Big Sur International Marathon 2027: The Complete Race Guide

Big Sur Is Different From Every Other Marathon on Earth

There are beautiful marathons and there are hard marathons. Big Sur manages to be both at the same time, in a way no other 26.2-mile race on the planet quite replicates. The 2027 edition is the 40th — four decades of runners catching their first glimpse of the Pacific from the summit of Hurricane Point, hearing a tuxedoed pianist play a concert grand on Bixby Bridge at the halfway mark and crossing into Carmel with legs that feel like they’ve been filled with wet concrete somewhere around mile 22.

The course runs north on California Highway 1 from Big Sur Station to Rio Road in Carmel, covering 26.2 miles of what is arguably the most dramatic coastal road in North America. The elevation profile tells part of the story: +2,182 feet of climbing against a net-downhill route. What the numbers don’t capture is the wind. Pacific headwinds on Hurricane Point can hit 20 mph or more, and they stack on top of a 500-foot climb that starts just before mile 10 and runs for 2.2 miles. This is why experienced runners consistently report finishing Big Sur 10 to 20 minutes slower than comparable flat-road marathons.

This is not a race you run for a personal best. It is a race you run to feel something. The first 9 miles through redwood forest and open coastal pasture will make you feel invincible. Hurricane Point will correct that impression. The descent to Bixby Bridge and the pianist will lift you back up. The rolling coastal miles from 14 to 21 will quietly drain what’s left. And the final stretch into Carmel — warmer, brighter and mercifully downhill — will remind you why you entered the lottery in the first place.

The marathon field is capped at around 4,500 entrants, keeping the race manageable on a two-lane highway but making entry genuinely competitive. The random drawing for 2027 has already closed. If you’re reading this looking for a way in, the most realistic remaining path is the Boston 2 Big Sur Challenge, opening October 14, 2026. Check the registration section below before anything else.

How to Enter the 2027 Big Sur International Marathon

The 2027 random drawing lottery closed September 2, 2026. Winners were notified September 8. If you missed the drawing, these are the remaining entry paths:

Non-marathon distances — Marathon Relay, 21-Miler, 11-Miler, 12K and 5K — opened for general registration September 10, 2026. Check current availability here.

Race at a Glance

What Makes Big Sur Marathon Worth Running?

26.2 Miles on America’s Most Spectacular Road

California Highway 1 through the Big Sur coast is the only road in the United States designated a National Scenic Highway before construction was even complete. For one Sunday morning in late April, it closes to all traffic and fills with runners. The scenery is everything the name implies: old-growth redwood and fir forest at the start, coastal pastures with sea stacks visible in the surf below, Pacific swells breaking against cliffs several hundred feet down and the Santa Lucia mountains rising steeply to the east. If you’ve ever looked at a photo of Big Sur and thought “I want to run that,” this is the race. Runner’s World named it one of the top three marathons in the United States. The Ultimate Guide to Marathons called it the best marathon in the world. Those aren’t unreasonable positions.

Hurricane Point and the Piano Player at Bixby Bridge

Two things about Big Sur that no other race has. First: the climb to Hurricane Point, a 2.2-mile ascent of roughly 500 feet between miles 10 and 12, run directly into a consistent Pacific headwind. It is not the steepest single gradient in marathon running, but it combines climbing, sustained length, wind resistance and race position (you’ve run 10 miles and have 16 to go) in a way that is genuinely formidable. Taiko drummers positioned at the base of the climb at mile 10 have been sending runners up that hill for decades.

Second: the piano player. At Bixby Bridge — one of the most photographed landmarks in California and the approximate halfway point of the marathon — a tuxedoed concert pianist plays a Yamaha grand as you cross. This has been a Big Sur tradition since the early years of the race. In a marathon run mostly in solitude on a closed highway with almost no spectator access, the piano music is genuinely moving. Runners report crying at the bridge, stopping briefly to take it in or simply running easier for the two or three minutes it takes to cross and hear it. Plan for it, appreciate it and get back to running.

