My first marathon!
I don’t know I should call it a race or maybe a battle against all odds. It’s about my first marathon I ran last Sunday, that felt more like a battle than a race. The road to race day was anything but smooth. Back in November, an injury threw my entire training plan off course. I couldn't run for the rest of the year, and when I finally restarted in January, I struggled to regain my endurance. Leading up to the marathon, I hadn’t managed a single long run beyond 21 km. In my mind, I was already preparing for a DNF(Did Not Finish).
Still, I showed up on race day. I told myself, “Let’s just see how far I can go.” The first half went better than expected, but at 25 km, reality hit me hard. My legs felt like lead, my body screamed for rest, and the remaining 17 km felt insurmountable. I thought about quitting, about finding an easier way out. But something inside me refused to stop. Maybe I wouldn’t finish strong, maybe I wouldn’t even run, I just needed to finish.
Then came the real challenge: 34 km to 42 km. This was a level of suffering I had never experienced before. Every muscle in my body protested with each step. I desperately wanted a bike to take me to the finish line. Walking felt impossible, let alone running. My mind played tricks on me, asking why I was even doing this. But I pushed on, one painful step at a time.
The marathon had a cut-off time of 6 hours. As I dragged myself forward, I wasn’t sure if I would make it. Every minute counted. And then, somehow, against all odds, I crossed the finish line at 5 hours 51 minutes just 9 minutes before the cut-off.
For someone who considers themselves a fast runner, this wasn’t a time I would usually be proud of. But this race wasn’t about time. It wasn’t about pace or performance. It was about perseverance. It was about battling self-doubt, overcoming setbacks, and proving to myself that I could push through, even when everything was against me.
This was, without a doubt, my most special race. Not because I ran fast, but because I learned what it truly means to endure. When your body gives up, when your mind is screaming for you to stop, and when every fiber of your being wants to quit, if you keep moving, even at a crawl, you can still cross the finish line.
My first marathon didn’t go as I had hoped, but it gave me something even more valuable: a lesson in resilience. Sometimes, it’s not about achieving your best time. Sometimes, it’s about finishing the race, no matter how broken you feel.
If there's one thing I’ve learned from this experience, it’s that pain is temporary, but the strength you gain from pushing through lasts forever.
No matter how hard it gets, just keep moving forward :)