The slow run

“Luck is when preparation meets opportunity.” I got lucky. In the spring of 2016, a dear friend asked on our messenger group if anybody wanted to participate in the Bucharest Half-Marathon in May that year. He wasn’t a runner; he had never run more than a few kilometers. But he had a free registration from his job, the event looked interesting, so maybe he would do it if others joined.

I saw that message, and it got me thinking. Me, running? Hmmm…. I do not run. I google what a half-marathon is. 21 kilometers, the f**k! Running 3 km is a struggle. My past comes swirling in. I was the worst runner in my class, from 1st grade to the last. I was the last to finish any endurance race – if I even finished them at all, sometimes I just gave up at some point. So what gives? Back then, I was well on my fitness journey. I have been hitting the gym 5 times a week for the last couple of months. I was in better shape than ever in my life. I was even running on the treadmill as a warm-up for my leg day, doing HIIT training, and I had trimmed a lot of weight.

It gets interesting. I feel myself getting excited at the prospect of running so many kilometers. It felt like a payback for my childhood years when I was overweight and did not put in the effort to improve. Should I do this? It could be fun; I’m also not doing it alone; I’m in good shape. I signed up. There were just a bit more than 2 months till the race.

I started reading about how to prepare for a half-marathon. I bought myself some cheap running shoes, and I started training. My first goal: run a 10k. I did that on the treadmill at the gym. I was soaking wet, sipping water constantly, eating some bananas during walking breaks, and seeing the meter go up. I did it, checked, my first ever 10k. It was a really slow run, but the pace didn’t matter. It felt empowering, like a grand achievement, it gave me confidence, and I was hooked.

I posted my run on social media – that’s how happy I was. People told me running on the road is different; that on the treadmill, it’s easier on the legs. I scheduled my first outdoor runs. That’s how I discovered Herastrau Park with its massive 7km loop. I first did one lap; a few weeks later, I did two laps, and in my longest training run, I did three, totaling 21km. I ran my first half-marathon before my official HM. Again it felt amazing, minus the stiff legs the days after, but even that painful soreness was sweet. It’s a job well done, you push yourself, and your muscles adapt to the new requirements.

I celebrated my birthday in May by doing my first official HM. I prepped my gear and couldn’t fall asleep the night before – I was so nervous. On the day of the HM, the metro was buzzing with runners, each new station filled with more and more people in shorts and running shirts with numbers. I felt part of something bigger. I met my friend at the start line. We did our warm-up, and the race started. The atmosphere was fantastic, the weather sunny, and friends were cheering for us with placards. We ran together to the finish. There was no doubt we would finish, and we enjoyed the hell out of it. This was the start of something.