“This could be your last chance to run this race”, I say to myself as I take a long look at my memento mori necklace. Thoughts of not starting crossed my head more than once this morning and I could feel the disappointment and anger rising within me.
Like the year prior, my gut was throwing a tantrum, I had a restless night, and woke up way too early.
But this year I would not let my gut get in the way of finishing this race. There was no pressure either. It was purely a training race – a relaxed long run with support along the way.
Three weeks later, I would start at the Istria 110K, and the Schwerin Seen Trail was for enjoyment only. I wanted to celebrate running and their 10th anniversary (which is also my 5th ultrarunning anniversary) seemed like the perfect occasion to do so.
However, on a more personal level, this race was also for making peace with the past.
Running Back to Let Go
The Schwerin Seen Trail 61K is a special race for me. Not only because it was my first ultramarathon in 2021 or because of my 3rd place finish back then. But also because it will always remind me of my then partner, who traveled to the race with me.
I arrived in Schwerin on Thursday, early in the afternoon, feeling positive but also somewhat wistful. After I went to get a few groceries for the next few days, I walked to Lake Schwerin. I looked over to the spot where we both sat the day after the race and watched the lake. I remembered our walk along the “Pfaffenteich” as I walked back to my hotel. My heart felt heavy as I told myself it’s time to let it all go. There was no need anymore for answers to all the questions I still had. Maybe there was no need to understand, even though I yearned to understand everything.
I didn’t tell anyone before the race about these feelings and that this race was more than “just” celebrating shared anniversaries. Yet, for some reason, someone asked on Thursday night about my ex girlfriend and if I ever found out why she ended our relationship.
I tried to explain as best as I could. But how can you explain something you don’t fully understand?
Trying to relieve some of the emotional hangover I felt on Friday morning, I went for a morning run around the “Fauler See.” It was a beautiful, albeit very cold, morning. My legs felt good and the beauty of my surroundings filled me with gratitude and joy. After 12 km with some pick-ups and strides I decided to get back to the hotel. Yes, the race was “only” a training race. But I still didn’t want to overcook myself the day before.
Now I had the whole day to write, or so I thought.
After I had written for a few hours I went to get my race bib. And just as I was walking back to my hotel I got a text from a friend, asking if I was in town, running the next day and if I wanted to meet for coffee. She would be picking up her race bib soon and would also race. I was overjoyed and of course wanted to meet her. Instead of writing I spent the afternoon chatting with her over ginger tea and visiting a small sports shoe shop.
Walking back to the hotel in the early evening, I was happy and grateful I met her again after quite a long time.
I went to bed calm, but wondering if my gut would hold up.
Race Morning Panic
I woke up around 03:30 with a gurgling tummy that felt like I had just eaten a huge meal. “At least I have enough time,” I told myself, trying to relax. I prepared some coffee and sat down to write my morning journal. I packed my race backpack and my drop-bag that I would pick up after the race and started to get slightly annoyed with myself.
I still had more than 2 hours until I would need to leave. I decided to go for a quick run to hopefully settle my stomach a bit. It didn’t really help, but I had a nice 20-minute jog in the dark through the empty streets. Running past the illuminated Castle Schwerin felt magical and my anxiety slowly turned into a mix of love and peace as the song “Tightrope” by Sara Bareilles started to play on my phone.
I decided not to overdo it and went back to my hotel. After too much coffee and no breakfast I decided it was best to leave a little early.
I had a 20-minute walk to the start line and when I arrived at the gymnasium where the drop-bags could be deposited and the pre-race briefing would be held, I felt the same calm that I felt when I sat on the bus to the start line of CCC UTMB the year prior. A sense of knowing that all I could do was try.
After the briefing all runners ran together to the official start on the Castle Bridge. I didn’t remember that it was such a long way. But it seemed to me that it was less crowded 5 years ago. I spotted a runner wearing sandals and wondered how his feet were not excruciatingly cold in this weather.
A member of my running club wore no race vest or belt, and I wondered if I would ever be brave enough to start a point-to-point race with almost nothing on me. The aid stations at the Schwerin Seen Trail are very close together (every 8-10km), so running without much seems reasonable. Still, even after 5 years of ultrarunning, I feel safer with extra clothes, food, and 2 flasks of water.
“Maybe if I run this again next year, I will run with just a belt,” I thought to myself as we waited for the start signal to go off.
