The Hanma Marathon was my fifth full marathon in the past month. I finished in 3 hours, 11 minutes, and 39 seconds, which is 1 minute and 42 seconds faster than my time at the Seoul Marathon of 3 hours, 13 minutes, and 21 seconds. This is my best performance to date, but also the most challenging personal best (PB) I've achieved.

Five full marathons in five weeks have left my body extremely fatigued. This is probably the worst physical condition I've been in since I started running.

After returning from the Heze Marathon, my body began to protest. I felt drowsy and lethargic for an entire week. Normally, I could revise a script in a day, but from April 8th to April 12th, I only managed to revise one episode. I procrastinated until the night I had to leave for Beijing before finally submitting my work.

We had booked a soft sleeper, thinking we could get a good night's sleep. However, the accumulated fatigue from long-term overexertion hit me like a flood, wreaking havoc on every inch of my body. The feeling of being too tired to sleep was absolutely terrible.

When we arrived in Wuhan, it was a full day of checking into the hotel, taking photos, picking up race materials, and changing hotels. Normally, I would devour my favorite foods like a wolf, but during the dinner gathering on the 13th, I had no appetite for the delicious spread of crayfish, stinky tofu, Indian flatbread, and cold noodles. All I could think about was getting back to the hotel and sleeping.

The hotel room had a double bed, and I shared it with Jerry. To avoid disturbing my sleep, he turned off the main light and left only the bedside lamp on. He needn't have worried; I was so exhausted that I didn't even shower or brush my teeth. I fell asleep immediately.

When I woke up, Jerry was not in the bed. I suddenly felt disoriented, staring at the unfamiliar sofa, bed, and furnishings. I couldn't remember where I was for over two minutes. All I remembered was falling asleep with Jerry the night before.

"Uncle," I called out loudly.

"Hey,"

Jerry's voice came from the bathroom, snapping me back to reality. I remembered I was in Wuhan for the marathon. However, I still felt so tired that I didn't want to get out of bed until the hotel's wake-up call forced me to get up, wash, dress, and prepare my race gear.

Tired, no appetite.

Four pieces of bread, a bottle of mineral water, and two eggs that Jerry brought me were all I ate on race day morning. It wasn't much, but I felt full. The fullness was an illusion because I had no appetite, and my stomach wasn't very active. Just a little food made me feel full.

Even before the start, I felt a strong aversion to running. My body reacted to my mood with a need to use the bathroom, nausea, dizziness, and various other discomforts. I didn't want to go to the race site and even considered withdrawing. But the entry was hard to come by, and I was already in Wuhan. Backing out would be both shameful and disgraceful.

To alleviate my aversion to running, I started joking around with Chen Zhong. I came up with all sorts of excuses like sore calves, aching knees, and a headache, but nothing piqued my interest. It wasn't until I got off the shuttle bus and saw the full and half marathon signs and took some photos with other runners that my negative emotions started to subside.

Standing among the runners, listening to them talk about pacing, slopes, and PBs, I felt irritated. My mind was preoccupied with whether I could finish the race safely and persist to the end. My heart rate soared from 67 to 160, and a minute before the start, I got cold feet.

The agonizing 60 seconds finally ended with the gunshot, but the next 42.195 kilometers were even more grueling. As I crossed the starting line, my aversion to running eased a bit, but the fatigue in my body surged with every step, making each stride increasingly difficult.

I finally completed the first three kilometers. My legs gradually adapted to my pace and rhythm, and my calf and thigh muscles began to relax.

"Sun Yunfei, Sun Yunfei, Sun Yunfei," Kong called out from about fifty meters behind me.

I had no energy to respond and watched as he ran past me, shouting "Make way, make way" as he disappeared into the crowd. I still couldn't pick up my pace or ignite any passion. At that time, my pace was around 4:30 per kilometer. All I could think about was finishing the race, knowing that at this rate, I would likely hit a wall in the second half.

Around the four-kilometer mark, I encountered Chen Zhong. He kindly advised me to slow down, but he himself sprinted ahead, and soon I lost sight of him. I wanted to slow down, but I didn't dare. At that point, slowing down would mean either quitting the race or walking the rest of the way. I didn't want to repeat the mistakes of the Wuxi and Chongqing Marathons.

