Robert H.
Final Entry: Nov. 7
Entry 24: Oct. 30
Entry 23: Oct. 17
Entry 22: Oct. 9
Entry 21: Oct. 2
Entries 11-20
Entries 1-10
November 7
The Big 5
If you have ever been on safari to Africa, then you know that "The Big Five" refers to the five most difficult animals to hunt, namely: Lion, Elephant, Cape Buffalo, Rhino and Leopard. I have been to Botswana a couple times and was very fortunate to see and photograph all five wonderful creatures in their natural habitat. So, what more natural than to want to also bag the "Big 5" from the marathon world, known as the World Marathon Majors (also referred to by folks I have met along the way as the "Grand Slam,” "Grand Tour" and "Grand Prix"). As readers of this diary are aware, to make it a little more challenging I wanted to complete all 5 Major marathons in one year and this I accomplished last Sunday by successfully completing the New York City Marathon.
Here’s the report:
The weekend arrived and Magda and I landed at La Guardia on Friday evening around 11:30 p.m. We headed straight to the hotel and got to bed as soon as possible without bothering to set an alarm. Next morning (almost noon) I finally arose and after a quick brunch hopped on one of the official shuttle buses to the Expo. Being a keen observer and aficionado of marathon expos I was very pleased to see that this event was as well organised and carefully laid out as the one in Chicago three weeks earlier. Lines were non-existent and there was plenty of space to wander around checking out the various merchant's wares. The only minor worry was that my packet didn't include a timing chip as they incorrectly believed I would be using my own. No problems, I was given one of the official chips and went on my way. (Note: This won't be the last you hear about the chip.)
After collecting my Bib and chip I wandered the expo, picked up a couple of souvenirs and managed to change my 4 a.m. shuttle bus to the race next morning for a 6 a.m. ferry. I also got my photo taken and then headed to Times Square where, when I texted the number I had been given, I got to see myself on one of the big screens – well cool.
Back to the hotel to drop my stuff off and I then met up with Magda at a nice little Italian restaurant where we had a fantastic meal (pasta with a piece of grilled salmon for me, my pre-race staple) washed down by a couple glasses of wine (never do anything the night before a race that you didn't do in training!).
I was in bed by 9 p.m. (actually 10 p.m., but the clocks went back at midnight) and got a pretty decent night's sleep. At 4:45 a.m. I bounced awake, dressed quickly and headed out to find a taxi. By 6 a.m. I was on the Staten Island Ferry enjoying the sights of New York and a beautiful sunrise. What a fantastic way to get to a race!
I hung out at the ferry terminal on Staten Island for an hour trying to delay the time when I had to go to the start village and sit around in the cold (the temp was in the 30s with a bitterly cold wind). I finally headed out and spent a miserable couple of hours in the start village shivering and wasting energy trying to keep warm, feeling sorry for those folks who had arrived there on the 4 a.m. shuttle buses. Aside from the weather (which is unfortunately out of the organizers hands) the Fort Wadsworth start area was exceptional – I guess a requirement if you are going to have folks waiting for such a long time. Food and drinks were available and more Port-a-Loos than I’ve ever seen at a major race (never more than 3 persons in any queue).
We finally got called to the start (I was in wave 1 which went off at 9:40 a.m.) so I checked my bag and, wearing some old PJ bottoms and a plastic bag from the dry cleaners, followed the rest of my wave to the start line in the Orange corral. 40 minutes later I discarded the temporary clothes and the gun went off.
The sight as everyone ran up over the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge was fantastic, only slightly marred by the frigid wind blowing in our faces (maybe discarding the throw away clothes was a little premature). After 2 or 3 miles I started to warm up and my feet and hands stopped being numb. The weather, when not heading into the wind, was perfect for running a marathon and everything appeared to be going well when I crossed the first timing mat at the 5km mark. (FYI, timing mats are the way that runners times are collected; every time a runner crosses a mat it picks up the unique signal from the chip that they are wearing and records their time.)