A Stressful First Half
“Which route are you taking?” one runner asked another. “I decide depending on how I feel when I’m at the start of the section,” the other runner replied. There was a special “feature” in the race this year that made me a bit nervous when I first read it on the website: a section where one could choose the route freely, with no course markings.
The reason for this was that the race organisers didn’t receive an official permit for a section through the forests along the lake. Hence, one was free to choose if one uses the “old” course from previous years (with the nice route along the lake) or the “new” alternative course via cycle paths and roads.
I decided to run along the lake because it’s such a beautiful trail and I didn’t want to miss the section. And if I were to get lost again (like it happened in 2021, in exactly that section) then I would handle it.
It was a training race after all. I could take some extra time to ensure I would be on course.
However, I was less sure about my clothing and proceeded to take off and put on my light jacket several times while waiting for the start. I eventually kept it on and regretted my decision not long after we started the race. On the first climb I wondered if it was really so much less crowded 5 years ago or if back then I also had to wait behind a queue of runners walking up the hill.
Memories of CCC popped into my head, and how incredibly frustrated I felt to not be able to run at my own rhythm for almost all of the first half of that race. But I calmed myself down and tried to focus on the beauty of the trails. “It’s just the start. And… you told yourself not to race this race,” I reminded myself.
I took a gel very early, reminding myself to practice even if my gut felt off. Slowly but surely, the field of runners spread out a little, and I had some space.
Then a guy started to chat with me. I didn’t feel like talking at all. In fact, I rarely do during races – especially in the beginning. I downright hate it sometimes. I love chatting with aid station volunteers and making them smile, but fellow runners can stay away from me during a race.
On the other hand, I also don’t want to be rude, so I chatted a bit with the guy who told me that this was his first ultramarathon. He was a triathlete and wanted to get some tips for his first ultra. I didn’t have any tips for him, but told him that the Schwerin Seen Trail was my first ultra as well, five years ago, and that this race made me fall in love with ultrarunning. Once we stopped talking I sped up a bit. The gel was kicking in…
Not long after, a girl ran next to me. “Do you mind if I run with you?” she asked. “No,” I replied, but the truth is I wanted to say “yes.” “Then one isn’t so alone,” she said. I don’t remember replying to anything, but I remember thinking, “I want to be alone.”
I slowed down a bit, and it wasn’t long until she was gone. I felt moody, but didn’t make any attempts to figure out why. As planned I ran past the first aid station “Raben Steinfeld” at kilometer 10. I still had enough water in my flasks, and I decided before the race that I would stick to Precision Hydration chews and gels, supplemented by Coke and gummy worms from the aid stations as needed.
I started to feel joyful as I ran down the small hill that awaited us right after the aid station. I don’t remember much else from that first half of the race, except that I had some coke and gummy worms at aid station 2 (Leetzen at km 18) and that I approached aid station 3 (Retgendorf km 27) thinking: already halfway through the aid stations. I felt calm and content.
My gut was somewhat bloated and felt full, but there was no cramping and no signs of impending “disaster”. I was proud of myself for not giving into the temptation of trying baked goods or pretzels from the aid stations.
Finding Flow In The Second Half
My plan to grab more gummy candies at aid station 3 had to be adjusted, because they didn’t have any. But I was happy to grab a few dates – one of my favourite foods to eat on a long run. Just after I left the aid station with the dates in my hand, I started to worry about the fiber and if it was indeed a good idea to go for dates now. But I quickly pushed the thought aside and ate all 4 or so over the next few metres.
Not long after, I took a quick pee break in the bushes. The field of runners had now spread out nicely and only one runner noticed me. Like so often in other races I wondered why I felt guilty for a pee stop in the bushes when so many dudes just stand seemingly everywhere they want to empty their bladders….
I reached aid station 4 (Hohen Viecheln km 36.5) feeling slightly exhausted, but happy. I asked for coffee but they had none. Coke and gummy jellies again it was instead. The aid station volunteers said I could use some warm water and that some other runners had done this. “Thanks, but I am already too hot,” I replied. I wondered why I was feeling so warm today and thought that something was off with my body.