The 40th Anniversary Edition

The 2027 race is the 40th edition of a marathon that nearly didn’t happen. Founder Bill Burleigh spent a full year getting a Highway 1 closure permit approved — needing a call from Governor Deukmejian’s office to Caltrans before it came through — before 1,800 runners lined up in 1986. Four decades later, the race draws roughly 9,000 participants across all distances from 41 countries. Whether or not the foundation announces specific 40th-anniversary programming, there is something meaningful about showing up for a race that has kept its format, its course and its character largely intact through every disruption the Big Sur coast has thrown at it.

Is Big Sur a Good Boston Qualifier?

Technically yes — Big Sur is a certified Boston qualifier on a USATF, AIMS and World Athletics certified course. Practically, it is probably the most demanding Boston qualifier on the US calendar in terms of terrain and conditions. The race organisation notes plainly that the course runs 10 to 20 minutes slower for most participants than a flat-road marathon. There are no crowd noise boosts in the second half, no clocks at mile splits and the wind on Hurricane Point can turn a steady pace into a grind. If chasing a BQ time is the primary goal, there are better venues for it. If you already have your BQ and want a race that gives you something entirely different, Big Sur delivers.

The Boston 2 Big Sur Double Challenge

The Boston 2 Big Sur (B2B) Challenge invites runners to complete both the Boston Marathon and Big Sur within the same spring season — typically six days apart. In 2026, over 200 B2B athletes completed both races. This is not a staged multi-day race; it is two complete 26.2-mile marathons in less than a week, which is exactly as hard as it sounds and exactly the kind of thing that a certain type of runner finds irresistible. Awards go three deep to male and female finishers under 40 and to masters runners based on combined finishing times at both events. B2B registration for 2027 opens October 14, 2026.

A Community Non-Profit With Real Local Impact

The Big Sur Marathon Foundation has contributed over $6.7 million in grants and donations to Monterey Peninsula community groups since 1986. The race runs as a certified zero-waste event, operates with an Events Committee of 70+ volunteers and has built a cross-country running trail at Palo Corona Regional Park that now hosts school meets for thousands of local students. Entry fees fund real community work. In an era of private-equity-owned mega-races, that is worth something. The finisher medal, handcrafted by the same designer (Kathleen Kelly) since the inaugural race, is one of the most distinctive in the sport.

The Course — Mile by Mile

Miles 1–5: The Redwood Descent — Enjoy It, But Don’t Trust It

The marathon begins at Big Sur Station at 356 feet and drops gently through old-growth redwood and fir forest for the first five miles. The air at the start is typically 40–50°F (4–10°C) and the dense tree canopy eliminates wind entirely. It feels like a perfect training run in the best possible conditions. Miles 1, 2 and 3 will tempt you into running 30–45 seconds per mile faster than your race plan says. This is the most common strategic mistake at Big Sur. The gentle grade and cold morning air make everything feel effortless. Bank that perceived effort and do not spend it — you will need every joule of it from mile 10 onward. The 21-Miler field joins the course at mile 5, where the trees begin to thin and the Pacific opens up for the first time.

Miles 5–10: Coastal Pastures, Point Sur and the Calm Before

From mile 5 to roughly mile 9, the course runs along the coastal bluffs through open agricultural land. Point Sur State Historic Park and its lighthouse — a dramatic volcanic rock jutting into the ocean — appear on the right, one of the most photographed running backdrops in the country. The terrain is rolling but manageable: no sustained climbs, just the gentle coastal undulations of 25–50 feet that will feel trivial now and expensive later. The wind picks up on the exposed sections here, giving you an early and deceptive preview of what’s coming. Top up your hydration at the mile 7.8 aid station. Around mile 9 the road dips into an inlet — the last genuine moment of respite before Hurricane Point. The Taiko drummers positioned at approximately mile 10 are the official send-off.

Miles 10–12: Hurricane Point — The Race Within the Race

Nothing about the first 9 miles prepares you fully for Hurricane Point, even if you’ve read every race report ever written about it. The climb begins just before mile 10 at around 40 feet of elevation and runs 2.2 miles to the summit at roughly 537 feet — a gain of close to 500 feet. Between miles 10 and 11 alone, the road climbs approximately 350 feet. That’s steep enough that recreational runners visibly slow and many begin walking pitches. Mile 12 adds another 118 feet before the crest.

