It's the Last ,195 That Really Gets You

A little bit of marathon kilometer humor for you to get this Berlin Marathon recap going. I'm now a bit out of order on these posts, but I felt like writing about the marathon today, so this is what you get. It's my blog, and I'll do what I want!

To clarify the title, a marathon is 26.2 miles which is the equivalent of 42,195 kilometers (the Germans like to put commas where we sometimes put decimal points because why should anything ever be agreed upon among all peoples and languages). To be truthful, I have to say it was really just the last 32,195 km that were rough. My training was subpar at best, and I was still fighting the dregs of a miserable respiratory infection on race day. Nevertheless, I was pretty excited to begin my first international marathon.

Sun rising over the Reichstagsgebäude with the Fersehturm in the background.

Having run the Big Sur Marathon in Monterey and now the Berlin Marathon here, I have to say that I really enjoy running a race in my hometown. Not only is it helpful to have a sense of exactly where you are on the course because you actually get to train on the course, but it is nice to sleep in one's own bed and make one's own dinner the night before. Surprises and new things are fun, just not always in the days before running for 3.5 hours.

Blue lines marking the route...about 250m from our building.
(Also, it should be noted, a fine job of branding by adidas)

I'll spare you the boring details about the marathon expo, save for three factoids:

Great idea to take a wide entrance to the only place
everyone has to go and narrow it with a fake
Brandenburger Tor.

1. The walk from the entrance to the number pick-up booth was approximately one mile, weaving through vendors and other runners, but at least I knew I had a free shirt at the end of it.
2. There was no free shirt. This, as any runner will tell you, is one of the main perks of running a race. It was particularly shocking when one considers that this is one of the World Marathon Majors. Less diplomatically, it was total bullshit.
3. Another major draw of the marathon expo is the free samples and swag one can always expect...except here in Berlin it would seem. The only free thing I got was a plastic cup of full of room temperature Berlin water. Hey, I needed it after the trek through the expo hall and to prepare for the trek back out.

Fortunately, I had a day of recovery between my expo trip and race day. So when I woke up on Sunday morning, I felt as ready as I could feel. As I mentioned earlier, my training was miserable, both in quality and quantity. It seemed that if I wasn't sick, I was injured. A nasty Achilles tendinitis kept me chained to the bike trainer in my living room for about a month. After Ironman training, I would have been fine going another 10-67 years not seeing that thing, but alas, it gave me the ability to keep semi-fit while I waited (like the good patient that I'm usually not) to be able to take a step without stabbing pain in the back of my heel. Resting a lower-extremity injury is a significant challenge when living in a city like Berlin where we walk almost everywhere. I got one good 20-miler in instead of the three I usually do before a marathon, but I thought that given the flat course and perfect weather, it wouldn't be too terrible...I was mostly right. We also took a little bit of time out on Saturday afternoon to check out the in-line skating marathon. It was awesome. I am trying to convince Neil to do it next year...not making much progress, but I'm not giving up.

See? I wasn't making it up.

I love the start area of a big marathon. Forty-thousand people all waiting around to get their run on. It is generally like a big party except everyone has a super fun nervous energy, and almost no one is drunk. I always like chatting with other people, but it was different here as no one knew what language anyone spoke. The NY marathon has a very international flavor, but you're in America, so people assume that English is the best common language. I will take this opportunity to make another note. The NY marathon is practically overrun with the Dutch. There are countless towering people dressed in orange, singing Dutch songs and cheers. In the words of James Tarone circa 2008, "The Dutch are insufferable." Here in Berlin, it was the troupe from Denmark that ruled the roost. Large groups of men and women in red and white gear with large Denmark flags and face paint abounded. I have to say though, that the French and Italians were out in force, and the Dutch couldn't be stifled either. It is at an event like this when I truly realize that the United States is sorely lacking in clever and catchy nationalistic chants. I mean, "U!S!A!" on repeat is nice, but we've got nothing on the Europeans. Nevertheless, as the sun continued to rise, and the emcee counted down the minutes until the start of the race, people began ditching their warm clothes and inching toward the start. I chatted with a group of Frenchmen and a woman from Brazil (in English), and as the gun went off and the balloons were let go, we all wished each other a good race and off we went.

