The spring breeze in March 2025 is light, and the gentle sunshine of Arbor Day accompanies my every breath. It was my routine pre-race 15km horse self-test. From the planned pace of 6 minutes and 10 seconds to the final pace of 5 minutes and 56 seconds, every step seemed to tell me that my limits were quietly changing.

On the day of the competition, I already felt a premonition of inner turmoil, and I was both nervous and looking forward to it. A week before the race, I ran 10 kilometers with my classmates from the Tsinghua Horse Association, which made me realize that I was not fully in the best condition, and my heart rate once rushed to 190. This forced me to slow down for a while to cool down my body and lower my blood pressure. But just a few minutes before the race, when I saw the slightly higher heart rate number on my watch, I took a deep breath as if to condense all my emotions into a force and return myself to peace.

At the moment of starting, my heart was surging with anxiety and excitement, and I ran towards the unknown track with a slight nervousness and full of anticipation. For the first kilometre, I raced at a whim pace of 5 minutes and 20 seconds, with a heart rate of between 150 and 160. The scenery on the side of the road quickly receded, and the distance between it and the competitors behind it gradually widened. At that time, I suddenly felt that this race was not only a pursuit of speed, but also a conversation about my own rhythm. So, I adjusted my breathing, steadied my pace, and slowly pulled the pace back to between 5:30 and 5:40, as if I was playing a gentle battle with myself.

I was at a pace of 5:40, and from time to time I was reminded of the images I had from the past tests. Every step is as if you are in a dialogue with your heart: you have never been so determined to break through yourself. When I reached the 10km point, I found myself still on track to break my ideal pace of 2 hours. At that moment, my heart swelled with immense joy and gratitude. As the sun climbed, the golden glow filled the runway, and I felt as if I saw the future beckoning ahead.

Just as we were near the middle of the race, the trail started to get rough. At 15 to 16 kilometers, the 500-meter road back and forth allowed me to surpass a young lady I met unexpectedly, intertwined with competition and silent encouragement.

Just 18 kilometers away, when I suddenly felt the sound of rapid breathing coming from behind me, I looked back and saw that there were a lot of people. When I looked closely, the two-hour official rabbit was following closely. At that moment, I suddenly felt a sense of tension and excitement in my heart: this was not just a competition, but a journey with time and self-talk.

In order not to lose this surprise before the finish, I used all my strength to pull the pace back to 5:40. Every step is extraordinarily precious. Despite the fact that the heart rate climbed to 190 in an instant, the body felt more tired than ever. But I know that only by staying the course can I write this run into my life. Eventually, in the last three kilometers, I turned around to identify the 200 rabbits behind me while donning the 'Pain Mask' and sprinting forward.

The finish line was in sight, and I saw the finish sign of the Hengqin Marathon flashing in a golden halo. At that moment, the heartbeat raced and the scenery, sweat, and perseverance in all the races were integrated. The moment I crossed the line, the audience's enthusiastic cheers rang in my ears, and the moment that crossed time and space was frozen in front of my eyes. On my chronograph board, the time of 1 hour, 59 minutes and 27 seconds seems to tell me that all the hard work has been in vain and that every journey is worth remembering.

Looking back at the whole race, from the quiet morning run during the test to the passionate struggle on the field, every experience is like a silent prose, recording my conversation with the track. Since last September, I've been running about 100 kilometres a month with aerobic running, and it's this perseverance that has led me to improve my half-marathon time from 236 to 159, a full 37 minutes. Two weeks before the race, I deliberately kept my heart rate above 160 to get used to the high load of the race. That perseverance and perseverance were finally best interpreted in the Hengqin Marathon.

Looking back on the whole race, every scenery on the road seems to tell its unique story: the green trees in the morning mist, the blue sky reflected in the stream, and the unexpected flowers blooming around the corner...... These beautiful details seem to have become a flowing picture scroll in my heart, not only witnessing my running, but also witnessing my love for life and the pursuit of my dreams.

Now, reminiscing about the excitement of the moment when I crossed the finish line, I am filled with infinite reverie for the future. The next summer training will still be aerobics-based, but my goal has quietly changed - this year, I not only want to break 2, but also want to move towards the annual goal of Volkswagen 2.

Contributors

Ph.D. student in Computer Science and Technology, Tsinghua University

Amateur runners