What makes this harder than the elevation chart shows is the wind. The exposed headland channels Pacific northwesterlies directly into your face at 15–25 mph on many race days. You are climbing and fighting air resistance simultaneously, for 2.2 miles. Save energy by shortening your stride on the steepest sections rather than fighting to hold pace. Your time up Hurricane Point is largely irrelevant — what you have left in your legs after it is everything.

The views from the Hurricane Point summit are among the finest vantage points in any marathon in the world. The Pacific stretches to the horizon in both directions, the cliff face drops hundreds of feet to the ocean below and on a clear morning the light at altitude is extraordinary. Most runners take in a few seconds of that view before the descent begins. That moment alone is worth something.

Miles 12–14: Bixby Bridge and the Piano Player

The descent from Hurricane Point to Bixby Bridge covers roughly 2 miles and recovers most of the elevation just gained. Running downhill on post-Hurricane legs requires attention — quads that are already loaded from the climb will take punishment on the descent, and battering them here by hammering the downhill will cost you from mile 18 onward. Shorten your stride, lean slightly forward and resist the urge to make up time.

Bixby Bridge appears at approximately mile 13. Built in 1932 and one of the most photographed landmarks on the California coast, it carries the race’s most beloved tradition: a tuxedoed concert pianist playing a Yamaha grand piano as runners cross. You’ll hear it from roughly a mile before you reach it. The aid station at mile 12.2, just before the bridge, carries gels — take one. The descent has cost fuel even when it doesn’t feel like it, and the coastal miles ahead require something in the tank.

Miles 14–21: The Coastal Grind That Finishes What Hurricane Point Started

After Bixby Bridge, the course continues north along the coast through terrain that on paper looks far more forgiving than what came before. No landmark climbs. Rolling 50–100 foot undulations every few miles. The Pacific almost always visible. This is the section most Big Sur runners describe as “not that bad — until it really was.”

What’s happening physiologically between miles 14 and 21 is slow erosion. Hurricane Point costs more than most runners budget for. The cumulative rolling terrain keeps the legs working. Crosswinds and occasional headwinds add drag. By miles 18–19, the legs start behaving in a way that flat-road marathons at this distance don’t quite produce. The gel at mile 19.0 is the last on the course — don’t miss it.

Rocky Point, around mile 19, is a rise of roughly 80–100 feet. Most pre-race course descriptions gloss over it because it looks minor. At mile 19 of a hilly marathon, an 80-foot climb feels significantly harder than any chart shows it. This is where the majority of recreational runners begin a walk-run phase, whether planned or involuntary.

Miles 21–26.2: The Late Climb, the Strawberries and the Carmel Finish

Miles 21 and 22 carry another rise of roughly 80–100 feet — often described as “invisible” on course summaries but definitively present in the legs at this stage. After Hurricane Point, Rocky Point and 20 miles of rolling coastal asphalt, this section regularly produces the biggest time losses in the recreational field. The course cut-off at mile 21.2 (11:50 AM) removes runners who’ve fallen too far behind pace. Those bused to the finish from this point are not marked as DNF — they receive a participation record.

From mile 22 the terrain softens and the course makes its way into Carmel. The Strawberry Station at mile 23.2 is a genuine mid-race morale event — volunteers hand out fresh strawberries in a tradition that has no rational explanation except that it works. The final miles run through residential Carmel streets, noticeably warmer than the Big Sur start due to the microclimate shift from forest to coastal town. The finish at Rio Road brings you into Marathon Village, where the awards ceremony begins at 11:30 AM on the main stage.