Ever since the London Marathon, when my chip didn’t record my times properly, I have been paranoid about timing chips and so, when I got to 5k, I phoned my brother in England to make sure that everything was working fine (uniquely for me I had decided to run with my cell phone so I could take some photo’s along the course). I got through to Pete, my younger brother, in England (a little surprised to get a call from me mid-race) and asked him if my 5k split time had come up (he was planning to track me via the computer). He advised that it hadn’t but we were unsure whether this was due to a natural time lag for processing. I passed on my split time (approx 25:50) and told him I would call again at 10km.
As I ran up 4th Ave. I tried to convince myself that everything was OK. At 10k I called England again and Pete confirmed that my time wasn’t being recorded. I gave him my split time (approx 51:05) and hung up. This was to be the pattern for the rest of the race. Every time I crossed a mat I would call my family in England who duly noted it down (ruining their enjoyment of watching Tyler Hamilton driving his way to a Formula 1 World Championship in the Brazilian Grand Prix).
The race progressed and I looked good for a 3:30 marathon. I crossed the half way point slightly off-pace at 1:46:12 but feeling strong. I used the crowd to my advantage, running close to the side of the road whenever I felt myself slowing down and allowed their support and enthusiasm to pick me up. When I hit the 15-mile mark I re-assessed my energy level and the state of my legs and decided there was enough in the tank to pick things up even more. At 17 miles I saw Magda in the crowd and stopped to say a quick “Hi.” Pete had kindly been calling her from England to relay my splits so she had a good feel for how I was doing.
Things continued to go well despite my ET-like calls home which were getting me a little out of breath (although in all honesty I made this worse by also calling a few friends). From 18 miles the mats became much more frequent, being at every mile as well as every 5km, such that I was on the phone to England every few minutes. Nevertheless I continued to make up time, enjoying and being motivated by the rolling hills which seemed to be constant over the latter part of the race.
The last couple miles I ran really well but didn’t have much left in my legs or lungs for a really fast finish. That said I was extremely pleased with my final time of 3:29:14 which meant that I had run the second half of the race 3 minutes and 10 seconds quicker than the first half. Not a PR, but definitely a good time, especially as it was my third race in 5 weeks. Now I just had to make sure it was recognized.
Number 5 baby!!!
By the time I crossed the finish I felt a little wobbly for a while but was determined to resolve the chip issue before I left Central Park. I walked for what seemed like miles and talked to numerous officials until finally I found someone willing to help. Long story short, after more walking I finally ended up in the official command trailer next to the finish line talking to the head of technology and a group of other officials. They were very understanding. I gave them my details, my bib number, the number of the chip (still attached to my shoe) and told them about phoning in every time split to England (which they found humorous but impressive). I made it known that I expected them to do something. I wasn't rude, but I was resolute. As I said, they could not have been nicer and seemed to appreciate both my concerns and my determination. They believed that the chip would have correctly recorded my times it was simply a case of linking the chip to my bib. The official promised to investigate and was hopeful that it would be resolved before I had walked back to the hotel. They were true to their word. Pete phoned me from England just as I got to the hotel to say that the results had been updated and I had an official time. I could finally relax and celebrate. After a quick shower I joined Magda and work friends Eric and Liz for a few beers (Eric had also run the race but in a different wave; amazingly our times were just one second apart).
My feelings on the race are a little mixed. The New York City Marathon is a wonderful race with great crowds and fantastic organization. I really loved the course and the added challenge of the hills in the second half. That said, looking back at the race I can’t say that it was one of the most enjoyable I have run. Unfortunately the stress about whether I would be given an official time spoiled the race for me. I would dearly have liked to have ignored it and really wish I wasn’t so fixated on time and could just enjoy running marathons for the thrill of the challenge, but unfortunately that’s not me. Running against the clock and delivering the best time that I can on the given day is all part of the challenge and what motivates me to lace up the shoes. And if I’m going to push myself over 26.2 miles, I want to have an official time to prove that I did so.
