Monday 2 November 2015

Marathon Number 11: Frankfurt Marathon




I had been so sick in the days leading up to this, that I wasn't sure that I was going to be able to do this race. Had it just been a marathon for myself, I would have pulled out, but I am in no position to pull out of races now, as finding replacements at this late on in the challenge is impossible. I have to stick with the final 5 no matter how sick I am.  Unfortunately being sick meant that I couldn't get excited about Frankfurt.  I loved running Berlin so much, that I hoped this would just be as good. I had to literally put myself on auto pilot and get on with it.

I got an early flight to Frankfurt and had to go straight to the marathon expo to collect my race number.  I got there at about 12pm, and was worried it would be super busy, as they usually are the day before the race. Thankfully it wasn't too bad, and I collected my number as soon as I got there and my pre-race goody bag. Usually I like to spend a bit of time at the expo, but I was feeling so unwell, I had to get out of there. I didn't even look to see what was in my goody bag.  I found a McDonalds near by and stuffed my face with a pre-marathon Big Mac, whilst seriously questioning whether it was safe for me to run this marathon. I just had to keep telling myself that I can do this.

I went and checked into my hotel, which was only a 10 minute walk from the start, I hadn't realised how close it was.  This made me happy, as I didn't have to worry about how I would commute to the start line. The hotel was fab, really fancy.  It made a sick girl feel much better. I got to my room and all I wanted to do was sleep. I slept for about 4 hours.  I felt so bad that I had flown all that way to sleep and eat Maccy D's. Thankfully my hotel had a really nice restaurant so I didn't have to go out for my final carb loading meal.  I sat and coughed, sneezed and sweated through my pasta and took myself off back to bed.


I woke up still feeling dreadful.  I forced myself down for breakfast.  The breakfast room was full of fit, healthy marathon runners, and not a single person was speaking English. I felt so sorry for myself being on my own, with no one to talk to.  One of the breakfast buffet options was champagne! I can't tell you how tempted I was to just grab the bottle and go back to bed!! I pulled myself together, checked out of the hotel and made my way to the start.  I was a bit disappointed with the dull atmosphere.  The buzz was nowhere near as good as Berlin and it also felt like this marathon was going to be far more competitive!  There where not many charity runners! I placed myself in the 4 hour runners pen, as I wanted to give myself a good head start and just waited for it to begin.  I was terrified of what this race would happen during the 26.2 miles.  I just stared at the ground like I was about get on the scariest ride at the funfair!

As soon as my feet went over the start line I wanted to quit.  I was already a sweaty mess and I hadn't even ran half a km.  My chest was so tight, and I was struggling to breath.  I had told myself that this was not safe and I should pull out. After the first km I agreed, in my mind, I would quit at the next km, The streets where so crowded with supporters, that I didn't want to pull out in front of a big crowd. So I kept saying to myself, next km I will pull out.  Just after the first km, my mate Norm caught up with me. I told him that I was going to quit and that I would see him at the end. I think even he was convinced I wouldn't make it, as he saw the state I was in. Somehow I had got myself to 8km, and the race was now starting to go out of the city, and the streets where considerably quieter! Now was the perfect time to stop, but there was just something stopping me. It may have been the tramp that was now running along side of me. He looked like he had just rolled out of a rubbish bin, and thought he'd start running a marathon.  I looked down to see his shoes where about 5 sizes too big, and he stunk of all manor of bad things. I kept running just to shake him off, but he left me for dust! It's bad times when you are overtaken by the local tramp!


I was very aware of how slow I was going, and how much I had fallen behind, but there were still runners behind me, so I agreed with myself that I would run until the sweeper car pulled me out of the race. That way I wasn't quitting. Soon enough I had got myself to 22km. I had made it half way, but I was struggling badly now, I kept looking behind me in hope I would see the sweeper car, but it was nowhere in sight!  Then a girl ran alongside me and said "are you running the full marathon?", in disbelief! I held my head up, looked her straight in the eye, and proudly responded with a strong "YES!!, YES I BLOODY AM!!" There was a relay marathon going on at the time. So every now and again you would get fresh runners running passed you, she was one of them!. It was so annoying and her judgement on me gave me fire in my belly to not quit! "I'll show you" was the response in my head! From then on, I never looked back for the quitting option, I just looked ahead and started thinking about putting the medal round my neck!

