It was a sudden impulse reinforced with a practical necessity. One of the students in my dad’s group failed to get back from the training camp and take part in the very first Kharkiv International Marathon in 2014. One spare number left in his office like an empty seat to the train traveling to the journeys, a question left without an answer that would never be exposed.

I never took part in a mass running competitions before that day. It seemed weird to me seeing so many people volunteer to take part in the event knowing they would hardly ever finish in the first 100 runners, hoping for no reward and acceptance. The number turned out to be my lucky ticket into this strange world and, after a short hesitation, I was determined to make this puzzle unraveled. There were no objections — my dad was also looking for a replacement.

Standing in a crowd just a few rows from the starting line I felt uneasy. Exaggeration’s hovering, confusion, a crazy beating of the heart — it seemed there was not enough air for us all. Though I could feel I was not alone in this crowd; we all were first here, the same feelings and thoughts seething in our minds. A few moments after, the crowd took off and a true mess started.

In a total squash people tore my dad’s glove away (we were there together to overcome 3km distance in his 48 — by the way, soon the distance was reestimated and turned out to be 1.2km longer.) After the race, he’d found it laying down the square — dirty but safe.

Many people didn’t know how to take the race. Some were running like hell from the very start sending others sprawling. My mistake was following them; I wore myself out too early and struggled for the remainder of the race. Others were wending slowly or laced their shoes amidst the track interfering with the runners.

The first 1km looked just like that. Later on, the traffic bounced back. That was the point I finally felt the magic.

I’m struggling to actually describe how I felt the moment we ran the familiar streets. Every turn, tree, building seemed different; walking down the same place, I suddenly found myself in another world — bold, sheer, reviving. All the senses became aggravated, with an excitement overwhelming me in full.

People at the sidewalks cheered us. Keeping the pace was hard enough, but their encouragement helped a lot.

But even them weren’t the biggest thing in the run. What was stronger is the sense of unity. I really don’t remember the number of participants. Sure, there were thousands of them. All of us came there to celebrate a healthy lifestyle, a will-to-win spirit. It’s a great community, existing right at the moment you’re conquering the race and requiring no verbal approval.

I have never taken part in something more inspiring before. The race helped me to look at the usual things from a completely new angle. The next time you’ll be reading some tips to develop creativity or something like that, add one more to the list: start running.

The finishing line came in sight suddenly, leaving a blank and incompleteness in a soul. I gained my breath back; though, there was something I failed to recover. To restore this lost feeling I have been getting back to take the race for 4 next years in a row. I concluded that there is something that exists only on the track with no chance to take it away with you.

I had never been a sort of an athlete. From the very childhood, I was keen to intellectual work. This time I discovered that sports and running give an astounding impulse to creativity and vowed myself to come back over and over. At the run, there is only the track and you. The problems bothering you all day long don’t exist anymore.

Now, I’m to finish the story because tomorrow I’m taking the next start. Feel free to join me — I’d be happy to share my new passion with you ✌🏻