Barcelona Diary #30 — Done
Barcelona, you were beautiful, but the second half of your Marathon was really tough. Yours sincerely, me.
So this is it, finish line crossed and marathon PB achieved. No the intended time, but couldn’t ask for more.
So after a week off and total disconnection from the world, here I am, back on track and ready to share the final entry of this training journal. A wonderful journey that went faster than I expected and that is now a beautiful memory.
So here we go!
The Calm Before The Storm
After a year of preparation that basically consisted on: enrolling in April 2016, get more people in, get excited, forget about it, think about training, start training, lose motivation and the love for running, then get injured and eventually get back at it; after all that, we finally flew to the city of the sun, tapas, friends and the finish line. Barcelona.
After three hours delay inside the plane, I got there on Thursday night, enough time to acclimatise and get rid of the heaviness on the legs from the travel; while waiting for the rest of the crew to arrive and assemble.
The days before the race were just about eating, walking about and catching up with local friends, all easy, until Saturday afternoon when things got really real, we collected our numbers.
That was just the prelude of the expected nervousness caused by the upcoming event, you know, just 42 kilometres between the start and the finish line.
After that, the only thing left was our ‘pasta party’ for the usual carbo-load and then go home for the final arrangements, foam roll and put a new tape on to hold my knee, and of course, sleep.
Race Day
After waking up two or three times in the middle of the night thinking I missed the alarm, it finally went off. Showtime.
Cold shower, breakfast and meditation, my secret ‘combo’ to clear the head and get into the right mindset to tackle the ‘thing’. One last revision and straight to the subway station, all cars already full of runners of all sizes and a lot of energy in the air.
Final destination, Plaza España, catching up with the guys, pre-race pictures and serious nervousness properly kicking in, but supporting each other as usual.
““we are nervous, and that’s ok, but we trained for this, we got this. No matter what happens, we walk, we jog, we crawl, whatever you have to do, but we fucking finish this thing, because we don’t fucking quit” — Amen”
We got to the starting line, I get into the zone, and if there’s something I have to say, is that those Barcelona guys really know how to pump you up, I mean, how not when Queen is playing full volume as we begin to approach the line? Of course, I want it all and I want it now!
LET’S DO THIS!
And I was off, all smooth and sweet, warming up during the first few kilometres, putting things in place, finding my pace and speed, and not getting too excited; in other words, don’t go too fast, too soon.
Kilometre number 5 was the first designated stop for our cheering squad, great to see them, but still, a long way to go.
[caption id=”” align=”alignnone” width=”1042.0"]
1/2 Cheer Squad — 21K[/caption]
During long races, it normally takes me until the 7th kilometre to be properly warm-up, so when I got there I was ready to start making some moves. All that went well until halfway point, which happened to be the second spot for our cheering squad, another great boost, and I felt like I was flying, on top of my game, and even reached it on a great time, so the possibility of a 3:20 or below was on the table. ‘Now the race really starts’, I’m determined, time to play some Motörhead and let Lemmy lead the way! Rock n’ Roll baby!
‘This is happening’, and it really was, until the 26K mark where energy levels started to drop and once I hit the 30K everything went downhill, I really lost it.
From there is all blurry and painful, I totally ran out of fuel and hit the wall badly. It was hard to focus, got dizzy a couple of times and even had to ask for help from the physio team to spray my calves as they were about to explode.
It is important to note that until this point my knee caused zero problems. Until this point.
On kilometre 35, the knee came into the picture; because, what else can go wrong when you are already struggling, right? I got really scared as I had to stop for few for seconds (twice) to accommodate my right leg as it felt like the knee was about to block; luckily it was not more that that.
The last 7 kilometres, was just a complete battle between mind a body to basically not shut down and make until the end, although more than once thought I could not.
I kept looking at my watch and continued to see each goal just vanish, especially when the 3:30 pacer group that you comfortably left behind about long ago, pass you and goes away in the distance. Heartbreaking. It was like everything was lost at that point, BUT, we don’t quit, right?So, I went for one last goal, Sub 3:40.
I’ve never been a good starter; I’m a more of a finisher, no matter how the race goes, I always manage to save something for the end and push the hardest towards the finish line; this time of course, was the exception. I just couldn’t. For months I imagined that moment in my head repeatedly, crossing the finish line at all speed, giving it all as I always do, but this time felt like just couldn’t.
Final cheering squad spot was on the 40K mark, and thank god they were there.
Two kilometres to go on a straight street that seemed endless.
I put together whatever was left in me and went for it. Final push towards the finish line, and I crossed it.
It’s done. 3:38
Not what I expected, but couldn’t ask for more.
It was hard, really hard after the second half.
It was emotional. We hugged, we cried. We wait for each other.
I was exhausted and couldn’t move for a while, pale as a paper sheet, but proud of each one of us, the crew we put together, and what we achieved.
After this, there was only one thing left to do, celebrate. Shower, rest, recovery tights on, and ALL the tapas in the world!
More pics over here
Final Thoughts
Happy? Yes. Satisfied? Not really.
Not because I’m becoming ‘that guy’ never enjoying what he achieved, but because I know it could have been better, even worse, I actually had it but lost it on the way.
Many lessons learned, yes, now will be about putting them into practice. When? Don’t know yet, but I’m not in a rush either.
What’s Next?
For now, I’ll get back at just running and enjoy it, fall in love again, get my knee properly sorted and after all that, get ready for the Highland Fling, and I’m really looking forward to it. Bring on the trail!
Finally, thanks to everyone that took part of this Marathon journey, one way or another, all messages, comments and support are really appreciated.
Stay well and see you on the road.
