First Person: Running against myself
I didn’t start running because I loved it. On the contrary, I hated how hard it was. But on a cold September morning in Ottawa, I found myself at the start line of my first half-marathon, chasing the version of myself I wanted to become.
On Sept. 21, 2024, I ran my first official half-marathon and by the end of the race, I felt weak. I trained for months to get where I was and I was ashamed of my performance that day. Running is physically hard, but for me, the real challenge is mental.
Every step is a decision that I have to continuously make and argue with myself about stopping or slowing down. On that day, I lost the argument. I slowed down and stopped so many times that the distance itself did not feel like an accomplishment. But I am learning to accept that it was.
When I started running, I was only doing it because the version of myself I’m aiming to be is doing it. I’ve always looked like I was in great shape. I have solid muscle definition from years of gym training since I was 17 and from playing sports for many years. But looks don’t translate to endurance. I was ready to scratch a half-marathon off my bucket list.
Since I was 17, every year I wrote down that I wanted to run a marathon. But it always felt out of reach. This year, I decided to take it seriously. I signed up for the Army Run’s Commander Challenge: a 5K followed by a half-marathon, with only an hour’s break in between. My friend Michel Akpro, an Algonquin College alumni and ex-track runner, agreed to do it with me. We made it a competition: racing the 5K and running the half-marathon together.
I loved running with Akpro because he was better than me. It was like chasing something I thought was unattainable, which kept me motivated.
In June 2024, I met Farah Fino at my local gym. Fino is a veteran runner with many marathons under his shoes. He loves running so much that he introduced me to his routine so I could train with him. After training with him once a week, my 5K time dropped from 27 minutes to 22:51. Fino, at 44, runs a sub-18-minute 5K, which would have felt impossible to my past self. What blew me away was when his wife gave birth in August, despite being up all night with their newborn, he still ran a sub-18-minute 5K on Thursday.
In my case, a month before the race, I got sick after hitting my best 5K time. For three weeks, the most I could run was 200 metres, and even that didn’t feel easy. One day, I forced myself out of the house despite feeling terrible, telling myself I could handle a short run. But 100 metres in, I felt like I might pass out. I could barely walk, and I thought, If I pass out here, who’s going to find me?
Race day came, and I was ready but not fully recovered. I raced the 5K with everything I had, but Akpro still beat me by 18 seconds. I finished at 23:58, just under a minute slower than my best time. Then, the half-marathon started, and I could feel the toll from the 5K. I told my friend to go ahead without me because I didn’t feel strong enough to keep up.
I finished the half-marathon in 2:34, much slower than my training runs. I crossed the finish line but felt empty. All the hard work felt like it hadn’t paid off. So, I told myself I would do it again on my birthday.
When I told Fino how I felt about my time, he said, “You’re always faster than the version of you who didn’t start.” It sounds corny, I know. He took it from a book, but lately, whenever I go for a run, I repeat those words to myself.
For my 21st birthday, I decided to run a 21K to mark 21 years. This time, I finished in 2:08. I was proud of my improvement, but a part of me still wanted more. Running taught me that it’s not always about the outcome. It’s about pushing through the mental challenges, the self-doubt, and, no matter what, not stopping.
Next year, I’m doing the Army Run again, aiming for a sub-20-minute 5K. Every race, every run, is part of my journey. It’s a reminder that I’m not just chasing a finish line. I’m chasing the person I want to become.
