Marathon 4/40: Belgium Brussels Airport Marathon Sunday Oct 6th, 2019 Spread out evenly, to run 40 marathons in 40 countries in 4 years would result in running a marathon every 5 weeks. It was, however, highly unlikely I would accomplish even spacing due to marathon schedules and general logistics. I also had a 5-month gap between the first and second meaning I would need to make up for this with some marathons much closer together. I embraced this in Europe and tacked on an extra marathon to our trip, 7 days after Berlin, in Belgium. For recovery between races we took a train from Berlin to Munich and attended Oktoberfest. I was a carb-heavy affair and of course covered in beer. It was an “authentic” experience that I’m glad I had but don’t feel the need to revisit. Sorry, ancestors. After a few fun-filled days that included a shake-out run along the river and dinner with my friend Allicia, who was also in town, we hopped on another train that deposited us in Brussels. Many have told me “Brussels is boring”. I do not agree. There was great food, excellent beer and they host a solid marathon. I also thought it was beautiful. Perhaps I would be bored if I stayed for more than 3 days. Alternatively, maybe I just differ in opinion in the necessities of a city to remain entertained. I went on an easy run the day we arrived, Friday, to see the neighborhood and scope out some restaurants. That night, I woke up with a Charlie-horse in my calf. In tears and screaming - Erik was very confused - I was able to eventually fall back to sleep with a deep ache in my leg. I woke up with the pain still there. I stretched, went on a run to the expo for my bib, and massaged it. The pain remained. I ate Belgium fries and had an easy pasta dinner. I prepped my gear for a rainy race and caught up on some work. I went to bed with that deep cramp still proudly announcing itself as pain. I did not sleep well and I woke up Sunday with a still sore leg and a lot of rain. I honestly did not want to run this race. We were going to navigate public transit but Erik thankfully ordered an Uber and we arrived at the start still dry. I had the finishers poncho from Berlin the weekend before so was able to stay decently warm, and look like a badass that was about to run back-to-back marathons. Erik had full rain gear (used for riding his bike in the rain) which made it slightly easier for him to spectate (he’s my hero for being out on the course cheering always, but especially on less than ideal days). He rode a Lime scooter around the course and cheered me on at several spots, including riding up a hill while parallel to me while I tried to breathe. I slowly shed my layers and moved toward the start – among so many men, as women, in my limited experience, do not have a very strong participation percentage in European races. (193 women finished this marathon, compared to the 1150 men.) Rain, little sleep, 7-day post-marathon and leg cramp aside, I still felt like I was in good shape. My cold from Berlin had passed and I was feeling fit. Therefore, I situated myself near the 3:30 (8 min mile / 5 min km) pace group as the gun went off. The Race The 3:30 pace group took off in a sprint. I let them go but still started faster than I would have liked, clocking a 7:30 mile. It was, however, downhill and nearly effortless so I rolled with it. And continued to roll over the little rises and dips in the first few miles in the city, dropping under bridges. I realized that I did not look at an elevation map at all and started to wonder what was in store – if there was a reason that the 3:30 pace group was still out of my reach after I averaged 7:30 miles for the first three (this pace would result in a sub 3:17 marathon). I caught them around 6 miles and stayed near the back of the big, all male, pack. By mile 11, I had worked my way to the front and started chatting with the pacers, asking why they were pacing us hot to a 3:20 marathon by my calculations. “The last 5km+ is all uphill.” They were banking, knowing that the last 5km could slow the average runner significantly with the climb. I ran passed Erik at this point, looking like I was leading a pack of dozens of men with the pacers. I was still feeling strong but also now worried for a climb that was 12 miles ahead. That last climb, as it turned out, was not the only one. I pulled in front of the pace group over the next 4 miles as we climbed again. Mile 14 was brutal, my slowest of the course at 8:28 with 130ft of climb. The rain had paused earlier in the race but started again as we entered Tervuren Park and it was actually quite beautiful. The air looked misty and it was peaceful. I started to fade a bit by mile 17, on the back half of the park loop. The pace group caught up and it felt like they were sprinting past me. I snagged on to the end of the group and blocked out all my thoughts – I simply locked in and followed. The next 2 miles were the toughest of the course. This is common for me between 18 and 20 miles. If I am feeling good at this point, relatively, I still mentally struggle with the fact that I have 8 more miles to go and it feels like another marathon ahead of me. I’d never run with the support of a pace group this far into a race before and did not realize the benefit of encouragement during this time. The sweep pacer for the group came up behind me on yet another climb and simply said: “come on”. I told him I would do it. Over the next mile I busted through the barriers that were telling me I was tired and picked my way back up to the front of the group. I thanked him. I dropped the pace group at mile 21 and got redemption on that brutal mile 14 climb by letting loose on the way back down, mile 24. It was my fastest mile of the day, 7:19, before I switched gears for the last big climb. The uphill finish, while not ideal or how I would choose to end 26 miles of running, was not that bad. I’m glad I built it up to be worse than it was because I had energy to spare and cruised almost painlessly up the hill, finishing the last quarter mile in a near sprint. 3:26:05. This would turn out to my fastest marathon in 2019. It was enough for another solid BQ, 9th woman and 2nd in my age group. After the race I found both pacers (the group finished a couple minutes behind me) and hugged them. It was such a great experience. Even in the rain. I recovered with fries and beer and a short nap. This wasn't the end of my fall travel - so we also did laundry in our Airbnb before I headed on the the US and Erik back to Tokyo the next day. We had a long dinner - with champagne - at a tapas train restaurant. There was no time for Brussels to be boring.
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AuthorA Midwest girl gone global. I choose happiness everyday: I run, eat well, travel, and love completely. Archives
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