First marathon, first race abroad, highs and lows, lessons for life…

I am not much of a social media type of person, and so far, blogging has never been an interest of mine. 

That being said, I feel like, this was one of the few things I’ve done, actually, worth sharing. 

So here is my attempt at describing how my first Marathon race went, from registration to race day.

The intention is not to show off, give excuses or look for attention, it’s simply to share an experience some of you might find valuable if they decide someday to undertake a similar endeavor.

I learned a lot from reading similar race reports, so I hope you find some form of benefit in this one.

I should start off by setting a bit of context to my passion for running.

I am what is, usually, referred to as an average, middle of the pack runner who started around 2013.

Like many, I was looking for a way to regain some level of fitness after being a workaholic (sitting at a desk all day) for years.

For a while, I was on and off running, until I decided one day to, blindly, register for my first half marathon.

As you can expect, it was an absolute disaster, I went totally undertrained, with the wrong shoes, went out too fast, blew up half way… etcetera, etcetera.

I probably made all the rookie mistakes and ended up walking the second half to finish in over 2h and 40 min.

It took me 2 weeks to recover (had blisters the size of pancakes) and for a second I thought that was the end of my attempt at running.

Fast forward a couple of years, with lots of research, patience and investing in the right gear, I started improving slowly and steadily. 

I discovered, that my body is not built for running, too heavy, too sensitive to heat and the aerobic system of a couch potato.

But it didn’t matter, I was hooked…

After running primarily on road, a couple of events in Zaghouan and Beni M'Tir introduced me to Trails.

Although I kept running on roads, my preference shifted and I was looking forward to every opportunity to get muddy and suffer on a proper dirt path.   

This is getting way too long! 

You get the point, average runner, likes trails… let’s move on.

The Choice

Up until this point my long runs were somewhere between 21 to 30k on a flat course and I usually finish with great difficulty due to nutrition issues, bad heat management and so on.

Because of that, racing abroad was never on the table, and traveling to run a half marathon seemed a bit of a stretch (although I respected those who did).

Another reason was obviously financial. It was simply something I could not afford.

At some point in 2016, a unique opportunity presented itself putting me in a position to pick, one trip, one race… THE race.

I obviously started looking at the most popular marathons: Rome, Paris, London… but then realized, it’s not every day that I get to run a big event, so I should pick wisely.

I dug out my bucket list race and started looking for potential events that would fit my budget, level of fitness… something attractive.

It took me a while to make up my mind. Most of the races I wanted initially were around Ramadan, a month during which I’m usually weak and unable to train properly.

I ended up selecting the Transgrancanaria HG. A multi-day event with distances varying from 17 up to 265km in the Gran Canaria island of Spain (although technically closer to Morocco).

The 42k distance seemed like something I could handle, so I resisted.

For more details, check out http://www.transgrancanaria.net

The training

The Marathon course had 1200m of elevation gain but was mostly downhill.

Looking at it, I thought, yeah, how hard can it be? 

The race was on February 24th, so I had 14 weeks to get ready, all I had to do was build on the decent level of fitness I already had.

I laid out my plan. At the time I was experimenting with the Maffetone method and it wasn’t working for me. (I probably did not give it enough time to see the benefits, but anyway, I decided to steer away)

Transitioning to a different approach followed by a famous coach named Jason Koop seemed better, but I wasn’t done reading his book, I wasn’t even half way.

My plan ended up being a mix of different ideas I found online and tried to adapt to my capabilities and schedule. Not ideal, but hey, I wasn’t training for the Olympics.

The training started well, so, by the time I lined up for the Comar half marathon I was in a pretty good shape. It was supposed to be an easy long run. I wasn’t chasing any PRs or anything.

I started slow, alongside my cousin, then I ran with different groups I recognized from the RCT Club to finish 5 min slower than my PR without too much trouble.

 After Comar, I decided it was time to switch to Trails. I spent quite a bit of time online, scouting for options. 

El Nahli was the closest, but didn’t fit, it seemed short and the type of terrain didn’t really match the Transgrancanria course. Other locations in my hometown Bizerte were interesting but I couldn’t find a safe parking spot.

Boogarning Mountain was my best bet. A 15k loop with an elevation gain of about 500m. Bingo…

The first run was interesting to say the least. It made me realize how taxing trails can be (compared to roads), but it didn’t matter I enjoyed it.

