My First Marathon


This text was translated from Russian by me. 
You can see some pictures on the original post in Russian.

I would like to thank my “editors”, their help is priceless,
Leigh Mumfor, Danie, Dave, Liza and especially 
I thank Torusan and my friend Bob Cable.


I ran my first marathon a few weeks ago. That event has become the most memorable experience for me in the last several years. I would like to share these emotions.

The start was planned at for 9:30 on the morning of the last Sunday in July. I woke up at about 7 am. I had oatmeal with a banana for breakfast. I dropped some bananas, a bottle of water, some energy gels and my running shoes into my backpack and left my home for the first marathon in my life. I decided not to ride my bicycle because I was afraid that I would not be able to get back by bike. Besides that I wanted to conserve my energy for the race. I didn’t take my car because I didn’t know if I could park it there and I didn’t need any worries about that. It was enough for me that I had had a little traffic accident a few days previously. I decided to take a bus there.
The meetup for participants was at the "Sokol” Running Club located just by the climbing trail in the forest. I arrived there by 8:30 am. I turned out to be a bit late. Most of the runners had already gone to the start. It needs to be said, that I was in the clubhouse for the first time, and I liked the pleasant ambience and the dedicated staff. There was a dressing room and even a shower.



I changed my clothes, stuffed power gels into my pockets, left the dressing room, and asked how I could get to the marshalling area. Two older men, who were experienced and honored runners, as I later learned, were just to lead latecomers there. I said, “Great! I am a latecomer. Lead me!” We got outside. There was an emergency vehicle close to the porch. “It’s too early”, I thought. It turned out that the emergency crew was supposed to be in the starting area; but they were late, too. One of my new acquaintances said that he knew how to get to the start camp by emergency vehicle. They suggested to us that we lead them there in the car. I didn’t like that idea at first but I had to get into the car. That moment I thought, “It’s better to get to the start via emergency vehicle, than to return from the finish line by it”.
By the way, we picked up one more participants. I need to say that getting to the forest by car is rather complicated. All entrances and exits to the forest are blocked with buried pipes and other barriers. When the vehicle was climbing the mountain and passing concrete blocks of bunkers, I thought, “It would be great to know a secret loophole”. Perhaps our conductor suspected something about my insidious intentions and he began a double game so as not to betray his precious knowledge.
Following his lead, we were climbing higher and higher. We passed the buildings and we started moving through tightly packed bushes. The road went deeper and deeper into the woods. Suddenly, the road changed into a trail. The car stopped. It became clear that the car would not move further. All of us, except for a female doctor, got out of the car and ended up in dense nettle bushes. “Take this, spies!” the conductor thought and said, “This way seems to be wrong”. Then he rapidly walked through trees towards the start area. Having left the driver and the doctor to phone for the marathon organizer, the two men and I went looking for the start camp, too. Our conductor had been a shadow among branches by that time. We had no idea where we were or where to go. It was about 15 minutes before the start of the race.
Guessing approximately the direction of our hidden conductor, we eventually came across a large group of people in shorts and running shoes. We were just in time for the group picture taking and a short prestart briefing. I had to piss and then register. I ran to the registration desk, gave 100 rubles ($3) to the female referee, quickly filled out a registration form and, finally, got my number. It was 32. I affixed it as I stood on the starting line. That’s all. We lined up on the line, waiting for a command.
Go!
I turned on the Strava.com app and pushed the heart rate monitor button. I ran. It started with 25 runners; I began in the middle of the pack. Due to my late arrival at the starting gate, I was neither able to worry nor to to size up the other participants. At first, my plan was to find out who was going to run the 5:30-5:40 min per km. That pace gave me a possibility to finish in four. So I would follow that runner. But I had no time to do it before the start. The group stretched out as soon as we had started. I ended up running behind one of two female runners. I assumed by her shape and her running style that she was an athlete. Later, I learned that I was right. She was a skier (nordic skiing, cross country skiing). Her pace seemed appropriate for me. So I am going to follow her. I overtook her a bit later and asked what time she was her target time. She, as well as I was, was going to finish sub four hours. Great! I’ve found a partner. “What is our pace?” I asked pointing to her GPS sport watch. It turned out to be 5:04. Hmm, pretty fast. I am not expecting to run so quickly. She wasn't planning to run in such a sustained pace either. We chatted back and forth and decided to keep our pace at 5-10 km, anyway, we could ease back anytime. We ran while giving each other a hand. So she and I had been running like this through the next 35 kilometers.

