One last post - The Marathon. Or IS IT!!!!!
I hereby declare that what I say here is the truth, nothing but the truth, and an omission about a specific blister location.
Day 4 post marathon. I have been itchiing to remember the day, and tried hard to let some time pass so some refrection could happen, but not too long as to forget details of that day.
However, I am still as excited as I was the moment I finished that run so here goes a full recount of that day, in chronological order.
In my long runs through London I have been listening to a zillion of marathon advice podcasts, and learnt some things. One of these was to have a race plan (yeah, that's something that doesn't occur to me, generally), with contingencies, and visualise how to solve those situations without dipping into negativity. Similar advice was to have an Ideal race plan, where everything goes absolutely right, and a contingency race plan, someting to hit on if not feeling that great for whatever reason.
The Race plan
Ideal plan was to attempt a 4:15 to 4:30hrs marathon, based on my fitness and paces hit in workouts and pure mule-on-speed stubborness. This meant focusing on running an absolutely slow first half. The second half marathon would then be the 'real race', no distractions, increasing pace slowly but surely, and treating the last 10km as a10km race with enough left in tank for something resembling a sprint in the last km. I had memorised the food and water points in the second half, so to not waste time dithering about whether to halt or bypass some of them.
Perceived problems were:
- the sleep situation the week before, and whether I was fully rested for a good push.
- enough water in hydration bag so I don't stop at all water points and sip to need (I found I didn't need the loo whenever I did this in the past, as opposed to gurgling a cup of water at once).
- stomach going funny at Gel #6
- the unknown of the scary WALL . Never experienced it (when/how to?), listened anxiously to all the warnings about it, prepared for it, worked at pushing it further than 42.2km.
- the right hip flexor cramping. I've had that in my 30km runs, and it was disconcerting.
- the shoes and my feet not getting along after km25.
The contingency Race plan
Easier to sketch out: just enjoy the run , the day, soak in everything, but do make sure I'm not too distracted to lag behind the broom wagon (not an euphemism) .
6:30AM
Wake up call from hotel reception. I didn't need it, as I woke naturally at 6:15am (or 5:15 am UK time). Expeptional feat of foresight from me, practicing this 2 weeks prior to today.
I had prepared from last evening a chronological mental list of things to do in the morning, so I can move through it mindlessly.
7:00am - hotel breakfast. I have 30minutes to stuff my face and then stuff my face some more, as per advice of marathon world outthere. But I am here 15 minutes early, so I decide to do all this with headphones with music on, and one final browse through the marathon brochure. But my phone beeps with messages, which make me so happy, and I reply to them, and do a to and fro from the buffet to my table with coffee and all sorts of food. I keep on eating with my eyes on my phone and when I look up there is this lady in running gear already ( probably her coral starts before mine) who looks at me wide-eyed. I smile back politely, what a wonderful day, then the penny drops - that plate scrambled eggs and bun weren't mine, my plate was at the table to the right. So I appologise and try to make a joke of it, saying somothing about focus and nervousness, but that lady didn't think it was funny. I again am so sorry I disturbed her morning thing.
7:30 - back in the room ; have got until 8 - 8:20am to dress, make pretty, and head to the underground. My coral starts at 10:05 and the advice is to be there at least one hour before. So I start dressing, attach my race bib, have a little foam roller action on my right thigh; I then decide I should really fill in the emergency contact info on the back of my bib, just in case, be it a bad omen or not. I faff about with packing my drop-in bag (was allowed to take one bag to be stored there with things I wanted/needed after the race). I stuff my hydrobag's pockets with my gels and the rest of it. I REMEMBER to attach the timing chip to my shoe. Without race bib, bracellet and chip, there is no marathon. Lacing my shoe back on, nervousness dawned on me. This is it! I also remember to apply vaseline to if-you-know-you-know-but-not-there-you-pervert . I don't know how, but I look at the time and it's 8:40 am . I shoud have been out by 8:25!
