Nihao!

　　Almost two years ago, I was new to China. I had just decided to join and work for a local company in Beijing, and came to the city came during the fall。I came over without knowing anyone, and I could not speak more than a few words of Chinese。

　　One night out, someone who knew I was a runner came up to me and asked if I was going to participate in the Beijing Marathon. I don’t know if it was the beer or myself speaking, but I heard myself say “Yes”. Four weeks later, I found myself on the subway an early Sunday morning heading for the starting line。

　　That Sunday morning, Tiananmen was packed with people, this day not filled with tourists but runners, and I felt very small on what is said to be the biggest square in the world。

　　I had not checked where the starting line was, nor how to get there, and time was running out. When I finally came to the starting area, there was less than 10 minutes to the start – and all I could see were the backs of the almost 30.000 runners。

　　I knew that this would be the end of the dreams I had to make a good time. Before I would be able to pass the starting line, 15 minutes would be gone and I would still be at the back of the race。

　　All of a sudden, someone knocks on my shoulder. When I look up, I see an old Chinese man, smiling at me. Stressed as I am, I give him a short smile back, and continue cursing at myself for being so late to the start。

　　Again, I feel the same knocking, and I turn, now even more stressed. This time, I can see that he points at his watch. I nod, no idea to what to say in Chinese but “Nihao”. He shakes is head, and points again. I somehow figure out that he wants to know how fast I’ve run. “2 hours, 33 minutes” I say in English. Someone next to him hears this, and shouts something loud in Chinese. The people around me start applauding, and shouting the same thing。