Runners as far as the eye can see.

Ready to run!

Balloons and the Siegessäule in the distance.

The course was amazing...flat and scenic through the city. The weather could not have been better. It was a clear day with temperatures that every runner dreams of. I knew Neil and his parents would be waiting/cheering near the start, at the 9K mark, and around the 20-mile mark...within sight of our building. I figured at this point, they may have to shove me back on the course as prospect of just walking home might be too good to resist.

300 meters in...feeling strong.

I was mostly correct in my assessment of how I would feel at various points through the race. After I saw my cheerleaders at 9K, I settled into a comfortable pace and began the real grind. Marathon running is a funny thing, especially in a big race like this. There are other runners and spectators everywhere. With thirty-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine other  people, the pack really never thins out. For me there are times when I can really feed off of the energy of the crowd and fellow racers and then 5 minutes later, it is as though no one else is around and I'm just on another training run, waiting for it to be over. 

9K. Note tall Danish man behind me.

~20 miles...trying not to look like I want to veer
sharply to the right and go home.

Don't get me wrong. Training or no, this range of emotion happens during every race. I have to admit though, that the miserably-waiting-for-it-to-be-over part started a lot earlier than it normally does. As the race went on, I tried to calculate in my head how fast I was going and how much longer I had to keep going and what my finish time might be (that took about 1.5K). Then I realized that at some point my pace would probably slow, and I tried to decide whether or not I should slow myself down more at that point or if I could push it a bit longer (another 2K down). My main motivation to keep going is always that if I walk, it will only prolong my misery. I wasn't kidding when I mentioned earlier that it was only the last 32,195K that was particularly trying. As I ran past U-Bahn stops, I thought about how nice it would be to just jog down the stairs and take the train home. Then I thought about how I would have to write a blog post about my first DNF and how I ran the NY Marathon with a broken toe, and what kind of excuse could I possibly make to justify stopping. That is when the motivational speeches/cursing at myself began (another 5K behind me). At that point, I was just about to the 20-mile mark, and I knew I would be able to squeeze about 2.5K out of the energy surge of seeing Neil and his parents again at which point, I would only have a few miles left. I did a lot of mile-kilometer math. I have grown accustomed to mile markers and judging my pace and how I feel based on how many miles I've run and how many I have left. The nice thing about kilometers is that the markers come up a lot more frequently, so you really feel like you're getting somewhere. The problem is that I had to really think about where I was and how fast I could continue to run and when I could make that last big push to the finish (which killed another 4K and had me at the 41K mark). Most of the time, I can kick it up a notch and have a nice strong finish, but alas, that was not the case. I had nothing left in the legs and it was all I could do to get across the line. It had never felt so good to make that transition from run to walk.

As soon as I'd received my finisher medal and plastic heat blanket, I reached into my pocket to retrieve my iPhone to take a few pictures and to call Neil to coordinate the meet-up so we could go home. Sidebar: I far prefer the plastic blanket to the Mylar blanket...much more effective and not as noisy. Anyhoo, upon attempting to turn on my phone to capture the scenes of the finish, I realized that the screen didn't so much work. I mean, it lit up a kind of whitish/grayish color, but it wasn't functional. Did I mention that this particular iPhone was only a week old? I had replaced my other iPhone a week prior in Dresden because of a problem that developed with the speakers and headphone jack. I have really good luck with iPhones (I replaced my 3GS x4 in one year because of a myriad of problems), and Neil thinks it is because I take them with me running. This may be true, but don't a lot of people with iPhones take them running/to the gym? Nevertheless, now I was worried about actually being able to find Neil. I always have a planned post-race meeting spot ahead of time in case of failures of technology or people's ability to utilize technology, but after a couple of cold November afternoons waiting on a corner in NYC and a bit of wandering around here after a 10K in May, I wasn't super confident.