Sche[]sse!!
Eins, zwei, Polizei, let's go!!
8:40AM
Sprint mode. Lift comes quickly. I leave key with Reception. Do a shuffle walk-run to metro, to conserve energy ha. On platform, 6 minutes wait. Train comes. It's stuffed with runners. I sneak in. Apart from groups that know eachother, nobody is talking. I find this intimidating a little. We get off at Branderbug Tor. I follow the crowd to the right of the gate, then through to the restricted area. A lot of walking, but buzzing. Sunny morning, fresh, some puffy clouds, no wind. Absolutely beautiful weather for running. I make my way through that field and join the Bag drop -in queue. Relieved, because it's 9:1..something and there is plenty of time until my 10:05 start!. Even I , ofcourse, can't stop noticing that the person in front of me has a drop-in bag dangling from their shoulder. I do not. I forgot mine at the hotel.
Sche[]sse!!
Drei, vier, Grenadier, oh well! nothing necessary to run in that bag! But my beloved Niquitin was there. Double Scheisse. I whatsapp Gulz with a list of things to bring me at meet up point after race (warm clothes, bananas, flip-flops).
I decide on stretching a bit watching the huge screens that broadcast the race. Kipchoge started, cameras on the elite runners, loud music as if a rave. The athmosphere is infectious.
I have to walk quite a bit to my coral. I decide to use the toilet before, as who knows! Plenty toilets, so so many! and so so many runners in looooong queues to the toilets! Apparently over 40 000 in all today. So, there were queues. I am gutted I chose a high-vis top so couldn't just go in a bush. Many did that, but many more queued properly. So I join this queue, which seems to go fast, then very slow, then faster again. I start to talk to the people around me. Everyone cheerful, nervous, excited, and above all, needing the toilet. A lot of pressure n the air. The queue starts applauding and cheering whoever comes out of the toilet.
9:50AM
Still queuing. My coral starts in 15 mins. It seems that I'll make it by the skin of my teeth. The comfort is that my new friends with the same needs had the same problem, starting from the same coral, so I am not alone.
10:08AM
I sprint out of the disgusting portaloo, but much lighter! A teeny weeny bit of flustering sets in, so I run to my coral that started 3 minutes ago. It's easy to get there, albeit a bit of a distance, as all is marked and loads of volunteers pointing you the same way. One of my new friends catches me from behind. We run together to the start line. The staff allow us in. Behind us, 50ish metres back, the wide and empty road for a good 50metres at least, until a barrier of volunteers holding hands in front of the next coral of people. We have made it to our coral! Fast walk, chugga chugga shuffle shuffle, through the start line and that's it!!!! We're in!!
10:10 approx: Passed the Start line , moved by the wave of people. This is almost an anticlimax, one of those confusing moments that identifies an event, is immortalised and shared through media, but that is part of a process which in real life blends it in and mutes its contours. Huge screen showing everyone passing live, with huge smiles , hands up and exuberance. I am beyond myself with incredulity for actually being here. My new friend who is aiming for a 4hrs wishes me goodluck, and we start to do our own thing.
I am amongst the last in this huge group of people - when I look back, just a handful behind me, and empty road, since the next coral starts in 20minutes now. In front of me, a humoungous ammount of runners, a colourful moving swirming entity of legs and tops, seemingly shimering in popping up and down in their running gait, and some pacers' flags popping up here and there. Incredible cheering from the sides this sunny fresh early Sunday morning. And so it starts!That's it, that's what this is about. I look at the blue road markings in front of me feet - the ones drawn for Kipchige&his mates , and am surprised (?) to be here. On an early Sunday morning, after all this faff and bravado and noise, here I am, on my own proper, on this road.
KM 1-5
Somehow I find myself in rhythm with the 4:00 pacer and their group that I reached from behind. It feels easy , fresh, I oogle around me, I videocall my mum to show her a live view from the middle of it. She urges me to go slow, and hang up and relax so I don't run out of breath. The course is so flat, and I feel some downwards inclines, along with cheeky uphill ones towards the bridges crossing the water or other streets. At some point I notice that the runners around me are going slowly and I overtake too much. I decide to slow down and follow my race plan.