First a 22k run, then a 30k the next weekend allowed me to estimate how long it would take me to complete my first Trail marathon. 5 hours and 30 minutes seam achievable and satisfying.

My next goals were: run another 30k, focus on nutrition and try to improve my downhill technique. 

All of the sudden on December 9th I had to make a phone call. The phone call all runners wish they never have to make.

The injury

Let me tell you straight away. Running over a thousand miles a year without medical supervision is a foolish idea. A mistake only rookies make.

And I must admit, I was a rookie, I always thought only professional athletes needed to seek assistance from physical therapists.

All my previous aches and pains were minor. Swollen ankle here, knee pain there, muscle soreness… Nothing that icing and rest couldn’t fix. 

But this time, the pain was there to stay, I couldn’t run a 2km without feeling a sharp pain in my thigh. 

At first I didn’t know what to do or were to find a specialist fix me. So, I stopped running for a week hoping I’d recover naturally. 

To my disappointment, that didn’t work. 

Luckily, curtesy of Skander CHAHLOUL from RCT, I made an appointment to see Med Ali MECHRI (aka Daly IRM, aka Super Kiné).

To spare you some details, it was bad. He brought up a bunch of unpronounceable names, “Sartorius” inflammation, he stopped me for a week, “psoas iliacus” inflammation, and he stopped me for another week. 

The injuries kept coming one after the other, and I was running out of time. After almost 3 weeks without running I was totally out of shape, I was gaining weight and my plans were falling apart.

With 8 weeks to go, SuperPT agreed to let me resume training with caution, promising we would focus on the remaining issues until race day.

The recovery

The first 5km at 6min pace, on a flat road had me panting like an old man. I was deflated, my dreams of a perfect race were obliterated.  

I had to rebuild from scratch, so I fell back on Koop’s advice. 

I’m paraphrasing, but this is the gist of it.

If you had no choice but to focus on one area, pick fitness. Focusing on my fitness was my best chance to get to the finish line.

I dropped the interval training, the speed work all the extra bells and whistles and focused on running a steady pace below my lactate threshold.

10k, 12k, 10 miles… and I was slowly back on track.

With 2 or 3 sessions a week, SuperPT was successfully managing my injuries, supporting me both physically and mentally. Pulling chunks of wood out of my leg (that’s a story for another time).

My last long run was a 32k in Boogarnin. It took me a little bit over 4 hours but it gave me hope.

Given the circumstances, a revised goal was set: finish in less than 6 hours. Even by a second. 

The trip

My Trip to the Canary Islands involved 2 flights with a 4 hours layover in Madrid, another hour by bus, then a 20 min walk to the guest house. Basically a full day of traveling.

Arriving late afternoon taught me another lesson: Next time, get to your racing destination at least 2 days before the start.

I still had 1 day to rest, but I felt like it wasn’t enough. 

I was tired from the standing, the queues, the running around with my suit case, plus, It was HOT, and I mean, swimsuit hot.

People were in shorts and I was walking around in a heavy Jacket.

The Island looked just like the photos. The perfect location to retire: Sunny, clean, secure, no traffic, post card like beaches; restaurants, supermarkets and everything you might need within walking distance.

The next day I went to the Expo to pick up my bib. A huge area with lots of activities: Crossfit, Yoga classes… and what they called a Trail Zone where different brands came to present their products. An opportunity for runners to buy any last minute items they might need.

I saw mostly mountain sports gear but didn’t want to spend too much time checking shoes and compression clothing I went straight to the check-in area.

It was very organized, volunteers were cheerful and welcoming. They handed me a bag with my bib number and a few presents. Among other things, a t-shirt a buff, a belt…

After that I went to another area to leave my drop bag. (Mostly clothes to change at the finish line) took a couple of photos I promised SuperPT, and that was it for the Expo.

From there, straight home to get ready and rest. I laid out my gear, filled my hydration vest and prepared my nutrition for the big day (a portion of the massive quantities I brought from home). 

One rule I was glad to abide by for dinner: Go simple, pasta seemed ideal and that’s what I had.

The night before the race, a couple, renting the room next to me noticed I was wearing the Trangrancanaria sweater. As it turns out, they were participating too the young man in the Marathon like me and his companion, a beginner, chose the 17km.

There you have it. I made a new friend. 

We had a nice conversation, mostly about running.

He had more experience with trail running, some of his previous participations were ultra-distances. 

