Some years ago, I started to write a few short pieces. They sat on my computer for a long time until recently when I discovered them again. I decided to post a few of the better ones on the Blog – I hope you like them. This one is based on a real experience in 2004.I arrived to run my first half marathon at beautiful Hallstatt in pouring rain, which continued overnight, and by the morning the atmosphere was very damp. These are my favourite running conditions, since someone told me the story that running is easier when it's been raining due to the oxygen in the air. Who knows if it is true, but I have felt a boost every time I ran in the rain since I heard this.
At the main registration office, there were all these fit and healthy types hanging around, Mr and Mrs Nike everywhere. I felt out of my depth and nervous. With the muscle stress in my legs from walking around Amsterdam for 12 hours on Friday during Queens Day in Amsterdam, I thought about not running. But I told myself "come on! give it a try, what is there to lose? So what if you come last?”
My Austrian colleague Peter told me that if you run a half marathon slower than 1 hour 45 mins, it makes you a "weich Ei" - a soft egg. I resigned myself to weich-Ei-dom, knowing that my best chance was a slow start and a build up to try to beat 2 hours. That was my goal, together with not stopping - I felt that a stop would be paramount to giving up.
I never give up.
The rain stopped one hour before the run, and conditions were the best they could possibly have been. Not cold, not hot, oxygen in the air... I ran the first 4 km behind schedule - to get under 2 hours, I needed 5.45 per km and I ran much over that. But then I ran the next 6 fast - it was in the woods, cross country style, and I was reminded of my childhood races with my brother through the woods. I felt comfortable, and considering I ran 6km in 31 mins - average 5.10, well ahead of the target time - I felt I could go on and challenge the role of soft egg. Then I hit the first serious hill at precisely half way, followed by another hill, and another. Whoever designed the course had a sense of humour, or of sadism. The next 4 km took 23 minutes. Soft egg, I was.
The next few km passed reasonably ok as we wound back down the hill, but from 17km onwards it was a battle. I had only ever run 16km before, and I think the surroundings were the only thing that stopped me from stopping. I first came to Hallstatt in 1986, re-discovered it in 2000, and had returned many times since, because of the pure magic of mountains, lake and beautiful village perched on the Salz Berg (saltmountain). Looking around gave me a lift, even as people I had overtaken in my purple patch 10km earlier overtook me.
I glanced behind to be sure that I would not be last – there were a few behind me, I couldn’t be sure I would beat anyone, but I realised it was just a time to dig in and finish.
At 19km, the last incline started. I passed a guy who was walking, but it took a long time to pass him, meaning I was running little faster than walking. A couple of doubts crept in – “don't stop, David, just keep going” - but as I got to the top, I realised it was all downhill from now, and I knew I could finish. The relief was huge. A glance at the watch told me that the original target was well in sight and as I got past 1km to go, I knew I had 9 minutes to finish the last km and beat 2 hours. If I walked it, I could do it, but I just wanted to keep going.
As I came into the town, there were more people clapping and cheering even stragglers like me, and the best was the other runners who supported every runner – they had finished but knew it might be something special for the latter runners just to get to the end. I felt great, and yet overwhelmed. 4 months earlier, January, I was unfit, too heavy, unable to run more than 5km at any speed, and short of breath at the slightest exercise. I put myself into a fitness regime which pushed me further than I could have imagined, and I did lose some weight and felt fitter.
Yet if am honest, I didn’t think it was enough to get me through this. As I reached 500m to go, I started to cry with a mixture of joy, exhaustion, who knows what, it was too much. Then I couldn’t breathe and had to stop crying! And I pushed on for the last 200 metres, fortunately alone which meant they announced my name – “David Beckett, aus Brunn am Gebirge, aber er ist ein guter Englander Läufer” (“D.B., from B.a.G, but he is a good English runner”). The pride I felt at this moment is incredible.
18 years ago, I came to Austria for the first time. Hallstatt was the place that impressed me most, and now living in Austria is a pleasure. I try at every turn to break the English “island mentality” - I am trying to learn German, looking for ways to settle into this great place, and want to be open-minded and accepting of the differences in my newly found country. It is 11 months since I got here, and it has not been easy, but my colleagues have been so friendly and warm, it has made it so much easier. That announcement as I ran those last metres was the perfect end to a great day. I finished in 1 hour 57 minutes. All concerns about soft egg were replaced by relief at completion.
The atmosphere after the run was great. Finally the sun had come out and as we munched on mounds of bananas provided by the organisers, I felt happy and (most of all) accepted as I chatted in broken German to other runners.
