To celebrate my 31^st birthday on March 14, 2020, I registered for the Montgomery Half Marathon, taking place in the eponymous city of Alabama. Two days later, participants received an ominous announcement email that the city mayor will determine whether or not the race will carry on the following morning at 9:30 AM CST, which he postponed another hour and a half just to announce his decision to cancel the event due to COVID-19. I became infuriated that he would halt an event of this magnitude that clearly involves numerous individuals booking hotels and traveling from afar on less than 20 hours’ notice instead of several days sooner, in which case I would not have signed up at the peak of registration price or booked a hotel.

Acknowledging asking for a refund to be an uphill battle, I became so upset I skipped lunch. A virtual race, which I do not enjoy, would have been the only sensible mitigation, but the event continued to ask entrants in a friendly humorous tone to simply “pinky promise” to run a 5K or half marathon in the next 30 days for the finisher’s medal, which did not sound legitimate. I emailed the race director directly, asking if he would allow me to run on Friday, March 13, 2020, from Atlanta, Georgia, after which I would send him photos of my Garmin statistics, selfie from the run, and registration information along with my mailing address for the company to mail my finisher’s medal and “SWAG.” I added I want to feel that I earned my finisher’s medal and this more formally sounding virtual race would help me more easily justify the hardware.

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Once I had the race director’s approval, I immediately took off without much food or fluid in my system, not realizing the sudden spike of outdoor temperature into the 70s and my neighborhood’s abundance of rolling and extreme hills that normally exhaust me within four miles; I encountered hardly any flat part throughout the virtual race, and my pace predictably took a hit from the beginning. I even had to walk several times towards the end mainly going uphill, and I felt like I was mountain running. Because I did not presume such a drastic increase in temperature, I did not prepare sufficient water and ran out of hydration with five miles to go. (I initially thought about running without my hydration pack. Thank goodness I did not.) For a 1:47 half marathoner to take 2:27:31.8 to cover 13.46 miles, even with the elevation gain of 840 feet, I was both disappointed and humbled. (I always run farther in virtual races because I only have my Garmin, not as accurate as actual measuring, to confirm my distance.) Hopefully I will never have to run another virtual race.

As I often do, I signed up for a race at the last minute, two days prior to the event, this time Augusta University Half Marathon in Augusta, Georgia, on February 22, 2020. In a transition period in the state capital approximately 150 miles northwest, I wanted to make the most of the relatively free time I do not know I would have again once I land a new job. Following my recent 74.2-miler, I could not tell how much my body and speed had recovered, not to mention my left pinky toenail recently finally broke off; nevertheless, my latest casual run on rolling hills gave me confidence a large portion of my fitness had returned and prompted me to register.

At the Expo, a veteran suggested I tag the name of a fallen soldier on my back during the half marathon. I have a tremendous amount of respect for all active and former service members, but I wanted what I did to be intentional and not for show and apologized for not taking up on this. I decided to participate in this race for my enjoyment and was not willing to pretend I did so for a cause, which would appear admirable but be disingenuous.

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The half marathoners toed the line in 28 degrees, and a lady wearing a jacket running her first 13.1 was perplexed I would dress so lightly, after which I warned her she may not enjoy the extra layer soon. No one knew the details of the course, as the organizers did not share an elevation chart. Some runners from the area said there should only be one minor hill, so I anticipated mostly flat and took off at a swift pace only to discover a one-mile climb on the fly beginning near mile 7, followed by a brief flat break and another steep climb. Just for that mile my pace slowed down drastically, but what goes up must come down and an equally lengthy downhill awaited. I let gravity take over and carry me down and went all out to compensate for the slow mile. My second half resulted in a major negative split, with my final full mile and the rest at a seven-minute-mile pace. Just past 11 miles lined up photos of fallen soldiers, United States flags, and volunteers, to whom I repeated, “Thank you.” The last person in the section seemed to remember me from the previous day as he pointed at me speaking to a veteran who had asked me to carry a name.

With so much of the unknown in terms of my recovery and the course, I had set low expectations; thus, I was elated to cross the finish line in 1:50:20 in my first race that started in 2020 (my recent ultra went into the New Year). Thank You, Jesus!

