Why I Didn’t Give Up: Running My First Half Marathon Against the Odds

Ever since I started running a few years ago, the idea of completing a marathon has been at the back of my mind. But back then, I was only running occasionally, and the thought of covering 42 kilometers felt far out of reach.

Photo by Clique Images on Unsplash

That started to change last year when I began running more regularly. Restarting after more than a year of just occasional jogs wasn’t easy. My legs were stiff, my pace was slow, and every run felt harder than I remembered. However, having a clear goal helped: I decided to train for a half marathon.

A full marathon still felt unschaffbar - completely out of reach - especially since the longest race I’d done was a 5K. But 21 kilometers? That seemed manageable. Just far enough to be a challenge, but not so far that it scared me off.

As I wrote last year in late August, running started to shift something in me. It didn’t just improve my fitness. It gave me more energy, sharpened my focus, and made me more productive.

In this article, I want to revisit this journey: how I trained, what I learned, and what it felt like to cross that finish line for the very first time.

Let’s dive in.

The first steps

The first steps were the hardest.

The year before the last, I barely ran at all and it showed. My fitness had taken a hit, and when I (re)started running last year, I felt completely out of shape.

Sure, I could still run 5 kilometers, but I was slow. Slower than I used to be. And that was frustrating. Just a few years ago, I was in much better shape. Now, even short runs left me winded and sore.

The first 10 runs? Honestly, they weren’t fun. Not even close.

My legs were heavy. My motivation was low. And every time I laced up my shoes, I had to push myself out the door. I didn’t enjoy it, but I kept going.

Fortunately, after about three weeks I started to feel the impact of my training.

The first benefits

At first, I thought it would take months before I’d notice any real progress.

But it happened much faster than I expected.

Within just a few weeks, my resting heart rate began to drop. At first by 10 beats per minute. And after half a year it came down more than 20 bpm.

That kind of change was hard to ignore.

Another benefit came just as quickly: running became a powerful way to release stress. It became a productivity booster for me.

These early improvements gave my motivation a real boost.

Why?

Because progress is energizing. When we see ourselves getting better, even by a small margin, our brain rewards us with dopamine and that drives us to keep going.

That’s one reason I love running with a smartwatch. It gives me instant feedback. I can track my pace, resting heart rate, VO₂ max all those tiny numbers that show me I’m moving in the right direction.

Seeing those metrics improve in real-time? That kept me lacing up, even on the hard days.

The setback

By early summer last year, I hit my first real setback.

Ironically, it came because I was making so much progress. I felt unstoppable. My motivation was sky-high, and I started pushing harder: more runs, longer distances, faster pace.

But I wasn’t unstoppable.

Like many beginners, I ran straight into a classic overuse injury: shin splints.

And the worst part?

I ignored the warning signs.

At first, it was just a dull pain while running. Then it stuck around after my workouts. Eventually, I felt it even while sitting at my desk. That’s when I finally took it seriously.

I pulled back on my training and switched to cycling until my legs felt better. Slowing down was frustrating, but it was necessary.

In the middle of recovery, I signed up for a short race. Just a 5K. It wasn’t much compared to the half marathon I was training for, but crossing that finish line gave me a huge motivational lift. I was still in the game.

Once my shins healed, I gradually increased my training again. I felt like I was back on track—until the next curveball hit.

The race I had been training for (the Wachau Half Marathon) was canceled.

Heavy rains and flooding swept through the region, and the organizers had no choice but to call it off. And of course, they were right to do so. But still… it stung.

I had trained for months. Pushed through setbacks. Healed from injury. And now, the big goal I had been working toward just disappeared.

It felt awful.

New motivation

But I wasn’t ready to call it off.

I still wanted to run a half marathon in 2024. So I started looking around for other races. Eventually, I found one in Graz, scheduled for autumn. It wasn’t sold out yet, so I quickly signed up.

Would this finally be it? Would I run my first half marathon just a few weeks later?

No.

After the pandemic years, COVID had mostly disappeared from the headlines. It didn’t seem like a threat anymore. But it was still out there and just one week before the race, I got sick.

The symptoms were familiar: sore throat, fatigue, headache. A quick test confirmed it. I had COVID.

It wasn’t a severe case, but I had a fever and felt weak. There was no way I could run 21 kilometers in that condition.

So, no half marathon in 2024 after all.

And yes, it felt terrible. Another setback. Another race lost.

But even then, I still didn’t give up on the idea. After I recovered, I talked to a friend of mine. We decided to do it together and signed up for the Vienna City Half Marathon in 2025.

The third time’s the charm, right?

The good news: I had a clear goal again. And with that goal in place, I had all the motivation I needed to keep running through the colder months.

