Following the adventurers of David Achtzehn!
Ultramarathon
I like running because it is simple.
Perhaps it is the most simple sport in the world, and yet it is one of the most rewarding. I run not to win races or medals. I run for the experience, I run because it helps me to think and forget, I run to measure myself, in kilometres and character, I run to see places I would have never seen, I run because it has shown me that anything is possible.
Just a few days ago I succeeded in my toughest physical challenge yet. I run the biggest ultra-mountain marathon in the world, the Swiss Alpine in Davos. The races leads you through the breathtaking beauty of the Swiss Alps, 78km with 2260m of climb and decent. It pushed me to my physical limits and beyond it, but I kept running.
The following is a very short account of my training and the day of the race.
Training:
Muhammad Ali once said, “The fight is won or lost far away from witnesses, behind the lines, in the gym and out there on the road, long before I dance under those lights”.
The challenge started in January, long before the actual race, in the cold English winter rain. Jerome, a good friend, and myself had been running occasionally to keep fit and get out of the house. We had both run marathons before and shared a passion for the sport. We were both looking for a new challenge, a challenge so big it would be close to impossible to succeed. In a moment of arrogance we signed up to the Swiss Alpine and our weekly runs seemed to start leading towards something. Since Jerome is half Swiss and I am German, we decided to write a detailed trainings plan, which we followed for about one week. Certainly for myself I realised that a trainings plan lasting several month seemed scary and impracticable. The only way to keep running would be a relaxed and fun training schedule. We jogged about three times a week and mixed in some hills and sprints as well as lots of worth wile conversations. It was great to get to know our area better and the runs started to extend to about an hour each.
Over Easter we had a three week break but soon after found a steady training rhythm. Thanks to a bit more sunshine and an ever increasingly beautiful countryside, running started to get a little easier. May was approaching fast, but the race seemed far away.
With exams ahead and my new found passion and focus of attention, Katya, we started to reduce the number of our outings and my main focus became holding my current fitness level. In June Jerome graduated and moved to London, and I completely lost my training focus. I had never run over 1hr and 10minuites in training, had no mountain training and no idea what we had gotten ourselves into. The challenge seemed more blunt than ever, and even a little stupid.
In mid July I went on a bike trip with my friends Carlos and Meng. We wanted to cycle from Rome to Davos, just in time for the race, but eventually spend more time on trains than in the saddle. For all but the athletic component, it was a fantastic trip, lots of fun, sunny, cultural, relaxing and packed with good food. We reached Davos on the 29th and Carlos and Meng bravely decided to run the 21km half marathon without any pre-training.
The day of the race:
After a good night sleep Jerome and myself enjoyed what must have been the biggest 6am breakfast I ever had. The sky had cleared after the last few days of rain and we made our way to the start in the crisp morning air. Around 2000 crazy runners had gathered for the “Königsdisziplinin” of the race day and huddled together to wait for the countdown. 3…2…1… and off we went.
It was a relaxed start, both of us were feeling great and full of energy and excitement. The first 30km were relative flat, even slightly downhill, and lead us through thick forests and green field with confused looking Swiss cows. I managed three pees and one poo in just 20km, I guess a sign of good hydration and a my big breakfast. The scenery was magnificent and one could easily imagine why people loved participating is this type of events.
At kilometre 35 my legs started showing first signs of fatigue but we managed to push under a marathon time of 4hr (42,195km). Not surprisingly the Swiss infrastructure along the route was planned with great thought and refreshments were not a problem. Water, energy drinks, ice tea, bananas, energy bars, bouillon and bread rolls with raisins. The hard thing was to not overeat and keep going at all means.