As I made my way past the tables of water, sweet tea (far preferable to the watered down Powerade being offered), and non-alcoholic beer (in Germany?!), I finally reached the family reunion area where I was pleasantly surprised to see the rest of the Senkowskis waiting for me! After a few pictures, we made our way to the train and headed back to the apartment. We had to cross the marathon route to get home, so we did a bit of cheering for the runners still on the course, and finally, we were back. 

I was actually relatively happy with my time, 3:33:41. At the halfway point, I was on track for just under 3:30, but I knew that wouldn't hold up. Overall, it was a great race, and I would highly recommend it to anyone looking for a marathon to run. I think it would actually make a great first marathon with predictably good weather and the flattest course I have ever run. Here is the overall summary:

Expo: C

Event Shirt: Incomplete

Weather: A

Start Area: B+

Finish Area: B+

Course: A

Overall: B (Tough to overcome the lack of shirt)

Happy to be finished!

For the first time since I can remember, I have no future marathons on the schedule. I am hoping that I will be able to find a race somewhere in Europe and turn it into a trip for us. I signed up for the Berlin half marathon in April as a small consolation, and I am trying to find a 70.3 Ironman to do with Neil next spring as well. There is also a 5-day race in Morocco (Marathon International des Cedres) that a few of the Olmsteders did last June. When we had a visit this summer from the Saunders' who are currently in Rabat, my interest was piqued, and the more I look at it, the more I want to do it. For now, the days are getting shorter, and the sun doesn't really come up until 0800, so I can enjoy the occasional chilly 8-10 miler and just be happy with the leaves shuffling underfoot and that it doesn't have to be longer.

Coming up on So, We Live In Germany:

• Midwest Senkowskis come to town
• Searching for a babysitter in Berlin
• The culture of the Kinderspielplatz* (playground) 

*I may never actually write this one, but if I do, expect a lot of cute pictures.

Bis zum nächsten mal, Freunde!

Ostsee Can You See

Worst pun title yet, I know, but I'm sick (shocking) and somewhat still in marathon recovery mode so it's the best I could do. Here's a cute picture of Annika from our trip to make it better.

A little over a month ago, Neil had a break in his language school, and our next language school session had yet to begin, so we decided to take a little trip to a more out-of-the-way German locale on the Ostsee (the Baltic Sea to most of you). We journeyed to Heringsdorf on the island of Usedom, a small island in the northeast of Germany which is partially shared with Poland. It is a holiday hotspot for the Germans and also home to the longest commercially operated pier in continental Europe (508m), so basically we couldn't lose.

One thing you always hear about is how awesome it is to drive in Germany. The autobahn and lack of speed limits are awfully enticing and sound good on paper. As we found out on our journey to pick up the car, the autobahn is not all is it cracked up to be. Fortunately, this trip relied very little on major roads and more on small country roads between towns. This all sounds lovely except that quaint rural driving amounts to a lot of stopping and going as you enter and leave new towns. This would be fine except that the monster only enjoys car rides at 80k/h or faster. It's like Speed with less excitement and a lot more screaming. I will say that the scenery was beautiful and we did manage to luck into missing the opening of the drawbridge onto the island and the traffic that goes with it, so the trip was not a total disaster.

Once we arrived in Heringsdorf, we decided that we needed to check out this pier we'd heard so much about and also eat dinner. Coincidentally, there is a restaurant out on the end of the pier, so we were able to kill two birds with one 508-meter walk. The nice thing about a vacation town is that most restaurants are fairly kid-friendly and have outdoor seating. We were able to snag a table with a nice view of the sun setting and an entertaining waiter and enjoy a meal and a drink without disrupting the meals and drinks of anyone else. This is no small feat in the Senkowski house, and we thoroughly enjoyed it.

Mouth full of bruschetta.

Our hotel lies just across the water from the pepper mill.

Happy to be out of a high chair/stroller/car.

Freedom!

