Janessa Garcia is an English Teaching 
Assistant at the Catholic Gymnázium in Kutná Hora. With a degree in Political Science, a passion for history, and dreams of shaping education policy, her 10-month journey has blossomed into a dynamic mix of teaching, mentoring, cultural exchange—and unexpected personal transformation. Whether she's leading spirited debate and reading clubs, offering English conversation classes to fellow teachers (including the school’s director!), or even learning piano from her colleague and students, Janessa has made the most of every moment. But perhaps her most surprising and rewarding endeavor? Lacing up her running shoes. What began as a reluctant experiment has grown into a full-blown marathon goal—and along the way, Janessa has discovered that long-distance running has more in common with teaching and personal growth than she ever imagined.
Maybe, the most pitiful thing you can do in life is not challenge yourself and soar past the limits you have created in your mind. And just maybe, all it takes is ten seconds of courage to bet on yourself and allow yourself the opportunity to do something worthwhile.
I would argue that the average person feels they have forever. People often wait for the “perfect moment,” the period where they “have a good enough job,” or for when they have “that someone,” to truly experience life to the fullest.
This past November, I signed up for the 2025 Prague Marathon. Do I love running? Ne. Am I a runner? Ne ne ne. Had I even signed up for a half-marathon first? That would have been a good idea, but also, ne. So what made me want to pay money to put myself through 42 kilometers of pain through the streets of Prague? I had something to prove to myself.
Photo: Janessa and Ashlynn seeing their friends and supporters at mile 1 of the Prague Marathon; captured by ETA Katherine O’Neal, May 2025.
I quickly realized my marathon was not beginning on May 4th, 2025. The marathon was not 26.2 miles, it was going to end with 26.2 miles. The day I took a leap of courage and bet on myself to do this was the day my marathon began.
At the start of my journey, I thought motivation would carry me to the finish line. Though, as I came to conceptualize, motivation fluctuates. It wavers depending on your mood or factors outside of your control. At the beginning of my Fulbright experience, when everything was new and I was enduring most experiences alone and far away from home, motivation was difficult to gather. Especially as a Southern California girl who is not used to living through true winter seasons, motivation was hard to come by. It was not just running that became arduous, but all tasks. It felt so easy to use the snowy weather, limited sunlight, and long teaching days as excuses, especially as excuses to not go for a run. There were many days when I laced my shoes, with my multiple layers of clothing, gloves, and sometimes a pocket-sized heater, questioning my capability. During this season, I realized discipline mattered more, not motivation, because while motivation varies, discipline never does. I knew the days when I would drag myself out of my flat into 30-degree weather to run were going to be the days that counted most.
Photo: Janessa’s friends and supporters holding signs during the Prague Marathon; captured by ETA Katherine O’Neal, May 2025.
Photo: Janessa, Joe, and Ashlynn post-marathon with their fellow ETAs, friends, and supporters, May 2025.
Photo: Janessa during the first half of the Prague Marathon, May 2025.
Photo: Three Fulbright grantees with their medals after the Prague Marathon, May 2025.
As a girl who grew up playing sports her whole life, I inherently came to associate running with absolute torture. You did it to condition yourself to play the sport you liked. It was what you had to do if you missed the goal, did not hit the ball correctly, or talked too much at practice.
As a recent university graduate, I arrived in Kutná Hora, Czech Republic, with a newfound sense of freedom to take up hobbies as I was no longer a student swamped with hours of homework. I had loosely explored running a marathon in my head, but every time that thought settled in my mind, I quickly pushed it out, thinking a body like mine and a person like myself could never. Seeing the beautiful trails and terrain of the Czech Republic influenced me to mull it over. Eventually, I thought, why not now? Why not me? I realized the only person preventing me from doing so was myself. The only person saying “I can’t,” was me. So, I signed up knowing the most I could run without stopping was 0.7 of a mile. Ne, it’s not a typo.
As a recent university graduate, I arrived in Kutná Hora, Czech Republic, with a newfound sense of freedom to take up hobbies as I was no longer a student swamped with hours of homework. I had loosely explored running a marathon in my head, but every time that thought settled in my mind, I quickly pushed it out, thinking a body like mine and a person like myself could never. Seeing the beautiful trails and terrain of the Czech Republic influenced me to mull it over. Eventually, I thought, why not now? Why not me? I realized the only person preventing me from doing so was myself. The only person saying “I can’t,” was me. So, I signed up knowing the most I could run without stopping was 0.7 of a mile. Ne, it’s not a typo.
Photo: Janessa with Amy and Katherine, fellow ETAs, during the homestretch of the Prague Marathon, May 2025.