Training in the cold season

The cold months had always been the downfall of my running habit.

When the days got shorter and the weather turned grim, it became harder - and then almost impossible - to keep up my routine. In previous years, I usually managed to run until around November. After that, I would quietly call it the end of the season and take a long break until spring.

But not this time.

With the Vienna City Half Marathon scheduled for April, a winter pause wasn’t an option. If I wanted to be ready, I had to keep training: through the cold, the dark, and the excuses.

So I geared up. I bought warmer running clothes, and even a headlamp for those pitch-black evening runs.

Running in the dark wasn’t exactly fun. It often felt like I was heading out in the middle of the night, even if it was just 6 PM. But I kept my goal in mind. And seeing my metrics (VO₂ max, resting heart rate, pace) slowly improve gave me the motivation I needed to keep going.

Music helped, too. A good playlist can make all the difference when it’s freezing and you’re questioning your life choices mid-run.

I didn’t train as much as I had during the warmer months, but I still managed two to three sessions per week. That consistency mattered.

Eventually, the darkness started to lift. Literally. In March, I could finally run in daylight again. What a relief.

And now, the race was just around the corner. My first real attempt. Vienna was calling, and I was thrilled.

Again a setback

No. Not again.

Two weeks before race day, I started feeling off. Not sick exactly - just weak. My energy was low, my pace slower than usual, and every run left me feeling more drained than it should have.

Then came the sore throat. And the sniffles.

No fever yet, but it was clear: a cold was creeping in. And it wasn’t going away.

Would I recover in time?

Nope. It only got worse. Just a few days before the race, I developed a light fever. Nothing serious—but serious enough that 21 kilometers was out of the question.

I could have tried to walk it. But was that how I wanted my first half marathon to go?

No.

So, once again, I made the hard call: I dropped out.

Another race. Another plan undone.

At this point, I started asking myself: Am I cursed? Will I ever cross that finish line?

I will keep trying

That’s the decision I made a few weeks after the Vienna City Half Marathon.

I wasn’t going to give up. I would keep signing up - again and again - until I finally crossed that finish line. So, I registered once more for Graz.

And the surprising part? I still had the motivation to train.

Around that time, I was reading Outlive by Peter Attia, and it gave me an extra push. One insight stuck with me: increasing your VO₂ max is one of the best things you can do for your long-term health and longevity. That clicked.

So, I doubled down. Not just on running, but on my overall health.

I tweaked my nutrition. I started tracking my protein intake and made sure I was getting enough every day to support my training. It wasn’t a huge overhaul, but these small changes added up.

Oh, and I bought a new pair of running shoes. (If you’re a runner, you know: nothing boosts motivation like fresh gear.)

Then, in early spring, I came across another race right near where I live. The Baden Stadtlauf. It offers 5K and 10K tracks, but also a half marathon.

I signed up.

Maybe, just maybe, this would be the one.

Finally.

There I was: standing at the starting line of my first half marathon in Baden. Geared up. Fired up. My heart was already beating like I was halfway through the race, even though I was just waiting. I was nervous, but mostly I was excited.

Then came the starting signal.

It had begun.

I set off at a steady, moderate pace. I didn’t want to start too fast and burn out halfway through. The course was four laps, so I decided to use the first one to find my rhythm, get a feel for the route, and then pick up the pace for the rest.

But I wasn’t just running. I was flying.

That first lap felt magical. I was surrounded by so many other runners, all chasing their own personal goals. You could feel the energy: focused, determined, alive. That’s what I love about running. Unless you’re a pro, it’s never really about beating others. It’s about challenging yourself. It’s about showing up for your own finish line.

And doing that with others? It’s something special.

I haven’t told you my time goal yet. It was simple, but ambitious (for me): I wanted to finish in under 2 hours. That’s the target I had set back in 2024.

Could I do it?

The first three laps flew by. I kept a better pace than I had expected. Everything felt good. But with each lap, the temperature climbed. The heat started to wear me down.

By the final lap, it got tough. My water was almost gone. My legs were heavy. I was exhausted and overheating. But I didn’t stop.

And then something amazing happened.

A fellow runner noticed me struggling and ran beside me for a bit, encouraging me to keep going. That gave me the final push I needed. I reached deep, found the last of my reserves, and pushed toward the finish line.

And I crossed it.

1:55:58.

I did it.

I finished my first half marathon.

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So, that’s my story: finally crossing the finish line after all the setbacks and struggles.

What about you? Are you a runner, or maybe someone thinking about starting? What’s the challenge you’ve been putting off, and what’s your first step going to be?

Remember: progress isn’t always a straight line. Sometimes you stumble, sometimes you pause, but every step forward counts.

So lace up, set your goal, and keep moving. You might surprise yourself.