One of the things I enjoy about traveling is running in new places. I often get hassled by those with whom I am traveling that I should take a break and enjoy myself. My argument is always that running is how I enjoy myself. It is also a fantastic way to get to know a new area. So of course when I found out that the Polish border was just over a 5K run from our hotel, I simply could not resist. I was not particularly in the mood to carry my passport with me, so I decided that I would just go to the border and turn around. There was an amazing run/bike path along the water, and at 0500 it was almost completely empty, save for a few people biking to work giving me strange looks. As it turns out, borders are not so secure here in the EU, and I was able to run right up and in to Poland. I really must say that a run into another country is a great way to start a day.

Pretty self-explanatory. The monument was a nice surprise.

Poland on the left. Germany on the right.

Another nice thing about an early morning run is that I often come up with some pretty great ideas. I also often forget a lot of them before I get home, but that is neither here nor there. As I made the return run back to the hotel, I thought it might be fun to rent some bikes and ride to Poland later in the day with the monster. I had seen a number of bike rental places, and I hoped we could rent one of those kid cargo trailer thingys. Since she never really naps well in hotel rooms or at home in her crib, I thought we might be able to time a ride with a snooze for her and perhaps get lunch/a drink at one of the trailside cafes. After a little bit of morning beaching, Neil called a the bike rental place, and we reserved two bikes and a trailer thingy and headed off to Poland again. Annika entertained herself, us, and some other trailgoers with a rousing rendition of Goodnight Moon before she passed out. We rode a bit further into Poland than I had run and upon reaching the end of the bike path, turned around to head back to Germany. It began to look a bit like rain so we pulled off at a miniature golf course/Imbiß spot. There's nothing like a beer, some wurst, some potato pancakes, and fries after a bike ride to Poland. Am I right?

I think she was around the part about
the bowl full of mush.

Pumped about being in Poland.

Trying to escape before we get back to Germany.

Eating wurst...obvs.

A bike ride to Poland and a walk to the end of a long pier are tough to top, so we decided to take a day trip to Greifswald, an old town relatively unscathed by WWII bombings and with an indoor playground place Neil had found. When what should have been an hour's drive turned into a bit over 2 hours, and the indoor play place was not open for another 2 hours, we headed to our favorite German hamburger restaurant, McDonald's. Determined that the trip involve something new and exciting for Annika, we decided she was ready for her first Happy Meal. Ordering said Happy Meal was slightly more complicated than I had anticipated and not because I had to do it in German. It used to be you just ordered hamburger, cheeseburger, or McNuggets, and that was that. With the dawn of healthy options, there is a lot more deciding to be done. Fries/apple slices/salad, milk/chocolate milk/juice/organic milk/soy milk, and my choice of literally 14 books was almost too much to handle, but I did it. She ate some of the food and tried to destroy the 3D glasses that came with her book (seriously, whatever happened to a plastic toy from the latest Disney movie?), and we headed into old town to see some cobblestone streets which are always good for testing Annika's balance, an old church (one of only a few not totally destroyed by allied bombing), and a toy store where we got some color-changing rubber duckies. Altogether, it was another relatively successful day. That night, I had some wurst for dinner that looked like a snail. It was pretty tasty.

McEating.

Church in Greifswald.

Snail wurst. Lecker.

Our last day on the island of Usedom was pretty low-key. We did some walking around, ate another delicious meal, and took what may be the best family picture we've been able to capture yet on the beach (with the pier in the background, of course). We made our way back home to Berlin and prepared to start language class the next week.

That was pretty much the last we would see of summer. It is now October, and we are settling in to cool, rainy weather which I fear will be staying with us until next Spring. On the up side, I am enrolled in a 4 hour/day, 4 day/week class where I feel like I might actually be able to make some progress with my German. Also on the up side, with more time spent inside, I may be able to get caught up with posts including but not limited to the following:

• The Midwest Senkowskis in Berlin (and Dresden)
• The Berlin Marathon and the death of another iPhone
• My slightly racist but otherwise super liberal and hilarious German teacher
• Kinderspielplatz shenanigans

Bis zum nächsten mal Freunde!