“I have never fallen in love with a new place that quickly,” I thought as I sat on my hotel bed, thinking about the small town of Suhl and its surrounding mountains I had just explored.
It was Friday, the day before my 2nd mountain trail ultramarathon. After dealing with severe hip and lower leg pain after my hard fall during my mountain ultra-debut at the Sachsentrail in June and being sick with Covid in July, I decided to not start the big adventure I had planned for this year – the Race Across Scotland in August.
However, I was already signed up for the Ultratrail Championships in October. Afraid I wouldn’t get another chance to practice my trail-running skills, I spontaneously signed up for Südthüringentrail on September 7th. My hip was still a bit painful when I signed up, but I was confident that I could at least try to finish the race due to the continuous improvements.
I was mentally ready to accept a slow finish. I viewed this race as a fun training run.
The Südthüringenultra has three races to choose from: the “Wichteltrail” with 17.4km and 559m of elevation gain, the “Riesentrail” with 47.5km and 1.932m of elevation gain, and the “Heldentrail” with 64.9km and 2.491m of elevation gain. Because I wasn’t sure how quickly my hip would heal, and I had the “Mountainman” just four weeks later, I signed up for the shorter ultra—the “Riesentrail.”
During the race briefing on Friday evening, the race director informed us that the route had been slightly changed, which triggered my fears about getting lost. As this was the second trail race in a row with last-minute route changes, I wondered if I should bother putting the race courses on my Garmin in the future.
On my way back to the city of Suhl, I met a fellow runner on the bus. He would be running the longer “Heldentrail” and would start at 05:00 am already. For those of us who signed up for the shorter “Riesentrail,” the race would start at 07:00 am.
Trying To Find My Groove at the Start
I didn’t sleep well. Nightmares (unrelated to the race or even running) haunted me. I got up at around 03:30, half an hour before my alarm went off. And more than two hours before the taxi that would take me to the race start would arrive. I debated if I should simply walk the 4 or so kilometers but then decided against it, reminding myself that it was already not smart to spend the day before on my feet all day, sightseeing and exploring the mountains around Suhl.
When I arrived at the race location, it was still dark. The air was fresh, and I was happy to wear my light jacket. Spontaneously, I decided I would not put it in my bag, which included food and drink, for after the race, but I would take it with me in my running pack.
I was too concerned about getting too cold if I needed to drop out of the race.
Unsure about my fitness levels and how well my hip would hold up over the distance and terrain, I was nervous as we gathered at the start line.
And as the crowd charged towards the first climb, I felt tense and anxious. The narrow single trail made it impossible to overtake others. I felt trapped in the line of people moving steadily uphill. My legs felt heavy, and I already thought how difficult it was.
I wondered how I would be able to run some 47 kilometers today.
Maybe I should start eating breakfast. Again, I didn’t. Again, I regretted that I still hadn’t practiced this part of ultrarunning in training. But I had my two flasks with one stick-pack of Tailwind recovery mix in each and was confident that I would find my groove and energy soon.
And once we were on a broader path, I relaxed. The panic subsided, and I tried to slow my breathing and relax into the movement. It wasn’t long before the first long uphill made me regret that I didn’t practice using poles to feel confident enough to bring them with me.
But I moved well and pushed myself by repeating the mantra that has worked so well for me during the uphill sections of the Sachsentrail: “I’m a good hiker, and I hike fast.” Alternating hands on knees and swinging my arms purposefully got me into a good rhythm, and I overtook a few people. The reward for having completed the long climb was having a real-life gnome sitting on a bench greeting us runners and, not long after, arriving at the first aid station.
I moved quickly through it, as I felt good and decided beforehand what I needed. I drank water, grabbed a few peanuts and two pieces of banana, and continued down the trail. Down a few stairs and the road that leads into the city, I ate the banana pieces and the peanuts. Once we moved out of the city again, I was surrounded by only 3 other runners. All of them had poles. I overtook 2 of them during the long and gradual uphill. The third runner would stay close to me for the rest of the race.
