After 49 days in Iten, Kenya, I boarded my shuttle to the airport with a bittersweet taste in my mouth. I had fallen in love with the place, and wanted to spend so much more time here. But at the same time, I knew the time had come to test my fitness. To see how far I had come after training in the Home of Champions. I flew to Cardiff, Wales, for my third appearance at the World Half Marathon Championships.

My 3^rd World Half Marathon Championships was easily the most dramatic of them all. After a 72:12 personal best (72^nd place) at Karvana 2012, followed by a massive improvement at Copenhagen 2014 – 68:19, 92^nd place, I headed to Cardiff 2016 in the best shape of my life. I had trained for 7 weeks in the high altitude of Iten, Kenya, and done training I had never before managed. For the first time, I wasn’t a student balancing schoolwork with running twice a day, 100 miles a week.

For the first time, I went into the World Championships as a full-time runner.

However, fitness is not the only factor for success. An athlete also needs to be healthy to perform at his best. Since November, I have been battling plantar fasciitis – an inflammation of the band of tissue connecting my left heel to the ball of my foot.

I managed to return to my training load of old in Kenya, but my plantar ached from time to time, especially after long runs or fast workouts. It wasn’t an ideal way to prepare for a World Championship, but I decided to make the best of what I had.

Heading into Cardiff 2016, I had 6 and a half weeks of solid training under my belt. But 4 days before the race, I did a track workout at on the dirt track of Kamariny Stadium, and felt the soreness in my plantar return. It wasn’t a hard workout – 4.8km warmup, 20min tempo (3min 23sec/km), 5min jog, 7 x 400m (70-72sec) with 60sec recovery, 4.8km cooldown (all at 2400m/7800ft altitude). But my foot did not feel good after. A recovery jog in the afternoon and a 60min easy run the next morning also did little to assure me that my foot would hold up for Worlds. A whole day of travel on Thursday meant a day off running, and on Friday, all I did was a 20min run, followed by 1km at half marathon race effort (3:08), then 10min cooldown – all in the supportive Asics Kayano 22s. My plantar was now less sore, probably due to the rest day, and I put all worries away.

“It will be fine when you race,” I convinced myself.

Weather on race day was horrific – heavy rain, 42km/hr winds. Cold, blustery, slippery conditions. The worst possible conditions for a tight plantar. I warmed up cautiously among world class athletes such as Mo Farah and Bedan Karoki, doing drills safely on the grass rather than on the road, and doing everything possible to protect my feet from the hard, slippery road – I had 21.1km of racing on it, more than enough.

Stepping onto the start line, I felt great. It was cold, but I was prepared with my orange Asics arm warmers, bright yellow Nike gloves and black Nike half tights. I felt leaner than ever in my red Singapore Athletics top. I was ready to race the best in the world.

The gun went off, and immediately there was carnage to my left as defending champion Geoffrey Kamworwor was tripped in the crowded start, slipped and went down on his knees, immediately being trampled by the masses of runners behind.

Starting on the far right, I had hoped to streak past the chaos, but received an elbow to the chest myself from British athlete Matthew Hynes, who had in turn been knocked in my direction by the guy to his left. The slippery ground and crowded start was making things ridiculous.

Settling into my own gear and linking up with my good friend Iolo Nikolov of Bulgaria, we worked together, ignoring the guys who had gone off to a crazy start, while setting a strong, yet reasonable pace ourselves. We crossed the first mile (1.61km) in 5:01. I looked at my watch in surprise – I felt GREAT. Never had a 5:01 mile felt that slow in my life. I looked ahead in excitement – if this was anything to go by, the race was going to be something special.

Iolo and I worked together, and chipped away at the lead a huge pack had built on us. Everyone had gone out blazing fast. We caught the second pack just after the second mile, which was crossed in 5:04. Still very, very fast, and on course for a sub 67min clocking. No Singaporean has ever gone under 67min before, and with the way I was feeling, I knew I had a good chance of being the first.

Mile 3 – 5:07. Still feeling good, and the pack had settled into a more steady pace now. 5km was crossed in 15:47 – a fast pace, but one that felt very comfortable, and everything seemed to be going fine. Suddenly, while going down a steep hill, I felt like someone had driven a knife through my left heel. My old injury had flared up.

Pain. Anger. Frustration. Tears. I was furious that something I had gingerly managed over the past 4 months had come back just like that. A combination of less supportive racing shoes as compared to my usual heavily supported Kayanos, the hard road which was also slippery from the rain, hills and the fast pace, probably resulted in the reoccurrence of this injury.

If it was any other race, I would have dropped out immediately. But this was the world championships. I was wearing the red and white of Singapore. When you're at a major games for your country, you're not allowed to drop out - that's my philosophy.

I sucked it up and pressed on. I hoped that by continuing to run, my heel would get so beat up and swollen that the sharp pain would gradually numb up, like how boxers who break their fists in a fight wait for their fists to numb up before attacking again.

At 10km, crossed in 31:28 (just 13sec slower than my 10km national record), I felt something snap in my left arch. "Not good", I told myself. I bit my lip from the pain and started to lose contact with the huge pack I was leading just seconds ago. Some of them, such as my Bulgarian friend Iolo, continued on to run under 67min despite the tough conditions. I was now in no man's land, running alone against the hills, wind and rain.

The wind started to howl and the rain started to fall. Favoring my right leg over my left, I got to 13km and felt like my left heel was the size of a tennis ball. It felt so swollen. But because it was so swollen, it started to get numb. I was no longer feeling the sharp pain, but felt like I was running with a golf ball in my shoe.

"Just one more mile," I told myself. I got to 15km in 47:23, the fastest I've ever run for 15km.

"One more mile," I told myself again. And again. And again.

Despite slowing dramatically from the now torrential rain and 42km/hr headwinds, one thing kept my spirits up - I was passing good runners from France, South Africa, China, and other powerhouses. The thought of a Singaporean mixing it up with these guys allowed me to fight on.

"You drop out, you waste the money of your association. That'll make it harder for other athletes to go for overseas races in the future. Other countries will look down on Singapore. This is about more than just yourself." I told myself again. And again. And again.

I got to 20km and couldn't feel my face or my right thigh. Then my left. I drove my arms hard, chasing the Chinese athlete in front of me, narrowing the gap as much as I could. After what seemed like eternity, I crossed the finish line in 67min 56sec, in 64th position - the highest a Singaporean had ever placed at the World Half Marathon Championships.

From Cardiff, I learned two things. Firstly, that my plantar fasciitis injury is a nagging problem which seems set to stay for the foreseeable future. And secondly, that I’m a tough-as-nails athlete when the chips are down, who can outperform better athletes in tough race conditions.

Living the spartan life lifestyle and training with the best runners in the world for 2 months definitely helped with the latter. And if anybody wants the training camp of a lifetime, take it from me. Go to Kenya. Embrace the friendly villagers, the endless dirt roads, the lush greenery and the thin mountain air.

You won't regret it.

-Rui