Drums beating, whistles blowing, bells ringing – a din of noise, human emotion spilling over from the crowds into the thousands of runners coming to the end of their marathon.
This was what months, perhaps years, have been about for so many.
The iconic Brandenburg Gates, the home straight of the Berlin Marathon, had just come into view.
I’m quite a reserved person in general, shying away from drawing any attention, but I couldn’t keep it in any longer.
I let out an almost primal roar; this was it. I’d done it. I’d finally executed the race I wanted in a marathon.
I’d broken the narrative that ‘I’m just not very good at marathons’.
I hadn’t crashed and burned spectacularly; I could finally put my experience at the Brighton Marathon earlier this year behind me.
It was the culmination of a great weekend in the German capital; an experience that I’ll never forget and why I’ll keep chasing these moments, putting my heart and soul into them in the process.
I’d had the solid run that I wasn’t sure I was capable of over the marathon distance. I dialled into a pace of around 4.50-minute kilometres (7.50-minute miles) and only occasionally checked my watch the whole way round.
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There had been minimal stress in getting to the start line and I found it amusing to see the chaos unfolding at the fact there didn’t seem to be enough toilets to serve the near 48,000 runners. With plenty of tree cover in Tiergarten then I probably don’t need to draw you diagram of what a lot of runners were doing…
From the first mile I was comfortable and relaxed, concentrating on fuelling and appreciating some of the sights around Berlin.
I had adopted a carbohydrate drink alongside gels strategy that I had practiced in my training runs. It seemed to be working well until I started to feel a little queasy just before the 10K point. However, I knew that I just needed some water to settle things down and so it proved. The cup situation wasn’t ideal, but I kept in mind the advice I was given the day before at the marathon briefing provided by Sports Tours International; ‘if you can’t get it in you, get it on you…’
I normally work in miles but the fact the distance markers were in kilometres felt helpful. Every five minutes or so I’d chalk up a little mental ‘win’ and plough on, constantly assessing how I was feeling and what I needed.
Halfway through I got my first sense of tiredness, things were starting to ache a little and I felt a little tightness in my hip, which was new. I felt chilled about it though and within a couple of kilometres the discomfort had gone. It’s amazing how quickly things can change during the course of a marathon for better or worse.
The kilometres continued to tick by, and I emerged through the 20s relatively unscathed.
At 32K, the ‘halfway point’ for many, I checked my watch and saw that briefly my current pace had slipped to 5:15-minutes per kilometre.
‘You’re fine Mark, you don’t need to slow down’.
I regained my concentration and managed to get back on pace but by 35K it was starting to pinch a little.
‘This is how it’s supposed to feel; how much do you want it?’ I asked myself.
I managed to maintain pace but by 37K I had a decision to make. I felt quite sick and knew that I needed more fuel, but could I risk taking on another gel?
I got to a drinks station and managed to get a decent amount of water in my mouth (not easy by this point).
It settled things enough that I was able to push on: ‘I’ve got this,’ I told myself.
At 40K I finally dared to increase the pace a little; whatever happened from here I knew I could tough it out.
Adrenaline coursed through every limb; I turned the corner and there they were – the Brandenburg Gates – around a kilometre to go.
The noise was deafening, I was one big ball of joy and relief.
As I crossed the finish line, I took a look at my watch: 3:26:40 – everything I could have realistically asked for.
All of my Wymondham AC club mates had similar positive experiences, not least my wife, Alison.
She agonised in the weeks leading up to Sunday whether to go for a sub three-hour marathon. Even on the way to the start line we were discussing her strategy. Should she go for 3:10 and bank a Championship start for the London Marathon or should she really roll the dice?
I’m so proud that she went for it and came home in 2:59:14 – an unbelievable performance.
It put the icing on the cake of a wonderful weekend that we’ll both always remember.
Alison showed she belongs among the elite whilst I proved to myself that I can run a decent marathon.
Job done. Thank you, Berlin – we might just have to come back again one day…
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