Doing hard things is like a drug for me.

I can't shake it.

Historically, I've been proud of it though. It's served as a launching pad for experiences like completing an Ironman or a 10-day silent meditation retreat.

But, when I was in The Netherlands on an inconspicuous Saturday afternoon, I wasn't proud of my addiction to challenging myself.

I was pissed at it.

An Unexpected Day

Everything was going so well! A friend I studied abroad with, Caesar, invited me to Leiden, to meet up with his friends and ride their boat around the city.

Leiden doesn't have the name recognition of other Dutch cities, but I felt like I got the real Dutch experience while I was there.

No tourists. No cultural commercialization.

I should have stayed longer.

Caesar's friends went above and beyond to make me feel included. As we rode through the Leiden canals, his friend Neils gave me an impromptu tour of the city.

The rest of the group switched to English and we spent the next few hours roasting the US, making fun of each other, and shooting the breeze.

Such a good vibe! But then Neils said the one thing that could change everything.

"The Leiden Marathon is tomorrow."

I Hate Myself

I didn't want to do the Leiden Marathon.

I just wanted to sit there and chill with my friends. I wanted to get a feel for their culture and their city.

But anyone who knows me can predict what happened next.

It didn't matter that registration was closed or that I was 4 beers deep.

I told the guys I was interested (I wasn't), and Neils became my personal agent: making calls, sending messages, and shopping for a race number on Dutch eBay.

Within an hour, he had one.

Questioning my Life Choices

I came to terms with how stupid this was as I walked back to Caesar's apartment just as the boys were gearing up for a night on the town.

Wasn't the point of travel to connect with people and their culture? Why was I forgoing that for a race where I had nothing to prove and nothing to gain?

I could just say no.

The longest run I'd had in the last 4 months was 8.5 miles. So what was the point of this stunt? Was it ingrained in me to do any challenge that I found?

I was a bit embarrassed. But I was in too deep. The only way forward was to power through.

Race Day

Based on the amount of running I had been doing, I aimed for sub-4 hours. Doing that might reconcile the idiocy I got myself into.

My plan was to run 20.2 miles in 3 hours–6.8 miles in hour 1, 6.7 in hours 2 and 3–and then finish the last 6 miles at a 10-min/mi pace that I was sure to hit even if I was struggling.

I hit 6.8 miles in 55 minutes, so I planned to walk the next 5 minutes. I stopped on the side of the road to pee but by shielding myself from the runners, I accidentally exposed myself to a group of supporters up ahead.

I couldn't bear walking past the fans I'd just flashed. So I resumed the running as if this was my plan all along.

It was a mercilessly hot, sunny day–they canceled the afternoon 10K because of how many marathoners collapsed on the route. But my previous PR was on a course with the same tantalizing heat so I must be built for it.

I kept running and felt pretty good. Mile 9 came and went with no incident. Around mile 11, I passed the 3:45 pace group. I reached the halfway mark at about 1:37:20.

Woah. I was on pace for a 3:35 finish?

The Best-Case Scenario

I'm used to everything going wrong on race day so I was shocked to throw my sub-4 plan out of the window.

I decided to keep running until the wheels fell off and made it to mile 22.7 before that happened.

What!? It wasn't supposed to turn out like that.

I was on pace to smash my PR. A few brutal miles of hobbling into the finish gave me a finishing time of 3:41:04. Almost 7 minutes faster than anything I'd run before. All without having run more than a third of that distance in preparation for it.

The race also had the greatest supporters of any marathon I've run. Leiden only has a population of 120,000 but it felt like every single person came out to support.

Given the turnout, it ended up being a great way to experience the city and the local culture. And no one was more surprised than me that I ran the best marathon of my life.

My Retrospective

Funny enough, I still feel conflicted about my 24 hours in Leiden. Despite running a PR I can't shake a nagging feeling.

Was it really necessary?

The beauty of running is that it can surprise you with a performance like that. But running isn't the goal of my trip. More of a side quest.

So why did I do it? Does it set a precedent for how I approach unnecessary challenges like that in the future? Or can I learn to draw the line?

Should I even draw the line?

Because the race went so well, it left more questions than answers.