For the first and second five kilometers, my pace didn't drop, maintaining an average of around 4:26 per kilometer. However, my rhythm was chaotic, with varying stride lengths of 1.5 meters, 1.3 meters, and 1.1 meters. My heart rate soared to the 186-190 range, far above my usual marathon average of 176.

It wasn't until the 15-kilometer mark that I finally found my rhythm and adjusted my heart rate. My condition began to improve, and I felt much more comfortable. At the 16-kilometer mark, I met Qiang Ge, who told me that Chen Zhong was just a few dozen meters ahead. But I didn't dare to chase him, fearing that my newly adjusted rhythm and heart rate would collapse again. If that happened, I would have to abandon the race. I wasn't crazy; I didn't want to ruin myself in this race.

At the first turnaround point, I saw Chen Zhong and Kong ahead of me, about a hundred meters away. Chen Zhong shouted, "Hurry up and catch up!"

At that moment, he was in good condition, and my condition had finally stabilized. My heart rate dropped to around 176-180, and my stride length was about 1.2 meters. The overall rhythm felt more comfortable. I felt reassured, knowing I could afford to speed up a bit.

With a better mindset, my body's response gradually normalized. I began to increase my pace, determined to break 3:10. At the 18-kilometer uphill section, my pace increased to around 4:08. I successfully overtook Chen Zhong, ran to the top of the hill, and sprinted towards the second turnaround point.

After the turnaround, I saw Chen Zhong and Kong again within a hundred meters. Their presence put pressure on me. Deep down, I didn't want them to overtake me again. At that time, my average pace was 4:26. If they overtook me, I would have to say goodbye to breaking 3:10.

I was overconfident and forgot about my poor physical condition. I couldn't maintain the 4:26 pace for long before my body started to react. Hunger, thirst, fatigue, cold, and even a light drizzle and wind added to my misery.

A tube of energy gel didn't help at all and even choked me. I had to find a water station along the way. Finally, at the second water station, I managed to swallow the energy gel completely. By then, I had entered East Lake. The crosswind rippled the lake water, hitting my exhausted body and making me feel cold. Goosebumps covered my skin, and every step felt like a struggle.

Starting from the first small bridge at East Lake, my pace began to drop drastically. The original 4:2X pace fell to 4:3X and even 4:4X. Normally, I don't slow down in the second half of a marathon and can even speed up, but this time I was helpless. I could only watch my average pace drop from 4:26 to 4:27, 4:28, and 4:29. My condition was at its worst.

Even more despairing, I felt hungry again and had to look for bananas and oranges along the way. But half a banana and two orange slices could only sustain me for two kilometers. Within ten minutes, I was starving again.

I finally struggled out of East Lake. Without the crosswind, my vest, which had been clinging to my skin, felt much more comfortable. At that time, my average pace was 4:30. I still dreamed of breaking 3:10, thinking that if I sped up, it might still be possible.

But wishful thinking aside, my legs wouldn't cooperate. No matter how I adjusted, I couldn't increase my pace and even experienced more severe slowdowns. My average pace dropped to 4:31, and my per-kilometer pace became 4:5X. Breaking 3:10 was out of the question. At the 40-kilometer turnaround point, my watch showed 3 hours, 1 minute, and 8 seconds. With two kilometers left, even if my pace dropped further, I could still finish better than my Seoul time. I gave up on breaking 3:10.

Changing my goal made running much easier. At the last turnaround point, I met Qiang Ge again. I took several photos in various poses and drank half a cup of water at the nearby aid station before running towards the finish line.

When I crossed the finish line, I looked up at the archway clock: 3 hours, 12 minutes, and 29 seconds. I had achieved a new personal best. I took out my phone and saw a message from Zhihua Anfang: my net time was 3 hours, 11 minutes, and 39 seconds, 1 minute and 42 seconds faster than my Seoul time.

I finally achieved my best time in a domestic marathon, no longer having to hear that my 3:13 in Seoul was nothing special because of the downhill course. I just want to say that I achieved a PB in Wuhan, and it will be recognized domestically. I shouldn't have to be in the C or D group anymore.

There are regrets about not breaking 3:10, but I'm very happy to have achieved a PB! The Hanma Marathon helped me grow and made me realize that a good mindset is the key to success.

Thank you, Hanma Marathon, thank you, Meituan, thank you, Midea, and thank you to everyone who has helped me.

Midea's windless sensation, but we have warmth!