Too Fast. But Fast Enough.

October Crucible: Precision | October 9, 2026

1. The Starting Line

Six days ago, I finished the TransJeju 60K.

Today, I had a simple workout planned: two sets of two kilometers at 4:15–4:17 per kilometer, with a short recovery between them.

The Gyeongju Marathon is October 17, and my goal is to break three hours.

But before today’s workout, there was some uncertainty.

After running 60 kilometers, how would my legs respond? Would they feel heavy? Would I struggle to reach 4:15/km? Maybe 4:30/km would be all I could manage.

I wasn’t trying to prove anything today. I wanted to see whether marathon pace was still there.

That was the question at the starting line.

Could I still run at my target pace?

2. The Path

The first interval began.

I looked down at my watch.

3:55/km.

Too fast.

I backed off, but finished the first two kilometers at an average of 4:09/km.

After a short recovery, I ran the second two kilometers at 4:12/km.

Both intervals were faster than planned.

And when I finished, what was I thinking about?

Too fast. Too fast.

That was my immediate assessment.

I hadn’t controlled the pace properly. I’d gone out too aggressively. The purpose of the workout was precision, and I’d missed the target.

Those observations were fair.

But something else had happened.

Before the workout, I had wondered whether my legs could even reach 4:15/km.

Now I was criticizing myself for running faster than that.

I had gone from questioning whether I could reach the target to being disappointed that I’d exceeded it.

And somehow, I’d almost overlooked that change.

It’s interesting how quickly the mind can move from uncertainty to criticism.

We set a goal, achieve something meaningful, and immediately notice what wasn’t perfect.

Sometimes that attention to detail helps us improve. Other times, it prevents us from recognizing progress.

The challenge is knowing the difference.

I don’t want to pretend that running too fast was the right execution. It wasn’t.

But I also don’t want to ignore what the workout demonstrated.

My legs responded after TransJeju. Marathon pace was available. The uncertainty I carried into the workout had been answered.

Both things were true.

The execution needed improvement. The result gave me confidence.

3. The Finish Line

Today’s workout wasn’t about proving that I could run fast.

It was about finding out where I stood eight days before the Gyeongju Marathon.

I got my answer.

Now the next challenge is precision.

Not 3:55/km.

Not 4:09/km.

Not even 4:12/km.

4:15/km.

And not just for two kilometers, but for 42.195.

That requires a different kind of discipline. The ability to hold back when the legs want to go faster. To trust the plan rather than chase the watch. To spend as little unnecessary energy as possible before the final kilometers.

There’s also a lesson here that extends beyond running.

Improvement doesn’t require us to ignore our mistakes. But it shouldn’t require us to ignore our progress either.

I can recognize what went wrong without making it the entire story.

Six days after a 60K race, I went out wondering whether I could run at marathon pace.

I came home criticizing myself for running faster.

Next time, I’ll aim to get the pace right.

But today, I can also acknowledge that the legs were there.

Precision isn’t just about how accurately I run. It’s also about how accurately I evaluate what happened.

Flow. Precision. Grit.

One Way Grit.