Steep Climbs and Downhills and Blazing Sun
The sudden sharp left turn took me by surprise. “Up here?” I asked myself in disbelief. “O.K.” I thought, “Let’s get it done.” I struggled to take the first steps up the extremely steep climb, as the steps were too high for my short legs.
I told myself to stay calm and climb with strength and purpose instead of frantically and as fast as possible. I reminded myself to only look a few steps ahead and stay in the present. The sandy underground made it difficult to find traction, and the climb seemed never-ending. Once I reached the summit of the mountain “Großer Beerberg,” I was exhausted but happy.
This feeling was what I came here for.
I took a moment to take in the breathtaking view from the highest mountain in the federal state of Thuringia before continuing down toward the second aid station.
As one of my two bottles was still almost full, I decided to have a cup of Coke and a few more pieces of banana at the second aid station. Being 16 kilometers and around 2 ½ hours into the race now, I reckoned I had a maximum of 60 g carbs, and that was a generous calculation (45g carbs from 1 Tailwind Recovery and the 2 small pieces of banana at the first aid station. The carbohydrate content of the 10 or so peanuts seemed negligible).
I refilled my empty bottle with water, drank half a cup of Coke, ate 2 pieces of banana, and again grabbed a few peanuts that I wanted to eat on the way. However, it would be a while before I could munch on them, as the next downhill required my full concentration. While I felt that the trails here at the “Riesentrail” were technically less demanding than those I encountered at the “Sachsentrail” in June, they seemed much steeper. And not only the notoriously difficult steepest ski slope in Thuringia that I had soon to conquer.
Various other steep descents tested my patience and my body.
The underground was hard at times, and my head hurt from the constant bouncing and running under the blazing sun.
The 16-kilometer stretch between aid stations 2 and 3 was the longest. All the other aid stations were around 8 kilometers spread apart. By now, I was consistently overtaking people, and hardly anyone overtook me.
Like during the previous race, I got stronger as the race progressed.
During that section, I spent some time chatting with a fellow runner who was running either close behind me or just in front of me since I left the first aid station. I usually don’t like small talk during races, but to my surprise, I enjoyed our chit-chat. He told me about his weight loss, how his wife encouraged him to explore trail running, and how he thought I was crazy for not using poles. He, of course, carried some, and he assured me it’s not much of a time waste to unfold them and pack them away again after the climbs.
When we reached the 3rd aid station, I was relieved, as I felt low on energy with a slight headache and thought some food and drink would help. I took my time to eat a few more bites of banana and drank a cup of Coke. At the same time, an incredibly friendly aid station volunteer refilled my two water bottles. I grabbed some peanuts again and went on my way, thinking my friendly companion was long gone.
When he passed me after a few minutes, I shouted, “I thought you were long gone ahead of me already,” and he proceeded to explain that the refilling of the water bladder took too much time and how he regretted using it instead of soft flasks.
I felt a surge of energy and sped up.
However, the steep descents on hard ground tired me out. My head started hurting more now, and I became moody.
Running Towards the Finish, Happy and Satisfied.
My companion overtook me again after the 4th aid station. We chatted again before he took off to finish the race before me. I slowed down but still overtook a few more runners in the last 8 kilometers.
Wanting the race to end, I ran as much as possible on the last ascent. I could already hear the noises from the start and finish area when a woman appeared, running straight towards me. “Don’t worry, you’re running in the right direction,” she assured me, “You’re almost there.”
She explained why she was running in the opposite direction, but I don’t remember it today.
I started to think about what I had to do to run better, from including more speed training to practicing with poles and running more trails in general.
I made various promises to myself.
But I was happy and satisfied when I reached the finish. I did not fall; my hip only acted up on the last ascend, and it wasn’t too bad.
Despite not being able to train properly after the Sachsentrail in June until the second half of August (and being on my feet all day the day before the race), I placed well, being the 5th woman (out of 36) and the 35th overall (out of 125).
Not bad for a training run at all.