A marathon race unites a community in Albania

A struggle to launch projects

I sat alone in an empty classroom, staring at rows of vacant desks. I had spent weeks preparing for this Model EU meeting, printing flyers, talking to teachers, encouraging students to join. A few students had come to the first sessions, but over time, interest faded. And now, no one showed up.

This wasn’t the first time. Months earlier, I had launched an English course for local tourism professionals. That, too, had started with promise, but attendance gradually dwindled until the sessions stopped altogether. I remember thinking, maybe I’m just not good at this. I’d always been someone who succeeded at things. But here, I felt like I was failing. Fresh out of college with a degree in finance and business, I had joined Peace Corps/Albania with big plans. I was interested in politics and public service and saw Peace Corps service as a natural way to gain grassroots experience before graduate school. I was smart, driven, and used to being the one with the answers.

But at my site, a mountainous town in northern Albania, my confidence began to unravel. I saw other Volunteers launching successful projects. They were finding ways to engage their students and communities. But I couldn’t seem to get anything off the ground.

Marathon inspires a community

It wasn’t until nearly a year into my service that things began to shift. A marathon in Tirana, the capital, was getting a lot of national and international media attention. In my town, local leaders took notice. This part of the country is beautiful but often overlooked. Tourism is a big part of Albania’s economy, but the north is being left behind. When people here saw the success of the Tirana marathon, they started asking, why not here?

This time, the idea didn’t come from me. It came from the community. And that made all the difference.

The Peace Corps talks a lot about community-led development. But I didn’t really understand what that meant until that moment. I had been trying to bring solutions to problems I thought existed. But the marathon was different; it was their idea. They identified a project solution, not me.

The community comes together

The main organizing team was led by my partner youth organization and a local non-governmental organization. The municipality also played a key role, offering support with human resources, road closures, and safety coordination. The local police and hospital mobilized staff and resources to ensure the safety of runners along the route.

The project took off quickly. I was helping to coordinate a major public event in a second language, navigating everything from safety protocols to labor laws. The bigger it got, the scarier it got. I was being asked questions I didn’t have answers to from crowd control and medical support to hiring procedures. I had to learn fast, and I had to bring in people who knew more than I did.

Over the next six months, the town’s half marathon became a true community effort. Nearly 100 local volunteers signed on to help. Schools organized a youth run. Local businesses offered sponsorships. By race day, 200 runners from six countries were registered to compete.

Local marathon brings joy and unity

The marathon, which took place in May 2025, was a huge success, drawing national and international media attention to the region as a tourist destination. More than 400,000 social media views were generated, and it was promoted on national outlets.

But it was what happened at the finish line that I’ll never forget. As Luiza Gega, Albania’s most celebrated long-distance runner, crossed the finish line to win the women’s 21 km race, the crowd erupted. Spectators poured into the road. And under the banner bearing the name of the marathon, they began to dance Vallja e Kukësit, a traditional circle dance from the region. It was an incredible moment of joy and unity. I stood there watching, thinking, this is what success looks like. Not something I built, but something I helped make possible.

Now, as I prepare for what’s next—likely graduate school, maybe a career in public service—I carry with me a new definition of leadership.

I came to Albania thinking I needed to prove myself. But what I really needed was to learn how to listen, how to adapt, and how to be part of something bigger than myself.