With my mother scheduled to visit me on the Fourth of July for two-and-a-half weeks from Korea and not having raced in May, I planned to participate in a major one in June that could justify my taking some time off running and, for a second consecutive year, registered for the Night Train 50K, taking place on the final Saturday of the month and starting at Camp Paradise in Virginia.

The race commenced at 90 degrees. Albeit I felt strong, perhaps burned out from racing too frequently, I had to fight my mind to motivate and excite myself while shutting up the question why I am doing this throughout the first couple of miles. Then nearing the first aid station around 5.5 miles in, out of nowhere, I felt an immediate sign of fatigue, which perplexed me and worried me on how I was supposed to recover sufficiently to carry on for another nearly 27 miles. One runner I shared this with laughed, but I would not be surprised if my wearing a hat had an impact, as I had not been accustomed to this and could feel the blood in my head pumping rapidly when I removed the hat. The more sensible explanation would be the 95-degree heat index. I continued to put one foot in front of the other no matter how slowly and thankfully got a second wind around 11 miles in. I often mixed running and walking, although I did the latter much more than I hoped to, and did not spend much time at any aid station to make up for this. Oddly, I was glad to experience this unanticipated adversity, which required me to overcome a new challenge, having to adjust so early on in such a long race. Seeing numerous runners behind me, I knew the heat affected every participant. Toward the end, I reflected on some of my recent ultramarathons and was puzzled why I chose most in extreme heat when my body does not react to heat anywhere near as efficiently as the cold, with my ideal racing temperature being 30-40 degrees. (I even have a skin condition that stems from my body producing too much heat.) Just behind the High Bridge, I began to sprint and pass numerous runners, not realizing I was farther away from the finish than I imagined, creating a semi-serious stomach cramp. I finished the 32-miler, 32.46 according to my COROS PACE 2, with an official time of 7:37:53, embarrassing result but nevertheless grateful to be humbled and to Jesus for giving me such an exclusive hobby that allows me to experience metaphorically every stage and lesson of life. This marks my tenth ultramarathon completion; I think I can now justify taking some time off.

I, almost out of desperation, participated in the Neuse River Bridge Run Half Marathon on April 9, 2022, in New Bern, North Carolina, refusing to sit on my calamitous “half marathon” in Greenville from two weeks prior. As the name suggests, the event took the runners through the Neuse River Bridge for the first several miles, which offered both a breathtaking sight and lengthy moderate hills. Perhaps with the course commencing with hills to which I started oblivious, the constant powerful headwind, or my body not having fully recovered from the recent inadvertent 16-miler, I moved surprisingly slowly and could not find my ideal pace, although I felt as strong as I normally do. Furthermore, not knowing whether to stay to the right or to the left of these never-ending cones, I, thanks to my OCD and unlike pretty much every other runner, in most cases chose to go the lengthier route for turns, even when no cone was present, which certainly cost me some seconds and likely perplexed those behind me.

Albeit a few minutes off my target pace, I find satisfaction in another comfortable sub-2:00:00, with the official time of 1:59:00.62, especially considering my COROS PACE 2 read 13.30 miles, which understandably made me miscalculate my pace slightly. More importantly, I have just completed my 50th half marathon, so I would be an ungrateful fool to be upset, as I acknowledge I cannot do any of this without God’s grace and help.

From this angle, I was supposed to continue left and not go in.

My biggest nightmare in racing materialized at the Live Well Half Marathon that took place on March 26, 2022, in Greenville, North Carolina. Observing the course map with countless turns, I worried, based on the small field, I would be running a large portion alone and become confused in certain sections. When I entered a stadium of some sort with no sign or marking for a long stretch and tens and tens of cars lined up, filling up the space, I did not know if I made a wrong turn. Somehow I found my way around the maze, and 9 or 10 miles in, I had to run through traffic with no police officer or official and send an exaggerated motion to the drivers to not run me over. With just over two miles to go, still on pace to easily come in 1:55 and potentially 1:54 and full of energy, I saw a sign with a straight arrow but tilted and pointing toward the right, which I interpreted as turn right. There was another turn that followed, followed by another and another, but I knew I had already completed this section prior. I screamed, asking for help, with no volunteer, race official, or runner anywhere near. I had no choice but to keep going, and I even took out my phone and opened the Waze app to determine how I would return and tried calling the race to no avail. I continued redoing the section I had already completed, and when I frequently asked strangers if they had seen runners, one group pointed me farther back, where I ultimately ran into a half-marathon participant I recognized. I knew where I had landed, again, and turned around and kept going the way I went originally. When I came back to that vague sign, I ran straight this time and saw the mile 11 sign, which told me I was not supposed to take that right turn. I no longer had the desire to push hard and naturally slowed down in the additional miles, crossing the finish line in 2:23:30.31, with my new COROS PACE 2 reading 15.95 miles, which likely means over 16 miles based on the previous mileage signs.