To wrap up, my goal of running the 5 majors in one year is finally achieved and I feel extremely proud and happy. It has been a few days now and I still can’t quite believe that I managed it. I know I was extremely lucky not to have picked up any significant illnesses or injuries. I was also fortunate in having a great set of friends to encourage me along the way and I am indebted to Brooks Running who supported me through their Brooks Inspire Daily program.
Many friends have written or called to ask what my next plans are (they know me too well). As yet I haven’t quite decided, but I am feeling antsy to identify something. I need a goal to aim for, something that is challenging (and maybe a little crazy) but, if I make the effort, achievable. Right now I am spending the evenings surfing the internet looking for what that will be. I’d really like to do an Ironman Triathlon as well as a 50- or 100-mile ultra race. I would also secretly like to break the 3-hour barrier but recognize that, turning 45 next year, time is against me. In the meantime I am seriously considering doing another marathon in December – just to keep in practice.
I’m beginning to think I may be addicted, insane or both. Not too many people have disagreed :-)
For those who are interested, here is the tale of the tape for my "World Marathon Majors" challenge:
Date Marathon Time
04/13/08 London 3:55:55*
04/21/08 Boston 3:57:41
09/28/08 Berlin 3:38:10
10/12/08 Chicago 3:55:54
11/02/08 New York 3:29:14
*Because of chip issues I was given an official "gun" time of 3:57:41
October 30
The Final Countdown
48 hours until my 5th and final World Marathon Major of 2008 and Europe's "The Final Countdown" is playing in my head.
The past week has certainly dragged, and I have succumbed to pre-race hypochondria – worrying about the many aches and pains in my legs and feet, the tightness of various muscles, and to top it off, whether I am coming down with a cold. Why is it that I will happily run a marathon while suffering from serious ailments and injuries (a broken rib, pneumonia, plantar fasciitis) yet when I am relatively fit and healthy my mind insists on manufacturing problems just to give me something to worry about? Is running a marathon just not enough anymore and I subconsciously need the added challenge? I seriously hope that's not the case for my continued mental well-being.
Andy Blackford, incredibly humorous yet pessimistic columnist for the British Runner's World magazine believes that misery is an ingrained part of the human condition. To quote:
What, then, makes us go running? Name another voluntary activity during which your only desire is that it should end? ... It forces me to reflect on our deepest psychological drivers ... I've tried happiness and it's not all it's cracked up to be. I soon found myself yearning for a bit of honest anguish and self-loathing, and returned thankfully to my proper state of grim pessimism and general, all-pervading anxiety. I'm really only happy when I'm not. That's why I'm a runner. Why would I sit at home before a blazing fire, savouring a good burgundy with the one I love when I could be rupturing my Achilles tendon in a frozen ditch somewhere? Basically, we modern humans have a minimum discomfort requirement ... Our sport has grown in popularity at almost exactly the same rate as central heating. The more comfortable we become, the more we need something to make us inconsolably miserable. Only then can we know life for what it truly is. Not only is the glass half empty, it's got a crack in it and the contents are leaking out all over the new carpet. (You can read more of Andy Blackford's great observations in his book Running on Empty.)
There is certainly a fairly large kernel of truth in what Andy writes. I recall my friend James' motivational quip a few months back when I was in full panic mode before the triathlon: "If it was easy, why do it?" Funnily enough, this was exactly what I needed to hear. If James had tried to tell me that "It won't be that bad" or "Don't worry you'll be fine" I would have ignored him. I can only assume that I wanted to panic and I wanted to believe that things were going to be tough. As with the marathon, I seem to need things to be challenging and hence I "enjoy" overcoming health difficulties or inclement weather (last year's Chicago and Boston marathons are great examples of this).
Unfortunately I seem to be in great shape and Sunday's weather forecast is for a mostly sunny day with temps between 44 F and 52 F. Whatever will I do?
Guess I'll just have to accept that things feel pretty good, give it my best shot, and try to endure the endless renditions of the Rocky theme song along the course. It must be a UK vs. US thing, or in my case York vs. New York, but I find the theme music from Chariots of Fire to be far more uplifting and motivating than the Rocky theme. In any case, the big weekend is here and I can't wait.
