It all started with a seven-mile run in slippers.
My first running exercise began in 2015. Before that, I was a crazy weight-lifting guy in the gym. But my body weight went over 200lbs. My doctor told me I must lose weight if I wanted to keep my knees. I started to run on the treadmill. But I never took running seriously.
2017. My employer went bankrupt. Two months later, my wife was diagnosed with terminal cancer. In the depths of despair, I found myself craving for running. I quit the gym and hit the local public stadium. I buried my head into the white tracks under my feet, ran, and ran, and ran. I wanted to leave everything behind. In the beginning I tried to run for 10km or 6 miles. I ran for 10 kilometers or 6 miles in the beginning. Two months later I completed my first half-marathon, 21km or 13.2 miles. I finished up in 2 hours and 10 minutes. Not bad for a beginner.
In September 2017, my family moved to Baltimore U.S. for my wife’s treatment. Between my wife’s doctor appointments, I had plenty of time on my hands. Besides, I don’t know why, my body’s depression fueled my desire for running. I went to run around a local lake. I often lost myself in the rhythm of my feet hitting trails circling the lake. I didn’t want to stop until my knees almost collapsed. One day, I set a goal to complete a half-marathon within two hours. I finished it in 2 hours and 2 minutes. Wow~ so close. I was happy and sad at the same time.
Soon after that, my family relocated to Southern California. The hot weather here put out my desire for running, Then the pandemic hit. The whole world fell into a survival mode. For me, running became history. In 2023, I lost two loved ones. I lost my wife to cancer in July. Two months later, my son left home for college.
I don’t know why, but whenever depression rises in my body, so does my desire for running. One day, I was walking at the local park. I was wearing a pair of slippers with flimsy laces. Suddenly a panic hit me. I started to run. I ran faster and faster. I couldn’t stop. My feet kept slipping out of the slippers. I just kept running. I ran one round around the park, then two rounds, then three. I ended up running seven miles in slippers. I felt great. Back home, I dug out my old running shoes and started running. A few weeks later, I ran for 10 miles and killed it.
I started to try on half-Marathon again, after seven years. My first two attempts failed. I felt my energy was Okay, but my knees wanted to quit. And there were leg cramps and mental fatigue. But I kept running. Finally in April, I finished my first half-marathon in seven years. 2 hours and 18 minutes. I felt great. I thought breaking the two-hour mark for half-marathon was long gone in my life. That day the dream felt closer than ever.
One week later, I tried it again. Failed. A few weeks later, I tried again. I finished it at 3 hours and 12 minutes. I suffered from massive body cramps. In early June I finished the last half-marathon before summer time. It was 2 hours and 40mins.
So this is my journey of half-marathon run. I will continue the journey after the summer break. What I’ve learned from this journey? For those of us who are way over our physical strength, half-marathon isn’t an exercise. It’s a mental game. A therapy for grief and depression. It’s to tell the world that I am still here, alive and kicking. We may face some dark moments in our lives. There is one way out. Do you know what it is? Put your running shoes on, get out, run, and run, and run.
Don’t look back. Don’t stop.
