The Three Breaks in the Chongqing Running Journey as Evidence

        As the saying goes, where you fall, you have to get up from where you fall. On January 18, 2026, I woke up at 5:20am to freshen up, finished breakfast, adjusted my state, and prepared to start the revenge battle of the 2025 Chongqing Marathon with the first IAAF White Gold Label race of the year (2026 Chongqing Marathon).

                When the wind by the Jialing River, carrying the moisture of January, swept past the bustling starting line of the Chongqing Marathon, my palms tightly gripping the number cloth were already oozing fine sweat. The hoops and cheers of the runners beside me and the outline of the Monument to the people's Liberation in the distance constitute a hot picture of the race. In my heart, there is only one firm goal - to break through three hours and win the golden statuette, which symbolizes glory.

        At the moment of the gunshot, the crowd surged like a tide, and I steadily moved forward at the preset pace. There are too many surprises and challenges hidden in the racetrack of Chongqing. The flat riverside section of the road is supported by the wind, and the cheers of the audience along the way are heard one after another. The roaring of encouragement penetrates the noise and becomes my inexhaustible motivation. The state of the first half of the journey exceeded expectations, with a stable pace of around 4 minutes and 5 seconds per kilometer. As the time on the watch kept jumping, the target of 255 was getting closer and closer. I couldn't help but recall the scene of crossing the line, my lips involuntarily curled up, and my steps became a bit lighter, secretly feeling that "breaking three" was just a natural thing.

        Unexpectedly, the accident occurred at a distance of 35 kilometers, which is widely recognized as the "gate of hell" for marathons. Just as I was about to accelerate and get closer to the target, a sharp pain suddenly came from the muscles of my right calf and thigh, causing them to tighten uncontrollably. Cramp up! The excruciating pain instantly slowed down my pace, completely disrupting the originally smooth rhythm. I gritted my teeth and tried to stretch, but could only barely maintain a slow jog. Watching the runners pass by one by one and the pace numbers on my watch keep climbing, anxiety wrapped around my heart like a vine. Do you want to give up? "A thought flashed through my mind, but as soon as I thought about the countless morning runs and night exercises I had put in for it, and the promise I made in front of the mirror before the race, I shook my head vigorously, supported my calf and slowly adjusted my pace to a manageable range, moving forward step by step with difficulty. I only had one belief in my heart: as long as I didn't stop, there was hope.

        Finally, with only 100 meters left at the finish line, I instinctively glanced at my watch and realized that the three hour mark was less than 30 seconds away. At that moment, all the pain and fatigue seemed to be replaced by an extreme desire. I lifted my head and watched as the red silk at the finish line shone brightly in the sunlight, and the cheers from the audience became even clearer. Charge! I roared in my heart, gritted my teeth and took big strides, letting lactic acid surge freely in my muscles and sweat blur my vision. Every step felt like stepping on a hot iron plate, and the twitching sensation in my calves still lingered faintly. But at this moment, I had forgotten everything, and all I had in my eyes was the red line symbolizing victory.

        The wind howled in my ears, and my heart beat wildly in my chest. At the moment when my body broke through the red silk, the timer froze at 2 hours, 59 minutes, and 55 seconds. I held onto my knee and gasped for breath, letting tears and sweat slide down. The staff next to me smiled and handed over the golden statue. The cold metallic touch came from the fingertips, but instantly warmed the entire chest. Looking back at the track of the past, those flat and steep slopes, perseverance and struggle, shouting and silence, have all become the most precious memories.

        This Chongqing Marathon is like a microcosm of life. It taught me that a smooth and easy journey is certainly beautiful, but those ups and downs of tests and moments of perseverance are what truly demonstrate the meaning of striving. The Little Golden Man is not only an honor, but also a commendation for every morning training and overcoming fatigue. The wind by the Jialing River still blows, but I know that the courage and resilience given to me by this Chongqing running journey will accompany me through every marathon of my life, allowing me to always carry my love and move forward courageously on the road ahead.

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