My legs had started hardening up and the sun had reached its full power. We were right into our big climb, an ascent of 1600m over a distance of 20km. The hill took my last energy and at kilometre 50, 3km from the top I completely broke in. Jerome walked a little with me, but we decided he should push on without me. I had hit “the wall” before at marathons, but this was different. My body signalled me with all it had that I had reached my max and should give in. There were still 30km to go and I had no idea from where to take the energy. I tried to take in the magnificent mountain panorama and think of beautiful things, I tried to think about Katya, who I would meet the next day in Croatia, but my mind could not hold a thought for more than 5-10 seconds. I somehow reached the first peak and rewarded myself with 3min rest and some warm soup.
The next 10km were the toughest of the entire race. The thin mountain trail went along the ridge and to the second peak of the race. Faster runners were pushing from behind and slower once getting in the way. My keens were swollen and the pain pierced through the numbness of the upper legs. I was able to run the first 30km with my head, the next 20km with the passion for running, but from now on I had to trust my heart to do the job. I had spend nearly three hours running uphill, but my effort was about to be rewarded. The second and last peak was in sight. I told myself, “this is the most simple sport in the world, just keep running, just put one leg in front of the other, just don’t stop!!”
The downhill began, it was not much less painful, but at least gravity was doing most of the work. I had fought through the worse and my legs seem to run on autopilot. I didn’t have a watch with me so I tried to asked a few other runners for the time, but everyone was so exhausted they did not have the energy even for this simple request. My hope was to run below 10hours and all I knew was that I was behind, so I refocused and started speeding up a little. I have no idea where the energy for the last kilometre came from, the human body remains a mystery to me, but the signs with the distance written in bright red colour started counting down. 65…70…75… and before I knew it I was running into the stadium. It was the most amazing moment and I felt refreshed and energetic again. I screamed as loud as I could and crossed the finish line. After 9hours and 46minuits, 11th of my age category and slightly wiser than before I finished the race. Exhaustion lay upon me like a warm blanket. My friends were waiting behind the finish line, they had also completed their runs, and we huge and dances and drunk non-alcoholic beer to recharge.
In the evening we went for a pasta feast, but I had hardly enough energy to stay awake and excused myself. The 10min walk back to the hotel took about one hour and my bad preparation started to pay off. It took nearly a week for my legs to recover, but the smile in my heart never went.
I like running because it is simple.
Perhaps it is the most simple sport in the world, and yet it is one of the most rewarding. I run not to win races or medals. I run for the experience, I run because it helps me to think and forget, I run to measure myself, in kilometres and character, I run to see places I would have never seen, I run because it has shown me that anything is possible.
Just a few days ago I succeeded in my toughest physical challenge yet. I run the biggest ultra-mountain marathon in the world, the Swiss Apline in Davos. The races leads you through the breathtaking beauty of the Swiss Alps, 78km with 2260m of climb and decent. It pushed me to my physical limits and beyond it, but I kept running.
The following is a very short account of my training and the day of the race.
Training:
Muhammad Ali once said, “The fight is won or lost far away from witnesses, behind the lines, in the gym and out there on the road, long before I dance under those lights”.
The challenge started in January, long before the actual race, in the cold English winter rain. Jerome, a good friend, and myself had been running occasionally to keep fit and get out of the house. We had both run marathons before and shared a passion for the sport. We were both looking for a new challenge, a challenge so big it would be close to impossible to succeed. In a moment of arrogance we signed up to the Swiss Alpine and our weekly runs seemed to start leading towards something. Since Jerome is half Swiss and I am German, we decided to write a detailed trainings plan, which we followed for about one week. Certainly for myself I realised that a trainings plan lasting several month seemed scary and impracticable. The only way to keep running would be a relaxed and fun training schedule. We jogged about three times a week and mixed in some hills and sprints as well as lots of worth wile conversations. It was great to get to know our area better and the runs started to extend to about an hour each.
Over Easter we had a three week break but soon after found a steady training rhythm. Thanks to a bit more sunshine and an ever increasingly beautiful countryside, running started to get a little easier. May was approaching fast, but the race seemed far away.
