My 2025 Marathon Race Experience in Korea
I. Quiet, Gentle, Slightly Shy – Pyeongjungma
1. The Three Gatekeepers
Just thinking about our three “gatekeepers” – Gomon-nim, Haneul-nim, and our president – already makes me feel secure. These days Pyeongjungma is a club that focuses more on running than on having dinner together, especially with many new members joining. But I’ve heard that back in the glory days of Pyeongjungma, people used to hang out a lot after training, sharing drinks and stories after the run.
They’re not the type to avoid such gatherings, but even so, they only say one thing: “If you have time, let’s grab dinner together.” And they leave it at that – never pushing anyone.
2. A Long Time
Because my wife and I both work, I used to skip the Wednesday evening group run, thinking of her doing all the housework alone. So for about eight months I only joined the Saturday morning sessions. After that summer when we dipped ourselves into the cold stream at Sammaksa Valley, I somehow found myself looking forward to Wednesdays as well.
We had seen each other often before that, but only then did we start to share more personal stories. I think that’s how most Pyeongjungma members are.
At first everyone’s quiet, a little reserved and formal. But as time passes, you slowly realize, “Ah, these are really good people.” They don’t rush into your life, they just let relationships grow naturally.
3. Good People, One by One
Last year’s Goguryeo race was my first marathon, so the memories are very clear. I rode there with the president, and Haneul-nim was running late. The president grumbled, “I’m just going to leave,” and Haneul-nim replied, “I’m almost there…”
When we arrived, Haneul-nim found plastic bags from the baggage area, made rain ponchos for us and said, “These are the best. You run in them and just toss them at the water station.”
Gomon-nim, who had finished much earlier, was stuck outside shivering because the car was locked. Macho-nim, who was training for the Dong-A Seoul Marathon, ran not just the 32km our president had suggested, but pushed through the extra hard 3km to make it 35km. And Kkomino-nim… I saw him not long after the start, leisurely taking pictures of the Han River. I had to laugh.
Last year there were just six of us at Goguryeo. This year, that number grew to fourteen.
II. “All Together – 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Start!”
1. Waking Up in a Panic
I set my alarm with plenty of time to spare, then went to bed. Suddenly my eyes opened and I thought, “Did I sleep through the alarm?” I grabbed my phone in a panic – it wasn’t even close to alarm time. I closed my eyes again, but sleep wouldn’t come back, so I just got up.
I packed Power Gel and Cream Fix into a box in my bag, but it took up too much space, so I ripped the box and moved everything into zipper bags. I started getting dressed, feeling strangely nervous, as if I’d forgotten something important.
I hesitated over what to wear on my legs – “Should I just wear tights?” – and then ended up wearing extra pants over my running gear. Turning off the living room lights and stepping out into the dark street, a thought crossed my mind: “Do I really have to go this far just to run?”
2. Meeting One by One
After enduring that long, lonely ride, I finally arrived at Beomgye Station. As I met one member, then another, the loneliness faded, but my body still felt half-asleep, and my mind stayed busy worrying about little things.
“Should I take off this outer layer when I run, or keep it on?”
“If I leave my clothes at the baggage area and wait in the cold, will I be okay before the start?”
“Will the restroom situation be alright?”
With all those thoughts swirling, we finally arrived at Jayang Station for the race.
3. “5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Start!”
As we got closer to the race venue and blended into the crowd of runners in colorful outfits, my worries slowly turned into acceptance – “This is just what I need to do now.” Both mind and body began to focus on just one thing: the start.
We shouted “Fighting!” together with the club members and then moved to our own starting zones, according to our target pace.
Flashy race kits, all kinds of running shoes, and especially those with cool-looking taping – they always make me feel a little intimidated, as if they must be really fast.
It feels like you’ve been waiting forever. Your toes slowly start to lose feeling. It seems like you could start running any second now… But when you look left at the “32km A-Course” flag, it’s still in the same place.
After a long wait, the Half Marathon A group begins to move forward. I torture myself choosing music on YouTube – slow tempo or fast tempo? I switch to fast, then back to slow again.
Eventually I settle on a plan: “Go easy in the beginning. Once my body warms up, I’ll start to push a little.”
Ah, and I almost forgot to start my smartwatch…
“5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Start!”
III. What Does It Feel Like to Fly Like That?
1. As If There’s No One Behind Me
The Jisinje race, hosted by a so-called “lover of alcohol,” is mostly attended by local running clubs, and everyone there seems really strong. The president said he would take it easy, snap some photos and follow the 2:00 pacer. After the race he said, “We were almost the last ones. Hardly anyone finished after two hours.”
