I live in Jersey City, New Jersey.

It was in my mid-thirties that I seriously started running on a friend's recommendation, and now I am completely captivated by the charm of marathons.

When I wake up in the morning, the first thought that comes to mind before coffee is, "What route should I run today?" 

These days, my marathon goal is to achieve a sub-4, meaning I want to finish a marathon in under 4 hours.

The members of my running club are mostly men in their early to mid-forties.

They all call themselves 'weekend elite runners.'

During the week, they are people who attend meetings with coffee in hand, but on weekends, they suddenly transform into professional athletes, wearing GPS watches and consuming gel packs, declaring, 'One day, I will run a 2:59!'

In reality, very few runners can achieve a sub-3, making it almost legendary. Even healthy male runners find it difficult to do so.

For reference, the fastest human in the world, Eliud Kipchoge, set the world record at 2 hours, 00 minutes, and 35 seconds.

Unfortunately, he passed away in a traffic accident... May he rest in peace.

So, there's a common joke among runners.

2:15 means professional/elite,
2:30 means semi-elite,
2:45 means 'very good',
3:00 means 'really good',
3:30 means 'good',
4:00 means 'goodish',
4:30 means 'average',
5:00 means 'you did it!',
5:30 means 'you ran the same distance as the winner, and that's what matters!',
6:00 means 'taking that long to walk around... is impressive!'

This is a ranking chart that only runners understand. I laugh every time I see it.

Because my exact goal is 4:00, which means 'goodish.' It's a bit ambiguous, but it still means good.

My best record is 4:14. It was a day when I felt really good, but unfortunately, that was my time.

These days, I run about 5 days a week. One day is for intervals, one day is for tempo runs, and on weekends, I do long-distance LSD (long slow distance). It was tough at first, but now the pleasure that comes from that pain is strangely addictive.

Some days, I run a half marathon and then feel compelled to run more, only to find I can't go up the stairs the next day. Still, I believe that soreness helps me grow.

When the men in the running club shout for a 2:59 during training, I quietly maintain my pace in my own zone.

The biggest lesson I've learned from running marathons is that this is not a battle of records, but a battle of consistency.

When my body says no, that moment of taking one more step is what ultimately changes me.

Whether it's a sub-4 or a sub-3, it's me who gives meaning to those numbers.

And someday, when I run 42.195km and cross the finish line with a time of 3:59:59....

On that day, I will probably feel like I have the whole world.

Until then, I will continue to run with a goodish smile today.