Around mile 18 of a 26-mile marathon, many runners experience the phenomenon of “hitting the wall” when their body simply runs out of fuel. Paradoxically, it leaves runners feeling like their legs are both made of jelly and also weigh a ton. 

For runners on the Tufts Marathon Team (TMT), coach Don Megerle has a secret weapon so his runner’s legs don’t feel like jelly when they hit the wall, or even hit the wall at all: peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at mile nine. 

Megerle’s signature sandwiches are one aspect of his overall philosophy of marathon training. 

“We have what's called the TMT trilogy plus one,” Megerle said. “If you pace yourself properly, hydrate the right way and eat properly, that's your trilogy—your plus one is to run with a teammate. If you do all that, you're going to have a great race.”

Megerle has been at Tufts for 54 years, the first 33 of which as the men’s swimming coach. In late 2003, he decided to retire, but Tufts wasn’t done with him yet.

“We had one of the best swimming teams in the country at the time, and I thought the kids should experience something different,” Megerle said. “Trying to get away wasn't as easy as I thought, though, because the president then, Larry Bacow, said don't leave Tufts, coach our marathon team.”

At the time, Megerle didn’t know about the TMT—which, in collaboration with Bank of America, raises funds to fight childhood obesity, cancer, and hunger. So in April of 2004, Megerle joined other Tufts friends and family at the tables set out at mile nine and was “blown away.” 

“I've had many national champions in swimming,” Megerle said, “but when I got to the marathon and saw all these people finishing, it just inspired me beyond words.”

Megerle’s PB&J tradition began at a team dinner the night before the marathon a few years after he took over as the coach of the TMT in 2004.

”I've got a banquet of 200 runners in the gymnasium, and I happened to ask the question, ‘Anybody here want a PB&J at mile nine tomorrow?’” Megerle said. “And freaking 200 hands go up.”

After dinner that night, Megerle swung by his local Stop & Shop, bought bags of bread and jars of peanut butter and jelly, and got to work making 200 sandwiches ready to go at eight o’clock the next morning.

“You have to get the right kind of bread—white bread, not wheat, because that has little kernels in it,” Megerle said. “Then you have to get the right kind of peanut butter, which is Jif, because it’s so smooth. And then you have to get the right kind of smooth jelly—no strawberry preserves or anything that gets stuck in your teeth.”

Not only does Megerle have a precise recipe—two tablespoons each of peanut butter and jelly—he has a systematic process to produce a snack tailored for eaters on the run.

“I have a little machine to cut off the crust, so I end up with a sandwich that’s about two and a half inches squared,” Megerle said. “I put the peanut butter first and then the jelly, press it together, and then squeeze it a little bit so it becomes a little entity unto itself.”

Megerle then puts each one into its own plastic bag and stores them in the refrigerator until the next morning. His record is 100 sandwiches in one night.

For the runners, the combination of umami-rich peanut butter and fruity jelly hits that perfect sweet-savory balance. It’s energizing, nostalgic, and downright delicious. And though no one knows for sure who invented the now iconic pairing of PB and J, one thing is certain—they were meant to be together. 

Two other things that were meant to be together are Don Megerle and the Tufts Marathon Team. Since he started coaching the team, over 2,700 runners have completed the Boston Marathon successfully, raising over $12 million for the Gerald J. and Dorothy R. Friedman School of Nutrition Science and Policy in the process.

“The PB&Js work,” Megerle said. “They taste good, they’re easily digestible, and they promote your energy systems at the highest level.”

Megerle’s dedication to providing his signature PB&J sandwiches to every runner is characteristic of what has made him such a successful and beloved coach.

“I live by the code: ‘The people you coach don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care,’” Megerle said.