My first kilometer was at 6:31 pace, and by the 3km mark I was at 6:00 pace. Almost everyone was ahead of me. In my Half B group, I was probably near the very back – I didn’t dare look behind. I worried, “Am I going too slow? Am I going to finish way too late?”
Then, on the opposite side of the course, I saw them: runners “flying by with their clothes flapping in the wind.”
I couldn’t help thinking, “What does it feel like to run like that, as if you’re flying?”
2. Morningbread Leading the 2:00 Group
Before I knew it, my pace had dropped to 5:30. As I passed the 7km mark, I spotted the 2:00 balloon floating in the crowd of runners ahead. The closer I got, the clearer it became. Right next to the pacer’s balloon, I saw a Pyeongjungma singlet – it was Morningppang-nim, looking strong and steady. He was there, helping to lead the 2:00 pacer and the group of runners following.
I thought to myself, “Morningppang has really gotten fast.”
I didn’t even shout “Fighting!” because I didn’t want to disturb their pace. I just quietly passed by.
3. Summerhanani, Running with Ease
After a long stretch of passing those “flying” runners on the opposite side, I finally reached the turnaround point – a section that always feels longer than it looks. I passed the turnaround, but the water station I thought was “just ahead” before the turn suddenly felt very far away.
I expected there to be something to eat, but there was nothing – just drinks. I filled my hunger with two cups of whatever it was, water or sports drink.
I had seen a short video saying, “Even a one-minute stretch can prevent injury,” so I stopped briefly, stretched, and then started running again. Because of the momentum, my legs felt like they weren’t mine – as if my feet were moving forward on their own.
Just when my body and mind felt completely disconnected, I saw someone in a Pyeongjungma singlet gliding towards me with a relaxed smile. “Fighting!” he said casually as we passed each other.
I bowed my head in surprise and greeted him back. Later I realized it was Summerhanani-nim. After that, I also started saying “Fighting!” to other runners.
4. Brown-brother in Sunglasses
When I registered for the race, I was still injured and couldn’t even run 10km. As my knee gradually improved over the next few months, another thought began to bother me: “Isn’t a half marathon too short for a race like this?”
So I made a deal with myself: “Fine. Then at least run the last stretch as hard as you can.” If I didn’t push in that final section, I knew I’d keep feeling regret even after the race.
And so, the last 1km began. I lifted my tired legs higher, swung my arms farther back, and just ran, completely all-out.
“Can I really hold this pace for a full kilometer?”
“Is this not the finish yet? Do I still have to go that far? I feel like I should be seeing it by now…”
“Is the finish line where we started? Or do we keep going straight and then turn right?”
When you’re in pain, time slows down. During that last kilometer, a thousand thoughts crossed my mind. As the finish finally came into view, another thought hit me: “Why is everyone suddenly sprinting like crazy?”
With just 100–200 meters to go, it felt like everyone around me was emptying the tank, whether because of me or because the finish line was so close.
When I finally crossed the line, completely spent, a cool-looking guy in sunglasses appeared out of nowhere and said, “Hey, you did great.”
Strangely enough, that one short sentence from Brown-hyung was deeply comforting.
IV. Winter, After the Busy “Farming Season”
1. Morningbread’s Sarangchae
Our village elder, Gomon-nim, says, “Jung-team, it feels wrong to show up empty-handed. Let’s buy something to share.”
After work, the neighborhood guys sit together, share a drink, and talk away the evening.
2. And Then, the Three of Them
While everyone was chatting, Jubong-hyung, who had been busy “plowing the fields” preparing for spring, suddenly opened the door to the sarangchae and said,
“Am I the only one who didn’t know? I was wondering where everyone went!”
“You finished plowing the fields already?” we asked.
“I just went light today… no big ambitions. Came back after an easy 3:20.”
Later, Morningbread closed up the sarangchae, the president and Kkomino-nim had their “snack break” out in the fields, and Haneul-nim, who finished work late, had to eat alone. In their own ways, everyone completed their “rice-planting preparations” for the upcoming Dong-A Seoul Marathon.
V. Once You Step In, It’s Hard to Step Back Out
“I just don’t have time to exercise…”
At my age I know very well that this is just an excuse, so it doesn’t really comfort me.
At first, running short distances feels miserable. But once you finish, that misery turns into a quiet sense of pride.
What started as “running for health” slowly becomes something more. You realize that the tangled, heavy, and sometimes depressed feelings inside you soften a little with every run – and that keeps you coming back.
Then one day you join a race. You look around and think, “There are this many people running?”
And somewhere inside, a small desire begins to grow: “Next time, I want to run a little better too.”
“A little farther than now.”
“A little faster than now.”
Once you experience a marathon like that, it’s hard to step back out. It pulls you in.
That’s it for today.
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