If I had not been having such a fine run, I would not have been as upset, but I pushed my way through to nearly the end just to be misled by one sign that required me to do an additional 5K. My 49th half marathon and 82nd race, this course must have been the most poorly organized and frustrating. I have gotten lost in races previously, but never have I ever had to complete another 5K in just a 13.1-mile run. I relayed my concerns to the race director, who remained cordial and appreciated my feedback. I may have to squeeze in another race next weekend just to wipe this bitter taste off my mouth. The only consolation would be that I found my way back and was able to complete the entire original course, as I thought at one point I would have to quit because I did not know where I was going. For the rest of my amateur running career, I may no longer register for a tiny local running event in which the course has an inexplicable number of turns, as I am frankly sick and tired of having to make not getting lost my main focus rather than running to the best of my ability.

As the end of February drew near and not yet having raced this month, I, almost out of desperation, registered for the 2022 Ellerbe Half Marathon, taking place on the last Saturday of the month in the eponymous city of North Carolina. Observing its daunting elevation chart prior, I hesitated initially, but I had no other option. The Tuesday of the same week, I went out for an easy run of just over four miles, and my legs almost unprecedentedly from the beginning felt fatigued and shins and calves burned and would not recover. I had already signed up for this event, so I took the remaining days meticulously stretching and massaging my legs with a muscle-roller stick, praying, and hoping that the pain would not reappear on race day.

Not knowing the state of my legs, I started the race slightly nervous. I thought I felt a similar pain the first couple of miles, but thankfully, this discomfort subsided in the following mile. The course, 13.32 miles with 758 feet of elevation gain according to my Garmin, consisted of repeated hills of up and down, which I do not mind generally, but the first half included more downhill running and the second half felt to be nonstop climbing, perfect recipe for slowing down drastically the second half after a decent first half, exactly what happened. The fierce headwind the final few miles certainly did not help. My focus shifted from a sub-two-hour finish to simply running the whole way without a walking break, which I managed without much adversity. I crossed the finish line with a gun time of 2:06:06, relieved and grateful to God that my legs did not present a problem because I worried perhaps I carried minor shin splints or another form of overuse injury. I understood my result would be less than ideal here, so I basically considered this as a solid training run.

PC: Dawn Lisenby

I imagined concluding 2021 in Korea with family and close ones I have not seen in nearly two years, so when this much-anticipated trip was abruptly canceled due to the new Omicron variant that convinced the country to implement a 10-day quarantine, I sought a major event so that I did not feel I wasted the holidays. The 7 Hour New Year Ultra Celebration, hosted by East Coast Trail Racing in Flagler Beach, Florida, caught my eye, and I registered to be on the waiting list. Once the race director approved in the evening of three days prior, I took a few hours to confirm solely because I would be driving from Raleigh, North Carolina, down to Palm Coast, Florida, the day before and coming back up immediately following the race, 1,080.8 miles in total.

Finishing up! PC: Dawn Lisenby

The event location unseasonably welcomed suffocating humidity and sunny heat that must have rested at 85 degrees, so I approached my run conservatively. A large portion of this deceptively challenging 0.78-mile course took place in a forested area with constant tangents, roots, and minor hills. From an early part of the race, I realistically lowered my standard significantly to simply comfortably surpassing the marathon distance. An hour and a half in, I felt pain shooting up my right foot, and I could not tell whether a cramp or injury caused this; I repeatedly stretched while continuing to move and prayed, and soon the pain fled and never returned. About an hour to go, the timing official informed me I sat at men’s fourth place but that he believes I could catch the third, but his not letting me know who specifically made me, to err on the side of caution, pass as many as my remaining energy permitted. I did not want any regrets I did not give my all, so I began running a lot more, and for my second-to-last loop, when I identified my competition, I took off and recorded one of my faster laps, allowing me enough time to attempt to and successfully squeeze in one more even more quickly, which nauseated me during and a while after. My rival commented he decided to end his race when he heard I headed for another loop and knew he could not catch me. I completed my 37th loop with just over three minutes to spare, finishing officially at 28.86 miles, while my Garmin reads 29.35 miles, and 3rd male and 4th among both men and women. This also became my longest race for which I did not listen to music.

