the RACE

Luxembourg marathon is an evening run.  The start gun goes off at 18h and lets the runners of to climb the hills.  At first the crowd is great, because the runners of the half follow the same path but later the routes separate and the marathoner finds himself alone.

The night before we had enjoyed a glass of red wine, which is obvious a serious NO for race preparation. But as the calming joy was followed by a good night of sleep, after a hectic week, it did the trick.

The day woke up beautiful. Sun was shining, it was warm and there was very little win. It was a perfect day for running and a perfect day for exploring the city.

When arriving to the start area I was still unsure about the race. I always am but this time it was different – for the first time I began with the permission to stop. My heart was thumbing so hurt I thought it will get exhausted and stop. And I was shaking.

We started. Slow. A bit quicker, I needed to get out of the biggest group. We decided to catch the 3h30 pacers. Easy. Went past. Easy. First hill. Easy. 5km in and I was still speeding up. I knew I went too fast. My friend let me go.

I knew I was flying – I felt like I was flying and I knew I was going too fast but I could not make myself slow done. The people on the sidelines shouted my name (printed on my race number) and I felt better than ever. This is the way running should be. This is the way it should feel.

I decided that at 21km I would start taking it easy. I passed the mark and saw from the church bell that I had only been running 1h30. If even. I was going t too fast.

25km came and I felt good. I was running alone. There was a group of men far ahead of me but nobody close behind. I was running alone.

The route was climbing again. 30km and I started feeling the pace but was still feeling good. 35km was looming behind a steep rise but with music and supporters. I kept going.

38km it hit me. The wind was against me and the route started going up again – it climbed, climbed, climbed and climbed past the 39km mark. Not far to go. I was tired but not hurting. The end was almost there.

The last stretch was bordered with candles – with outside fires that gave a fuzzy light to the dark evening. I speeded up. The stadium. I ran. I ran past the runner ahead of me, and the one ahead of him. I speeded up all the way to the end.

I didn’t break my record. Not with those hills. I didn’t even win. But I ran. I ran better than ever. And it felt good. It felt so really good.

And I know, I now know for sure that the speed is in me. Now, I just need the push and I will be able to fly.