We agreed  to share a taxi to go the Expo the next morning.

The face he made when I told him it was my first marathon ever, including road, made me thing what the hell am I getting myself into. But guess what? Too late to chicken out. 

Race Day

Aside from a noisy neighbor who woke me up around 2AM, the night was ok. I had a decent amount of sleep.

I got up at 4:30AM, had breakfast and waited for my new Polish friend to get ready.

First surprise of the day, the taxi we booked the previous night didn’t want to take us to the Expo! He said he was supposed to take his customer to the airport.

Great! In total panic we ran around looking for another one without success. 20 min later, he accepted to take us, given no one else showed up to go to the airport.

We got to the Expo on time to hop on the first bust to the start line.

We were at about 6m above sea level, pretty much the lowest part of the island, and the bus was taking us to the top of the mountain at about 2000m.

Before long, the journey started, and it was about to give me the biggest surprise of the day.

Despite all the detailed planning and preparation, I missed a major fact: I’ve suffered from motion sickness (Le mal du transport) for as long as I can remember, and this time I totally forgot about it.

Most of the journey was in the dark. The sudden turns of the bus, didn’t make things easy for me. It flet more like roller-coaster.

According to other passengers, sitting at the back of the bus was the last thing I should have done.

To spare you some nasty details, there was vomiting involved, lots of it, shivering, sweating… I was in state I never experienced in my life.

This was not a good start to the great day I was hoping for.

And like that wasn’t enough the top of the mountain was freezing, runners coming from European countries were shaking so badly. They stated running around, trying to get the blood flowing.

I got my jacket out, put on a buff, a cap on top of it, and it wasn’t enough. 

So next time the organizers recommend to pack an extra-long sleeve shirt, don’t be stupid, do as they say.

 I had everything in my suitcase, running, gloves, extra layers… and I didn’t bring any of it trying to save weight. A mistake I paid for instantly.

Seeing my pale zombie face, my room-mate, ran to me asking if I should be running…

In total crazy runner fashion, I answered: I’ll go crawling if I have to, forcing a smile.

In reality, it wasn’t looking good, I just threw up my breakfast, last night’s dinner and all the hydration I was carefully taking in since I woke up.

Once again, I had to re-adjust my plans. Forget the 6 hours goal, the objective now is to finish in one piece.

We had about 30min to wait, so we joined the queue for the only vending machine available in the camp. Luckily my friend had a few coins we used to get a couple of hot chocolate cups. And boy, that was good…

Before long the gun went off. The atmosphere was electric. Probably one of the best build ups to a start I witnessed. 

I started really slow, giving my stomach a chance to digest some food. I wasn’t feeling grate. Every time I swallowed something, the feeling of nausea hit me.

No big deal, I said to myself. I was suck behind runners anyway. An opportunity for me to recover. 

Everyone was trying to pass the bottlenecks, caused by the narrow single track and the fact that we were going up a steep climb.

I glanced at my watch for a second and was immediately horrified. By kilometer 2 we were walking at 26min pace. 

33 minutes had already passed and I said out loud: “This is going to be a long day…” another runner nearby confirmed.

It took me a bit to digest the information. But once I accepted the inevitable I decided to have fun.

Another piece of advice I learned from elite runners: “Keep smiling, no matter what”.

The elevation profile was pretty easy to memorize, we basically had a big climb after every aid station. 

Kilometer 2 had 200m of elevation gain on its own.

As I was slowly making my way towards the first aid station at 12.5km, I thought I could make up the lost time in the decent. From my experience 5min/5min30s is manageable in descents. And man I was wrong.

5min pace on slippery loose rocks, no, definitely not a good idea. (At least for me, my friend was long gone at the time).

Another piece of advice: Do not try to fiddle with your phone or take pictures while running downhill. I almost twisted my ankle a couple of times.

A runner behind me was trying to warn me while I was taking a video. Its cut, but you can guess the end: “If you fall you’re #$@&%*!”

On a positive note, the scenery was amazing, the ads I saw for the race weren’t fake.

The fact that I was running slower than usual allowed me to enjoy it even more.

I did feel a lack of energy around km 8 but that was expected since I was down on calories. 

I kept going hoping things will get better when I reach the aid station and eat something other than dates and dried fruits.

It took a little bit over 2 hours, but we finally reached “Tunte”. 

