50 states, 50 marathons: Beaufort man completes running feat few can claim
A map of the United States hangs on a wall in Jay Gibson’s home on Lady’s Island. A city in each state is marked with a pushpin.
Erie, PA. Birmingham, AL. Tupelo, MS. Manitou Springs, CO. Tulsa, OK. Myrtle Beach, SC. Coeur d’Alene, ID. White Sands, NM. The list goes on.
The pushpins don’t represent places Gibson has traveled or those he’d like to. They mark the ocean-side highways, snow-covered paths, desert routes and muddy trails where he has crossed a marathon finish line.
The 45-year-old is one of just a few thousand Americans who can say they have completed the 26.2-mile race in all 50 states. For context, less than 1% of Americans have completed a marathon. And an even smaller percentage of that already small population have run one in every state.
On April 12, Gibson completed the 20-year journey after finishing the Horse Capitol Marathon in Lexington, KY. He ran the whole race wearing bib number 50.
He’s come a long way since 2005, when he ran his first marathon in Memphis, TN — in the literal sense. In races alone, he’s logged more than 1,300 miles. With training, those miles jump into the thousands.
But every race, every mile and every step he’s taken since that first race has come with a lifetime of memories and lessons learned.
Every mile holds a memory
Gibson has kept a digital log of every race since his first in 2005. His finish times, down to the second, fill up rows of the spreadsheet. He can easily recall in conversation which races he ran at a faster or slower pace, down to the exact minute. He can recall the exact temperatures, humidity percentages, inches of snow or wind speeds.
But beyond the numbers, every single race holds a distinct memory for Gibson.
Some races were memorable for where the paths led him.
He recalls a Civil War battlefield in Chickamauga, GA, the Las Vegas Strip in the the early hours of the morning, botanical gardens in Hilo, HI, snow covered mountains in Whitefish, MT, miles of old railroad tracks in Shenandoah, IA, the head of the Mississippi River in Bemidji, MN, the devastation in New Orleans, LA two years after Hurricane Katrina.
Others were memorable for the lessons learned.
Running up Grandfather Mountain in Boone, NC taught him that sometimes, having less expectations can bring about unanticipated results. His race in Erie, PA, showed him that what matters most is holding onto the simple joy of doing. Running in Bloomington, IN taught him that sometimes, the best goal is just to not fall in the mud.
He remembers the people he ran with.
In Libertyville, IL, he remembers running next to a retired Army veteran who talked him through the last few miles after Gibson hit a wall. They’ve stayed in contact for years.
He also remembers the people he ran for.
The first marathon he ever ran was for his father who grew up running but never ran the daunting race, he said. Years later, his dad eventually joined him in running one. On another occasion, he ran a marathon in honor of a friend who lost a battle with cancer.
He recalls each and every race when his parents came to support him. He highlights taking his now 9-year-old son to experience different parts of the country, from seeing a Reindeer Farm in Anchorage, AK to the Four Corners after running in Salt Lake City, UT.
He talks about the role his wife, Cindy, has played in completing his decades-long goal.
She was there well before they were even married at his very first race, a half marathon, in 2004. Before running Pike’s Peak in Colorado, Gibson proposed to Cindy. It was 2010. He remembers joking with her that she had about seven hours to think about whether she’d like to say yes by the time he made it to the finish line.
Embracing the suck
Gibson recalls a time when an hour-long run felt like a significant challenge. Now, 100 miles better reaches the challenge threshold. Even still, each marathon comes with its own set of challenges: air so cold that it froze a Snickers bar solid in his pocket, 5,000 feet of elevation gain, 20 mile-per-hour headwinds, 93% humidity.
Along the journey, Gibson has also made the already difficult task even more difficult. Some of his marathons were part of even longer races, like a 40-miler he ran in Kansas, or one of his four Iron Man races, which consists of a 2.4-mile swim, a 112-mile bike ride, and a full marathon to top it off.
He knocked out four New England states in four days. He ran a double-double in Allen, TX — a 5K and a marathon in one day, two days in a row. He’s completed a half marathon and full marathon back to back in Orlando, FL. He has run races as a pacer, requiring he runs the race at an exact speed, not a minute slower.
Despite his successful running career, Gibson wasn’t born into running. Early on in his life it actually became apparent that running might just not be in the cards for him. He was pigeon-toed, meaning that his feet naturally turned inward while walking. It meant he had to wear braces on his legs to try and correct his gait.
The first race he ever ran was when he was a senior in college. From that 5K onward, he decided he would never say no to the next running challenge. If someone asked him to do a race or run a certain distance, he would agree. And so began the grit and commitment that kept him going through with the unique challenges of all 50 marathons.
When asked about how he has gotten through it all, he said “I embrace the suck. I know what its going to be like.” Embracing the suck is a military mantra, adopted specifically by the Army and Marine Corps. It’s all about pushing through the hard stuff with grit and resilience.
Gibson has been working in sports medicine and injury prevention at the Marine Corps Recruit Depot Parris Island since 2008. His position working for a branch of the military is a big part of why he’s kept going.
“What example is it for my recruits, if I tell them I quit just because I’m sore?” he said, referencing the mindset he had to keep when running the final of four back-to-back marathons.
But one key question has kept Gibson going for the many years since he started running: What is my limit?
It’s an itch he hasn’t quite scratched. With aspirations of running longer distances and keeping his 20-year marathon streak alive, Gibson does not picture himself slowing down anytime soon.
“I just won’t stop,” he said (beyond the promise he made to his wife to go on a few vacations without a race).
Whether he won first in his age group or simply just finished the race, putting one foot in front of the other for countless miles has taught Gibson to just keep going.
“Just keep moving forward,” he said. “There’s going to be tough times. There’s going to be easy times. You just keep on going. Eventually you’ll get there.”
This story was originally published June 23, 2025 at 12:04 PM.
