“Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so  easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” (Hebrews 12:1)

The first time I heard that quote was in 2010 while I was still cleaning up the mess I had made of the previous 10 years. Life had taken its many pounds of flesh, nearly stripping me of my dignity, and I was still fortunate enough to take a few more lumps before any real change could actually take place. 

I’m stubborn. 

Lucky me. 

That’s probably why I never saw the gargantuan sign life kept throwing in my face with that quote. 

“Let us run with perseverance.”

Perseverance. The act of getting your ass back up after falling; the ability to keep going after you fail; to rise above all the nonsense and keeping your eye on the goal; the key ingredient to running; cousin of endurance. 

At the time, I had no idea how much the simple act of running was going to change my life. But like any great artist, running has been waiting for me the entire time.

I was in no shape to run anything greater than five kilometers. I wasn’t overweight, but I was a flabby 170ish. Then I went back to college in my early 30s and the love handles mysteriously found their way to my waist-side. I swear it felt like one day I woke up and I had boobies. I graduated from college with two degrees and a progressive 50 extra pounds strapped to my body. 

At 39 years old, a few years after I graduated from college, I was the heaviest I had ever been in life, weighing in at around 260 pounds, and I was sure as hell having some health problems. There were days when it would feel like my entire body was starting to give up. The obesity label set in, depression along with it, and I continued to suffer as I continuously thought about the athlete I used to be and the good shape I used to be in. 

It was hard for me to accept that my body and mental health were lacking strength. It was even harder to accept that I did it to myself after 25 years of an unhealthy diet, smoking cigarettes, drinking beer like it was water in the desert, and occasional exercise. Reality finally hit me in 2018 when I tried to run a mile and nearly puked all over myself. I fell over on someone’s front yard gasping for air after releasing the beers I had just drunk back into the wild. I fought the tears back as I walked back down the street to my house.

It was time for a serious change. I finally let go and let God take the reins, and the first thing the big guy showed me was that damn quote, “Let us run with perseverance the race marked for us.” That’s when I finally got the idea to start running, but the idea of running a marathon wasn’t conceivable. That was the day my life changed.

I got up the next day in a glorious hangover, and I went online to search for gyms close to my house. None of them were remotely close to being in my budget. Discouragement was quickly setting in, so I decided to go the frugal route and do my own exercises at home. A quick search online showed me some good running routes near my house. So I started planning. Recover from the hangover today and start running tomorrow. 

My room quickly turned into a radio in search of the best running music I could find. I set my alarm for 5:00AM and called it an early night at 10PM because that was early to me in those days. Now, I’d like to say that I got up as enthusiastically as I went to bed, but I didn’t. I rolled around in bed for another hour and then I finally crawled out and started stretching. And guess what, I was tired after stretching. Yup, I busted a sweat trying to touch my toes that early. I finally got out of the house around 6:30AM in the best pair of running shoes I owned, basketball shorts, an old t-shirt, a hoodie, and my iPod strategically routed under my shirt. I really thought I was cool. *heavy eye roll*

My over-imaginative mind tried to convince me that my first run could be on a local trail and that I could run it from beginning to end, but my body gave that thought the finger. I jogged lightly down the street for as far as I could go and then I walked back home. That was my first run in years. Later that day, my legs were jello from the half-mile run and being sore while editing at work was a little distracting. It hurt but it also felt good, and I wanted more.

During my running research in the middle of the week, I came across a sponsored post on Facebook for the Wharf to Wharf 10K race from Santa Cruz to Capitola, a classic northern California run. If I was going to get wet, I might as well go swimming. The limited signups were that day, so I signed up even though I had never ran a 10K in my life. I made the commitment, spent the money, and there was no backing out now mainly because there are typically no refunds in races.

With two months before the race, I had enough time to prepare myself for the unexpected. I started by running down the street and back to my house without stopping. Then it was around the block without stopping. Then it was two blocks. Then three. In a month’s time, it was three miles. I ran four miles a week before the race, which was as ready as I was going to be at that time.