Race Weekend Schedule 2027

Saturday weekend events, 12K and 5K start times will be confirmed closer to race day. Check the official weekend events page for updates. Bus pickup times and locations: bigsurmarathon.org/bus-pick-up-locations

Race Day Weather: What to Expect at Big Sur in Late April

Wind is the defining weather variable at Big Sur and the one that most affects finishing times. On a calm day the course is hard but manageable. In a strong northwesterly it becomes something else — the headwind on Hurricane Point compounds the climbing effort and the exposed coastal miles from 14 to 21 offer little shelter from crosswinds. When veterans say Big Sur runs 10 to 20 minutes slower than comparable flat road marathons, a significant portion of that delta is wind rather than elevation alone. Check the forecast in the week before race day. A lightweight windbreaker you can tie around your waist at mile 6 is worth every gram you carry.

Prize Money and Elite Info

Past Results — Defending Champions

* 2024 course was altered due to a Highway 1 slip-out near Rocky Creek Bridge. The traditional point-to-point route resumed in 2025 and ran again in 2026.

Simon Ricci, from San Francisco, is the three-time defending champion heading into the 40th edition. His 2026 time of 2:23:46 was his fastest Big Sur win to date. Both standing course records — Hawthorne’s men’s mark from 1987 and Vasilyeva’s women’s mark from 1996 — have now stood for nearly four decades. That durability is its own statement about the difficulty of running this course at maximum effort.

Spectator Guide: Where to Watch the Big Sur Marathon

Where to Stay for Big Sur Marathon Weekend

Book accommodation as early as possible. The Monterey Peninsula fills rapidly for marathon weekend, and official hotel room blocks are the most logistically straightforward option because bus pickup is integrated. Staying in Carmel is convenient post-race but requires navigating the 3:30 AM bus from Carmel Plaza, which requires an early alarm regardless of how close your hotel is to the start. If you are travelling as a group or want the guaranteed-entry package, the Portola Hotel via Marathon Tours is the closest thing to an all-in-one solution the race offers.

International Runners — Visa and Travel Guide

A Short History of the Big Sur International Marathon

The Big Sur International Marathon exists because of a road sign. Bill Burleigh, a runner and event organiser from the Monterey Peninsula, saw a sign on Highway 1 near Rio Road in Carmel in the mid-1980s and decided the road should host a marathon. Getting that idea onto the road took longer than it usually does to build one. Securing a permit to temporarily close California Highway 1 required a full year of rejections from state agencies and citizens groups before Burleigh found his way to a phone call from Governor George Deukmejian’s office to Caltrans. The permit came through. On the last Sunday of April 1986, 1,800 runners lined up at Big Sur Station — at the time, one of the most logistically ambitious first marathons ever attempted in the United States. A 700-pound Hereford cow in labour briefly occupied the course. Sponsors were awed. Runners raved.

The race grew steadily through the late 1980s and 1990s as the demand for non-marathon distances on the scenic course became clear. The Walk (now the 11-Miler) launched in 1989, the 5K in 1992, the 21-Miler and Marathon Relay in 1995. In 1987, Brad Hawthorne set a men’s course record of 2:16:39 that remains unbroken nearly four decades later. In 1996, Svetlana Vasilyeva set the women’s record at 2:41:34, also still standing. Mother Nature has tested the race repeatedly: floods in 1995 destroyed the Carmel River Bridge near the finish, forcing a course change; highway slip-outs caused reroutes in 1998, 2011 and 2024. Each time, the race adapted rather than cancelled. The Boston 2 Big Sur Challenge launched in 2010. The Monterey Bay Half Marathon followed in 2003. The organisation formalised as a 501(c)(3) nonprofit, the Big Sur Marathon Foundation, in 2017.

The 40th edition in 2027 arrives after the most disrupted stretch in the race’s history: COVID-19 cancelled the 2020 race entirely, and a 2024 Highway 1 slip-out near Rocky Creek Bridge forced the first course alteration since 2011. The traditional point-to-point route returned in 2025 and has run since. Bill Burleigh, who shaped the race’s character through its first decade and beyond, passed away in 2024 — a moment of silence was held at that year’s race in his honour. That roughly 9,000 runners from 41 countries still show up each April, that the event has never fully needed to be sold to a private race conglomerate and that the handcrafted finisher medals still come from the same designer they always have — these things say something about what Bill Burleigh built on the ragged edge of the western world.