I met another runner at the aid station with whom I chatted a bit before I continued on my way. Not long after I left the aid station she ran beside me asking if I was from this “Mauerweg group” and I confirmed. She proceeded to tell me she had done the relay of the race and that she had also done the Schwerin Seen Trail before, but that today it wasn’t her day and that the course seemed endless.
I told her it also wasn’t my day, but I didn’t tell her that I felt better and better the longer I ran.
Lost And Found
Soon reached the sign that alerted us to the start of the section with 2 possible routes and without markings. I took the turn left that led me down into the forests along the lake. I was running mostly alone now, and the trail was beautiful.
However, it wasn’t long until my watch alerted me that I was going the wrong way. But the lake was still to my left…could I be wrong? I hesitated as I scrambled under a fallen tree. I stood for a moment and then turned around and ran back.
Soon I met two runners who were walking – one of them was the lady I chatted with at the last checkpoint. They assured me I was on the right track and that I just needed to continue straight ahead until I reached the hill that I needed to go up to reach aid station number 5.
“Well then,” I thought, “just keep going and hope for the best.” I ran very slowly now, always on the lookout for a hill that might be the one I needed to go up.
Soon, another runner appeared behind me. “Do you have the right course?” I asked. He confirmed. “You just have to keep going straight ahead,” he instructed me. “Thanks. I think I have the wrong track on my watch,” I replied. “Yes, it’s the old one.” Every now and then, I waited for him to catch up and assure me I was indeed still on the right path.
Eventually, I reached the hill that led up to aid station 5. I thanked him again for guiding me and happily ran up the hill. I was joyful and reached the checkpoint Willigrad (km 45) with a smile on my face.
I smiled even more when I found out they had coffee and gummy worms. “This is a dream! You are the best!” I said joyfully with a big grin. “Well, we’re happy to do that for nice runners,” one of the volunteers replied.
I drank the coffee while walking out of the aid station and could feel a burst of energy as I was running through the forests again.
Five Years in Seven Kilometres
I was all alone now, and for a moment I worried I had taken a wrong turn. But my watch agreed with my route choice, so I carried on.
Running felt effortless and joyful now – it was just me and the sounds of the forests. And I remembered why I love running so much.
The pain in my hip was gone. “Of course,” I thought. “I just need to loosen up my muscles…I should have done some mobility work over the past few weeks.” I promised myself to include more again after this race.
I reached aid station 6 in good spirits. “Well done,” a guy who looked still very fresh said to me as he approached the aid station. I checked his bib to see if he was doing the 33k, but I was surprised to see he also did the 61k. “Likewise,” I replied.
I asked if they had coffee, but wasn’t bothered at all when they said no. “Then I’ll take Coke,” I said and grabbed a few gummy worms as I drank. I chatted a bit with the aid station volunteers and wished them a lot of fun before I continued on the last 7 kilometers.
I wondered if the course had changed so much or if it just looked so different in spring, or if 5 years was a long enough time to not remember much. But I felt like the field I was running across now was at a much earlier point in the race, 5 years ago.
I checked my watch for the first time during the race. I would be slower than the first time. But I was content. I didn’t taper or rest at all for this race. To the contrary. I put in 2 big training weeks leading up to it (including a speedy 12km session the day prior) and wanted to run relaxed. I planned to not have a long recovery period and one or 2 weeks of decent training before Istria 110K, just 3 weeks after.
I tried to become fully present over the past 7km and remind myself of how far I had come over the past 5 years.
How much I had grown as a runner and as a person. I thought about how I started and how afraid I was when I toed the line at this race 5 years ago. How I thought the hills would be a tough challenge. And now I came back as a runner who had completed far more difficult races with “serious” elevation gain…in “real” mountains, including CCC UTMB.
And still…I was anxious that morning. Maybe that is a good thing. To always have some doubt. To always respect the distance. To always remember how crazy it is that someone who grew up being constantly sick and a complete failure in PE now gets to experience these adventures.
And to always be grateful to have the opportunity to stand at the start line with a healthy body and a strong mind. I thought of the wonderful people I met through running in those past 5 years. The friendships that formed.
And I thought about the miracles I experienced along the way – the small ones just as much as the big ones.
I crossed the finish line in 06:32. Exactly 20 minutes slower than 5 years ago. But I was content. I knew the times were not comparable, and I had gotten exactly what I wanted that day.
A nice, relaxed, long run on beautiful trails in preparation for some really big goals this year 😎.