October 17
OK, it’s my last entry so you know it’s gonna be a long one. Get yourself a tall (possibly alcoholic) drink… make yourself comfortable... if you’re ready, here we go.
Well the big day finally arrived and brought with it some wonderful warm weather – wonderful that is, unless you had to run 26.2 miles. On any other day in mid October in Chicago we would be enthusiastically grateful for a glorious sunny day and temps in the 70’s – strange how our perspective is skewed as a result of this pastime we’ve adopted. On the positive side, the weather was nowhere near as tough as last year’s race. The heat also gave the Chicago Marathon organizers a chance to showcase the changes they had made. Across the board I was impressed with their efforts – the extra water and Gatorade stations, the cold sponges and hosepipes/showers, the warning flags – everything came together and made for a very safe and controlled event. This is nothing more than I have come to expect from such a professional event, last year’s problems being a blip on an otherwise fantastic record.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s rewind…
For me the most fun I had on marathon weekend was Saturday morning, meeting the other runner diarists at the Question and Answer session at the expo. It was strange to meet seven people for the first time yet to feel as though I already knew them all as a result of their diary entries. Their personalities had all shone through so it really felt as though I was meeting old friends.
Once the Q & A session was finished we all went our separate ways, wishing each other good luck for the next morning. I stayed at the expo for a few more hours, wandering around the various booths with Magda, bumping into various friends, checking out marathons around the world, and generally getting my fill of the energy and excitement that pervades an expo the day before a race. As I have mentioned before, I love expos especially when, like Chicago, they are well organized and held at a venue that can easily accommodate the vast numbers of runners and supporters. Not having to deal with massive crowds or long queues allows you to just relax and savour the moment. (Other marathon organizers take note – the expo is a major part of the marathon experience. For me, it really makes things real and gets me pumped up and excited for the next day. A badly organized or cramped facility is tiring and leaves everyone stressed and irritable – not what you want just before a race. It is especially not what the expo exhibitors want, as it severely reduces people’s willingness to hang around and buy stuff.
We finally headed home and the rest of the day I relaxed and enjoyed my obligatory pasta dinner (with a modicum of wine) and turned in early. Unusually for me on the eve of a race I actually got a pretty good night’s sleep and awoke bright and early but refreshed at 5:30 a.m.
Magda and I arrived at Grant Park around 6:45 a.m., played the game of “which port-a-loo line is shortest,” talked to a few friends on our cell phones, checked our bags and headed off toward the corrals. On the way we met Dan, who recognized me from the runner diaries, and Jeff, who I had met in the corral at this year’s Boston Marathon – it’s amazing how small the running world is.
In next to no time we were lined up and the gun sounded to start the race. I would like to say that the next 4 hours were nothing but unadulterated fun and enjoyment, but that would not be wholly accurate. Unfortunately, as much as I’d like to, I can't blame my misery all on the heat. The simple fact is, I was over-confident and went off too fast. I felt pretty good standing in the start corral and decided to try for a 3:40. I paid the price around mile 18 when my "get up and go" got up and left. Although I managed to hang on and finish, it certainly wasn’t pretty. Over the last 8 miles I had plenty of time to berate myself for being every type of fool (after 14 marathons I really should know better). Fortunately I was able to scrape in under 4 hours which I was pleased about, I just wish I had taken it a bit easier and enjoyed myself.
Even more upsetting, a group of friends (Lynn, Betsy, Ben, and Betsy and Ben’s Mum and Aunt) had come out to cheer on Magda and I but we never saw them, despite looking really hard at the points where we were expecting them. It is very upsetting to miss someone who you know came out specially to cheer you on. I feel both cheated and guilty. This would have been sad under any circumstances but they had made banners and, unbeknownst to me, had stopped in at my home to collect my dog, Fen. He, along with their dogs Ellie and Lucy, made for very unique cheerleaders wearing outfits specially made for the occasion. I can’t believe that they managed to get Fen to wear it and would have loved to have seen him and them – it would have been just the mental image I needed to help cope with the last 8 miles.
