I signed up for a 10KM marathon. I said, why not?
Two weeks before the actual event, I was doubting if I ever gonna make it to the finish line. I've only done jogging often times during weekends. The last run I did was not even close to half. Besides, I’ve got nothing to prove. But I wanted to do it. I wanted to finish the run. I wanted to measure myself at least once (or twice).
So I practiced.
First attempt at 4KM, I barely made it. I was catching my breath — I felt terrible. Was that my limit? Is that all I can do now?
Second run, I was already doing 6KM. I grew stronger. I felt stronger. I got one more week before the run. I should try more. 2 days before the actual marathon, I finished off around 8KM. What a stretch! I felt even more terrible. But that moment, I've gotten this inclination I may as well finish the trail.
Marathon day.
With more than 3K people running, we’re at the last batch to run. I started off slow with a steady pace. I just kept going. I didn't stop.
It was at 8km when I felt my confidence skyrocketed to 100.1% that I whispered to myself, "You're actually actually nailing this!" I was able to sustain my breathing at normal, my legs were strong. I was running good strides. Then I saw the finish line from a distance. I ran off fast and hard. Did my body just shift to adrenaline mode?
I reached the finish line. That felt good. That felt right.