Until a few months ago, I was unaware of the world major marathons. My only desire was to participate in an international marathon in Europe. At first, I leaned towards Amsterdam, but after experiencing the Comrades Marathon bug last year, I knew I wanted something different.
I didn't want to repeat the Comrades Marathon, so I began searching for marathons in Europe. I was fortunate to know Gauri Jairam, who had organized a wonderful tour in South Africa after Comrades. She recommended running the Berlin Marathon over Athens and Amsterdam, so Berlin it was. My primary intention was to combine tourism with running.
The enormity of the Berlin Marathon hit me when I joined some international runners' discussion groups online. The record numbers of participants, the breaking of world records during the run, and the status of the World Majors Series by Abbott became apparent. The World Majors Series comprises six marathons across the globe: New York, Tokyo, Chicago, London, Berlin, and the notoriously challenging Boston. Runners from around the world dream of completing these six events and earning the prestigious six-star medal.
Eliud Kipchoge is a name synonymous with the Berlin Marathon. The Kenyan superstar secured his record-breaking 5th victory this year and even set a world record on this very track.
For any marathoner, running on the same track as Eliud Kipchoge on the same day is an incredibly special experience, and it was going to be my lucky day too. I admired Kipchoge not only as a runner but also as a motivator. I remember watching one of his YouTube videos in which he addressed fellow runners in Kenya. He used the metaphor of climbing a tall tree: "First, you look at the lowermost branch only, then you climb on it. When you finish in five hours, you look at 4:30." It's like improving your running or anything else in life, step by step. My aspiration was to run faster, just like every marathoner.
Last year, my personal best (PB) improved with every event, from 4:26 in Pune in June 2022 to 4:09 in Jaipur in February 2023. So, naturally, the idea of achieving a sub-4 marathon time was in the back of my mind. Kipchoge's words resonated with me: "Look at the branch above you," and the sub-4 branch was just above my head.
"My training was laser-focused on achieving a sub-4 finish, with my dedicated coach and running guru, Satish Gujaran, closely monitoring my progress. We endured grueling training sessions, including speed workouts, hill repeats, and long runs, all aimed at building not just physical endurance but also mental fortitude. Satish Sir instilled in me the belief that a marathon is a battle of both body and mind. As the race day approached, he fine-tuned my race strategy, emphasizing the importance of pacing, nutrition, and mental resilience.
While planning for a family vacation added some distractions, the sub-4 goal lingered. My coach and friends wouldn't let me forget it. It seemed like an impossible task, but their constant reminders made me believe in it.
Being too fixated on the destination can strip away the joy of the journey. The buzzing Facebook group of over 20,000 runners from around the world had already created excitement about the Berlin Marathon. I now understood why Berlin is a World Major. It's not just a one-weekend morning event; it's a week-long festival.
I began meeting fellow runners at Mumbai airport, and Berlin filled with runners as I arrived. The expo was impeccably managed; I obtained my bib in just 5 minutes, with all my booked add-ons. A South African lady noticed my Comrades cap and jacket, making her instantly friendly. She located my exact bib number among 50,000 runners within minutes.
The expo at the old Berlin airport became a festive gathering place for three days. Lucky runners could even listen to Kipchoge and other elites at the Hall of Fame event. On Saturday morning, there was a free 6 km breakfast run for anyone who wanted to join, turning into a significant event with thousands of runners, even those without bibs. On Saturday evening, there was an inline skating race on the marathon route.
Sunday morning marked the race day. It starts with race of wheelchairs and hand carts in the beginning .
Unlike Indian marathons that finish before 9:15 AM, the Western world seemed to embrace races as late-morning events, with the ability to divert traffic for the entire day.
The first wave was flagged of at 9:15 AM with elite runners in lead. With 50,000 runners divided into four waves based on their best times, my race started at 10:05 AM. Despite the chilling weather, excitement filled the air. The host provided updates on Kipchoge and Assefa leading the race, and the iconic song "Sirius" by The Alan Parsons Project motivated the runners inching towards the start line. On a big screen, an Indian barefoot runner, Chandrashekhar, shared his running story. The race officially began at 10:05 AM, but it took me a few more minutes to reach the start line.
It felt as though everyone in a Mumbai local train suddenly started running; the crowd was tight, and you had to follow the pace of the crowd to avoid toeing or elbowing.
In any marathon, you end up running more than 42.195 km since the measured distance is the shortest possible on the route. Every runner aims to stick to the blue line. My plan was clear: maintain 11 km per hour for the first three hours. At kilometer 5/6, a bus for a 4-hour finish time was blocking my way. I managed to overtake the group at one bend but found another 4-hour pacer leading his group at the next bend.
