My embarrassing performance at the Berlin Marathon did not sit well with me, and I was eager to redeem myself soon. I sought a half marathon, and Virginia’s local Danville Half Marathon, taking place on October 16, 2021, in the eponymous city caught my eye because I observed the forecast that the morning should start off cool and the course was advertised as mostly flat. I still waited until minutes prior to the online registration deadline because my employer hosted an annual nearly all-day Olympics the day before; not knowing what I would be required to do, I wanted to be sure my body felt fine, which I thought it did until I woke up the next morning with aching thighs. This became my second consecutive race starting on sore legs.
To my unpleasant surprise, the 13.1-miler kicked off already full of sunlight and heat, likely reaching almost 80 degrees, and I could feel its impact on my body especially with four miles to go. In spite of my gradually slowing down, I refused to walk and maintained a relatively steady pace, allowing me to pass several strong-looking runners who had to mix in walking throughout and toward the end. I crossed the finish in an unnecessary sprint, thinking the man behind me would be attempting to catch up to me when he did not, in 2:01:51.24, more than sufficient for first place in my age group of 30-34. Albeit I arrived expecting a comfortable sub-2:00:00, once I felt the heat from the get-go, I knew this generally easy goal to be an uphill battle. I have no doubt once the weather finally cools off, I will regain my speed, so I will remain content in simply giving my best for now.
Leading up to the race, I predictably walked exponentially more than I should have, even climbing up and down the Berliner Dom that caused my legs to violently shake the day before, and I woke up the morning of the marathon with sore legs. Albeit the weather on race day up until a couple of weeks prior was forecast ideal for a 26.2-mile run, just that one day suddenly turned on us with unexpected heat of nearly 80 degrees and humidity. Because the event website asked runners not to wear headphones, I for the third consecutive race and first for the marathon distance ran without music and again enjoyed the purity of the run itself. I took a slow pace but still moved faster than most in my wave, for 4:15 or slower or first-time marathoners. A mile in, I had to squeeze through a couple, common in a race of this immensity, and politely said, “Excuse me.” What sounded like a British accent came back with, “Go around,” which I ignored until I heard what followed: “Dickhead.” I never expected to be cussed at by a stranger in a marathon out of all places and instinctively turned around and replied, “Shut the f–k up, b-tch,” to which the troublemaker remained silent and likely frightened. This immature incident bothered me for the next mile, but I quickly shook it off and told myself, “I am in Berlin. Enjoy it!” I even faced difficulty on mile 3 maintaining my pace, thanks to the virtual barricade that had formed of countless slower runners with no space for me to pass. I atypically had to stop by a porta potty, or so I thought, past the 20-kilometer split timing mats; I could not pee and wasted 30 seconds. Here, whether from the short stop or the adverse conditions, perhaps both, my flow was abruptly snapped and I could not relocate my comfortable strides. 16 miles in, I began struggling. I already knew a personal record would be a push but still thought I had a 4:30 in me, which proved to be too big of a B goal for the day. I swallowed my pride and significantly lowered my goal to finishing under five hours, and when I noticed my Garmin and the kilometer signs did not coincide, I pushed the final mile and a half harder, knowing I would be nowhere near the finish when my watch reached 26.2 miles. I crossed the finish line in 4:57:42, by far my slowest marathon to date, at 26.8 miles on my Garmin; at my slow pace at the end, this distance discrepancy meant a difference of 6-7 minutes. Nevertheless, I was filled with gratitude toward God that He even allowed me to do this that seemed to be impossible until not even a couple of weeks previously. I would have to be a selfish brat to be upset over something as minute as my finish time when many participants could not finish and many more could not toe the line for a variety of reasons; I witnessed one lady lying on the ground being attended to about 1.5 miles to go, which made me feel emotional for her.
Running on Faith 