Hello, my name is Alex Vigil, and I’m a 37-year-old transplant from North Dakota! I wanted to take a moment to share my journey and why running the Twin Cities Marathon holds such profound significance for me.
Just last year, I signed up for my first marathon, but as we all know, the world had other plans, and the event was canceled. Initially, I was heartbroken. But instead of dwelling on the disappointment, I leaned into gratitude. I shifted my mindset, focused on my training, and ultimately crossed the finish line of my first marathon in Mankato.
That moment was a triumph for me, both mentally and physically. I’m grateful for that experience, the refund on my registration fees, and the chance to register for this year’s marathon at a discounted rate. The moment I got that email, I knew I had to go all in again.
But to truly understand why this race means so much to me, I have to take you back to October 2019.
The moment I got that email, I knew I had to go all in again.
I was a drug addict and alcoholic in the depths of my addiction. In October of that year, I made the life-changing decision to come to Minnesota for treatment. I entered Pride Institute in Eden Prairie and spent 47 days there. After my stay, I transitioned into outpatient care with NUWAY for eight months. By March 2020, just as I was approaching five months of sobriety, the world shut down. COVID hit, and like many others, I found myself stuck at home, out of shape, and uncertain about the future.
But I knew one thing: I couldn’t let this define me. I refused to sit around, gaining weight and losing myself to inactivity. So I started small—walking and running in intervals, three minutes at a time. I followed this program, inching my way up to 30 minutes. I started on the Greenway in South Minneapolis, and by the end, I made it all the way to Lake Nokomis. During those early days, I doubted whether I’d ever be able to run long distances. I had never sustained sobriety for more than six months in my life, and the idea of a future without substances felt like a far-off dream.
I had never sustained sobriety for more than six months in my life, and the idea of a future without substances felt like a far-off dream.
But as I explored the city—running around the lakes, biking, visiting Minnehaha Falls, Lake of the Isles, and Lake Harriet—I started to dream bigger. I began to see what life could look like if I kept going. Slowly but surely, I found joy in the movement and in the journey of making Minneapolis my home.
In the late summer of 2020, I faced a knee injury that sidelined me for a while, but I didn’t stop moving. I shifted to strength training, and by 2021, I was in the best physical shape of my life. That summer, I hit the trails again. With time, I built up my endurance, running pain-free for the first time.
By fall of 2020, I enrolled in Minneapolis College to pursue my addiction counseling degree, diving deeper into my recovery journey—this time both mentally and physically. I ran 5Ks, 10Ks, and as 2023 rolled around, two of my friends challenged me to train for the Twin Cities Marathon. I accepted, and once again, I found myself running through the same trails and landmarks that had witnessed my growth over the past few years.
Today, I’m a full-time alcohol and drug counselor at the very organization where I once sought help. I’m also a full-time student at Metro State University, working toward my social work degree. In addition, I’m currently interning with Hennepin County in child welfare, striving to give back to those who, like me, are searching for a way out of the darkness. Every day, I try to be a mentor and a source of support to people battling addiction, helping them realize that a better life is possible—physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.
The Twin Cities Marathon is more than just a race for me.
The Twin Cities Marathon is more than just a race for me. It’s a celebration of resilience, of second chances, and of the strength we find in ourselves when we push beyond our perceived limits. I came to Minnesota broken, out of shape, and jobless. Now, at 37, I’m running my second marathon, stronger in every sense of the word—physically, emotionally, spiritually, and professionally.
I’m so incredibly grateful to be a part of this race, and I can’t wait to cross that finish line, knowing how far I’ve come.
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