To distract myself from the inevitable loneliness of the holidays, I eyed a three-day race in Phoenix, Arizona; nevertheless, I do not participate in a race of this magnitude without God’s clear green light, and after praying about the matter with my faith mentor and mother for a week, we all concluded no, especially with the lingering injury in my right foot. I also came across a 24-hour race, requiring the runner to go around a 1.06-mile loop in either direction however many times he/she can (or wants to) within the time limit, in San Francisco, California, and after praying about this as well, I registered to take on this poetic challenge of finishing the last day of the previous decade and starting the first day of the new decade running at New Year’s One Day. Leading up to the race, I faced a multitude of obstacles—a major snowstorm that made driving out of central Nebraska hazardous, my first flight to Charlotte, North Carolina, being delayed 40 minutes with the layover time already being tight to begin with, and running across the Charlotte Douglas International Airport to barely catch my connecting flight—that I felt simply toeing the line would be a victory in itself.

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PC: Foggy Bay Photos

I cannot remember in recent times being this nervous before a running event, dwelling on this insane last-minute decision to run what should be the second-longest race of my life and not entirely understanding the state of my right foot. I atypically thankfully managed sufficient sleep and thus did not question my ability to stay awake all 24 hours. With the foot less than 100%, I could only keep the faith my Father would shield the injury; after the initial minor stinging and my praying over it, the foot no longer posed a risk and lost my attention. I planned to take my first break around what became my second-fastest 50K, of 6:19:15, when I felt the initial sign of fatigue. Whatever prompted this, I began singing worship songs I was listening to out loud, and all of a sudden my strength was renewed, allowing me to carry on thinking I would be a fool to snap this flow now. I took my first sitting break after 40 miles, just over 8:46:00, solely to conserve energy to last the entire race. I continued to converse with God and recite the many biblical verses I do every morning and felt such a physical presence of His being with me and providing for me that I said to myself I would stop complaining about the uncertainty of my future with this God, Who is interested in every minute detail of my life, for me and by my side.

50-mile split

Slightly past 50 miles, personal record of 12:07:35 in the distance, by an hour, I lied down for less than 30 minutes to give my feet well-deserved rest as my external battery charged my Garmin and iPhone. My body temperature predictably rapidly dropped and as I arose my legs started to feel heavier. The biggest struggle revealed itself between here and 100K, another personal best of under 17:30:00, by over 2.5 hours, likely psychological with this being my bare minimum goal. Once I secured that 100K+ buckle, I released pressure and thought more casually, “Now it is just about how much farther I can go than 100K before the end.” My feet and legs continued to lose power and gain pain, thanks majorly to the numerous blisters, and with several hours to go, I could not help but halt after only two loops. When I miscalculated in my head how fast I would have to move to reach 70 loops prior to 24 hours, I desperately sped up without a pause, not knowing I had more time than I thought. Crossing the timing mats for the 69^th time, I, already hallucinating, acknowledged most likely this next one would be my last. Towards the end of this final loop, I drastically slowed down to the point of almost dragging myself; although I had roughly 35 minutes to complete another loop, I had no confidence I could sufficiently do this before running out of time; a top female in the 12-hour race missed her final loop completion by eight seconds and consequently the entire loop did not count. I had already exceeded my expectations by a small margin, and I decided to conclude my race and wait for the official closure of the event.

Amazing and inspirational people!

70 laps, 74.2 miles, enough for bronze in my age group of 30-39, I converted this into kilometers for my family and close ones, most of whom more familiar with the metric system, which came to 119.413 kilometers. These wise people commented on the significance of both the numbers 119, Korea’s equivalent of 911 and that God rescued me, and 413, Philippians 4:13 to which I dearly hung on, that “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” God not only rescued me here but rather even more so in my drive back following the awards ceremony from San Francisco to San Jose, with there never being a vehicle around each of the countless times I was struck by microsleeps, and past midnight from Omaha back to Kearney, where many lights turned into balloons and cars continued to dance and switch lanes in front of me. God will forever be my 119 and 413, and I thank Him for this entertaining reminder and the wise individuals who helped me interpret this. Thank You, Jesus!

