It’s been over two months since running the Berlin Marathon and I’m just now getting around to writing about it. Mostly in part because in wasn’t a great race for me (in fact it was miserable) and I hadn’t felt like recapping it. But I think there are positives that can be taken from the experience and I would like to be able to look back on it and remind myself how strong and resilient I truly was that day.
I always tell the runners I coach to control what you can because on race day so many things are out of our control. You cannot control the number of people. You cannot control the runners around you. You cannot control the weather, but you can control how you dress for the weather. But there is no way to dress for 26. 2 miles through sunny, 80 degree heat with no shade (well unless you are Harry Styles and a long sleeve black shirt!!! is the way to go). There is no reprieve. I was not happy when I saw the predicted weather conditions for the race. I do not like summer training. My training this summer was abysmal. I thought I was finished with those slow, miserable slogs through the humidity and that Berlin would be a refreshing change. I could not have been more wrong.
I did not have a time goal for this race though I was curious to see what I could do on this flat, fast course compared to my Boston race. Summer training aside, other factors also impacted my training. I started the build with a knee injury and had to take some time off. It took a lot longer than I thought it would for my iron to recover after donating blood, making my runs feel so. much. harder. Side note; do not donate blood during marathon training. I did it for the free Goodrs so maybe it was worth it? You runners understand. Anyway, I wasn’t really feeling like myself in terms of running until a few weeks out from the race.
I arrive in Berlin and despite feeling undertrained I couldn’t help but be caught up in the excitement. The city was alive with runners and there was a sense of camaraderie. I hit the expo and spend some time exploring the city. The next morning I ran the 5K and I never had so much fun in a race! I took it easy since the marathon was the next day so was able to enjoy the sights around me. I took in the crowds and was beginning to think maybe the marathon would be ok. Once again, I could not have been more wrong. The night before the race I barely slept. I woke feeling heavy and fatigued and not at all ready to run. I honestly did not want to even start, but I made my way to the start line and it was hard not to get swept up in the hype. The crowd, the music, the noise. I knew I would have to adjust my plan. Take it slow and easy. Enjoy the scenery and take in energy from the crowds. But just maybe it would be ok (narrator: it was not ok).
From the very beginning everything just felt wrong. It’s hard to explain. I was already sweating from standing in the hot sun and my legs felt heavy. My heart rate was higher and breathing more labored than it should have been. I knew no matter how easy I took it, this was not going to be an easy run. I made it through the first 10K relatively unscathed but was shocked at the aggression of some of the runners on the course. I was deliberately pushed out of the way several times at water stops. I was pushed to the side at one point when a runner was trying squeeze between me and a runner next to me. I had never experienced behavior like this in a race before and was actually concerned I might get hurt (though that would have given me a great excuse to stop running, ha!). The water stops were crazy too. Hundreds and hundreds of plastic cups on the ground that are quite loud when being stepped on, and quite slippery. The water stops were definitely hazardous.
I managed to keep a consistent pace that I was content with through mile 9 and then though I slowed a bit was still hanging in until the halfway point. Then it started to fall apart. I started thinking of things I would much rather be doing than continuing to run. Dentist, gynecologist, mammogram, colonoscopy were all things that would not have been as bad as finishing this race. At mile 16 I was really ready to quit. I was feeling awful. I had stopped at every water stop and drank from my hydration vest (which I typically do not wear during races) and run through every shower that they had set up to help combat the heat. They also had tea at the stops. Something I never ever drank while on the run. But boy did that tea sound good to me. So I did something you should never do, tried something new on race day. But I figured how much worse could it get? And that was the best tea I ever had.
I moved into some sort of run/walk but for a bit it was more like a shuffle/walk. But I forced myself to keep going. After all, I bought the finisher shirt and jacket that I wanted to be able to wear and I wanted that damn medal! It’s amazing what motivates you when you just want to curl up and quit. And also, as always, I had Ariella on my back. She endured so much worse and rarely complained about it. I could get through 10 more miles. Somehow I rallied and was running more than walking. I was wearing my Maryland flag headband and spotted other Marylanders. Was nice to meet and chat and commiserate with them as a distraction for some miles. I made it to mile 20. “Only” 6 more to go. At my current pace that was close to another. freaking. hour. That final 10k is a blur. Somehow I ticked off the miles. Just keep going. I didn’t go that far to only go that far. At that point I would crawl across the finish line if I had to. My knee was nagging me and my calf started cramping. My bib was getting shredded from all the sweat (had to repin it several times). Less than a mile to go. There it is ahead. Bradenburg Gate. Still 400m to go after getting through the gate. That finish line is so far away. But I’m going to make it. That is when I broke down sobbing. Tears of relief that I could soon stop running. Tears of disappointment that I did not have the race I wanted. Tears because I always just cry. I finally crossed that line, collected my medal, and went off to grab my gear and lick my wounds.
The fact that I continued, that I didn’t quit just goes to show how much running is a mental game. I would argue equal to the physical. If this was a local race, I would have quit, no question. But that wasn’t an option for me in Berlin. So I had to continually tell that part of my brain that was begging me to quit, to shut up. I chanted over and over, just get to the next mile. Then the next one. At times the distance I had to get to was much shorter. Breaking it up into smaller chunks made it feel much more manageable. I always had the option of stopping. But first I would have to make it to the corner. Or the next water stop, etc. Put all those shorter distances together and somehow you get to the finish.
My hotel was on the race course about a mile from the finish. After I got back and showered, and rewarded myself with ice cream, I cheered on the final runners. And my perspective shifted. These runners had been out there almost 6 hours. Talk about grit and determination. I wasn’t happy with my race but these runners were worried about making the cut-off to officially finish and get their well earned medal. Imagine running that long and being swept by the bus, told you can’t finish. Yet they kept going. I stayed out there until the final runner came through. The time didn’t matter. We all ran the same 26.2 (26.5 according to my Garmin) miles in adverse conditions.
Ultimately this was the hardest race I’ve done and I wish I was able to enjoy it more. But now that I’ve had time to reflect it’s the one I’m most proud of because despite the pain and discomfort I gutted it out and crossed that finish line. And then got to celebrate at Oktoberfest. All in all a great experience.