KM 5 - 10
Very easy hopping forward really, reached a group that is hard to pass as quite dense, but who cares.
I spot a person with a balloon punch bag printed with a portrait of Putin all bruised, with the instruction 'Punch Putin'. I slow down and join the queue for that, a bit of upper arms work never hurts. The course is so wide and flat, with slight undulations on and off the bridges. I videocall some people again, to show them around and take loadsd of photos and little videos. Somewhere along this segment I use the toilets by the water and snacks areas. mind, and I don't bother to loop towards the sides to go in front of people. What's the point, no rush!
I call Gulz to find out where might they meet me on whe course. As I hang up, I spot them on the left at around 11o'clock!! They too spot me, and the rest is just fuzzy excitement and love and cuddles.. I'm so happy Tara and Nick are there too, even if they seemed a bit unlabanced and smelling of alcohol after a night of what happens in Berlin stays in Berlin, I'm sure. Just Jokkkking....
KM 10 -15
They go in a blur.
The sun is shinning, the weather is not hot at all, the noise from people by the course is so fun.
At around km12 at a super
wide roundabout where the track was turnign to the right, I hear my name called loudly and repeatedly , it's my gang
again and I go to them. I kiss again my smelly boys, I eat some of
their cookies which they protest, then Gulz reminds me to keep going and
not stop for too long.
KM 15- 20
Again, somewhere around km 15, another feeding station. DOn't mind if I do.. I have some banana pieces, again some water although I am not that thirsty as I have sipped from my rucksack bag, and I decide to use the toilet.. all that water has to go somewhere. The portaloos are filthy if you look with a keen eye, but only because of rushed overuse, not because of pigsty mentality. I am grateful for my little sanitiser gel I've tucked in in one of my pockets.
After this, I am on cruise mode , waiting things out until the half marathon mark. It is all so glorious! All those drums, bands on the sides of the track, they are exactly like what I've seen on youtube on video logs from previous Berlin marathons, but 1000000 times better seen in real life. I get goose pimples from excitement, I stop along with other runners to dance a bit to their rhythms. The music from spectators was awesome: there was progressive house, drum beats, jazz, rock, blues. There were people with little stands offering free cakes and snacks, vegan or not, all sorts. Ofcourse I sampled as many as I could.
At km 20 another water station was in sight. I needed water, after all that snacking. So I drink a cup, then refill my backpack, go to the toilet (yes), and keep going. I feel so relaxed, legs are springy, heartrate is aerobic on the lower side, and I wonder howcome the 20km runs at home felt so difficult - it's probably because I am so immersed in the athmosphere here, it's hard not to, and my attention is totally out of my body. But when I focus on myself, I am pleased to notice how comfortable I am . the only niggle is the right hip flexor and right hip abductor. I see some runners have already started to stop on the side here and there to stretch a bit, and decide that maybe I should do the same, to prepare to the unknown after km30. So I limber up here and there on the side, then rejoin the course.
Somewhere between here and half marathon I wonder whether I should listen to my pumping music in the second half of the race. I decide to wait it out as it seems a pity not to pay attention to Berlin on the track live.
KM 22. something - Half marathon
What's to do now?
Fillming things, going for a faster time, being able to walk the next day, or taking in everything?
KM 25- 30
The pavement is cobbled, the roads are narrower, the leafy shady road-side trees many many more, the greens so many, along the road, the residential areas quirkier, with more character. No Brutalski and heir digger demolished noting in this side of Berlin after WW2.