(Fen, Lucy and Ellie looking resplendent in their marathon spectating garb.)
Despite the misery of the latter part of the race, there is plenty to be happy about (and I get more positive about the race as time passes). For a start, I finished and finished under 4 hours, maintaining my streak for the year. But the time is less important than the actual act of finishing. This is a tough endurance event. It's supposed to be hard. It's supposed to be unpleasant. Of the 14 marathons I have run there is only one (Berlin) where I can honestly say I didn’t find it particularly difficult. All the rest have been varying degrees of misery with an added dose of why-the-hell-do-I-put-myself-through-this-torture thrown in for good measure. I regularly vow not to do another one. At some point I usually hate my stupid, hasn't-learned-his-lesson, what-am-I-trying-to-prove-anyway, stubborn self. But it's the ecstasy of overcoming this self-induced agony, of persevering and pushing myself against the desire to slow down, take it easy or quit, that keeps me coming back for more (OK, so it’s agreed, I am an idiot).
In addition to finishing, while I missed some friends, I did see a number of other people who had come out to cheer. Many thanks to swim coach Maggie, Alan, Sarah (Energizer Bunny), Erica, Jamie, Amy and especially coach Mark Buciak and his wife Barrie (Mark – I thought you promised there would be fish and chips waiting for me at the finish line!). Throughout the race I was fortunate to chat with a number of runners who had read my runner diaries and recognized me (I am very pleased that last week I posted an image of the shirt I would be wearing on race day.) Most of these were in the early stages of the race, when things were going well. Maybe others saw me towards the end, but politely (and correctly) decided to leave me battling the demons in my own self-induced and very personal hell.
(Magda and I before everything went pear-shaped.)
All things considered I am very happy with the race and believe it or not, I am really looking forward to the New York City Marathon in three weeks. This will be my first time running New York and I am very excited. Plus, for the first time this year, I will be able to run a race without worrying about "holding something back" for the next one (not that I was worrying about this at mile 23 last Sunday – I was just focused on finishing). I am a little concerned that I might not have that much to give, but I'll just have to see what happens on the day. Hopefully it will be under 4 hours and, if everything feels great, I may even try for a “fast one” (there we go again, tempting fate).
So what’s next? As if to prove that I am truly certifiable, I am seriously considering doing another race in Indiana in early December. Magda found the race, the Tecumseh Trail Marathon near Bloomington, and it has really peaked my interest. I haven't run a race in Indiana and I absolutely love running trails but have never attempted a trail marathon (I did a half a few years back in Michigan but that was before I got the marathon bug). I'm seeing it as my reward for doing the 5 “Majors” – sort of a cool down, fun run before I hang up my shoes for the year. I fully intend to take some time off over Christmas and New Year and not run at all for 4 weeks. I will then start training for Boston – can't wait for the sub zero Saturday morning long runs. Beyond that, I haven't really decided what my goals are for next year. I turn 45 in July and would love to celebrate it with something special – hopefully an Ironman if I can find one that isn’t already full. Is there anyone out there with any recommendations or “leverage” with race organizers? (-; If not, possibly a 50-mile Ultra-Marathon, or maybe I'll reduce the number of races and try to go for that elusive sub 3-hour. Who knows – it's all part of this fun rollercoaster ride.
Finally, thank you for following me on my journey. Your e-mails and support have been fantastic and have really made it worthwhile. I hope you all found it interesting and were encouraged in your own goals. To all the first time marathoners who successfully completed Sunday’s little jog – CONGRATULATIONS – you are now part of a fairly elite group, less than 1% of the population to be exact.
I will leave you with my e-mail address and a sincere wish for anyone who wants to contact me to please do so.
Take care all.