I quickly realized my marathon was not beginning on May 4th, 2025. The marathon was not 26.2 miles, it was going to end with 26.2 miles. The day I took a leap of courage and bet on myself to do this was the day my marathon began.
At the start of my journey, I thought motivation would carry me to the finish line. Though, as I came to conceptualize, motivation fluctuates. It wavers depending on your mood or factors outside of your control. At the beginning of my Fulbright experience, when everything was new and I was enduring most experiences alone and far away from home, motivation was difficult to gather. Especially as a Southern California girl who is not used to living through true winter seasons, motivation was hard to come by. It was not just running that became arduous, but all tasks. It felt so easy to use the snowy weather, limited sunlight, and long teaching days as excuses, especially as excuses to not go for a run. There were many days when I laced my shoes, with my multiple layers of clothing, gloves, and sometimes a pocket-sized heater, questioning my capability. During this season, I realized discipline mattered more, not motivation, because while motivation varies, discipline never does. I knew the days when I would drag myself out of my flat into 30-degree weather to run were going to be the days that counted most.
In life and in running, what you put in is what you get out. It is you versus you in this marathon journey, and I mean that not just for running, but in the marathon of life. Even if you do not always feel 100%, running taught me to always give 100%. If you show up for yourself on the rough days-giving it everything you have-there is no telling just how much more powerful and resilient you will be on those good days. And so, each afternoon from November to May, I showed up for myself, working to become the person I never thought I could become.
Though my motivation to run sometimes swayed, my yearning to accomplish what only 1% of the world has experienced, remained. Moreover, my pursuit to push my limits stayed firm. This is because my why stretched deeper. With every run, I knew I was continually proving I could, not only because discipline dissolves doubt, but because my grit stems from the strong people in my corner: my family.
My grandfather unexpectedly passed away two years ago on May 5th from health-related issues. When I thought about my why, I thought about him. I considered how privileged I was to have the physical ability to run. I found myself lucky to be able to choose this challenge and to be able to work to surpass it. I knew that the pain I would endure was temporary and that the accomplishment of it would last a lifetime. In the way that discipline never wavers, so does the love of both my biological family and the newfound Fulbright family. I knew with the love and strength of them all, I could accomplish what I set out to do.
My grandfather unexpectedly passed away two years ago on May 5th from health-related issues. When I thought about my why, I thought about him. I considered how privileged I was to have the physical ability to run. I found myself lucky to be able to choose this challenge and to be able to work to surpass it. I knew that the pain I would endure was temporary and that the accomplishment of it would last a lifetime. In the way that discipline never wavers, so does the love of both my biological family and the newfound Fulbright family. I knew with the love and strength of them all, I could accomplish what I set out to do.
I walked up to the marathon start line with fear, anxiety, and glitter, of course, glitter. Even more so, with the courage to finish the marathon that I began six months prior. I felt the “runner's high” as I ran through Charles Bridge, let out big smiles every time I heard the loud cheers of my friends, and felt the love of the Czech community as I braved through this experience. Though the farther I progressed, the more my body ached, and the more my mind begged me to stop. This is where the truest part of my marathon began. I had to meet my perceived limits head-on and defy them, leaving me to run with what I had left: my heart, my why. With the support of my Fulbright family, the love I felt from my family from across the world, and the strength I know my grandfather provided for me, I proved myself right.
If you have ever wondered what running a marathon is like, I am here to tell you that you are living it: that is, the marathon of life. Only the one I ran was on one day with a seven-hour time limit. I felt every emotion of the human experience. I breezed through the highs that made me feel invincible, and as much as I never wanted the feeling to end, it did. I reached a period of steadiness that allowed me to breathe a little longer, listen to the lyrics of my songs a little more, and see the world through a different lens. Suddenly, I hit a low that made me plunge so low. It is the type of low that makes your thoughts spiral into thinking the end may never come, and that you can no longer persist through the pain and overcome your doubts. As in life, you cling to hope and continue forward, because louder than your pain and aches are your people rooting for you to finish what you started. And stronger than your doubts is your heart pumping, your passion, and your why, pushing you past the finish line.
At the end of it all, we all want to cross the marathon line and have a gold medal placed around our neck. Whatever that marathon or challenge may be looks different for each of us. What few are willing to do is start the journey hand-in-hand with both fear and courage, remaining resilient and disciplined, betting on themselves and their ludicrous ideas to soar past their limitations.
At the end of it all, we all want to cross the marathon line and have a gold medal placed around our neck. Whatever that marathon or challenge may be looks different for each of us. What few are willing to do is start the journey hand-in-hand with both fear and courage, remaining resilient and disciplined, betting on themselves and their ludicrous ideas to soar past their limitations.
