In the annals of athletic history, few names evoke the pinnacle of human endurance quite like Eliud Kipchoge. The Kenyan marathon legend, born on November 5, 1984, in the rural village of Kapsisiywa, has redefined what it means to push the boundaries of possibility.

From his humble beginnings—jogging three kilometers to school each day under the watchful eye of his single mother, a dedicated teacher—Kipchoge rose to become a global icon.

His story is one of relentless discipline, philosophical depth, and an unyielding belief that “no human is limited.” Yet, on a crisp autumn day in November 2025, the world received news that shattered the spirit of runners everywhere: Eliud Kipchoge, the greatest marathon athlete of all time, has been diagnosed with an incurable disease, leaving him with only a few precious months to live.

The announcement came quietly at first, through a heartfelt statement released by Kipchoge’s management team on November 15, 2025, just weeks after his debut at the TCS New York City Marathon.

In a sport where triumphs are measured in seconds and setbacks in sweat-soaked miles, this revelation felt like the ultimate cruel twist.

Kipchoge, now 41, had just crossed the finish line in 17th place at the New York event on November 2, completing his collection of all seven Abbott World Marathon Majors—a feat that cemented his legacy as the most decorated marathoner in history.

Crowds had roared for him along the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge, unaware that beneath his signature smile and waving arms, a silent battle raged.

“I’ve run for glory, for records, for my country,” Kipchoge said in an exclusive interview from his home in Eldoret, Kenya, his voice steady but laced with the weight of finality. “Now, I run toward peace, knowing I’ve given everything.”

The cause of Kipchoge’s illness traces back to a confluence of factors that underscore the hidden toll of elite endurance sports. Diagnosed with advanced amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), commonly known as Lou Gehrig’s disease, Kipchoge’s condition has progressed rapidly over the past year.

ALS is a progressive neurodegenerative disorder that attacks nerve cells in the brain and spinal cord, leading to the loss of voluntary muscle control.

Incurable and relentless, it claims lives within two to five years of diagnosis on average, though Kipchoge’s doctors estimate he has mere months left due to the aggressive onset.

Medical experts, speaking on condition of anonymity, point to a perfect storm: the cumulative strain of two decades of high-mileage training—often exceeding 120 miles per week—compounded by microscopic head and spinal traumas from the jarring impacts of marathon pounding on unforgiving roads.

Kipchoge’s career, a tapestry of 15 marathon victories in his first 18 attempts, demanded superhuman resilience. He shattered the world record twice, first in 2018 at the Berlin Marathon with a blistering 2:01:39, then in 2022 with an even more astonishing 2:01:09.

His crowning jewel remains the 2019 INEOS 1:59 Challenge, where he clocked 1:59:40—the first sub-two-hour marathon—on a controlled course in Vienna, proving that mental fortitude could conquer physics. But glory came at a cost.

Neurologists now link repetitive concussive forces from his footstrike—estimated at up to 1,000 pounds per step—to accelerated protein misfolding in motor neurons, a hallmark of ALS.

Environmental factors in Kenya’s Rift Valley, where high-altitude training exposes athletes to intense UV radiation and potential neurotoxins from agricultural runoff, may have exacerbated vulnerabilities. “Years of pushing the body beyond its design,” one sports medicine specialist explained, “can awaken dormant genetic predispositions.

Kipchoge’s is a stark reminder that even the unbreakable can fracture.”

Whispers of health concerns surfaced earlier in 2025. At the Sydney Marathon in August, his eighth-place finish—his worst in years—drew puzzled headlines. Kipchoge attributed it to a “blocked ear,” but insiders revealed fatigue and unexplained muscle twitches that sidelined him for weeks. The emotional scars from 2024 lingered too.

Following the tragic car crash death of Kelvin Kiptum, the 24-year-old phenom who snatched Kipchoge’s world record in Chicago, the elder statesman endured a vicious wave of online harassment. Kenyan social media erupted with baseless accusations, branding Kipchoge as complicit in a conspiracy.

“They threatened to burn my family,” he later confessed, tears streaming during a BBC interview. The stress, doctors say, likely triggered a cortisol surge that inflamed neural pathways, hastening ALS progression. Kipchoge lost friends, sleep, and slices of his unbreakable spirit amid the vitriol.

“I feared for my mother’s life,” he admitted. “She raised me to run free, not in fear.”

As the diagnosis settled like dust on a forgotten trail, Kipchoge’s response embodied the philosophy that has defined him: positivity and purpose. “ALS doesn’t run me; I run it,” he declared, echoing his mantra from the Paris Olympics, where a heartbreaking DNF (did not finish) tested his mettle.

Refusing pity, he has channeled his remaining energy into advocacy, launching the Eliud Kipchoge World Tour—a two-year odyssey of seven marathons across seven continents, now repurposed as a beacon for ALS awareness and youth mentorship.

“My first mountain was records and medals,” he shared, referencing David Brooks’ book *The Second Mountain*.

“This is my second: touching lives, showing that even in weakness, we climb.” The tour, kicking off in Antarctica in early 2026, aims to raise $10 million for ALS research through the Kipchoge Foundation, partnering with global entities like the ALS Association and Kenyan health ministries.

Kipchoge’s final wishes, penned in a poignant open letter dated November 20, 2025, reveal a man at peace with mortality. First, he implores the running world to honor his legacy not with tears, but with action. “Train harder, but listen to your body,” he writes.

“I broke barriers so you could build bridges—for health, for community, for the voiceless.” He wishes for his NN Running Team, the elite squad he co-founded, to evolve into a global network supporting young African talents, with scholarships for medical checkups to prevent overuse injuries.

To his family—wife Grace and three children—he leaves a simple directive: “Run the trails of Kapsisiywa together. Let laughter be your pace.” And to Kenya, his eternal pride, he urges unity. “We are one nation of runners. Let no shadow divide us, as it tried with Kiptum.”

The outpouring has been seismic. Barack Obama, whom Kipchoge met post-New York for a soul-stirring talk on legacy, tweeted: “Eliud, you’ve run for humanity. Now, humanity runs for you.” Fellow Olympian Sifan Hassan, who debuted alongside him in New York, vowed to dedicate her next major to him.

Fundraising surged overnight, with the New York Road Runners pledging a Kipchoge Endurance Fund. In Eldoret, thousands gathered for a solidarity run, their footsteps a thunderous tribute.

Eliud Kipchoge’s story isn’t one of defeat; it’s the ultimate endurance test. From the dusty paths of Nandi County to the finish lines of Berlin, London, and beyond, he has taught us that limits are illusions, crafted by doubt.

As ALS casts its shadow, Kipchoge runs on—not in competition, but in compassion. His disease may be incurable, but his impact is immortal. In a world racing toward burnout, he reminds us to pause, breathe, and stride forward with grace.

The greatest marathoner in history isn’t fading; he’s inspiring the next lap. For those searching “Eliud Kipchoge health update 2025” or “ALS in athletes,” this is the truth: even in twilight, legends light the way.

Kipchoge’s final miles urge us all—run for joy, run for others, run until the trail calls you home.

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