BY DEEPIKA CHALKE*
On December 14, 2025, I crossed the finish line of the Mississippi half marathon in 1:48, placing 4th in my age group among women runners despite an infected abscess. This was no ordinary race; it was the final piece in a mission-impossible puzzle, a final adventure to fulfill a beloved dream and achieve a milestone highly treasured in the running community. I had finished running a half-marathon or full marathon in all 50 U.S. states, possibly the first Indian woman to accomplish this. I was beyond grateful, stunned, thrilled, and relieved. The first thing I did was call my mom and brother; they were waiting to share this momentous victory.
Twelve months earlier, I had no idea I would finish the acclaimed 50 states dream in 2025. I had 22 states left, I hadn’t been able to run since July 2024 because of an unfortunate health setback, and I had no way of predicting when I could get back to running. All I had was a heart aching to finish 50 states and a strong runner’s body. Perhaps what Paulo Coelho said is true: when you want something, all the universe conspires to help you achieve it.
Running a half-marathon or full marathon in all 50 states is a monumental goal that needs resilience, dedication, and long-term commitment. It means not giving up when the inevitable setbacks and curveballs of life knock you down. It means making space for this goal in your heart and soul until it’s fulfilled. It means training becomes a part of who you are, and running becomes an inextricable part of your identity. Running shoes, nutrition, training, recovery—you get married to it all with the zeal of “till death do us apart.” Destiny will knock at your door and ask you, how badly do you want it? Show me what you are made of. Your love and commitment will be tested, and you will need to endure storms to find the rainbows. But you will be surprised that a heart that refuses to give up moves mountains, and even the universe makes way. This is how my journey unfolded.
In 2025, I ran 23 sub-2-hour half marathons and a sub-4-hour full marathon with travel; that’s a half marathon or full marathon almost every alternate weekend. Such consistent fast finish times in a year are rarely achieved, even by pro endurance athletes.
My first race of 2025 was the Greenville half marathon in South Carolina. I achieved a PR of 1:58 in freezing 28°F weather, bundled up in layers and gloves, scared but determined. I had never run in subzero temperatures; I had no idea how the body would endure and adapt, but I was thrilled to finish strong. Being a runner means enduring tough weather conditions; it’s all part of the journey. Next weekend, I ran the challenging and hilly Publix Atlanta half marathon in 2:01—cold, but thrilled and grateful. Twenty days later, I ran two races on back-to-back weekends: the Heroes of America half marathon, achieving a PR of 1:53 and placing 1st in my age group among women runners, and the Love Run half marathon in historic Philadelphia with a finish of 1:53. Two weeks later, I ran three back-to-back weekend races: the Coastal Delaware half marathon, placing 4th in my age group among women runners and achieving a PR of 1:52; the Charlotte Racefest half marathon in 1:55, placing 6th in my age group among women runners; and the Kentucky Derby half marathon, achieving a dream PR of 1:50.
One of my most adventurous races of 2025 was the Grand Teton half marathon in Wyoming at 6,000 feet elevation. Running at high altitudes is tough on the body, and ideally, you need to acclimatize. Since I didn’t have the opportunity to train at high altitude, I was worried and nervous. I finished in 1:55, placing 3rd out of 179 women runners in my age group, thrilled and grateful. The next weekend, I drove nine hours to West Virginia for an unforgettable half marathon. On the morning of the race, it was foggy and dark at 4:30 a.m. I drove cautiously through the winding mountainous road, following a fellow runner’s car ahead of me. Sometimes getting to the race venue safely feels as challenging as running the race. Since this race had few runners, I was running solo for most of the course; it was mountains and river, and I almost slipped into the muddy river, which would have been fatal and disastrous. I quickly recovered and thanked the universe, being careful while running on the muddy trail. I finished in 1:57, placing 1st in my age group. It had been a tough race—hot and humid—but beautiful and memorable. Seven days later, I was in Alaska for the Anchorage half marathon. I traveled nearly 20 hours, changing multiple flights, and a day before the race explored a beautiful glacier and a wildlife conservation center. On race morning, it was raining and chilly, and I was exhausted. It was a beautiful half marathon through a coastal, fairytale-like forest; I finished in 1:53, thrilled because I had always wanted to run a race in surreal Alaska. The day after the race, I took a train and stayed in Denali, visiting the breathtaking Denali National Park. My return journey back to Atlanta took 24 hours, two flights, and a train ride back from Denali to Anchorage. I fell ill with a bad viral infection after three back-to-back weekend races and all the travel.
One of the most difficult races I ran was the Mad half marathon in Vermont. I ran this super-challenging, hilly race with minimal endurance capacity—ill, coughing, and utterly depleted—two weeks after the Alaska adventure. It was a race like no other; my body had no energy. I finished in 2:13—a miracle—and was grateful to finish in one piece. After the race, I was horizontal on the ground for 30 minutes to recover enough energy to walk again. Ten days later, I ran a challenging half marathon in Minnesota in 80s heat, hot and humid. Running a race in the 80s is tough on the body. I was happy to finish in 1:54. I had been nervous about the summer heat and had prepared with a long cold-water shower in the morning to keep my body temperature cooler.
