I ran a half-marathon!

It’s race day.

We’ve been looking forward to this day — and dreading it — all year. For the first time in almost ten years, I ran a half marathon today.

With preparation that could hardly have been worse. I was sick several times, often for extended periods, and during the 12-week training plan I completed only 18 workouts and ran a total of 112 kilometers — far less than the plan had called for (12 weeks × 3 sessions = 36 workouts).

The weather is better than expected. After rain in the days before and after, we got a bit of sunshine today. When I walk to the train in the morning, it’s a crisp 8°C. We spend a long time deciding what to wear and eventually settle on shorts and a long-sleeve shirt. A good choice. It warms up quickly during the race. In the sun it’s almost too warm, while the shaded sections stay cool.

M and I start together from the second starting block. There are so many people that, even though we arrived at the venue 45 minutes before the start, we only reach the starting area when the gun goes off.

We follow the crowd and begin at a 5:45 pace. The course rolls gently up and down, the atmosphere is great. Feels good.

After 5 km, we split up. M wants to finish in under two hours, and at that point I don’t see that happening for me. I’d rather slow down a little to make sure I can hold the pace for the full distance. M accelerates — and shortly after, I lose sight of him.

I ease off slightly and settle into the flow. At kilometer 7, I check my watch and see that I’ve been running for exactly 40 minutes. In my head, I do the math: 7 km in 40 minutes … 21 km in two hours. I think to myself: if I can just hold this pace and maybe push a little at the end, I might actually break two hours as well. That had been my goal too, but with the poor preparation, it hadn’t seemed realistic.

Over the following kilometers, it becomes clear that running is my sport. I’m able to maintain the pace, even chat a little with other runners along the way, and I learn that a 5:41 pace is enough to finish under two hours. We reach kilometer 12 and my watch shows 5:40. I start to feel optimistic.

Just like ten years ago, the final six kilometers are no fun at all. My strength is gone, my legs feel heavy, my motivation starts fading. Somehow, I still manage to get a little faster (my watch now shows 5:39) — I just want it to be over.

Three kilometers before the finish, I catch up with M again. We’re both completely surprised. And somehow, that gives me the strength not to let up. At 01:59:47, I cross the finish line. Done. 🏃