PC: Dawn Lisenby

What better way to kick off a new year? I thank Jesus for being with me every step of the way, as I acknowledge apart from Him I can do nothing. I also want to give a shout-out to the encouraging and cordial race director for letting me in last-minute, as this event helped distract me from feeling lonely and depressed during New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. Happy 2022!

Seeing how close to my home the Raleigh (Holiday) Half Marathon, this year’s USATF and RRCA State Championship, took place on December 4, 2021, and I would not have to drive for hours as I do for most races, I could not justify opting out and registered only a couple of days prior to the event. Until recently, its course formed a combination of several routes I take when casually running; thus, without the course change last year, I likely would have skipped. I would have preferred colder, but the morning still felt semi-ideal for a 13.1-miler.

PC: J. Cutt Photography

PC: J. Cutt Photography

Their first half marathon! Jessica got that cute cup for being a top 75 woman. 🙂

I kept my pace consistent and pushed harder whenever I saw my Garmin pace slow down, often catching me off guard because I felt no sign of fatigue. I had forgotten about the short but steep climb that awaited a mile and a half to go, and I adamantly ran the whole section and exerted a significant amount of energy, which impacted the rest of my race; in hindsight, I may have walked this hill. Several runners and I often swapped places, and I continued to encourage them to keep moving and oddly even hoped they would pass me, which rarely happens towards the end of my race because I generally sprint and myself do the passing. Three different participants told me post-race I helped them, indirectly saying they used me as a pacer, which was flattering. I expected to run faster than a 1:56:11 finish, but I am always grateful to be able to experience so many of these challenging events and meet amazing people along the way.

PC: J. Cutt Photography

As has been my tradition for years, I began Thanksgiving 2021 with a race, albeit with a shorter 10K rather than a typical half marathon due to a lack of options nearby, at the Trophy Trot 10K in my current city of Raleigh, North Carolina. Based on how effortlessly my pace has increased recently with the chillier weather, I targeted an ambitious time goal, not realizing the entire course comprised moderate hills.

Kicking off the run going around and through countless joggers who decided to line up front felt irritating, as I unnecessarily wasted valuable energy and was hindered from speeding up for the first 1/10th of a mile. I should have jogged around prior, as my body warmed up on mile 4, evident by my significant negative split. Generally, in a half marathon or farther, I can afford to take a few miles to warm up, but in a race that lasts only around 50 minutes, I should have been smarter, especially in a 32-degree start. I read in the waiver no musical device was permitted, and, although nobody cares, being the OCD-rule follower I am, I ran without music, which I am accustomed to and frankly enjoy at this point. Just over a mile to go, as I was climbing, a lady on the side cheering the runners on said, “Don’t fight the hill. Embrace it.” Something about this statement touched me, as most challenges we face are all about our attitude and perspective. A quarter of a mile left, I, still feeling 100%, sprinted and passed more people than I could count, finishing the 10K, 6.32 miles with an elevation gain of 404 feet according to my Garmin, in 54:09, minutes slower than my prediction but understandable considering the hills. Still, I had fun, all that matters. Happy Thanksgiving!

Signing up for the Mayberry Half Marathon, set for November 13, 2021, in Mount Airy, North Carolina, felt to be a no-brainer after observing the course map and ideal chilly weather forecast. With a 41-degree start on a mostly flat trail, I wasted no time pushing the pace, understanding I would be working with a brand new engine from the one in previous months in summer heat. Without a timing mat at the start, this event only offered a chip finish time, basically gun time, so I made certain to line up just behind the front runners so that my official time would read as close to my actual time as possible. I locked into a comfortable pace and felt at peace until I saw 2:00 pacers tailgating me for a long stretch before passing me, implying they were running significantly faster than their sign displayed and likely messed up many runners’ attempt to barely achieve a sub-two-hour goal by staying in proximity with them. I passed the pacers around mile 7, when my body began to feel stronger and I believed I could hold my pace until the end without an issue.

I hoped I could have used the bathroom prior to the race, as my stomach felt uneasy the entire way; consequently, I barely utilized any aid station for fluid to avoid upsetting the body even more, so when I tried to grab a water from a volunteer with just over a mile to go to sufficiently refresh me to finish strong and she inadvertently pulled the cup as I reached, making me miss it, I rightly became extra irritated, even though I should not have complained, “Come on!” I crossed the finish with an official time of 1:53:59.2, content as I had not run this kind of time in months, thanks to the heat and humidity. I hope this result could be an indication of my performances to come in the upcoming months in chillier weather.

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.