Rob (you can e-mail me at: britrob@26-2.com)
October 9
Five days to go and just when I should be eating well and relaxing I am instead suffering from a rather nasty stomach bug. I picked it up shortly after the Berlin marathon and haven't had much solid food since. At the weekend I thought I was over the worst, but then flew back to Chicago on Monday and felt as bad as ever. Terrible timing but not much to be done about it. I am hoping that I make a quick recovery in the next couple of days and can manage to get some food in me prior to the race as I desperately need to rebuild my energy stores, having gone 7 days with little food. If things don't improve then I imagine Sunday's race could be quite tough. I can't say I relish the prospect of a 26-mile port-a-loo relay, but provided I run conservatively and am extra vigilant about taking on board water, energy drinks and gels then hopefully things will be OK.
Despite my current predicament I am very much looking forward to this weekend's race. The early weather predictions look very favourable, with a high in the mid 70's but early morning temps closer to mid 60's. Definitely better running weather than last year. Leading up to the big day, I will be joining the other 7 marathon diarists in a Question and Answer session at the marathon expo. We will be there at 10am on Saturday, so if you want to put a face to the words, please stop by. It's also a great way to get answers to those last-minute questions—I'm sure one of the others will be able to answer them : - )
With regards to the rest of this week, I plan to take things very easily and will do whatever I can to try and replenish lost energy. I personally won't be running a step this week, however my advice would be to get out for a short, low intensity run. If nothing else it will help alleviate the nervous tension. No long or fast runs though, basically, training is over. If it isn't in your body by now, it ain't going to be. My other recommendation is to get a pre-race massage to work out the kinks and aches. For the rest, hydrate, eat well, and I'll see you at the Expo and/or the start line. Please say "Hi" if you see me. I love to chat as I'm running as it helps the miles pass by. To help you spot me, I will be running in a Union Jack baseball cap and will have on the following shirt (rear view).
GOOD LUCK to everyone. Remember, "One foot in front of the other and your chest before your feet.”
October 2
There is no wall in Berlin
On Sunday, September 29 I participated in the 35th Berlin Marathon which, for many reasons, was my most enjoyable marathon experience to date. It was a record-breaking occasion as Haile Gebrselassie of Ethiopia shattered his own marathon world record set at last year’s Berlin race, running 2:03:59 and thus becoming the first man in history under 2:04 for the distance. I managed to stay with Mr. Gebrselassie for the first couple of feet, which must have worried him as he immediately stepped on the gas and was able to hold his lead for the next 26 miles, 384 yards and 10 feet to pip me to the post. Oh well. Better luck next time.
Here follows the long-winded report:
I arrived in Berlin late Friday night due to a flight delay out of London. By the time I got to the hotel with traveling companions Richard and Paula it was early Saturday morning and my plans to get a really good night’s sleep were well and truly scuppered (I always try to make the penultimate night before a marathon “The Big Sleep” as experience has told me that I probably won’t sleep well the night before the race due to nervous excitement). Despite the late hour we had a quick beer in the hotel bar to quench our thirsts but were unusually considerate and didn’t wake up Sean, who had checked into the hotel earlier in the day and was presumably already fast asleep.
Next morning Richard and Paula took themselves off on a sightseeing tour of the city to acquaint themselves with the best spectator places for the next day. Meanwhile Sean and I headed to the expo to pick up bibs and goody bags, buy essential marathon memorabilia, and immerse ourselves in the pre-marathon excitement. The expo was chaotic as such events often are (Chicago being one of the best organized that I’ve seen) and it took over 3 hours to collect everything.
After dropping our stuff at the hotel we met Paula and Richard at one of the few original pieces of the Berlin Wall still standing, close to the famous Potsdamer Platz. Richard and I had a merry time jumping backwards and forwards across the old demarcation line chanting “Ost Germany... West Germany… Ost Germany… West Germany...” We thought it the funniest thing ever although Paula and Sean’s opinions appeared to differ on this point.
After dinner we returned to the hotel and Paula and Richard headed to the bar for a night cap while Sean and I went off to do pre-race prep. I made it to bed by 9 p.m. in a vainly optimistic attempt to get a good night’s sleep but, unsurprisingly, this was not to be. At intervals throughout the night I read and responded to e-mails, and eventually managed a fitful doze for a few hours. In this I was fortunate as Paula was up all night being ill due to something that she ate at the restaurant. If Sean or I had eaten the same food, we would not have been running the next day – a lucky escape for us, not so lucky for Paula who was so drained that she wasn’t able to get out of bed until late the next day and missed most of the race.
