I’ll never forget the day that, I pushed through the great wall.

I’ll never forget the day that, I pushed through the great wall.
Annyeong-hashimnikka, or hello, is something I became familiar with in Korea. Before traveling to a country, I familiarize myself with about five terms to assure a peaceful trip. One of those terms was not marathon.
After landing work in the ROK and walking by floods of marathon advertisements, it felt like the perfect time to complete a full marathon. Little did I know, not speaking the language was about to spawn challenging communication mishaps, greater than my legs were prepared for. In the spirit of training I signed up for the Korea Adventure Night Race. Somewhere between miss translations, not fully converting miles to kilometers and thinking a “race” would be easier than a “marathon” – I decided it was a great place to start.
About a week before the race realized I had signed up for a FULL MARATHON! Not one of my brightest decisions, but it had originally been advertised as a walk so I decided it would be thrilling to see how far I could run. I met some members of a local running club at the start and made it my mission to stick with them, for at least the first half of the race. Slowly, I began to drift behind. No matter how hard I tried to push my legs forward at kilometer 25 all I could see was the shadow of my last contact’s pigtails. The time had come where I had to push through my own wall. The next four kilometers were the hardest. I could not feel my feet, hands, knees, or face, never mind the ground I was crawling on. I passed alongside a rail for a kilometer stretch, gripping the bars and thrusting my body forward with my arms. Realizing how pathetic I looked, I opted to walk. Finally, my feet were so swollen I had to stop to loosen my sneakers. I ate the last tangerine in my backpack. The small boost of energy helped push me through the great wall. I had escaped no-man’s land and began running, with 10k left. Feeling physically weak and mentally powerful I continued to increase the voice in my head, “YOU ARE A MARATHON RUNNER…” It was booming over my headphones. As I saw the last 5k sign I felt a fire light inside. I wiggled my toes and put the rest of what I had left into finding a steady momentum. Then, I gained speed passing the 2k sign and again just before crossing the finish. After coming to a stop, I smiled. The great wall was obsolete.