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My First Marathon
Three weeks before my first marathon, one of my ankles was
injured and this meant not running for two weeks, leaving me only one week to
train. Yet, I was determined to go ahead.
I remember back to my 7th year in school. In my first P.E.
class, the teacher required us to run laps and then hit a softball. My
performance was really terrible. He later informed me that I was "not
athletic".
The idea that I was "not athletic" stuck with me
for years. When I started running in my 30s, I realized running was a battle
against myself, not about competition or whether or not I was athletic. It was
all about the battle against my own body and mind. A test of wills!
The night before my marathon, I dreamt that I couldn't even
find the finish line. I woke up sweating and nervous, but I was ready to prove
something to myself.
Shortly after
crossing the start line, my shoe laces became untied. So I stopped to readjust.
Not the start I wanted!
At mile 3, I passed a sign: "GO FOR IT, RUNNERS!"
By mile 17, I became out of breath and the once injured
ankle hurt badly. Despite the pain, I stayed the course walking a bit and then
running again.
By mile 21, I was starving!
As I approached mile 23, I could see my wife waving a sign.
She is my biggest fan. She never minded the alarm clock sounding at 4 a.m. or
questioned my expenses on running.
I was one of the final runners to finish. But I finished!
And I got a medal. In fact, I got the same medal as the one that the guy who
came in first place had.
Determined to be
myself and move forward, free of shame and worldly labels(世俗标签), I can now call myself a "marathon
winner".