Sunday morning I got up around 6:30 a.m., dressed and headed down breakfast. I love the scene in a hotel on marathon morning. It is always wonderfully energetic with lots of hyped-up runners talking in excited animated fashion. The only difference today was the number of different languages being spoken – I felt like I was at a meeting of the International Olympic Committee. As usual everyone else appeared to possess cast iron stomachs, unaffected by pre-race nerves, and were enthusiastically working their way through heaped plates of fruit, cold meats, cheeses, pastries, scrambled eggs, etc. Meanwhile I wrestled with my churning stomach and forced down a banana and a small bowl of cereal. Finally giving up, Sean and I headed to the S-bahn for the quick journey to the start arena. We helped a group of Italian runners sort out the train and got into a fun discussion about past marathons, personal bests and the like – pretty normal pre-race chatter, just with an international flair.
At the appropriate station the whole train disembarked, joining the countless thousands heading to the marshalling point. Everyone in the world seemed to be a runner. We camped out in the gardens of the beautifully restored Reichstag building and made our final preparations. At 8:40 we dropped our bags at gear check and headed toward the start. Fortunately for me, Sean had actually read the marathon information and knew that gear check was some distance from the actual start, through the woods and parkland of the Tiergarten. Despite this, it wasn’t long we were frantically jogging with hundreds of other runners, trying to find the start and worrying that we wouldn’t get to our assigned corral in time. This rapidly turned into a farce as we crashed through underbrush and trees, completely lost and getting more and more panicked. We eventually found the corrals with the runners lined up but to our dismay we were on the wrong side of, in order, a hedge, a large temporary fence, and a mid-height crowd control barrier. With the combined resources of runners from about 15 different countries we climbed through the hedge and managed to open up a section of the fence wide enough to pass through. It was now one minute to the official start and we just had the crowd control barrier to go. Unfortunately the press of runners in front made getting over the barrier impossible so we waited until the gun sounded and runners started to move, before we were able to scale the barrier and begin our race. I had turned up to run a marathon and an International 5k cross-country and obstacle race had broken out.
We were finally underway and things felt good. The rest of the day just got better and better.
The weather was almost perfect for running, about 65F and sunny with an occasional breeze that helped to cool things down. At times it felt a little warm but there were numerous opportunities to cool down through a mixture of fire-hoses, showers and iced water. Each runner received in their goody bag a personal sponge to carry with them for dipping into the troughs of iced water, which I thought was a nice touch. I stuck my sponge down the back of my shorts and promptly forgot about it until after the race when I sat down at the Hamlet Café where we met Paula and Richard to rehydrate “mitt ein gross bier bitte.”
I ran the first few miles with Sean but let him get ahead of me around mile 8 as I wanted to run a conservative race and keep something back for Chicago and New York. For the rest of the race I chatted to runners from various parts of Europe. By far the largest contingent, aside from Germany, was from Denmark. Everywhere I looked there were runners in red shirts with Danmark emblazoned across their chests. In addition, many thousands of spectators chanted and waved the Danish flag. I became convinced that there was no one left in their country and suggested to one red-shirted runner that the German/Danish border had a sign that stated, “We are out, back tomorrow.”
Although I tried to run a slow race, I was enjoying myself so much that my pace kept speeding up. This was especially the case when I got to the final kilometer and put in a sprint finish, thoroughly enjoying the moment as I ran under the Brandenburg Gate. In the end I finished the race in 3:38:10, which was conservative for me but still 20 minutes faster than I had intended – I fervently hope that I don’t pay for this in two weeks when I run Chicago.
This race was unique in another very special way. For the first time in 13 marathons I never hit “the wall”—at no point did I experience any discomfort or difficulties. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. As I read on one supporters’ banner at mile 18: “Don’t worry runners, in Berlin there is no wall.”