On July 22nd, I ran my first real race at the Wharf to Wharf 10K in 1:09:47. That time may not seem very fast to you, but it was certainly enough to make me feel accomplished after the race.

During the race, I was tired after three miles without stopping. I started timing my runs—run for five minutes, walk for one. I pushed along with people running next to me, but I hated them. They all had smiles on their faces as if it was supposed to be fun. But it wasn’t long before I was smiling as well. The spirit of the race made it fun and the people were all having a great time. Many of them encouraged me to keep running when I stopped to walk. 

“You got this! We’re almost there! You can do it!”

In the final quarter mile, I crossed the photo area and I tossed up the Spartan Up hand gesture. We ran along the cliff-side road that descends into Capitola, so I picked up the pace, feeling the salty ocean breeze caress my face. My dad and my girlfriend were there to meet me at the finish line, cheering me on as I made the final sprint. I used to go with my parents to this race when I was a kid, so it seemed customary for me to have some family there with me.

When I got home that day, I was drained more than usual, but it was worth it. I had begun a new journey, one that would lead me to better health and (hopefully) a slimmer body.

In September, a friend asked me to sign up for a charity race called One Mile for One Child organized by the San Jose Vietnamese Running Club (SJVRC). My girlfriend, Minh, ran the 5K and I did the 10K. Sharing this event with her was a great experience, and I learned that exercising as a couple made the event more engaging, and we both go to contribute to a great cause. I finished that race in 1:02:20. Getting faster.

Then October rolled around a week after the SJVRC race, and I was a bit skeptical about how my body would hold up for another 10K. Fortunately, I was more prepared physically than I was mentally, so I signed up for the 10K in the Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon Series.

The Rock ’n Roll Half Marathon Series gave me the opportunity to run a 10K and raise money for a local nonprofit hospital, St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital. I raised a little over $500 for the hospital, and I even got my registration covered. Apparently, my efforts allowed me to be knighted as a St. Jude Hero. Their awesome gear certainly made me look the part a lot better than I did when I went out for my first run.

In November, I skipped my usual plans of traveling to Washington for Thanksgiving and decided to participate in the Silicon Valley Turkey Trot 10K, which took place on Thanksgiving. This run was a bit easier for me because running had become a regular practice by then. The only obstacle was avoiding people who started before me and walked. I was a little bummed because I didn’t get a picture of myself during the race, but it didn’t hinder performance. I finished that race faster than the others at 0:59:00

2018 came to an end in a magical way when I ran the Silicon Valley Santa Run 5K through downtown San Jose. I dressed up in a Santa suit and chased the Grinch through the course. I didn’t catch him, but it was a fun process. It actually started raining during that run, which really helped my body temperature and my breathing.

The Santa Run was the first race I did without music because I forgot my iPod. It was a new challenge that forced me to put more attention on my breathing while pairing it with my strides. That was a great training tool that I will likely use on later runs. In the end, I wasn’t tired or sore days after the race. I reached a new 5K PR with 0:28:09.

It was my first official year of running a race every month, and I made significant progress in my life, which may not have been possible had I not stopped drinking alcohol and smoking cigarettes and starting running. At this point, my weight would fluctuate between 190 and 200, but I was able to run four miles without stopping, and I felt the strength returning to my body—physically and mentally.

I hadn’t given up on playing basketball just yet, but I was starting to accept the fact that I’m not going to be the top-pick anymore and that it was only a matter of time before I couldn’t play anymore. And, you know what? I was okay with it. My ambitions changed, and my focus moved to self-improvement.

Running 10Ks became a regular part of my life. In fact, before the year ended, I registered for a running event every month for the first five months of 2019—from January to May. Each of these events has a goal, and each goal will contribute to the grand resolution of 2019: running the greatest distance of my life, a half marathon in October. Maybe one day I can run the Boston Marathon, but that’s just a dream for now.

Here’s to making the marathon a reality!