Amsterdam marathon 2016

YESSSSS!!!!!

It happened! No injury, no cramps, no hitting the wall, and most things as planned (except the negative split, which became very positive). And it was SO worth it!!! All those months of training, all that worrying, and all the things I was whining about in earlier posts... it was totally worth it!

The week before the race: A sore throat makes me very worried throughout the week. I take the advice of experienced friends and do not run a single meter during the last 7 days. Just rest and drink a lot of lemon juice, hoping for the cold to go away. I am not sure whether this makes things sub-optimal or just perfect. My hamstrings are pretty tight, and perhaps they also need these 7 days to relax and loosen.  My body keeps playing games with me, and makes up new pains here and there, trying everything to prevent the coming hazardous event.

The day before the race: Our big group from Bergen meets at the airport in the morning and we travel together to Amsterdam. For the first time in a long while I feel great, and eager to run.  Arriving at the hotel in Amsterdam I meet my dear friend Berna from Istanbul. We have been looking forward to meeting and running this marathon together, and it is so good to see her. Like at Bergen City half marathon, she joins our Bergen group for the social events. We go and collect our start numbers, we have two carbohydrate heavy meals, and I go to bed at 10 pm, a little later than planned.

The morning of the race: Up early. Frank, Berna and I do not want a hotel breakfast. We have brought a lot of instant oatmeal, which is my standard pre-race meal, and we have that with coffee. I don't feel great and eager to run anymore. We go early to the Olympic Stadium, where the start is. It turns out to be a good idea, as there are long queues at the toilets. A last pre-race energy bar and a last sip of red beet juice. Ready but not enthusiastic. Fortunately, Berna has loads of positive energy, some of it transfers to me as well.

Minutes before the start: I am in my start group, warming up, jumping up and down. The feeling is strange. So incredibly many people. I am alone, Frank and Berna are in different groups. I expect my friends from Bergen to be in the same group as Frank. Suddenly "Ten Feet Tall" starts playing on the loudspeakers. I take this as a good sign. Just before start, my good friend Ove finds me in the crowd and wishes me luck. So happy to discover that I am not all alone. I get a little bit more strength. Still not really up to this, but hey, we start moving, and suddenly I am running! As I pass below the start sign I push the start button of my watch. "God, please don't let this become a big embarrassment..."

First 10 kilometers: I have a plan aiming for a finish time around 4 hours. The plan is to start with pace 5:53, then go to 5:46, 5:41, and then decrease pace to 5:34 after the 29th kilometer. For every pace, there is a matching heart rate that I am not suppose to go above. I try to take it easy for the first kilometers, I run much slower than the 4 hrs balloon, but still my pace ends up around 5:40, a little too fast. Heart rate is fine, though, so I don't worry too much about this. I keep an average of 5:45 pace for this piece, heart rate is fine, legs feel good, but I have a feeling of limbo. It is difficult to describe. For the first time in my life, I am participating in a race which I am not sure to be able to finish.

10-15 km: I need music. I was planning to save it for later, not use all my ammunition at once, but I want it now. I put it on at around 12 km. At 13th km, at the tunes of "I need a hero",  I suddenly feel a rush of positive energy. The pace is still 5:45, heart rate is perfect, and I start feeling that this might go well. I become very emotional, and even a few teardrops fall.  It is like it first hits me now: "I am actually running a marathon!!!". The parts of the course I was dreading are much more enjoyable than I was expecting. I am entertained, kilometers pass fast.

15-20 km: We are by a river, there is no shade from the sun. I find this part a bit too monotonous. I take an energy gel before every single water station, and slow down to take two cups of water at each of them. I swallow a cramp-fix tablet, too. I look forward to these water stations and they seem to come quicker and quicker, which is a good sign.

20-25 km: The other side of the river. A strong smell of agricultural fertilizer feels disturbing. I try to concentrate on other things. So many different types of people, so many various body shapes, ages, clothes, running styles, costumes, shoes... I am amused. It feels great to pass 21.1 km, although my watch shows 21.3. I prepare myself that I will be running 42.5 km instead of 42.2. My pace worsens a little, it is around 5:50 now, and half-way time is a minute behind schedule. Heart rate is good, I feel fine, so I am not worried. I am counting on that passing half way will give renewed energy.

25-30 km: Around me people are starting to walk. Already?? Some of them stop completely. To stretch a bit, and then they try to continue. I am supposed to speed up now, but it is impossible. Heart rate is still pleasant, and I have the energy, but legs are becoming stiff in a strange way. It is as if there is a thin layer of wet concrete on them that is slowly hardening. At some point pace is as bad as 6:45 and 7, and I am getting worried. But I manage to bring it up to closer to 6. Below 6 seems impossible now, and I am a little hesitant to push harder yet.

30-35 km: I am dreading the 35th km. I have heard so many stories of people having to stop exactly at this point. This is supposed to be the distance where many different mechanisms kick in, and I have never run this far before. Passing 34 feels nice, I am now farther than I have ever run before. 35 comes, I take my gel, nothing happens. Things are steady, no wall, no injury, no big pain, I am OK. I am now pretty confident that I will finish decently. But I also swear "I will never do this again". People are dropping like flies around me. I had read about this beforehand, but I am still surprised by the extent of it. It is motivating and demotivating at the same time. What if something suddenly happens to me, too?

35-40 km: It is now a struggle to keep the pace as close to 6 as possible: I drop to 6:20s 6:30s. I am amazed that it is not possible to go faster when my heart rate is so low. I want to push it to above 160, but my legs won't let me. I have never raced with so pleasant HR before. Did I start too easy? Too hard? Or perhaps just perfect, and this is simply unavoidable with respect to my amount of training? "Negative split, my ass" I am thinking now. What was that pace calculator making me believe? Every time I try to push a little harder, there is something that feels like the start of something that can stop me completely, so I rather concentrate on keeping things under control. It is pretty tough now. I had imagined that I would be so happy at 36 km, just 6 left. But the feeling at this point is far from happiness. People are screaming "Bravo", "You are a hero", etc. I can hardly concentrate. I hear my name being shouted several times. People are so nice, they read the names on the start numbers and shout them out. I was smiling to such things earlier in the race, but I have hard time smiling now.

40 km - finish: We are in the park. "Come on, less than the distance around Store Lungegårdsvannet is left now" I tell myself. I also remind myself that it was much more painful at the last kilometers of Oslo half marathon. Surprisingly there is a water station just 2 km before finish. Why not? I also drink there. People are stopping. So many people walking now. Some quitting. So close to the finish?? More spectators, more cheering. They want to give me a high five. I have no energy to respond. Then I see the "500 meters to finish" sign and to my surprise I start smiling really big. Almost laughing. I enter the stadium, it says "175 meters". Really? That long still?? Last meters are the longest but I am running whereas most people are walking, or rather limping. 50 meters left. My right hand folds to a fist and goes up in the air. Surprising, that, too. I pass the finish line with my right fist punching the air above my head. The watch says 4:17:18.

After finish: My friends and Frank have been waiting for me. So many hugs. My goodness I am so lucky. So many pictures. We get our medals. I want to lie down. Frank is in worse shape than me. He was struggling with serious cramps for the last 7 km. We lie down a bit and relax. Getting down to the ground is hard. Knees won't bend. Fortunately no injuries or no big pain anywhere for any of us. We all finish healthy. Our dedicated training pays off. I am so happy. I have no more to say. I am so happy.

Who knows? Maybe I will do it again after all ;-)