Other Hearst Subscriptions We may earn commission from links on this page, but we only recommend products we back went viral. At mile 16, a man hopped the barrier as his girlfriend ran by, got down on one knee, and popped the question. She said yes, hugged him and then jumped back into the race. People clapped and cheered. Most news outlets reported it like a dream proposal. But after I saw the video, I felt a sense of rage building up inside me. This wasn’t romantic, it was annoying.
First I want to say that I don’t know how this woman felt about this proposal. Maybe being proposed to more than halfway through her first marathon was exactly what she wanted. But to me, stopping a woman mid-marathon to propose is literally a man standing in the way of his partner’s goals in order to make it about him.
Men, maybe you think it might seem like the kind of thing you would do if you were the charming male lead in a romantic comedy. Your love interest would look at you, her face completely free of sweat somehow, and say, “Of course. See you at the finish line,” (which would also be a metaphor for your relationship) and then run off. You’d yell to nobody in particular, “That woman’s gonna be my wife!” while the crowd cheers. But that’s not what’s going to happen. First of all she will be sweaty. And second, she might actually be really mad. I would be.
For the woman running, this was her first marathon. Now she’ll never know what her time would have been if she hadn’t stopped to be proposed to. She can’t compare her future marathon times to this one, because probably nobody will ask her to marry them during those.
She didn’t have time to celebrate or kiss him or check out her new ring. And despite men’s best guesses, engagement rings almost always fit weird. When I got engaged, I was scared I’d accidentally flush my ring down the toilet for at least a year. On the race course, I’d worry the entire 10.2 miles to the finish that my new, expensive ring might fall off my finger, roll into a storm drain, and get carried off by one of those rats that collects shiny things.
Aside from being bloated, chafed, and nutrient deprived, during a long distance race your body is pumping as much blood as possible to your muscles and your brain is not working at its peak. Your brain is a foggy mess. At mile 16, I’d mostly be thinking about throwing up, eating a giant cake, or counting the minutes until I can get in bed and watch five hours of Netflix while eating a giant cake. Maybe it’s just personal preference, but I would prefer not to add the emotional weight of making a major life decision to that list.
But mostly, a mid-marathon proposal makes a day that was supposed to be about the person who put months or even years of training into this one day about something else entirely. Proposals are great. And I guess public proposals can even be great if you’re into that kind of thing, even though, full disclosure, I sort of think any kind of public proposal is suspiciously attention-seeking and impersonal.
But if a guy proposed to me during a marathon, I’d have some questions. Were you the one to wake up before dawn to train? Were you the one who ran through the rain and the snow and the heat to get here? The one who sweated so much on summer runs you wondered if you should even bother washing your shorts or just throw them out in one of those hazardous waste bags they use in hospitals? If the answer is no, then why now?
Is it really because you love me and want to spend our lives together or is it because you can’t stand to have my accomplishments stand on their own without you being involved or even topping them?
If you still don’t get it, think of it this way. This is her sport. Can you even imagine if, during a playoff game, the quarterback’s wife charged the field, knocked the ball out of his hands mid-throw and yelled, “I’m late, we’re pregnant!” The crowd probably wouldn’t break into a slow clap.
It’s not exactly the same, but if someone proposed to me in the middle of a marathon I’d spent months training for, it would feel like that. So please, dudes, save the proposals at the very least for after she crosses the finish line. Let her have her moment. Maybe let her have a shower, too. She earned it.