Saturday, 8 June 2024

Fichtelberg Ultra 2024

A few months after nailing a sub-4h marathon in London (that was just a one-night run — let’s never speak of it again! πŸ˜…), I’m back on the dirty trails πŸƒ‍♂️🌲, spending my Saturdays climbing stairs in Humboldthain Park, north of Berlin. More determined than ever to explore sub-50k events and finally earn my ultrarunner badge, I found myself on the starting line of the Fichtelberg Ultra — a low-profile event in Sachsen that I’d heard a few runners mention before. 🎽⛰️

I don’t have much to say about the race. I had fun running it πŸ˜„, but probably not enough to go back another time. There’s nothing particularly special about it — except maybe one thing I really liked: the route is more or less a 50 km straight line ➡️ to the Fichtelberg, the highest peak of the Erzgebirge. It’s a small mountain range along the Polish and Czech borders where I love to run, just a three-hour drive from Berlin. πŸš—πŸŒ„



Runners gather at sunrise πŸŒ… in front of Klaffenbach Castle, south of Chemnitz. The whole event feels like a backyard run organized by a veteran couple πŸ‘΄πŸ‘΅. We drop our backpacks and poles into a car πŸš™ that drives them to the foot of the Fichtelberg, where we can pick them up later. The start is nothing more than a quick countdown and some clapping πŸ‘. Everyone just takes off — I don’t think there are more than 50 of us, and that’s probably the average age too! It’s one of those “What am I doing here?” moments πŸ€”, so far from the massive trail events you find in France. But that’s exactly what I love — getting back to the essence of the sport: just a bunch of dads who had a few beers 🍻 and decided to run 50 km to the highest peak! πŸ‘¨



Not much to say about the route itself. It’s mostly hilly, rocky paths and endless forest trails 🌲⛰️. What gives the event its charm is that you don’t run a loop like most races, but a straight line to the Fichtelberg, which you can actually spot on the horizon quite early πŸ‘€. After the first “wow, that’s pretty far away” moment 😳, you get the pleasure of watching it inch closer after every section, until you finally reach its base, where you can grab your poles and start the final climb 🦡πŸͺ’.




The finish line is right at the top — a great way to end a race 🏁. I’ve done plenty of events where the peak sits in the middle of the course and you have to drag yourself back down afterward 😫. But here, once you’re done climbing, you’re done. After a long and exhausting 1 km ascent, you reach the Fichtelberghaus πŸ”️, a massive building at the summit, where you get your medal πŸ₯‡, a beer 🍺, and a large plate of pasta with mushrooms 🍝. Eventually, a bus takes you back to Klaffenbach, where you can sleep like a baby 😴.



All in all, it’s a humble but enjoyable event — the kind you can register for three days before without spending half a month’s salary πŸ’Έ. I had a good time running it, apart from getting stung by 3 pretty aggressive bees 🐝🐝🐝 at a water fountain. But don't let that be a deal-breaker, if you’re in the area πŸ˜‰.


Sunday, 21 April 2024

TCS London Marathon 2024 - The Big Fat Sub-4















I'm a trail runner. I like to climb mountains and explore forests. I like the smell of freshly-cut grass, of pine trees, the sound of chirping birds and climbing squirrels. I like to lose myself in Nature, without a goal or destination. But above all, I HATE running in the city.

What has been a passion 10 years ago, while training for my first marathon (Berlin), has become something I try to avoid everytime I can. I don't like city marathons: Too crowded, too loud, too messy. Runners feeling like elites and throwing plastic trash in the air, the crowd around you always too slow or too fast, having to triple check every time you want to change lane or overtake. For me, a city marathon is like a traffic jam. And I don't want to pay a fortune to spend 4-5 hours stuck in traffic breathing motorbikes exhaust gas, until someone trow a medal around me neck without even looking at me. I understand that all this can be a thrill to most, but it's definitely not my thing.

Nonetheless, in spite of all this, there are some city marathons that I just cannot decline. And London is one of these.

It's been a few years that the wife, the brother-in-run and I apply to the London Marathon ballot. My wife qualified two years ago and had an amazing time running it. So we all applied again, hoping to run together. And of course, while I surely was the least excited about it, I qualified this time. After postponing it for a year, hoping my wife would qualify too, I eventually had to take a decision: Run or decline the London Marathon. I chose to run it, because of the charity involvement and the low price, which is very enjoyable, when most major marathons are getting insanely expensive (160 euros for Berlin, over $200 for NYC or Boston).

It was the right decision and I had a great time running the London marathon. The atmosphere is unique and unlike anything I have seen before. The whole city is in the street, cheering you up, handing you candies, fruits, pop-corn or chocolate bars. The route takes you to beautiful corners, starting from Greenwhich Park on the outskirts and taking you to the vibrant heart of the city up to Buckingham Palace. Some sightseens are breathtaking, like crossing the London Bridge or circling around the the Cutty Shak ship. Most runners are supporting a charitable organisation and you feel like everyone is running for a good cause above self-interest. While the weather feld quite cold (to me!) and the wind was blowing when we started, the sun eventually made a pleasant entrance and stuck with us until the end.

But the reason why this has been an incredible experience, is because I smashed my PR, finishing under 4h (3.58.57 min). Since my very first marathon (Berlin, 4h 17min), I never came even close to beating my finish time, as I am solely running trail marathons now, which are much more demanding. It kind of was my only opportunity to try it and the sub-4 limit always appeared to me like a lifetime goal I wished I would achive one day. But I did not expect to succeed that day.

I kept an easy pace for the first 10 km. My brother- and sister-in-run ran along with me and cheered me up on the way everywhere they could, it was an amazing boost. After 10 km, I was feeling really good and started overtaking a lot of people. An abundant source of energy and motivation keept sustaining me for another 20km and I surprised myself holding a very intense pace. Of course, due to my lack of training, I hit the wall around the 30th kilometer. Some quick maths showed me that if I held a 5.20 min pace for the last 10km, I would barely make the sub-4. It was hard to believe, so close to me that I could almost touch it. But 10 painful kilometers were separating me from my dream.

I always take my time on trail events, I am just careful with time-limits but never run with a finish time in mind. Now what the opportunity to try it, the No-Pain-No-Gain everyone keeps telling about. When you push your body to the corner, empty it from it's last ounce of energy and achieve the impossible. I did not hesitate a second and held tight. It was tough, insanely tough. My heartbeat increased gradually, my body having a hard time holding the pace. I ran the last 10 km in pain, one eye on the road, the other on the watch, trying to save on any effort, any step, any unnecessary movement, to reach my goal. 

I realised that my watch was a bit optimistic. By overtaking a lot, I had run a little more than the actual distance. I kept doing the math in my head, converting miles in kilometers, crossing distance and time. It's gonna work, no wait it won't... It's gonna be 2min after 4h, no 1min before... It was as painful for my head as for my legs. But evething held on and I covered the last kilometers in an hypnotic state. I could not hear the people cheering around me, nor lift my head to see the city monuments. One last turn, one last look at the watch: 3h58, two minutes to go... And finally the finish line was in sight, I crossed it 1min before this insane goal that I still believed impossible 4 hours ago.

It took me about 1min to stop my legs from shaking. With a medal around my neck and a bottle in my hand I can't remember receiving, I started crying. This never happened to me before. I cried for a good 20 min, lying down in the grass looking at the sky, until my legs stopped shaking. Oh boy, tomorrow's gonna be painful, but right now I feel amazing. I changed this marathon that I did not really want to run into an amazing memory I will remember all my life.

"They did not know it was impossible, so they did it..." - Mark Twain