This wraps up my most-active race year, which included a 74.2-miler, a 50K, a marathon, eight half marathons, and four 10K’s. Happy New Year, everyone!

I opened Thanksgiving 2019, like the last three years, running my fourth consecutive Wild Turkey Chase 13.1 in Pickrell, Nebraska, the familiar flat trail I had already conquered on four separate occasions. I recently reset my frozen Garmin, not knowing this would format all the saved data on the watch, and for the first time maintained the auto-lap to read each of my mile times rather than only the average mile pace of the whole. I decided to use this standard method here but fretted I may not as easily be able to tell my estimate finish time this way. With the temperature hitting just below 30 degrees, my preference, and acknowledging this to be my final half marathon of the year, I set out to run my fourth sub-1:50:00 in the distance, which I have accomplished twice on this course.

PC: Wild Turkey Chase 13.1

I have been reading Deena Kastor’s New York Times Best Seller Let Your Mind Run and consciously applied her motivating tactics and positive attitude to push forward. Rather than solely focusing on my own running, I would pick one runner in front, gradually catch up, and then gently pass without forcing the pace out of my norm, the process I successfully executed several times throughout the race. I found this more thrilling, as running alone does not motivate me as much to pick up the pace. When my earphones ran out of batteries with four miles to go, instead of panicking this could slow me down, I reminded myself, after being grateful this did not happen sooner, most elite long-distance runners do not even listen to music when they run and thought optimistically this may help me concentrate on the rhythm of my breathing and strides, as I counted one-two-three-one-two-three and one-two-three-four-one-two-three-four.

As I thought, because I did not know my overall average mile pace, I could not tell how much faster I had to go to reach my goal and moved forward with every ounce of my remaining energy. Aside from the very first mile of 8:08, I ran my fastest mile of 8:12.3 in the final full mile and most likely secured a negative split in the second half, still not sufficient and crossing the finish line in 1:51:03, third in my age group of 30-34. Everyone has good and bad days, so I remained content simply knowing I could not have done more this particular day. In this period of uncertainty and all that I have been dealing with mentally and emotionally, I, from the start of the run, in my head said, “Running is easy,” as I know clearly the task ahead of me. At least, for the moment, I do not have to stress over my future, perhaps one of the main reasons I so habitually sign up for long-distance races that also happen to play an accurate metaphor for life.

As I prepared to celebrate this holiday alone at Golden Corral again, I checked a text message from a church friend inviting me to join her family, which I strangely predicted beforehand. I told the family she saved me from being “emo” again. Happy Thanksgiving!

Eager to take advantage of the cooling weather to set personally fast times in one or two additional half marathons prior to the conclusion of 2019, I registered for the Longview Half Marathon, taking place in Grandview, Missouri, on November 9, 2019. I never enjoy driving this far, nearly six hours both ways, for just a 13.1-mile run, but I used this being my first running event in Missouri as a motivator.

PC: KC Running Company

I cannot remember the last time I managed sufficient sleep before a race, so doing so this time felt almost foreign. Confident off my recent Chicago Marathon, I shot for my fourth sub-1:50:00 and even a personal record in the half marathon, especially reading and hearing from many the course is expected to be flat. Nevertheless, around four miles in and already encountering repeated semi-steep rolling hills, I knew hitting a personal best would be verging on impossible and shifted my focus toward staying ahead of the 1:50 pacers. Once I saw the front 1:50 pacer in sight not even halfway through, I realized even this secondary goal would be a major challenge and only thought about pushing my hardest and trying not to slow down too drastically.

Final sprint! PC: KC Running Company

With a quarter of a mile to go, I sprinted like a maniac to the finish, passing numerous runners, including those participating in the 10K and 5K, on the way, which made me wonder if I inadvertently approached the race conservatively to have this much energy remaining and could have gone slightly faster. I even asked myself, particularly in the middle of the race, whether my losing weight would benefit me by giving me less to carry or sap my strength and endurance. Although I did not achieve either of my time goals, I did manage to run my fourth-fastest half marathon, in 1:51:40.9. I find contentment in knowing I gave my all and that my three quicker times came from easier courses. Thank You, Jesus!

