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I usually show up to a race feeling "almost prepared" - that familiar blend of pre-race nerves and quiet optimism. But for my Hong Kong half marathon, there were no illusions. I was objectively undertrained. This wasn't just a gut feeling, it was a conclusion supported by the cold, hard facts of my training log and a string of missed weeks thanks to a stubborn winter cold that gifted itself to me right around Christmas. It all started with the best intentions. After my half marathon in Munich, I planned a proper break before building a solid base for Hong Kong. But that break stretched longer than expected, and just as I found the groove again and actually enjoying the sessions rather than just surviving them, life intervened. A weeks-long cold is not what you hope for when flights and hotels are already booked. Back home in Germany, a health setback like this would have meant a polite cancellation. But Hong Kong was different. The last time I tried to travel here, a pand...

I boarded the ICE train to Munich in the morning, watching the autumn scenery slide along beside the track. The fields looked as if they were having a disagreement about the season: some still green with late-year crops and optimism, others waiting to be harvested, and some already bare, as if they had simply given up. Most trees were already wearing their autumn colours and would probably soon dress down even further, letting their leaves fall to the ground. The weather was not too bad yet, a cloudy, greyish twelve degrees outside - the exact temperature at which optimism begins to wear a jacket. Around the hills, a layer of mist hung indecisively, unable to decide whether it wanted to be low-lying cloud or high-flying fog. Yet somehow it seemed to find its way into the train, giving me chills. Either that or the heater had been set too low, perhaps an aftermath to the earlier, fuller crowd. The weather tomorrow looked friendly for runners, but even thinking about it gave me that fami...

It was close to midnight as I stepped out onto the street. I had just finished one of my last training sessions before my run on Sunday in Munich. The cool air hit my face. The weather had been on the wetter side this evening, though there was no heavy rain. The wet asphalt reflected the streetlights, multiplying their glow in the quiet night, which held a calm atmosphere as everything and everyone was winding down. The last patrons of Saints 'n' Scholars were still finishing their conversations and cigarettes outside as I walked by. Continuing down Wilhelmsstraße, a bittersweet feeling of nostalgia gave me company with every step. Directly behind me was the Brecht Bau, where I spent hours sitting in seminars as a young student. Across the road stood Unckel, where, on countless occasions, pizza, pasta, and beer happily settled into my belly amidst good company. Passing by the library, some students were exiting the building, and I could still spot heads inside, probably deep in...

I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from this year’s run in Ulm. Just a week earlier in Tübingen , I had clocked one of my slowest 10ks in a long time. Last year in Ulm , on the other hand, I ran my fastest ever. Somewhere between those two extremes, I hoped this one would land. The weather felt more on my side this time. Not the sticky heat of the previous weekend, but also not the clear blue skies from last year. Instead, Ulm decided to dress in shades of gray. I arrived with less of a time buffer than usual, only about 40 minutes before the start. From the central station it was roughly a half-hour walk across town: first to drop my bag, then onwards to the start line. On the way I got a sneak peek of the finish stretch. I was walking on the side, while just a few meters over runners from the morning races were pushing hard toward the line, some already smiling, others grimacing their way through those last meters. That gentle incline up to the cathedral looked just as long as I reme...

This definitely wasn't my first race where I arrived at the starting line just in the nick of time. But having it in my hometown of Tübingen and running it for the fourth time definitely plays into my procrastination habit. With all my other races being a first, I always had a buffer "just in case." But for this one, I found myself waiting at home, slowly getting ready until it was time to rush and cycle downhill to the starting line. Even though the ride takes only ten minutes, I was still cutting it close. Luckily, I had enough time to run a few hundred meters to warm up and join the very back of the pack. Being towards the end and with the route having some narrow parts through the Old Town, the field stayed crowded, which ensured I didn't start too fast and was properly warmed up before I could really get going. My training leading up to this event had been pretty spotty, and I only became more disciplined in the last couple of weeks. After all, a half marathon is...

Day 14 We woke up earlier than we would have liked, finished our packing, and polished off some remaining snacks, just enough to keep our stomachs from protesting. One last soak in the hotel’s onsen bath was a fitting farewell before checkout. Together with S and E, we had a low-key convenience store breakfast by the river while waiting for M to join us. Once assembled, we headed to a nearby Brazilian restaurant for lunch, which took a bit longer than planned, the good kind of long, though. Just in time before, I managed to send off my postcards (my traditional way of sending delayed greetings across time zones), and afterward we squeezed in some final shopping. I ended up skipping the tea and spice purchases I’d been vaguely planning. Maybe I’ll track them down in Singapore instead. Getting to the airport proved more complicated than expected. We got to experience the full Japane traveller special: hauling luggage up and down train station stairs. I really should’ve remembered that ...