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I realise I haven't heard from Gulz in a while. Surprised. I call him, he's a bag of cats , not able to shift the kids from the playground or the Zoo- whatever, to come see me again. At that moment, it felt like pure abandonment and betrayal, the only fantasy that calmed me down was signing the divorcce papers with a few choice words for not "being there for me". I even shed a little tear. The audacity.. the cruelty.. Listen, I was tired even if I thought I wasn't. I was wrong. Poor guy a impacat si capra si varza (pleased opposing interests) all day.
KM 30 -35
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I see the KM30 sign. That's where my mental barrier is. The unknown. The irrational fears of my heart giving up and not seeing my kids grow. I am still incapable, even after covering the previous km, to predict/ offer a calculated guess of what my legs and heart will do. In short, I do not know my body in this way, and I do not trust it to push it up a notch, more than necessary. But all at the same time, I am happy again, aware of where I am, enchanted and excited and so grateful I am getting to experience this race. I am part of something so big, so beautiful, that's made by the thousands of the little things like me as well. The camaraderie, the laughter and chat amongst this little group floating around me, the cheering from the sides, the tram drivers running on the parralel track to the road, but on the opposite direction, with their smart phones up recording this bit in their ittinerary . It is exhilarating.
And the next bit is the only regret I have: that I did not take a photo of Lars and Nicholas ( they said, maybe they were givingme fake names) massaging each one each of my legs, whilst I laid on a recliner with a cup of tea and some banana chuncks. I had noticed with the corner of my eye a sign for volunteers offering sport massages, so I turned back and spent the best part of 15 minutes having a leg massage. By my calculations, I'd get a medal anyway, so why rush.
From here to the end of the race
A blur of cheering, modern city landscape, coka cola , Branderburg gate, last 100m stretch (one of the most vibrant and vibing of my life), passing through the place mats at Finish Line, bursting into crying, looking back, meandering through the people all grinning, bumping into my new friend from South Africa for whom Berlin was the 40th or something marathon, that I had met at the Expo and whose single piece of advice for a beginner like me had been "just keep going, put one foot in front of the other", collecting my goodie bag, meeting the husband and kids by the metro station at the gate, doing some cheering, separating the kids from fighting, letting them eat the goodies from my goodie bag, carrying Leo on my hip almost all the way to my hotel because "he was tired", going for dinner with family and not finding any table as we did not book, eventually meeting this American couple who just arrived in Berlin and invited us to their table, having a very rich, unexpected dinner (in food and conversation), having finally that beer back at the hotel, and crawling to bed at 12am as definitely drunk, definitely tired, definitely spent, and with my heart definitely very full.
So all in all, the take away points for me all in all have been:
1. jeez, planted seeds do sprout and grow, even with minimal (but consistent) nourishment.
2. there is such a thing as joy through others
3. perfectionism is a trap that stops many ( I speak for myself) from "why not"-ing an idea. I would have absolutely definitely not even considered this idea if it came from myself. I am so grateful to Tara for this, she can't begin to know how much good she's done to me with her infectious enthusiasm and "why not" views of tings and all.
4. you get what you put in, yes, but you also get what you have the courage to look for
5. running or no running, consistent yoga or whatever mevements for strenghtening abs and back, hips knees etc are as necessary as food and drink. Ain't no spring chicken no more.
- I typed this post back in September, but I never uploaded it as new things happened and spell-checking felt like a drag. Meanwhile, I've entered again the lottery for the Berlin maraton 2023 , thinking that if I will get in, I will just run it, and if I don't, then well, I will not run it - plenty other races to do, places to see, people to meet. But I did get in, and realised I should close the loop on this Berlin 2022 jounrey as I had promised to myself that I would.
At this point , there are 296 days and 11 hours until the race. I have already booked the hotel (the earlier, the better and cheaper the hotel). So, there goes, the next Berlin, and I cannot wait to go and enjoy it again. I have a secret hope that Tara would be able to recover her deferred place from this year and run/walk/laugh/love it with me. Fingers crossed
Crossing these fingers really hard.
Readdy , really hard.
Break a leg, everything.
|Maybe I'll take up praying.
Tara 🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀
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