Inside Nike's all-women half-marathon in L.A.: the good, the bad and the surprising

Los Angeles Times

a day ago

After running — or more like barely surviving — my first half-marathon about a decade ago in Las Vegas, I had no desire to participate in a long-distance run ever again.
That was until I learned that Nike was hosting the Nike After Dark tour, a women's race series designed to celebrate women and encourage them to get into the sport. The L.A. half-marathon — the tour's only stop in the U.S. — was slated to include a concert with Grammy-winning rapper Doechii at the end of the 13.1 mile race. Given that Nike has built a reputation for curating cool, culture-forward experiences, I figured this would be the perfect way for me to get out of my years-long retirement from running. Plus, several of my friends were participating so it was bound to be a good time.
After training for several weeks at parks and tracks around L.A., I hit the pavement alongside nearly 15,000 participants — 43% of whom were first-time half-marathoners — on Saturday evening at SoFi Stadium in Inglewood. The event sparked a lot of online chatter — not all positive — with some runners calling the race disorganized and a marketing event catered to influencers. As for me, I experienced several highs during the energetic event, but also some moments of frustration and confusion. Here's how the night went down, from the starting line (and the journey in getting there) to the high-octane concert finale.
Knowing that thousands of people were expected to participate in the event, I opted to get to the SoFi Stadium about an hour and a half early to avoid traffic. In hindsight, I should've arrived even earlier. Several streets were blocked off due to the race, but once I found the parking lot, it was easy for me to find a spot — much easier than it was at the recent Kendrick Lamar and SZA concert a few weeks prior. (While registration for the race started at $150, parking was thankfully free for those who secured a spot ahead of time.)
I followed a herd of people toward the entrance where we went through a security checkpoint, then a bag check line, which took about 30 minutes to get through. Afterward, I rushed outside to find my friends and waited in yet another line — this time for the porta-potties — which took about 40 minutes.
By this time, there were only about 10 minutes until race time and I still needed to stretch, so my group ran over to the starting corrals. The race was initially scheduled to begin at 6:30 p.m., but an emcee announced that it was being pushed back to 6:45 p.m. This made me nervous because the concert was set for 9:30 p.m., so this meant that I'd have less than three hours to finish if I wanted to catch the show.
In the weeks leading up to the marathon, some participants took to social media to voice their concerns about Nike changing its course time from four hours — as it stated on the registration form — to three hours. In one Threads post, a runner said: 'If the whole purpose of this event was to reclaim running by giving women a space to feel safe running at night, then why wouldn't you be inclusive to runners of all paces?'
In response to the feedback, Nike ultimately set the course time to three hours and 17 minutes, allowing for an average mile of 15 minutes per mile, according to a Nike spokesperson. The brand added a shorter course option, which was nine miles, so participants could still cross the finish line, receive a medal (a silver necklace with a giant Nike swoosh) and enjoy the concert.
Despite the confusion, people were amped. 'I'm at this phase in my life where I really want to prove to myself that I can do hard things,' said Ayanna Fox, 29, of Chino Hills, on why she wanted to participate.
Misty Garcia, 17, a Venice High School student, said: 'I felt like this race in particular was so interesting because it was going to be mostly women and it's about women empowerment, so I love it.'
As Charli xcx's '360' played over the speakers, Nike trainers along with Olympic gymnast Jordan Chiles and Olympic hurdler Anna Cockrell, hyped up the crowd as each corral took off. This was the point when my nerves started to kick in because I was eager to get started. About 7:05 p.m., a burst of smoke popped. I was finally off and running.
The first seven miles were the most exhilarating for me. I felt strong and confident about my pace. And for my legs, this stretch was smooth sailing. Hundreds of people were cheering from the sidelines and holding up signs with statements like 'You run better than our government,' 'Hot girls run half marathons' and 'Hurry up so we can drink.' Drivers along the freeway were honking for us. DJs played upbeat house and hip-hop music. USC's band performed. Between the six- and seven-mile marker, we ran through a tunnel that was filled with flashing red lights and bubble machines. The energy was electric.
Several brands including Flamingo, Honey Stinger (which gave out free energy gels and snacks) and Beats by Dre had activations along the course. There was even a recovery station with couches, restroom trailers and snacks.
Just before Mile 8, my headphones died and that's when the hills started to get to me. I felt like I was running up and down a sharp roller coaster. Without music, I was forced to talk myself through the final stretch. But it was in these trenches that I noticed several sweet moments of community care: a volunteer passing out Bengay cream, a group of friends holding up a woman as she limped, runners shouting out their home countries and waving their flags in the wake of the ICE raids that were happening in our city at this very moment. It was a beautiful reminder of how much better we are as people when we support one another.
Around Mile 10, I spotted Chris Bennett, Nike's running global head coach, giving out high-fives and encouraging people to push forward. (He even ran with the last bunch of runners and helped them across the finish line.)
As I neared the end, I felt bamboozled because there were at least two massive archways that looked like the finish line, but actually weren't. I still had a ways to go. I could've cried tears of joy when I finally reached the end. I clocked in at three hours and three minutes, which I was pleased with because my only goals were to finish, have fun and make it to the concert. The winner was Sofia Camacho, a drag artist and Nike run coach based in New York, who clocked in at one hour, 15 minutes and 25 seconds.
After grabbing my medal, I walked as fast as my sore limbs would allow back inside the stadium. The trek felt tortuous because we had to climb up multiple sets of stairs, then journey down a walkway that was roughly 10 levels that felt never-ending until we reached the bottom where the stage was. Some people gave up on watching the show simply because they didn't have the energy to make it down.
By the time I got there, I was disappointed to see that Doechii was already on her final two songs of her 30-minute set, but the energy was so high that I quickly forgot and just enjoyed the moment while I could. The show ended just before 10:40 p.m. while some folks were still running including one of my friends who missed the show and wasn't able to get a pair of Barbie pink Nike slides and socks they were passing out.
After the show, we were instructed to exit the stadium — thankfully there was an escalator — but I still had to muster up the energy to go back to the entrance at the other side of the stadium so I could retrieve my belongings from the bag check area. My legs were finished by the time I got to my car.
Aside from some logistical issues and long wait times, I enjoyed participating in the Nike After Dark Tour. The course was challenging but doable, and running alongside thousands of women and allies of various ages and backgrounds at night felt empowering. Runners received a ton of freebies, particularly at the bib pickup at the Grove, which included a dri-fit T-shirt and makeup from Milk.
As someone who typically avoids cardio in my workout sessions, this race has inspired me to continue hitting the pavement and exploring this beautiful city on foot. And who knows, I just might sign up for another race.