Since returning to Korea on July 27, 2015, to visit family prior to moving to Kearney, Nebraska, to start a new career, I have not had one night of sleep without waking up multiple times due to the summer heat and inexplicable humidity. The minute I turn off my fan, I sweat as if I have entered a sauna. Thus, signing up for the Hope Race Half Marathon in Seoul on August 15, 2015, confused and worried my parents, especially my father. He repeated, “Why are you doing that?” roughly twenty times the week of the race.

PC: Hope Race & Cecilia Kay

This year’s August 15 marked the seventieth anniversary of Korea’s independence from Japan; therefore, superficially, this running event looked special, although the date’s significance played no role in my decision to run 13.1 miles. Aware of the danger of heat exhaustion, I consumed three half-a-liter bottles of water and slices of watermelon, not foreseeing this would force me to use the men’s room many times prior to the race. Even so, not even halfway through the run, I desperately needed to go back with nowhere to do so, not to mention I did not want to disrupt my pace by temporarily stopping. I thought of nothing but this burden, and I cannot say peeing my shorts did not cross my mind; however, a friend had promised to wait at the finish line, so that option went out the window. Fortunately, the visualizing of the toilet eventually faded with the sweating, but unfortunately, this still hurt my stomach and slowed me down considerably. The course being hillier than I expected and the strong sunlight exacerbated the hardship. Based on how powerfully the rain poured for thirty minutes before the race, I was befuddled by the abrupt weather change into extreme heat and humidity. This drained me mentally, and I kept asking myself, “What the heck am I doing here? as my father said.

The friend who insisted she would take a study break and greet me at the finish line brought me a carton of Vita Coco and took photos of my final sprint. “Why did you take so long?” asked she, but I had no idea I had fallen over fifteen minutes short of my personal record of 2:01:15 from an exponentially hillier course, completing the run in 2:18:54.59. On a standard occasion, I would have been embarrassed and frustrated, but I spotted veteran runners struggling as I in roughly ninety-degree heat and brutal humidity and countless half marathoners behind me, proving most runners, if not all, were challenged. I continued, “I don’t like how they do this in kilometers [instead of in miles] here. There are more numbers to count, so it feels longer psychologically.” My right knee remained sturdy throughout, giving me confidence the injury from the recent ultramarathon has been sufficiently healed. The only notable physical pain being a headache reminded me I should not treat running at the peak of summer the same way I treat running in a cool temperature. In spite of this race being one of my worst performances to date, I gained valuable experience and have no regrets.