With exams ahead and my new found passion and focus of attention, Katya, we started to reduce the number of our outings and my main focus became holding my current fitness level. In June Jerome graduated and moved to London, and I completely lost my training focus. I had never run over 1hr and 10minuites in training, had no mountain training and no idea what we had gotten ourselves into. The challenge seemed more blunt than ever, and even a little stupid.
In mid July I went on a bike trip with my friends Carlos and Meng. We wanted to cycle from Rome to Davos, just in time for the race, but eventually spend more time on trains than in the saddle. For all but the athletic component, it was a fantastic trip, lots of fun, sunny, cultural, relaxing and packed with good food. We reached Davos on the 29th and Carlos and Meng bravely decided to run the 21km half marathon without any pre-training.
The day of the race:
After a good night sleep Jerome and myself enjoyed what must have been the biggest 6am breakfast I ever had. The sky had cleared after the last few days of rain and we made our way to the start in the crisp morning air. Around 2000 crazy runners had gathered for the “Königsdisziplinin” of the race day and huddled together to wait for the countdown. 3…2…1… and off we went.
It was a relaxed start, both of us were feeling great and full of energy and excitement. The first 30km were relative flat, even slightly downhill, and lead us through thick forests and green field with confused looking Swiss cows. I managed three pees and one poo in just 20km, I guess a sign of good hydration and a my big breakfast. The scenery was magnificent and one could easily imagine why people loved participating is this type of events.
At kilometre 35 my legs started showing first signs of fatigue but we managed to push under a marathon time of 4hr (42,195km). Not surprisingly the Swiss infrastructure along the route was planned with great thought and refreshments were not a problem. Water, energy drinks, ice tea, bananas, energy bars, bouillon and bread rolls with raisins. The hard thing was to not overeat and keep going at all means.
My legs had started hardening up and the sun had reached its full power. We were right into our big climb, an ascent of 1600m over a distance of 20km. The hill took my last energy and at kilometre 50, 3km from the top I completely broke in. Jerome walked a little with me, but we decided he should push on without me. I had hit “the wall” before at marathons, but this was different. My body signalled me with all it had that I had reached my max and should give in. There were still 30km to go and I had no idea from where to take the energy. I tried to take in the magnificent mountain panorama and think of beautiful things, I tried to think about Katya, who I would meet the next day in Croatia, but my mind could not hold a thought for more than 5-10 seconds. I somehow reached the first peak and rewarded myself with 3min rest and some warm soup.
The next 10km were the toughest of the entire race. The thin mountain trail went along the ridge and to the second peak of the race. Faster runners were pushing from behind and slower once getting in the way. My keens were swollen and the pain pierced through the numbness of the upper legs. I was able to run the first 30km with my head, the next 20km with the passion for running, but from now on I had to trust my heart to do the job. I had spend nearly three hours running uphill, but my effort was about to be rewarded. The second and last peak was in sight. I told myself, “this is the most simple sport in the world, just keep running, just put one leg in front of the other, just don’t stop!!”
The downhill began, it was not much less painful, but at least gravity was doing most of the work. I had fought through the worse and my legs seem to run on autopilot. I didn’t have a watch with me so I tried to asked a few other runners for the time, but everyone was so exhausted they did not have the energy even for this simple request. My hope was to run below 10hours and all I knew was that I was behind, so I refocused and started speeding up a little. I have no idea where the energy for the last kilometre came from, the human body remains a mystery to me, but the signs with the distance written in bright red colour started counting down. 65…70…75… and before I knew it I was running into the stadium. It was the most amazing moment and I felt refreshed and energetic again. I screamed as loud as I could and crossed the finish line. After 9hours and 46minuits, 11th of my age category and slightly wiser than before I finished the race. Exhaustion lay upon me like a warm blanket. My friends were waiting behind the finish line, they had also completed their runs, and we huge and dances and drunk non-alcoholic beer to recharge.
In the evening we went for a pasta feast, but I had hardly enough energy to stay awake and excused myself. The 10min walk back to the hotel took about one hour and my bad preparation started to pay off. It took nearly a week for my legs to recover, but the smile in my heart never went.
