — March 2026
The Tokyo Marathon is one of the most oversubscribed races on the planet. The international lottery is highly competitive, and many runners turn to authorized tour operators who bundle race entry with hotel and travel packages. Charity entry is also listed as an option, but the Tokyo charity process is meaningfully different from what you’ll encounter at other majors, and it’s worth understanding before you pursue it.
At races like London, charity entry means setting up a fundraising page and rallying friends, family, and colleagues to donate toward a minimum target. Tokyo doesn’t work that way. Instead, you agree upfront to pay a fixed lump sum directly to the charity once you are selected. There’s no fundraising page, no campaign, no public effort. It’s essentially a direct payment in exchange for a bib.
What makes it more complicated is the sheer number of charities involved. Tokyo has dozens of official charity partners, and each one sets its own distinct eligibility criteria for who they will select. Some restrict entry to Japanese residents only. Others have specific requirements around age, running history, or affiliation. You have to go through each charity individually, read their criteria carefully, and find one that works for you. It takes time and patience, but it is a workable path if you’re willing to do the research. And be prepared to submit your application to the charity right away because some of them use submission time as a way to help pick their runners.
I’ll be straightforward about the race itself, because I think honesty serves fellow runners better than hype: it was my least favorite of the six. My time was fast, the course is flat and well-run, and I crossed that finish line in March 2026 with a genuine smile on my face and immense pride in what the journey had become. I wouldn’t trade it.
But the course leans heavily on out-and-backs, which means the scenery gets repetitive in a way that the other Majors don’t. And the crowd was by far the quietest of any major I ran. There were pockets of real enthusiasm, moments where the energy spiked, but they were long dead spots in a sea of polite, quiet observation. No dead spots in London. Plenty of them in Tokyo.
I’m glad I finished here. I’m proud of the six-star medal. But if you’re considering Tokyo purely for the race experience, I’d temper your expectations. If you’re chasing the full set and the extraordinary feeling of completing something you started years ago, then Tokyo delivers exactly what it needs to.
What I’d tell anyone starting this journey
Six majors. Six cities. Six different doors to walk through, over the span of about 29 months.
No two entry processes are the same, and no two race experiences are the same either. Some courses will lift you; others will humble you. Some crowds will carry you through every mile; others will leave you alone with your thoughts for long stretches. The heat will surprise you. The hills will surprise you. The logistics will test you before the race even starts.
Plan for more than one entry attempt at each race. Research every pathway, not just the lottery. Give yourself room in the calendar for training cycles between races, as three majors in a single year, as I did in 2025, is doable but demands respect. And pack your salt tabs.
Most importantly: let the journey be the point. The six-star medal is real and it’s meaningful. But the version of yourself you become chasing it, that’s what you actually take home.
A word on Marathon Tours and Travel
One resource I’d be doing you a disservice not to mention is Marathon Tours and Travel. I used them to get into both Berlin and New York and came away genuinely impressed. They are a well-run, reputable company that can get you entry into a number of major races that might otherwise take years of lottery attempts. The price premium over a standard entry is real, but it’s honestly not a significant markup given what they’re providing. You’re paying for certainty, logistics support, and access, and for most runners chasing the six stars, that’s worth something.
The most valuable thing they offer, in my view, is their 7 Continents Club. Members get priority access to some of the most competitive races on the circuit, including London and New York. The key detail about the club is that tenure matters: the longer you’ve been a member, the earlier your access window opens relative to newer members. That means the sooner you join, the better positioned you’ll be when you’re ready to pursue the harder-to-enter races. Membership is a one-time fee of $200, and if you’re serious about completing the six majors, it’s one of the smarter early investments you can make in the journey.

