4- Half Marathon

I started to find myself getting more into the sport, and I’ve really started to love it. Contrary to what I used to think as a child—that this sport was meaningless because running has no specific goal, unlike soccer or basketball, for example, where you aim to score a goal that enables your team to win—I’ve found it to be a lot of fun, especially when participating in races. So I decided to participate in Race Marathon of Amman, which takes place in the downtown area every October and is organized by Jordan Marathon Association...but I decided to take my time before deciding on the distance I’ll run, since I still have about five or six months to train properly so that I might be able to participate in the half marathon.

Going for a run every Friday morning has become a must, and I've started trying as much as I can to Run During the week, I ran at least five kilometers to improve my performance and build my endurance, Of course, these were solo attempts without a coach or a training plan. To ensure I’d stick with the sport, I signed up early for the Amman Marathon—and yes, I signed up for the 21-kilometer half marathon.

By signing up, I committed myself to continuing my training, especially on weekdays, and I noticed a change in my physique—I actually lost several kilograms by running consistently, which had a positive effect on my ability to stick with it. The days passed, and the race was drawing near.

On race day, I woke up at 4:00 a.m.—the race was set to start at 6:00 a.m. sharp. I left the house at 5:00 a.m., feeling nervous, and drove to the race venue. I had to park about one kilometer away from the starting line, and I had to run to make it on time, since we were required to be at the starting line half an hour before the start. I jogged at times and walked quickly at others, torn between not wanting to tire out my legs and making it to the race on time, until I finally arrived just in time.

Just like the Dead Sea race, the atmosphere was fantastic. Dozens of runners were warming up in preparation for the race, which was set to start in less than half an hour. The sky was still largely dark, as the sun hadn’t risen yet that day. I warmed up and joined the runners at the starting line, Adrenaline coursed through my veins; I felt fear, excitement, and joy all at once. In just a few minutes, the race began.

I ran the first twenty kilometers well and at a much faster pace than I had expected before the race, but the last kilometer was painful and harder than all the previous ones. I felt extremely exhausted and almost fell flat on my face from sheer fatigue. I slowed down a bit in the hope that I could finish the race, and after a great deal of effort, I finished the race in one hour and fifty-two minutes—a very good time for a novice runner competing in his first half-marathon at the age of forty-four. Of course, I received a finisher’s medal for crossing the finish line, and then I went with the group to have breakfast at a restaurant, which I desperately needed.

Read also the story of First Race