Compared to my first run in 2024 Kanazawa Marathon, this run felt like a purer experience — one where all I wanted was to give my absolute best to hit that sub-4 goal.
Woke up at 5 AM, devoured a huge pineapple bun, and finished off the remaining BCAA drink from last night. Despite the short sleep, I felt surprisingly relaxed and energized. After reapplying the KT tapes to my ankle and knee, I rested in bed for another 20 minutes. The moment came finally: I geared up with my running clothes and supplements, then walked to the entrance of Tianhe Sports Center.
The entrance area was buzzing with runners warming up, chatting, and snapping photos, but I just wanted to get in the waiting zone asap. Assigned to the last starting zone (Zone F), my strategy took a hit — the 4-hour pacer was two zones ahead, forcing me to weave through crowds at a faster pace to catch up. With the sun rising and temperatures climbing, it wasn't ideal; our group started with determination.
Every kilometer required focused execution, with mechanical splits pacing my stride. During the grueling stretches, the steady internal monologue was anchored by a recurring prompt from my wrist:
"Pace in range."
I kept running because of my nonsensical and arbitrary goal: sub-4. I first wanted it only because I, by chance, ran a half marathon at 1:59:56 last year. Naively, I thought doubling effort with training would work easily — but Kanazawa proved otherwise (4:50:06). This year, the goal evolved to symbolize my 18 years each in Guangzhou and Hong Kong, for my family and friends.
But this dream crumbled. I did not get the Hong Kong slot. Months later, my grandmother — my world's anchor — passed away. To salvage something, if anything, from the loss, I printed a family photo, taped it to a card, and put it in my pant's pocket. It was enduring the same heat, sweat, and pain with me. I had to bring it to the finish line, to witness me achieving my promise, and that was the only thing I could do in this life.
At 41K, I had spent 3 hours and 52 minutes. I fuzzily calculated that I could make it with sustained effort, though my body demanded everything. Most details were a blur, but I remembered pushing in the last 200 meters towards the finishing line and immediately paused my watch: 3:59:14.
I thought I'd done something. So trivial, and just didn't matter to the world at all. But it was something I could do and I chose to do.
I pulled out the photo, snapped a selfie with it and the finishing line. That ended my 2025 Guangzhou Marathon.