It had been my dream to run a marathon on my birthday. Three weeks after the Minnesota race, I was in beautiful South Dakota for a full marathon. On race day, my birthday, I woke up at 2:30 a.m., jumped on a shuttle at 3:30 a.m. to the race start, and spent 90 minutes in bone-chilling cold waiting for the race to start. I finished in 3:53, running through the beautiful Black Hills National Forest amid canyons, mountains, rivers, and forests at 6,000 feet elevation, placing 6th in my age group among women runners—an unforgettable birthday. I was focused during the 26.2 miles, balancing the hard effort with soaking in nature’s beauty. At the race finish, a runner had to be treated by emergency paramedics because she nearly collapsed. After a few minutes of rest, she recovered.
Two weeks later, I endured 20 hours of travel to reach Hawaii and ran a challenging, hilly, humid half marathon amid the mystical volcanic mountains and magical rainforests of Kauai. The race ended beside a roaring ocean. This place felt special, like it had an ancient, wise energy that was mysterious, playful, nurturing, but also demanded respect, resilience, and gratitude. It took 24 hours and three flights, including a red-eye flight, to get back home after the race.
Only the toughest and well-trained athletes can race back-to-back weekend half marathons because ideally, 13 days are needed for the body and mind to recover from a hard race effort. Two weeks after the Hawaii race, I ran seven back-to-back weekend races, achieving sub-2-hour PRs in four races and placing 3rd in my age group among women runners in three races, while fasting for Navratri during two races. I ran a half marathon through a beautiful forest in Maryland, finishing in 1:50, missing a PR by three seconds. The next weekend, I ran a half marathon in Iowa, placing 3rd in my age group among women runners and hitting a PR of 1:49. Seven days later, I placed 3rd, received an award, and achieved a PR of 1:48 in the Omaha half-marathon in Nebraska. The following weekend, I was in beautiful Utah, a Mars-like place, finishing a half-marathon through canyons, desert, and mountains and achieving an unbelievable PR of 1:39. I had to catch a red-eye flight from Utah due to flight cancellation; it was tough on the body. I fell ill after Utah, and the universe showed me a miracle.
A week after Utah, I had a race in Rhode Island, but because of a storm, my flights got rescheduled and I couldn’t travel. I thought I had lost my chance to finish the 50 states dream in 2025 after working incredibly hard all year. I cried and felt sad, but decided to attend a beautiful Navratri celebration honoring the Indian goddess. I gained instant positive energy and came back home filled with gratitude and peace. I was stunned when the Rhode Island race organizers agreed to ship me the medal after I submitted a virtual race result of 1:57, which I finished while being ill. The next weekend, I ran a beautiful, windy half-marathon in Atlantic City by the ocean, finishing in 1:51 and placing 5th in my age group among women runners. I was thrilled to receive a jellyfish-shaped race medal. Seven days later, I was in Las Vegas for the final, seventh back-to-back weekend race. I achieved an unbelievable PR of 1:36, placing 3rd in my age group among women runners. To this day, I find it hard to believe that a PR can be achieved on a seventh back-to-back weekend race. I had never before raced seven weekends in a row and had been utterly scared. I am grateful I was able to push my limits and become a stronger athlete.
Three weeks later, I ran a half-marathon in New Hampshire on a cold, overcast, rainy day. This race was special because it was in honor of fallen Army veterans, and during the race, I wore a bracelet honoring a 28-year-old soldier who lost his life in Iraq. My return flight was brutal, taking 21 hours, including spending the night at the airport due to a canceled flight. I consider this race an act of serendipity from the universe. Somehow, I had forgotten about this race, and one night while in bed it hit me that I perhaps had a race I had forgotten. Two weeks later, I ran a half-marathon in Arkansas, surrounded by beautiful forest and river. I finished in 1:46, placing 3rd in my age group among women runners, and for the first time attended an award ceremony where I received an award; it was an amazing experience. Two weeks later, I ran my final, 50th state: Mississippi.
I have finished 76 races: nine full marathons and 67 half marathons. My first half marathon was in Houston in 2013 on a cold, rainy day in 44°F weather. It has been an amazing, unbelievable adventure. Running is a gift. It gives you strength you never knew you had, leads you to the most nutritious food, and teaches you to respect your body by prioritizing rest and care. It pushes you to fulfill tough dreams—the highest form of self-love. The best part is that I get to be a dedicated runner, and I have gained an enduring love rooted in who I am. I will forever be grateful for running.
ADeepika Chalke is a dedicated Atlanta-based runner. She has run nine full marathons and 67 half marathons across all 50 U.S. states. Her fastest half marathon finish time is 1:36, and her fastest full marathon finish time is 3:53. She has run 105 half marathons in 365 days, surpassing the current Guinness World Record for most half marathons in a year by a woman, which is 102. She considers each run an adventure to play and get tougher.