The race remained congested, but I managed to achieve my first-hour target with a couple of minutes to spare. Despite the diversity among thousands of runners in terms of nationality and colors, there was minimal conversation. Instead, there was plenty of apologizing for elbowing and using "please" or "bitte" to request passage. The constant rhythmic sound of shoe thumping on the tarmac filled the air. At water stations, the shoe-thumping sound became dangerously different as runners trampled on plastic glasses thrown on the road. However, the sidelines were full of cheering spectators, shouting enthusiastically, and various groups like drummers, bands, and Swiss horn players added to the vibrant atmosphere.
Berlin boasts numerous architectural marvels, many of which were reconstructed after the Second World War. Even the Brandenburg Gate, an iconic symbol, had been reconstructed. Yet, my focus remained on my watch, not allowing me to appreciate these beauties.
As I achieved my third hour goal as per plan, I remained on target, but the fear of the unknown lingered. I began calculating. "I'm still on track," I told myself, giving me the luxury of a restroom break. While the temperature wasn't scorching, the sun's strength was beginning to affect me.
I spotted a placard that read, "Run Kiki Run." It seemed that Kiki and Dirk were the most popular runners in the race, or perhaps there were just many Kikis and Dirks running that day. There were several such placards, and people cheered relentlessly for every runner.
My family was waiting to cheer me on at kilometer 39, in front of our hotel. However, I realized it would take me hours to reach them. My heart sank at the thought. I kept glancing at my watch, calculating, and reassuring myself, "I'm still on track." But exhaustion was setting in.
I started to doubt myself as a runner. "Why did you come here if you can't run?" I considered quitting not just the race but running altogether.
"Just have fun on Saturday evenings, Dilip. Why are you punishing yourself?"
"How did this happen? This is my 15th marathon, not to mention the ultras I've completed."
I recalled a message in our group, "Berlin is a fast track, but there are also many DNFs (Did Not Finish)."
Doubts kill you first. I can train my legs, but how can I simulate the state of my mind at Kilometer 35? Three four-hour Pacers (they call them Pacemakers in Germany) ran past me with their flags and busses between Kilometer 35 and Kilometer 38. The first one I tried to follow for a few meters. The other two did not provoke any thought in my mind. For a long time, I watched the growing distance between their flags and me. I slowly and indifferently watched my dreams slipping out of sight with those flags.
As my daughters and wife stood in front of the NH Collection hotel at kilometer 39 with a placard that read "BHAG DILIP BHAG" (Run, Dilip, Run), I greeted them with a tired, almost lost smile. They took photos and videos, which I would later view and consider deleting. With just two kilometers left, my energy was at its lowest point, and I was feeling the heat, even though the temperature wasn't particularly high.
I removed my arm compressions and knew I had energy gels and salt tablets in my pocket, but I had no desire to use them. I stopped looking at my watch; I had just one more turn to make, and the iconic Brandenburg Gate was only a few meters away. The finish line was just 300 meters past it. Summoning all my remaining strength, I managed to smile for a photograph and crossed the finish line.
My legs and hamstrings were aching, and I was in pain, but I collected my medal, took a selfie, and found a spot to sit down and close my eyes for a while. Nearby, another runner was doing the same. We exchanged smiles and started chatting. His name was Fahim, a British citizen of Pakistani origin. We talked for quite some time, helping each other stand up eventually.
It took me a while to figure out how to rejoin my family near the Brandenburg Gate, and in the meantime, I checked my race results online. Overall, I hadn't done badly; I finished in the top 35 percent among nearly 50,000 runners. However, I couldn't help but notice that thousands of runners had passed me in the last seven kilometers.
My watch revealed that I had run over 800 meters more than the official marathon distance due to the crowded route. It also told me that I had completed the marathon distance in 4:03, making it a personal best. However, the official time still displayed 4:10.
Despite not achieving my initial goals, I had gained a few friends along the way, both Indians and foreigners. That evening, it was time to celebrate. Every pub in Berlin was buzzing, and our tour operators, Active Sports, organized a fantastic party at a local pub. The Berliner beer was so good that it helped me forget about my race time and allowed me to connect with my newfound friends. Thanks to Gauri, Suraj, and the Active Sports team.
No one was talking about finishing times at the party; instead, discussions revolved around plans for the next major marathons. After a few beers, I even gave up my thoughts of giving up running.
In the end, the Berlin Marathon was more than just a race; it was a journey of self-discovery, camaraderie, and determination. Despite the challenges and missed goals, I had the opportunity to experience a world-class event and make lasting memories. It's a reminder that in the world of running, it's not just about the finish line but the journey that takes you there.
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