James Hsu

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I ran my first marathon last Sunday. It was damn hard.

Why even TRY to run a marathon?

Let’s start with what happened and work backwards.

I “ran” 42.195 kilometers — or 26 miles and 385 yards, if you happen to be American.

First 21 km: 2 hours 16 minutes.

Last 21 km: 3 hours 20 minutes.

What kind of time split is this?

See, I hit the wall HARD. I hit the wall so hard at the 33 km mark that I had to walk the last 9 km of the marathon.

Walking sucked. Walking meant 90 minutes of mental agony to traverse 9 km, armed with nothing but my own thoughts. I had no energy to fend off the cheering bystanders, collectively willing me to keep running, but I knew I was done. DONE!

It was frustrating. Humiliating, even, until I remembered that only 0.01% of the Earth’s population had ever completed a marathon. (I’m a glass half-full kind of guy.)

Mostly, it was a humbling experience. The marathon humbled my unprepared ass.

See, I had been training with 25 to 30 km runs at the top end. Never ventured into 30+ km, let alone 40 km, territory.

My coping mechanism: race-day adrenaline will let me POWER through the last 12 km!

Well, I was dead wrong. Dead-dead-dead wrong. And I died, as a runner, on the route.

My upper body, and cardiovascular system, worked well for the entirety of the race. It was my feet. My feet sent signals up to my brain that they did not want to run anymore.

Finito.

Dead.

To my small credit, my legs didn’t cramp up. I didn’t feel so bad that I had to bail entirely. I learned after the race that of the 6,000 runners who signed up for the full marathon, only 4,000 finished the race. I saw a couple of poor unfortunate souls start WAY ahead of me, only to never finish.

The groups of medical staff and ambulance vehicles standing by, on the sidelines? A sobering reminder that humans aren’t really meant to do these kinds of things. I have never encountered a doctor who didn’t discourage me from running a marathon.

I was glad to have “survived.” To be part of the 2/3 of folks who finished within 6 hours – that’s when they close the gates.

As I write this, four days later, there’s a real fire to train harder — to actually run 35-40 km in training mode — and reward myself with a sub-5-hour marathon finish.

I know that I’ve crossed off one of life’s bucket list items, but there’s more to accomplish. There’s always the next goal. I know that. I know myself.

But I’m mature enough to put things into perspective. I’m at peace with the fact that:

• I completed my first marathon.
• I did not injure myself.
• I went straight back to work the next day, and not into the hospital.

Let’s revisit the fundamental question: WHY run a marathon?

I had to do it. I’ve been running on and off for the better part of a decade. Not fast, mind you — I’m a slow twitch-muscle runner. I’m happy to average a 6.5-minute kilometer; that’s my safe zone. That’s my happy zone.

Having encountered a number of running-related setbacks — in the form of injuries — a few years ago, I’m feeling extremely grateful to have bounced back.

It’s been hot in Shanghai, and running all through the summer — in 31-degrees Celsius heat — had ironically helped me de-stress from everything else that was going on in my life. I averaged ~180km/month in recent months…some career highs.

I enjoy the runs. I cherish the runs. I take nothing for granted.

And I knew, a few months ago, that I was feeling stronger than ever as a runner. Not the fastest I’ve been, but the most durable. 41-year old James enjoyed stronger legs than the James from a half-decade ago. My feet were taking a beating, and I’ve managed. I’ve gotten wiser at listening to my body, knowing when to push, and when to stop pushing.

When I started business school two years ago, I had signed up for a marathon in Xian. Great opportunity and I was also in decent shape then. But I skipped the race, fearing injury right before courses began. Now I had graduated, was working full-time, and wanted to take a chance.

The thought of that missed opportunity weighed on my mind. Heck, I knew I wasn’t going to do super well in this marathon, but I had to take a shot at it.

I felt 99% confident that barring catastrophe, I would will myself to finish.

And yeah, it was humbling. While I’m currently at my personal peak as a runner, it’s still not enough to comfortably run a marathon. And that’s okay. I need to respect the process.

And I’ll certainly be back, heart and body willing. These things are supposed to be tough.

Thanks for reading, and be well. Wherever you are, take care of yourself.

James

I send out a newsletter every once in a while. To get my writing in your mailbox, subscribe to the mailing list. Much obliged.