Ready to enter my name into the lottery for the Bank of America Chicago Marathon 2019, taking place on October 13, I remember praying to God to only allow my entry to be accepted if I could actually participate. I more often than not sign up for races at the last minute, lacking confidence my schedule will not change; thus, being admitted almost a year prior to my first Abbott World Marathon Major slightly concerned me, especially as I predicted I would be out of Kearney, Nebraska, and have begun a new job by then.

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Running the marathon feels like just another day at the office at this point, and I remained more anxious about learning how to get around the city of Chicago, specifically from my Airbnb to Grant Park, where the race commenced. The Expo in McCormick Place with its immensity seemed more like a major business conference, and I spent six hours here the day before my run, making the most of all the perks and even meeting two of the greatest American female marathoners of all time, Joan Benoit Samuelson and Deena Kastor. As Joan kindly signed for me, she asked how many marathons I have completed, and I replied, “I have run five ultras, and this is my fourth marathon.” She continued, “You are serious,” and I felt shy and out of place in the presence of this humble legend. I also asked Deena after her guest-speaker appearance, “What is your main source of motivation?” to which she answered, “Being a role model and a good mother.” I could have been more nervous if I had read more thoroughly through just how much these two women have accomplished in the sport of marathon.

Pre-race!

Walking far more extensively than I planned the final two days leading up to Chicago, I worried this may hurt my performance. Following twenty minutes of sleep, I rode Uber and then the subway to pick up my professional-runner friend, who ended up finishing in 2:16:29 and 31^st male overall, from his hotel and walk to the event location together. I had never walked so far to reach the starting line, which seemed to be at least half a mile away from where my corral, G, assembled. The initial lengthy tunnel lost my Garmin satellite, which utterly messed up my GPS. Another tunnel or two later hindered satellite progress as well, but I reminded myself GPS does not mean much anyway. Intentionally or unintentionally, one fit blonde woman and I continued to run in proximity from around mile 4 to mile 15; she would be in front and then pop back up from behind, I would pass her and she would pass me, and later I just smiled each time we ran almost shoulder to shoulder. I half-jokingly blame her for my overpacing the first half, crossing the 13.1-mile timing mat in 1:57:46, but based on how strong I felt I thought I possibly could break four hours, my primary ambitious goal. Unsurprisingly, however, I hit the first wall around mile 16, but I repeated to myself, “This will not always get worse,” as ultrarunning legend David Horton would say, and carried on. I recovered for a moment, but with seven or eight miles to go, I really bonked and drastically slowed down, and I battled constantly with my mind, “Should I walk a little?” but each time I thought of what would make me happy after, this time eating Korean food, and persevered. The effect of my lack of sleep rapidly revealed itself, as I almost felt like I was sleep-running. Furthermore, I must have passed, squeezing through and running around, at least a thousand runners and not many runners passed me the first fifteen miles, which could have contributed to my loss of energy. Slightly past 21 miles, I pulled out my last of three Honey Stinger gels in my right pocket just to accidentally drop it, and I, beyond frustrated, decided to move forward without pausing, mainly due to the muscle tension in my neck that would have given me pain had I crouched down.

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I, by the grace of God, overcame these obstacles and succeeded in never walking throughout the entire 26.2 miles, crossing the finish line in 4:19:20. As I walked another half a mile to leave the finish area, I did not feel content, as I believed wholeheartedly I could have performed better; nevertheless, this substantial personal record in the marathon showed me how far I have come since my first 26.2 five-and-a-half years ago in Atlanta, Georgia.

From start to finish, the crowd and performers filled the streets with positive energy and entertaining signs, and this truly means a great deal to runners. Meeting numerous individuals with the same passion from all over the world brought out the motormouth social butterfly in me, and I miss that atmosphere. Ultimately, I hope to finish all six of the Abbott World Marathon Majors, leaving Boston, New York City, Berlin, Tokyo, and London on the list of marathons I need to pursue. Finding a way into these Majors feels more challenging than running the marathons themselves, as I have already been denied by New York City and London, but I will figure out a way. Thank You, Jesus!

