The night before the race, Yvonne and I were texting each other, questioning our sanity, our state of mind which compelled us to sign up for this torture. A half marathon sure sounded fun to our adrenaline-imbued hearts but not our bodies.
Both of us hadn’t trained at all because of our busy schedules, her immersing herself in her honours thesis and me shrouding myself in mind fog. And we had to wake up at the ungodly hours of 2AM to catch the shuttle bus which will take us to the race venue.
LOYAL BIRDS AF.
This time our crazy asses signed up for the HALF MARATHON 21.1KM!!
Of course, thoughts about the impending distance we had to cover were not on our minds. It’s been a while since I’ve seen my YOLO sister and I was really glad to be doing stupid things with her again.
I had spent my meagre sleeping hours prior to the race dreaming about my anxious pursuit after the shuttle bus, which I had missed by a hair due to my inability to awake when the alarm clock rang. The huge turnout of excited runners did give me the much needed boost to my consciousness.
My timing for my first ever half marathon was shit because it was during the OSIM Sundown Marathon 2015. Getting morning birds to fly in the dead of the night don’t work. Not especially if you’ve got me waiting at the start line for 1 hour, yawning my head off.
I was strangely confident that this run will turn out better than that. The hours before dawn are when the stars in the galaxy are all aligned for my energy to be at its highest. This race was certainly better organised than the former too with a rather prompt start and few bottle necks along the way.
And also… running through the misty morning during a sunrise? PURE BLISS.
This half-marathon certainly went better than my first. I was still running past the 18KM mark before my body screamed out at me to stop at 19KM. Past 20KM, I was able to continue jogging at a snail’s pace without the intense agony which seized my entire being and had me dragging my corpse towards the finish line at Sundown.
So… this is how a pair of feet is supposed to look like after a good, satisfying long distance run. Gloriously grotesque. Therapy for your foot fetish perhaps?