A festive atmosphere, people cheering for all runners. I didn’t want to stick around too long. 

I still had enough water to take me to the next aid station, so I had quick look on the available food, squeezed on a couple of orange slices, swallowed a few sweets and took off.

The terrain kept changing, most of it was rocky, from slippery rock to big sharp rock to smaller loose rock…

As we went down, the temperature was rising and I felt more and more comfortable. I ditched the buff and put on my sunglasses.

Working my way through turns and steep descents was not an easy task but I was enjoying it, energy started to kick in from the oranges and I was getting closer and closer to aid station n°2.

For some reason, I was in a much better mood when I reached “Ayagaures” an aid station at km25. I even took the time to capture short videos to showcase it.

Getting out of there meant only one thing, we were about to hit a nasty climb.

Looking back at it, it probably wasn’t that bad. I’m sure I’ve seen worse in my training, but I felt like I needed to share the pain.

Note: I watched videos after the race showing elite runners flying up this climb without breaking a sweat. 

Around kilometer 28, I was really starting to feel the effect of going downhill for so long. Something I’ve never done before. 

My quads were screaming, but I kept running, telling myself: you’re passed the half way mark, the difficult part is over.

After what felt like a mile of climbing, we were going downhill again. I imagined this part to be the easiest. I was thinking: just let gravity take you down.

Once again I was wrong, we still had 10 miles to go, my quads were busted, my ankles were on fire. Even Walking downhill became a challenge.

This part of the course was probably the worst, the surroundings were stunning, some sort of canyon all around, but the path was pure rock, big uneven rock difficult to run on.

We switched from jumping to carefully walking at the edge of the path.

At this point my average pace was disappointing, I reckoned it would take me over 7 hours to get to the finish line. Shame… shame on you I was thinking to myself. 

As I recall it, we were out of the canyon around km 37, we finally hit a flat section. Yes flat, not up, not down, FLAT something I haven’t seen the entire day.

Everyone around me was trying to run, but I could see them struggling. Walking a few steps, then jogging and back to walking again.

I was in a miserable state myself. I ran out of water but I was determined to give it everything I got.

Finishing in 7 hours was out of the question, 6:59 was my goal.  (Pathetic, I know)

I started running again, even though it was flat, putting one leg in front of the other felt terrible.

Hitting 6min pace in some spots gave me hope. I had to keep running to reach my goal (if you can call 6:30 running).

A quick stop at the last aid station around 39 km and we were about to reach the city.

With 2km to go, walking became a struggle, we had to go up a few stares and I hated that. 

From there it was a combination of waking and running alongside a Spanish runner who was at his 4th participation. 

I was back to running at about km41. One last effort and it will be over.

I could hear the spectators cheering for the finishers from far.

With few hundred meters to go, I noticed a young lady in front of me getting ready to finish, she was grabbing a flag clearly chasing a grand finish photo.

I didn’t want to ruin it for her, so I stayed behind her, making sure I’m not in the background.

She was taking too damn long, I was getting impatient.

With 300m left, I decide to pass. I gave it everything I got. I still don’t know how I hit a 4:50 pace but I was on the ramp fast enough to get my photo taken and leave the stage for the next runner.

Later, my cousin who was watching the finish live. Told me: you finished the race like it was a 5k.

If only he knew.

Results

Despite finishing nowhere near my target time, I am beyond satisfied with my participation.

It was a learning experience unlike any other, and it will certainly help me improve for future crazy challenges.

Post-race

After the race, I recovered my drop back, changed my clothes and joined the crowed gathered near the finish line, a few photos along the way and I was heading home. 

Too tired to party. At home standing to take a shower was a challenge.

All I could think about was laying in my bed. I wasn’t even interested in food.

Funny enough. I couldn’t also sleep either, so I grabbed my tablet and started looking at potential races for the future. 

The next day was a bit of a surprise, aside from going downstairs, which was painful, I felt better than I expected.

Going for a jog to flush out the lactic acid was an impossible mission, so I settled for a walk on the beach. 

Before concluding, I’d like to give special shootouts to SuperKiné for getting me ready for the event.

I’d like to thank all those who supported me in one way or another. The words of encouragement from RCT club the night of the race were a big motivation.

I highly recommend this event to whoever is crazy enough to give it a try. I’d even suggest the longer distances for those who can handle it. I hear the norther part of the island is also spectacular.

Kamel SAHLI

Avid runner.