At about 27km, another girl was suddenly right beside me.  She asked me if I was OK?  She was having problems with her hip and knee and she offered to stay with me to help me finish. It was perfect timing, as I needed to talk to someone to take my mind off the running. Just before we hit 30km, the sweeper car pulled up alongside me. It had arrived. The guy driving it told me that the race had now finished and I was officially out of the race! The race was only 4 hours in, and it had a 6 hour time limit! so how was the race finished? I told him I was finishing no matter what, and he'd have to drag me off if he wanted me to stop. He said completing the rest of the marathon was at my own risk! I just ignored him, and carried on. It was actually a relief when he drove on, as now there was no pressure! When ever I run a race, the one fear that goes through my head is that I am going to be last. I have been close to it, but it has never happened. Well this was it, I was last, but more importantly I hadn't given up. I was still fighting.

When we finally hit 30km, I started to have a real low moment. I think I cried for about a mile. My body had cooled down and I was freezing. I couldn't run any faster to warm up. I just had to keep talking to block it out. I kept having to talk about why I was doing all of this.  I then started thinking how awful it would be, travelling back to the UK having quit the race.  All of a sudden, we had another lady who had caught up with us. She was having a tough time and she joined forces with us.  She couldn't speak much English, but her boyfriend, who was walking beside her, was doing his best to translate.   It was her first marathon, so it became more important to make sure she finished!

It was surprising how many people where still out supporting the race. Though not all of it was welcoming. Even though I don't speak German, I could tell that we were being mocked and laughed at! We hadn't seen any other runners for so long!  Then at 36km we started seeing the runners who had finished. Wearing their medals proudly, hobbling their way home. I had a taste for the finish now, I kept fantasising about it. Soon enough we only had 5k left to go, but It still seemed like a long way! I had another wave of feeling so unwell.  I think by now, I had just gotten good at blocking it out. Coming down to the last 2km, it was so dark. I felt like I had spent an entire day running.  Then I saw my mate Norm, who had finished. He told me that there were no more medals left at the end. I thought he was just winding me up. He said that he hadn't even got one.  I didn't want to believe it, even more so for the girl who was running her first marathon.  I had to believe that he was joking because I would have just thrown myself to the ground and cried!!



As we ran down the last half km, everything was being taken down around us. We had to keep asking marshals where to go next.  The race finishes inside a stadium, this is one of the perks of the Frankfurt Marathon. It's quite a special moment, and  I had been looking forward to that moment so much, though I knew it wasn't going to be as amazing for me.  As we approached the entrance to it, they closed the shutter down on us, leaving us just standing outside like idiots. I literally couldn't hold the tears in any longer. 20 seconds later the shutter opened back up for us to finish. It was soul destroying.  All the people inside where just laughing at us, not in a supporting way!! It was horrible. All the lights were being taken down, and the red carpet was being cut up.  Then my worst fear had come true.  NO MEDALS!! Utterly devastating!! How the hell do you run out of medals??? There was literally nothing left for us at the end, apart from a bottle of water, and getting one of those was hard work. Then finding someone who spoke English to get an explanation was even harder.  I was told that I would get one sent in the post, but the damage was done.

I went to collect my bags, that were thankfully still kept safe for me, and tried to cheer myself up with a second helping of a Maccy D's.  I painfully walked over to it, only to find it was CLOSED!!! Everything was closed, as it was a Sunday! Could my life get any worse today!? I sat on the nearest bench and just cried, and cried.  Looking back now, I can laugh at what a state I must have looked, but I was so exhausted, hungry, sick and fed up, that everything seemed like it was a thousand times worst than it was, but the worst thing about it all was that I was on my own. Thankfully I have great support on social media, and was getting kind words of support from Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. I had the worst journey back to the airport, but once I was there, I had time to reflect on my day. I didn't have a medal, but I had my pride. I never gave up.  It was the hardest struggle I have ever had during a marathon, but I learned so much about how strong I can be. I didn't care about being last, being laughed at! This is my journey!, my challenge! and no matter how slow it takes me, I can proudly say that I have now completed 11 out of the 15 marathons.

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