We had to run eight laps in 5 km increments. We made a little loop at the very beginning. We ran out one kilometer from the start, turned round, ran back, turned round again and then went on to complete eight additional laps. There were two refreshment stations: at the start area and in the middle of the lap. There was nothing special: water, fruit compote, dried fruits. I grabbed a 0.5 liter bottle of isotonic with a sport nipple (a cap that has a one-way bite valve to be able to drink without opening it). It had been half full at the start. Two of my companions had taken a sip from it. I had been used to carrying a bottle in my hands during my training. I thought that I would throw it away as soon as I drank all the liquid from it, and I would then drink at the feeding areas. But I didn’t part with it until the very finish. It turned out to be uncomfortable to drink from plastic cups. You have to have some skills to drink from the cups on the go, and you must train this skill. As a final result, Anastasia, that was my partner’s name, and I got along well: she takes two caps and I take one at the feeding station. I pour from the cups into the bottle on the run. I was able to fill almost a whole bottle. It enabled us to drink pretty comfortably. I had no problem running with such added weight; I had been used to it. So, the hydration problem was resolved. I decided in advance to eat power gels. I took seven packs with me. I lost one of them in the emergency vehicle. I ate four of them along the distance. They were horrible – too sweet, but it worked. They recovered my energy for 40-50 minutes. It helped me not reduce my pace. Anastasia didn’t refuel at all. I offered her some gels, but she wisely refused to try a new product during the race. It is better to arrive at the finish slowly than at the bushes quickly. I did give her one on the finish. Having squeezed out the contents of it, she agreed that it was vile.
But let’s return to the race. By the way, I saw the very same emergency car after my first lap at the start/finish area. They did get here! We had run the first half of the Marathon in one hour 45 minutes. It was good pace – 3:30. I was full of energy. It seemed that I could not only keep my pace, but I could even accelerate. We had been running side-by-side at that moment. We decided not to hurry and maintain our speed. Neither she nor I had run more than 32 km before and none of us knew what is beyond that mark. They say the Marathon begins after 35 km. They don’t lie. My Marathon started after 32 km. I had to run two more laps. Needless to say, we passed some people and we saw some backs ahead of us. One of them was an organizer as well, running together with another guy. We wanted to pass them. I caught up to them in the penultimate lap. Anastasia had run off a little, and remained without water. I felt ready to collapse at any moment. My legs didn’t obey me. I was able to run better uphill than downhill. Exactly at that moment, I fell behind. I squeezed out the gel in my mouth, and I felt much better. I recovered my pace. I passed a couple I had noticed earlier in the very beginning of the last lap. Anastasia had passed them a bit earlier. Having kept behind their backs, I decided to bypass them. I could not say I did it out of my last drop of energy, because I had absolutely no power left.
They had caught up to me again by the last refreshment station. I passed a table with water without stopping. I held almost a full bottle in my hands. The organizer went to drink; the second guy went past the table as I had. A little downhill was ahead of us. We both ran together. I offered that my co-runner a drink from my bottle. He refused. The best idea that was coming into my mind was to slow down my pace, better to walk, much better to stay. But I perceived my fellow runner as a rival, a competitor. I knew: I stop – I lose. Now I didn’t want to just finish, I wanted to beat this guy. I accelerated a bit, he did the same. I slowed down, so did he. I am not able run downhill. The fronts of my thighs are suffering. There is a short but sharp uphill before us. We run in together. I increased my speed little on the very top of the hill. I left my rival behind me by a half of a step. It was enough to find out that he was exhausted as well as I was. There was one more a long sloping uphill. It is what I am waiting for. I am still able to run uphill. Here it is! I start. I lift my legs higher, push away. He falls behind. More, more. I turn round; it is about 15 meters between us. More, more. The gap is increasing step by step, meter by meter. I go to the flat area. There is sand under my feet. I try to keep my pace. I turn round again. No way! He won’t catch up to me! Anastasia runs before me. She has not finished yet. It is strange; I have thought I have lagged behind a lot. But not, apparently she has slowed down at the end. I see the finish line. I will do this right. I begin accelerating 20 meters before the finish. I don’t know where I've gotten power from. This is it, the line drawn with a running shoe. I cross it raising my hands. It’s all over. The finish! The referee shouted out my time. I didn’t remember. I understood that I ran sub 3:40. Wow, I didn’t expect it. It’s all over. I am standing, not running. Now there is no need to run.

I am walking as though in the fog. I’ve thrown away my empty gel energy packs that I put in the rear pocket of my shorts. . I took a new bottle and drank. My legs don’t bend any longer. Some runners are finishing behind me. I am not the last finisher. I looked at my heart rate monitor on my wrist; it showed an average rate of 153 bpm. It was pretty good, as I expected. An older man goes for the penultimate lap. He is not in hurry; he ran the other Marathon in Moscow yesterday. Now he is running in Saratov. This is his 511th Marathon – he works for quantity. A lot of older people take part in that race – age is no disqualification. It encourages. By the way, our conductor didn’t finish the last lap. I asked what had happened, he replied, “I just didn’t want to run today”.

I returned my number and got a plastic bag. It contained a participant certificate, a pennant and a chocolate bar. It was very pleasant. Anastasia showed the best time among women in the entire history of the Forest Marathon. I finished behind her by 50 seconds. The best result among men was 2:44. Later, I looked at the official protocol; my time was 3:34:45 – 10th place. I would not have dreamt of it. I was glad.

The most amazing thing in the post-marathon period was euphoria. My state for those two or three days was like a fog. My head was empty. I often smiled without any reason. Despite muscle soreness, it was a pleasant feeling-- not physical, but mental lightness. I don’t know how it works, but 3.5 hours of physical strain overshadowed any problems and thoughts. Realizing that I overcame myself rather than a distance gives a pleasant feeling of maximum satisfaction. This is a pretty strange and pleasant feeling. It is worth repeating it next year.


August, 28

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