From Prison Run-a-thons to the NYC Marathon: Exoneree Termaine Hicks Prepares for the Running World’s Biggest Stage

As Termaine Hicks ran along the Schuylkill River Trail on Kelly Drive right outside of Philadelphia, he glanced up just in time to see a sheriff’s van pass by. In a full-circle moment, he waved as he remembered riding in that same van to court for his trial, which ended in his wrongful conviction. 

“Never in a million years did I think I would be running up and down Kelly Drive,” Mr. Hicks said. “It was surreal. It was truly a moment.”

Now, he’s training for the New York City Marathon, an event that is much more than just a 26.2-mile race to him. It’s a celebration of his resilience, both on the track and in life.

The Innocence Project took on Mr. Hicks’ case in 2011, but he wasn’t exonerated until Dec.16 2020, having spent nearly two decades behind bars for a crime he didn’t commit after a police cover-up. Shot three times by police, with bullet fragments still lodged in his spine, he not only endured the trauma of a wrongful arrest and conviction, he also faced the challenge of learning how to walk again. His hard-fought path to freedom wasn’t just about getting out of prison — it was about reclaiming his body, his spirit, and his will. 

Mr. Hicks, who started his marathon training over the summer, is no stranger to long-distance running. While incarcerated, he participated in “run-a-thons,” grueling events that involved circling the prison yard track 126 times to complete the equivalent of a marathon. 

“Talking about being a gerbil on a wheel — that’s what that was,” he recalled. 

But running these laps was a way for Mr. Hicks to stay grounded. 

“It was my saving grace during my incarceration. They called me ‘Iron Man’ inside the jail. I was on a powerlifting team, broke records for my age and weight class, but running kept me sane,” he said.

What sets this year’s marathon apart is the profound sense of freedom Mr. Hicks now feels. Behind bars, running was about survival. Now, it’s about choice. 

“It amplifies what freedom means to me. I don’t have to do it — I choose to do it,” he said. “In prison, I wanted to stay as healthy as possible, to survive. Now, I’m running because I enjoy it.”