As close to Kansas as it gets from Kearney, Nebraska, and with the start and finish at different points, which I prefer to out and back, the Race to the Center Half Marathon that kicks off in Smith Center and concludes in Lebanon seemed too ideal to pass up, although only a week after my most-recent half marathon in Marysville, also in Kansas. Living up to its name, this event would take the runners (and cyclists) to the geographic center of the contiguous United States, even more appealing. Beginning by a cemetery felt spooky, but, as a few participants said, “It is better to start here than end here.” Valid point.

These ladies are amazing!

The rugged course for the most part repeated steep ups and downs with hardly any flat to give my body a chance to recompose, contrary to what I had imagined, to be mostly flat, based on the couple of videos I watched on the race website. Just like last Saturday, I participated mainly to use this as part of training for the Chicago Marathon less than a month away. I did not intend to push my body to the limit to achieve a particular time to avoid risking any unnecessary injuries; thus, even though I barely missed coming under two hours on this unrelenting trail, finishing in 2:01:09, I was not too disappointed, and how strong I felt on these ceaseless rolling hills actually boosted my confidence slightly, especially as I predict the weather and the energy from the mammoth crowd and environment then will give me many intangible advantages. More than anything, my right foot still feeling sturdy even after these two 13.1-milers in a week reassures me my body will be ready to go on October 13, 2019.

PC: Pony Express Half Marathon & 5K

With the 2019 Chicago Marathon the second Sunday of October finally in sight, I planned to race once or twice in September as part of training and registered for a half marathon with the inaugural Pony Express Half Marathon & 5K in Marysville, Kansas, taking place on September 7, 2019. What I believed to be a potential stress fracture in my right foot for months now seems to be a strain closer to my ankle, which I feel more intensely, strange considering I have been running less due to my recent overseas business trip. I could not help but worry running this race could worsen the injury and jeopardize my first World Marathon Major I had been eyeing for nearly a year at this point.

I try not to be greedy with my finish time in the summer, so I never intended to push for a personal record. I simply used this 13.1-mile run, 13.21 miles on my Garmin, to sustain endurance and build confidence from this minor foot pain. On pace for a near 1:50:00 finish and feeling as strong as the beginning for more than half the race, I did not see my drastically slowing down the final two miles coming. In addition to the heat, direct sunlight, and headwind, my constantly shouting for directions while turning on and off my earbuds and pausing and restarting my music unnecessarily drained my stamina by throwing off my rhythm, and I had to settle for an official time of 1:57:33. Nevertheless, I felt relieved my right foot did not bother me at any point on the course and I was able to comfortably achieve another sub-2:00:00 half marathon, both of which boosted my confidence for the upcoming marathon in just over a month, especially knowing the temperature will give me a mammoth advantage by that time. Bring back the cold already; I do not enjoy running in the summer heat! Thank You, Jesus!

Partly to explore Denver and partly to run my first-ever race in Colorado, I registered for a 10K with The EatingWell & Fit Foodie Festival & 5K/10K, taking place in Westminster at an altitude of nearly 5,500 feet on August 3, 2019, and drove to the Mile High City the morning before. I felt the slight effect of thin air every now and then but could not confidently say placebo or my nonstop singing did not play a role. I hydrated myself more meticulously and extensively than I usually do, especially the night prior to the event with a large can of coconut water and two bottles of water from the hotel. Walking around the mini-festival with thirty minutes left until 10K runners took off, I suddenly and rapidly felt my breathing become uncomfortable; thus, I drank an additional two cups of water, hoping I would not have to use the bathroom in the middle of the run.

When the race director told the “five, six, and seven-minute milers” to line up front, I naturally moved to the back of the line, thinking for sure this untested territory would deteriorate my performance. When the race commenced, unsurprisingly because I see this way too often, numerous joggers and even walkers audaciously clogged up the front, which forced me to spend the first thirty steps or so going through and around them. (Forgive me, but this annoys me a bit.)

