The December 1st Marathon has already become a tradition. It is another heartfelt marathon for me because it takes place in my hometown. More precisely, right behind my house, in IOR Park, where I regularly train and where I believe I have run over 18,000 kilometers.

This year’s edition was special: The December 1st Marathon was named after Ilie Roșu, "the runner with flags," in honor of the man who ran 293 marathons proudly waving the Romanian tricolor. I met him during my first years of competitions. His story of courage and perseverance remains a source of inspiration for everyone who had the chance to meet him.

My plan of attack was similar to that of the Bucharest Marathon: half of the race with Carmen, running at an easy pace and chatting, then speeding up to a pace of 5 min/km, or so I hoped. This run had several goals: to celebrate December 1st with a run, to enjoy another marathon—especially since it was taking place in my beloved park—and to test a pair of running shoes, the Hoka Mach X2.

That morning, I organized everything down to the last detail. Even though I was at the other end of Bucharest, I managed to vote and pick up a package before the race. The weather forecast was cold and windy, so I parked in the warm underground parking lot at Park Lake. As I prepared my gear, Carmen showed up, and we did a rather interesting warm-up... in the mall’s underground parking lot! 🤭

After a quick visit to the mall’s restroom, we exited directly into the park, with only 3 minutes left before the start, which wasn’t far away.

Emotions were running high. After all, both of us were theoretically out of shape. After the Naples experience, where Carmen ran 33 km and I ran 100 km, we both took a break, overwhelmed by our respective projects. I took advantage of the opportunity to enjoy my annual two-week break, which turned into two and a half weeks.

Just before the start, shivering and with a frozen nose, she jokingly reproached me for not having a better idea for a December 1st gift than a run with icicles on our noses. "How nice it would be to stay home, in bed, under the warm covers!" she said, trying to muster up some courage. I laughed, but we both knew that no matter how cold it was now, today’s run would have its charm, and we’d fondly remember the adventure afterward.

The national anthem was played, the final instructions were given, we heard the Dacian battle cry—which Nea Ilie used to shout in the past—and then... 3, 2, 1, start!

We started at the back, and there was a bit of congestion at the start because the course quickly narrowed into a path. But with good spirits and patience, everyone managed just fine. It was cold, but not as bad as forecasted, as we were partially sheltered by the park’s trees. However, where the wind caught us, it was sharp and biting, a real winter chill! 😁

The park was gloomy and somber because of the clouds and cold, but still full of autumn colors, ducks, swans, seagulls, and other creatures. The course isn’t exactly an easy one, with "trillions" of turns and many uneven spots, but its difficulty makes it more... adventurous! 😋

Each lap was about 4.2–4.3 km, with one refreshment point per lap. It was well-stocked, as always, with cold water (because, of course, it couldn’t be warm 😂), isotonic drinks, cola, and all sorts of goodies. Honestly, starting from the third lap, I began snacking on something because they had, among other things, salty snacks, bananas, and gingerbread.

While running with Carmen at an easy pace, I took about one gel per hour and supplemented with goodies from the refreshment point. We finished the first half in about 2:44 and celebrated her moment of glory at the finish. We said our goodbyes, and then... I took off running. 😁

I was very curious about many aspects and had a lot of dilemmas in my head. In three weeks, I had run three times: once, a few days after Naples, for about half an hour. Then, after two weeks of rest, I ran 12 km on Wednesday, which went pretty well considering such a long break, especially after a 100 km run.

On Thursday, I received the shoes, and on Friday, I took them out for a mixed run: about 6 km with Paul, a casual morning chat pace, followed by a tempo run of the same distance. The feeling was fantastic. They were very light, slightly cushy (softer and more flexible soles than usual), but with incredible shock absorption. We got along very well, even though they caused some discomfort in one heel... which turned out to be due to a surprise in my left sock. 🤣

And so, leaving Carmen at the finish, energized, curious, and hopeful, I took off running. I should have run at 5 min/km, but my legs (and the shoes) took off faster in the first two laps (out of the five remaining), and I went below that pace, which, of course, was going to cost me later. As in 99% of cases, when you don’t stick to the plan you’re confident in, unexpected things happen, and obviously, it’s never your fault—it’s the Earth’s, the organizers’, other runners’, the city council’s, God’s, etc., etc. 😂

Two laps flew by, and it was dreamy, despite the wind in certain sections, the uneven terrain, and the stairs. Even though my average pace showed around 4:55–5, I ran much faster and felt great. To be fair, the average isn’t entirely relevant because I also filmed, chatted with familiar faces from the running community, and engaged in other related activities.

The first problem arose in the third lap, something I was expecting and was very curious to see how I’d handle: I was extremely hot, believe it or not! 🤣 And for a good reason. Although I came in shorts and wore a thin long-sleeve shirt, I had a running jacket (from Mammut) on top, designed for serious cold or light runs—as I had run in the first half. I opened all the ventilation zippers, as the jacket uses side pockets, a chest pocket, and two underarm zippers to regulate temperature.

Still, at 4 degrees, even with a "real feel" of -4, combined with intense running, I was overdressed. At one point, I considered leaving the jacket at the finish line, but I was already too sweaty—it was too late. So I continued running in a pseudo-sauna. No big deal, though; I hydrated with the best they had and my flask of isotonic drink.

In lap 4, I got hit with that feeling, around km 35–36... it’s the sensation you never want to feel during a marathon or a long run. It’s the feeling that tells you the fuel is gone. 😂 You know, like when a car’s red warning light comes on. And then you think: should I keep going at the same pace? Slow down? You keep thinking until it’s no longer up to you but up to what your body can manage. 🤣

It was clear that after such a long break, with just two runs, I couldn’t expect miracles, but even so, I can say I’m satisfied. I managed well and as I wanted until km 38. After that, I ran with my heart and my "miracle" shoes.

For those who don’t know, the park lap in this marathon includes a staircase climb—let’s say about 15 steps—right after exiting under the bridge. I always approach these stairs with the utmost respect and take them walking. The effort isn’t worth the 4 seconds saved by running. I used the same strategy when I ran a sub-3:30 (3:26) marathon here at a previous edition of this event. What I wanted to say is that in lap 9, when I walked up the stairs, I felt like I was walking with someone else’s legs. 😂 It wasn’t that I couldn’t feel them—they hurt like crazy—but it felt like they weren’t mine! 😂😂😂

Toward the end of the lap, I exchanged a few words with someone at the refreshment point and grabbed an isotonic drink. I could feel the fatigue settling in, but I pushed forward, knowing I was so close to the finish. Each step felt heavier, but the cheers from fellow runners and the thought of completing yet another marathon kept me going.

The final lap was a mix of emotions – pride, exhaustion, and relief. As I crossed the finish line, I couldn’t help but smile, despite the tiredness. It wasn’t my fastest marathon, but it was one of the most memorable ones, filled with challenges, camaraderie, and the joy of running in my beloved park.

Every marathon teaches me something new, and this one was no exception. Whether it’s about pacing, gear, or simply appreciating the journey, there’s always a lesson to take away. Here’s to many more miles and stories to share!