There is something different about preparing for a marathon.
It is not just about running longer distances, waking up earlier, or learning how to maintain a certain pace. It is about making a commitment to something that you know will eventually test you, physically and mentally.
For months, I had been preparing myself for the Jakarta Running Festival 2026 Full Marathon.
The goal was simple: finish 42.195 kilometers.
I had previously completed the Standard Chartered Singapore Marathon in December 2025, so this was not my first encounter with the distance. But somehow, JRF felt different. I wanted to do better. I wanted to prove that I had learned something from my previous marathon.
I set my target at sub-5 hours.
Five hours to cover 42.195 kilometers. It sounded achievable on paper, but I would soon discover that a marathon is never just about what looks achievable on paper.
Race day started long before sunrise.
The Full Marathon flag-off was scheduled for 4 AM. I was assigned to Coral 3, which meant I would start several minutes after the official gun time.
The race had a strict five-hour Cut-Off Time, calculated from the official gun time, not from each runner's individual start.
That detail would eventually become very important.
The atmosphere was exciting. Thousands of runners gathered, each carrying their own reasons for being there. Some were chasing personal records, some were running their first marathon, and others simply wanted to experience the distance.
I was there for my own reasons.
I wanted to finish what I had started months earlier.
The first half of the race went relatively well.
I tried to maintain a manageable pace, knowing that the real challenge would come later. Experience had taught me that the marathon does not really begin at the starting line. It begins somewhere after kilometer 25, when your body starts negotiating with your mind.
The Jakarta heat was already becoming noticeable.
Hydration stations, race traffic, and the need to manage my energy all became part of the equation.
Still, I kept moving.
At that point, finishing within five hours still felt possible.
Somewhere around kilometer 28, things began to change.
My legs started feeling unusually heavy. There was a sensation that my thighs were about to lock up. The heat was becoming increasingly difficult to tolerate, and discomfort in my shoes was making every additional kilometer harder.
By kilometer 30, running was no longer as straightforward as it had been earlier.
I started walking more frequently.
I knew the clock was ticking, but my body was no longer responding the way I wanted it to.
There is a particular kind of frustration in knowing exactly what you need to do but not having the physical capacity to execute it.
I kept trying.
But the marathon was becoming a different race altogether.
This is where my JRF Marathon journey ended.
At approximately kilometer 31.8, I missed the designated checkpoint cut-off by around two minutes.
Two minutes.
After months of preparation, training sessions, long runs, and sacrifices, my race was officially over.
I did not get to run the remaining 10 kilometers. I did not cross the finish line. And I did not receive the finisher medal or finisher jersey.
It was a difficult moment to process.
Not because I had never experienced failure, but because I was so close to completing something I had worked hard for.
Thirty-one point eight kilometers is a long way to run.
But in a marathon, it is still not 42.195.
And that distinction matters.
Looking back, there are several things I would take away from this experience.
1. A marathon is more than a distance.
Running 42.195 kilometers requires more than cardiovascular fitness. Heat management, muscular endurance, hydration, nutrition, footwear, and pacing all play important roles.
2. The clock is part of the race.
A five-hour COT leaves very little room for unexpected problems, especially when accounting for start delays, aid station stops, and difficult weather conditions.
3. Experience does not guarantee success.
Having completed a marathon before does not mean the next one will automatically be easier. Every race has its own challenges.
4. Not finishing does not erase the journey.
I would have loved to receive that finisher medal. I would have loved to have a photograph crossing the finish line.
But I also know what it took to get to kilometer 31.8.
And I am not going to pretend that those kilometers meant nothing.
I came to JRF 2026 expecting to complete my second full marathon.
Instead, I left with an unfinished story.
Maybe that is what makes this experience difficult to forget. There was no dramatic finish-line moment, no medal around my neck, and no celebration at the end.
Just a race that stopped earlier than I had planned.
But perhaps running is also about learning how to deal with things that do not go according to plan.
I started this journey wanting to prove that I could run a marathon in under five hours.
I ended it learning that there is still so much I need to understand about the distance.
31.8 kilometers was not 42.195 kilometers.
I know that.
But this is not where my marathon story ends.
The next starting line is still waiting.