Considering how I felt simply moving around right before the start, I was pleasantly surprised how efficiently my body adapted and kept up, especially adding the heat and constant rolling hills. Hardly any participant passed me and I passed quite a few throughout the entire distance. After managing to maintain a seven-minute-mile pace for the first couple of miles, I gradually slowed down and crossed the finish line in 51:25, gold out of nine in my age group of 30-39 and 10^th place out of 127 finishers overall. I had always been under the impression most runners in Colorado must be intensely competitive, and due to this being my first time ever running at altitude on top of so much of the unknown, I never even imagined receiving an award outside the finisher’s medal to be a possibility. I remember praying to God, like a child, to pleasantly surprise me, and He did pleasantly surprise me. (I do not normally pray this immaturely and selfishly, so do not judge!)

The race most certainly lived up to its name, as the post-race festivities made the day far more exciting and memorable. Like the motormouth that I am, I could not stop talking to everyone around me and ended up being one of the last runners to leave the scene. I did not travel all the way to Colorado from Kearney, Nebraska, solely to run a 10K, but this event alone made the trip worth it. As always, thank You, Jesus!

P.S. Shout-out to the awesome representative of Omission Brewing Co. who graciously stored my keys while I ran and gave me a free twelve-pack of Ultimate Light Golden Ale on my way out (even though I rarely drink)! 😉

Taking a leap of faith and ready to explore new opportunities outside the minute city of Kearney, Nebraska, I somewhat called home for the past four years, I submitted my resignation letter to the University of Nebraska at Kearney. Unexpectedly, the new head of my office asked me to continue to work remotely until I decide concretely what to do next, which I accepted following prayers with my close ones. Prior to this transition, I planned to briefly travel overseas in hopes of refreshing my mind and not stress myself over work and the future while away and, after looking into many options, decided on Prague, the Czech Republic; many of my friends have studied here and my mother has told me a couple of times about the beauty of the city.

Of course, knowing my travel style and with only three-and-a-half days to explore, I knew physically this would be the furthest thing from vacation, which proved to be true. From July 9 to 12, 2019, according to my Health app, I covered 31 miles on foot and climbed an equivalent of 196 floors. Starting day one in the afternoon due to the flight schedule and focusing on figuring out the transportation system, I had time for the Prague Astronomical Clock and Charles Bridge, both of which included going up to the top of the towers, and a one-hour boat tour with Prague Boats, which I barely made on sprinting nearly two miles due to constantly getting lost. I began the second day with the full admission to the Prague Castle, not realizing the multitude of buildings within that would require me to spend six hours there alone; these comprised the Old Royal Palace, the Story of Prague Castle, Basilica of St. George, Golden Lane, St. Vitus Cathedral, and Rosenburg Palace. I paid separately to ascend the seemingly endless stairs to the pinnacle of the Great South Tower, part of the St. Vitus Cathedral, which I recommend only to people in shape. Following, I hiked up to the Petrin Lookout Tower on the other side and climbed to the top of the monument, where I could capture a breathtaking panorama of the city.

Breathtaking panorama of Prague from the top of the Petrin Lookout Tower!

For day three, I booked the all-day Bohemian and Saxon Switzerland Tour with Cayman Travel, the unquestionable highlight of my trip. This tour consisted of only four people, including me and the tour guide, which allowed us to build a closer relationship while inhaling the gorgeous Creation of God from both the German and Czech Republic sides. Being able to answer questions about the Bible and talk about the love of Jesus on our ride back to the starting point wins my most grateful memory; if God used that moment to plant the seed of faith in these individuals, my purpose of this journey is fulfilled. I spent the last full day visiting The Celts exhibition, part of the National Museum, the Dancing House, including drinking hot chocolate on the top floor, the Church of St. Cyril and Methodius and its crypt, and the Infant Jesus of Prague and then shopping.

American Airlines’ randomly and without a legitimate reason canceling my first flight from Prague to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, only hours before scheduled departure spiraled into the most frustrating and inconvenient flying experience I have ever dealt with, forcing me to argue with perhaps the rudest ticketing agent I have encountered, toss out some of my valuables, miss one flight and be stuck in Chicago, Illinois, overnight, miss church, and contact tens of agents of multiple airlines to retrieve my bag they lost. Nevertheless, I would rather focus on the positive. I was pleasantly surprised to realize I have set foot in nineteen countries since the summer of 2013, and I patiently wait in excitement to see God’s purpose of showing me so much of the world. I thank Jesus for allowing me another one of these indelible journeys and safely bringing me back home.